anonymous asked:

Sastiel and 20??

Sastiel + things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear

I love him is said between grit teeth and blood and Castiel muttering confessions while kneeling over Sam’s concussed body. Another angel laughs; another one tsks Castiel; their steps are light as they move forward. 

I knew it. Sam hears the disgust. He hears it and doesn’t care. Castiel’s hands are warm on his back. Eli was right. Our brother just couldn’t resist this… abomination.

The sound of metal sliding against fabric makes Sam want to reach up, tell Castiel that he feels the same way, but the monsters behind them chuckle softly at Castiel’s sudden swing warding them off. 

You will not touch him.

Sam runs over the words as though they were written on his skin, the ink bitten and tender over his heart.

A week later, Sam hears a commotion in the living room of Bobby’s house. The wound on his side aches and his neck is constantly sore yet it doesn’t stop him from rushing at the sound of Castiel struggling.

Things weren’t the same after their brush with death. Sam couldn’t blame Castiel. After all, the only reason two angels came after Castiel was because of how he betrayed them for the Winchesters. And the only reason they came after Sam was because-

“I love him. I love Sam.” Sam stops right as his finger tips touch the door knob. He pulls back like he’s been burned. The angel’s breath hitches uncharacteristically from inside the house. “I’m… I’m sorry. It was… that was why-”

“Wait, are you-” now there’s Dean’s voice rising in anger. “Are you shitting me right now? That’s why they took him? Because you-” A moment of silence. “I can’t… I can’t deal with this right now. I… Sam? You’re into him? My brother? And that’s why-” 

“They took him because of that. Yes.”

“He almost died because of you-! Do you have any idea what I’ve been through to keep his ass alive-!” Sam backs away slowly off the front porch into the sun. He keeps going until their voice, rising slightly with every step, fade away into the junk yard. 

He doesn’t return until later than night. He never talks about it. He won’t.

Sam is half asleep when his mind is filled with water color blues and pinks and golds. Red slips between each layer but it isn’t like blood; it’s softer, a blush crawling through. And, as water does, the colors quiver slightly. They wash over Sam affectionately, warmly, trickling over his skin and if the young man hadn’t known any better, he’d say they were kissing him over every scar. 

I love you.

It isn’t spoken but breathed quietly through Sam’s thoughts just as he wakes up to a dark room.

In the morning, Castiel doesn’t look Sam in the eye. He barely talks, barely contributes to the conversation when Dean isn’t around. When it’s Sam and Castiel all alone, Sam looks over his friend with his back turned to him, shoulders hunched, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, head tilted as he washes dishes and puts them away. His pretty mussed up hair catches the afternoon light; the crinkles around his eyes are smoothed out instead of being crunched in their usual perplexed state; soap suds land on his nose which he wipes at with the crook of his elbow. 

It’s so human. So… mundane.

“I love you too, Cas,” Sam blurts out. “I just…”

Castiel drops the cup in his hand. He doesn’t turn around. 

“I needed you to… hear that. I love you.”

anonymous asked:

Sastiel reverse verse with cas as the human hunter and sam as the angel?

(Pretty sure I got this as a fic prompt before I started doing the whole ‘Sastiel AU headcanons’ thing… but if I was wrong, honey, feel free to send me this again and I’ll be happy to do headcanons! It makes a mighty fine fic prompt, though… enjoy <3)

“Sam, I’ve - I’ve been praying to you all week,” Cas all but sobbed. He was close to tears, and only his will to stay composed prevented him from crying. Who knew that he would ever be this attached to an angel? Who knew that, one day, he would care for Samuel just as much as he cared for Gabe? (Of course, the affection he felt for Gabe, although deep, was completely different. They were brothers. Sam, on the other hand, was, well…. Sam.)

“Where are you?” Cas asked the darkening sky in a hushed whisper, looking up at the stars through the motel window and wondering if Sam was among them right now, fighting for Heaven’s freedom along with Dean and the other angels.

If Sam wasn’t fighting, it could be due to one of two things. Option one: Sam had finally heard Cas’ prayer and was locating him right now, getting ready to zap into his waiting arms and relieve his heart of all the heaviness that plagued it every time it was away from Sam.

Option two… Sam wasn’t fighting because he had been injured, or captured, or - or even worse… one of those dicks had taken one of their fancy silver blades and - and -

“Cas? Cas!” Sam rushed over to Cas, who was sitting on the motel bed, and examined him worriedly, looking for any signs of damage.

“Sam, you’re - you’re okay,” Cas whispered softly as Sam continued to gaze at him with concern.

“I’m fine, Cas - are you?”

“What? I’m - yeah, I’m fine,” Cas said, wiping away the tears that had finally come out at the sight of his angel. “More than fine. Fantastic.”

Sam made to stand but Cas stopped him, grabbing his arms and making him sit down on the bed. Only then, clinging to the perplexed angel, did Cas finally let himself accept that Sam was actually there with him. That Sam was actually alive.

“Cas, there is definitely something wrong with you,” Sam insisted, putting a hand to Cas’ forehead and frowning. Cas shoved Sam’s hand off and stopped the angel before he could speak again.

“I was just worried, Cas, is all.”

“Just worried? But you - you were crying, Cas.”

“Because I love you. I was crying because I love you.”

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed, and his expression became even more suspicious.

Cas let a huffed breath of air escape him and looked at Sam fondly, shaking his head a little as he did so. Sam had come a long way with understanding humanity, especially since they had started dating (if you could even call it that). But there was still so much more he needed to learn… so much more.

“Sam, when a human loves someone - really, really loves them, like I love you,” Cas said, holding Sam’s hand while he spoke, “it hurts them when the person they love isn’t around. And when they’re separated from their partner for a long time, like we’ve been this past week, it can be hard - especially if they don’t know if their love will ever come back,” Cas continued, murmuring the last part so quietly that Sam almost missed it entirely.

Sam let his eyes rest on the dingy motel floor and caressed Cas’ hand tenderly, trying to think of how to respond.

“I received all of your prayers, Cas,” Sam said, turning to look at Cas. “And I wanted to reply to them desperately. But up there, it’s hard to get any messages out, let alone ones down to Earth.” 

Sam began to get agitated, worried that Cas would not believe him, would think that he somehow didn’t care, or wasn’t human enough to truly love Cas. “I heard them and I listen to them over and over, formulated responses in my head, but any communication to you could have given away our position and gotten more angels killed than have already -”

“It’s okay, Sam, it’s okay,” Cas soothed, leaning on Sam’s shoulder and rubbing Sam’s back steadily until the angel calmed down.

“I - I know what you’re talking about, I think. With the crying, and the hurt. I missed you, Cas. I missed you a lot. And though I did not cry, every night I looked down on Earth and I hoped that you would wait for me. You could have easily abandoned me, insisted that you’d never cared for me and left it at that. But you didn’t. You’re here. And now, I never want to let you go.”

The two figures sat there, angel and human outlined in the pale light of the moon that drifted through the window. They did not look at each other - being together, feeling each other’s touch, was enough. Cas closed his eyes and hummed. Sam pulled Cas closer and felt Cas’ humming resonate in his chest.

“We can make this work, Sam,” Cas said, breaking the blissful silence to assure himself and Sam of this fact. “We can make this work.”

Send me a prompt?

anonymous asked:

If you're still taking those ship prompts; Sastiel and 20

Sastiel + things you said that I wasn’t meant to hear

Castiel makes it a point to never eavesdrop in any way, shape, or form although being as close as he is to Sam makes that difficult. His boyfriend’s thoughts will bleed into his own. He supposes it has something to do with his grace or their energies reaching out; either way, he tends to ignore it if he hasn’t been invited to listen in. 

Unfortunately, he can’t unhear physical words and all day, Sam had gone between talking on the phone and asking Castiel weird questions like what kind of cake he likes if he had to pick, his favorite places to go (which didn’t seem to help Sam when Castiel told him he liked visiting the Himalayas), or what his favorite flowers were. Castiel caught bits and pieces of Sam’s conversations; there was talk about reservations and cancellations. Mostly cancellations. In addition, Sam was sweating so much he had to change three times before noon.

“Are you well, Sam?” Castiel asked. For the way Sam jumped, he may as well have yelled it in his ear. The younger man almost backed out of the bunker library entirely with a nervous smile on his face. 

“Yeah! Totally. I’m fine. I’m good. Just.” Sam pursed his lips. “Would you maybe… want to go somewhere with me tonight?” 

“On a hunt?”

“No, like. A, uh. A date. Tonight.” 

Castiel’s brows knit together. A date? They’d gone on dates before. Half the time, they barely discussed it before leaving. 

“Of course. Are you sure you’re well?”

“Yeah, Cas. I’m good, promise.” Seeing Castiel’s concern, Sam stepped close to kiss him on the forehead before leaving. “See you tonight.” 

However, Sam never specified a time or place, but Castiel figured that when he heard him leave he would follow assuming they were finally leaving. Only, it isn’t just Sam that exits. There’s another set of footsteps following him and hushed voices which serves to bewilder Castiel as he takes to the Bunker’s stairs. 

Outside, the sun is beginning to set. Light breaks through the trees and bathes the ground in shards of gold. The balm of a summer’s evening fills the air with humidity. Fireflies have already risen from the tall grass and have made their way over to the Impala where Sam is patting himself down frantically while Dean drags a hand down his face.

“Are you kidding? How could you lose it already?!”

“It was right here, I swear-!”

“Spent all that money on a ring-”

“Wait, wait-!” He pulls a black box out from his back pocket and breathes out all six foot four of himself slumping in relief. “Forgot I moved it-”

“What’re you so nervous about? You really think Cas’ll say no?”

“He’s an angel, Dean, I don’t know how he thinks about marriage. He could think it’s the most useless thing in the world-”

“He’s met Metatron, right? And Crowley?”

“Point taken.”

“You just gotta relax, man. You’ll be fine. Especially when you take him to that-” Dean looks over toward to door; his eyes widen. “To that ball game!”


He motions with his head and Sam turns around. Upon seeing Castiel, his hands immediately go behind his back and shifts nervously from foot to foot. 

“Cas! Hey, uh- didn’t… we didn’t hear you come out-”

“We were just talking about-”

“The ball game-”

“Yeah, and, uh-”

“Is that… is there a ring in that box, Sam?”

He doesn’t move. Dean takes this opportunity to pat Sam on the back and shuffle his way back inside the bunker leaving the two of them in the warm summer evening. Castiel walks toward him.


“You weren’t…” he smiles and shakes his head. “You weren’t supposed to hear or see any of that…” by the time he looks up, Castiel is halfway over to him and Sam takes a breath before trekking out to meet him. “I don’t…” Sam laughs humorlessly. “I don’t know why. I mean, it’s stupid, right? For us? Marriage isn’t rational, not with how our lives are. But I.” Sam breathes in; Castiel can’t hear anything else. He can’t focus on anything else: just Sam’s wilted stature, the light softening his appearance, brightening the sunflower in his eyes, the box in his hands now in front of him that he nervously flips around. His heart beats faster and harder than Castiel’s. 

“For so long, I didn’t think I could feel that. Again. Not after…” He rubs at his eyes. “Not after Jess. You came into my life and you brought me back. And I know marriage is pretty much worthless considering… you’re an angel and I’m… christ, this is the worst proposal ever-” Tears slip down one of his cheeks; Castiel reaches to wipe it away.

“No. No, it isn’t.” He leans up to kiss him gently. “I want to, Sam. I want to be with you in every way that I can.” Then again and again until Sam has his arms around Castiel’s waist and Castiel can practically taste the sun between their lips.

“Will you marry me, Castiel?” He asks quietly. 

The angel smiles, nodding, whispering an ‘yes yes yesyes, I’ll marry you’. 

teen!sastiel au where a skinny little scruffy-haired 15 y/o sam who spends his time writing poetry meets cas, an 18 y/o rebel who dies his hair and writes music. they join together to match the lyrics and music and fall in love doing it :)

Y’know, when I first started shipping Sastiel, I was so worried that I wouldn’t find anyone on here who liked it as much as me. But, lo and behold, here you all are. And you have no idea how glad I am about that fact.

honorreid asked:

Sastiel: 16. Thanks!

Sastiel + the things you said with no space between us

They were curled together as they usually did on nights Sam couldn’t sleep, on nights he woke up with silent tears and lead limbs and the inability to open his mouth. He turned to find Castiel standing at the edge of the bed tugging his tie off, slipping out of his shoes and coat, pulling the comforter back, and settling between the sheets as Sam reached out for the collar of his shirt. 

Castiel let himself fall gently until Sam had curled into him, buried his face into his chest and let himself tremble in the angel’s arms. Many times Sam had laid there, many times had Castiel appeared when he prayed, many times had he woken up to the feeling of an ever widening hole in his chest, a divide so great he often wondered if his soul managed to fall into it upon waking. 

He felt empty, said nothing of the ache, and pressed his lips together hard enough to make it hurt. On the worst nights, he would beg for proof, for reassurance that he was alive. Castiel, with his hands threaded through Sam’s hair, would whisper about the cosmos, the earliest of all God’s creations, and the constellations that burned brighter than anything he could perceive. Sam would look up; Castiel would kiss his brow slowly then Sam’s lips and left them tingling with grace as he spoke against them:  

Your soul, the one inside of you now, was derived from the furthest, oldest stars, Sam. You resonate with their warmth, their light. And you are so… full of compassion and kindness. Forgiving. Merciful. I can… he sighed; a hand cupped Sam’s face. Castiel’s thumb slid from his chin down to his neck. I can’t help but feel as though you were what angels were supposed to be. Everything you are. Everything I see when I look at you. There is no… no hole inside of you. His hand slid further down to rest over Sam’s heart thudding wildly beneath. Can you feel that?  

Sam nodded. His lungs struggled to expand

It’s strong, Sam. 


You’re alive. So much more alive than anyone I’ve met. I am… in awe of you, Sam Winchester. Eternally.