Hiii! Could you maybe write some Castiel smut? ☺️ I'm thinking human!Cas has put on some weight and is feeling insecure but gf!reader has ways of convincing him he's still very much desirable heehee. Thank you. 💕
summary,, cas seems to see himself as unworthy of love because of his weight gain. you think there's no such thing.
word count,, 1,715
pairing,, human!cas x fem!reader
tags/genre,, smut!! (18+), body appreciation, body positivity (receiving), comfort, riding, praise, some fluff
A shirt that used to hang loose now fits a little closer around Cas' stomach. His old coat pulls tighter when he buttons it. His face is softer, less sharp around the jaw. Human things.
Weight settles differently on a body that eats late-night takeaway with Dean and spends entire afternoons asleep beside you instead of wandering the Earth like some haunted cryptid.
Still, he starts tugging at his clothes more.
Pulling hoodies down over himself. Sitting up straighter when he catches you looking. Quiet in ways that don’t feel natural for him anymore.
You don’t realise how deep it’s gotten until one night in the bunker kitchen.
He’s standing in front of the fridge in grey sweatpants and an old shirt, staring at himself in the dark reflection of the microwave.
“I think,” he says carefully, “I'm becoming... unpleasant to look at.”
“My vessel never changed before. I did not have to think about these things.” He looks genuinely frustrated, arms folded over his middle like he’s trying to hide it. “Now all I eat contains sodium and suddenly my stomach has betrayed me.”
You snort before you can help it.
His frown deepens. “You're laughing.”
“You said that like a Victorian man dying of tuberculosis.”
“I do not think tuberculosis causes abdominal fat.”
Cas huffs quietly and looks away again, and the humour drains out of you almost immediately because underneath it, he looks embarrassed. Really embarrassed.
You walk over slowly, stopping between him and the counter.
“Hey,” you murmur. “Look at me.”
Reluctantly, his eyes lift.
“You know I love you, right?”
“I know,” he says quickly. Too quickly. Like he’s trying to say it before the doubt catches up.
You rest your hands on his waist anyway. Deliberate and warm. Not avoiding anything.
His stomach tenses beneath your palms. “There,” you whisper, squeezing lightly. “That’s the problem.”
“You thinking I wouldn’t want to touch you anymore.”
Humans have always confused him a little. Not the complicated things—war, grief, sacrifice—but the tiny cruelties people do to themselves without even noticing. The way they decide they’ve become unworthy because their body changed shape.
You lean up, kissing the corner of his mouth.
“Baby, do you know how attractive you are?”
“Nope.” Another kiss. “Wrong already.”
He tries to argue again, but you slip your hands under his shirt this time, palms warm against the softness of his stomach, and his breath catches hard enough that it cuts him off completely.
“There we go,” you tease softly. “Interesting reaction for someone who thinks he’s undesirable.”
Cas flushes instantly. Pink climbs all the way up his neck.
“You're distracting me from my point.”
“I’m making a better one.”
He looks wrecked already, poor thing. Human Cas never learned how to handle being wanted. Every touch still surprises him a little.
You trail your fingers slowly across his stomach, then lower, just enough to make him inhale sharply.
“Besides,” you say quietly, “I like this.”
“Mhm.” You nudge his nose with yours. “You’re warm now. Comfortable. You give good hugs. Ten out of ten. Very cuddleable.”
“That is not usually considered seductive.”
Something soft flickers across his face then. Not fully confidence yet, but close enough to touch.
You kiss him properly this time, slow and deep, and the second he melts into it, you feel it: the way he stops holding himself so rigidly. The way his hands finally settle on your waist instead of hovering uncertainly nearby.
“You know,” you mumble against his mouth, “if you keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna think you’re trying to seduce me.”
“I am,” Cas admits immediately.
You grin. “Good. Because it’s working.”
Cas looks at you for another second like he’s still trying to understand how you can mean every word so easily. Then his hand settles at your waist, warm and certain now, and he kisses you again. Deeper this time, enough to leave both of you breathless.
“Come here,” you murmur against his mouth.
The walk to the bedroom is clumsy in that very human way Cas still hasn’t gotten used to; hands wandering, shoulders bumping into doorframes, half-finished kisses stolen between steps. By the time the backs of your knees hit the mattress, he’s smiling for the first time all evening.
“Let me show you,” you murmur, “how much I love every part of you.”
You tug at the hem of his shirt. He lifts his arms, letting you pull it over his head. His skin is warm, his chest soft, his stomach a gentle curve that you trace with your fingertips. He holds his breath.
He lets it out in a shaky exhale.
You lean in, kissing the spot right below his ribs, then lower, pressing your lips to the dip of his navel, then lower still, just above the waistband of his sweatpants. His hands come down to rest on your hair, showing that he just needs to touch you.
“You're so beautiful,” you say against his skin. “Every inch of you.”
He makes a small sound, almost a whimper.
You push his sweatpants down, taking his boxers with them, and he lifts his hips to help. He's half-hard already, cock curving up against his belly, and you wrap your hand around him gently, stroking once, twice, feeling him twitch.
“Look at you,” you breathe. “So hard for me already.”
His cheeks flush, but he doesn't look away.
But tonight, you want something different. You want to be the one taking control, guiding his body into yours. You stand, shedding your own clothes quickly—denim and cotton pooling on the floor. His eyes follow every inch of skin as it's revealed.
“Lie back,” you say softly.
He does, stretching out on the bed, his head on your pillow. The way the dim light plays across his body makes him look like something out of a dream—soft edges, warm skin, his cock lying heavy against his belly.
You climb onto the bed, straddling his hips. His breath catches as your thighs bracket his waist, his hands automatically coming up to rest on your hips.
“Just like that,”you whisper, leaning forward. You brush your lips against his, then pull back to look him in the eye. “You have no idea how good you look under me.”
His throat works as he swallows. “I—”
“Shh.” You press a finger to his lips. “Let me show you.”
You reach back, wrapping your hand around his cock, positioning him at your entrance. You're already wet, slick and ready, and when you start to sink down onto him, you both gasp.
The stretch is perfect, slow and deep, your body opening to take him inch by inch. You let your head fall back, eyes closed, feeling every ridge and pulse of him filling you completely. His fingers tighten on your hips, not gripping, just steadying.
When he's fully inside you, you pause, seated flush against him. You open your eyes and look down at him. His face is flushed, his lips parted, his eyes dark and full of wonder.
“There,” you murmur. “That's where you belong.”
You start to move, a slow, rolling grind of your hips. You set the rhythm, deep and gentle, designed to draw out every sensation. His hands slide up from your hips to your waist, your ribs, finally coming to rest on the soft swell of your breasts as they bounce with your movements.
“God, you feel good inside me,” you say, your voice husky. “So thick, so perfect.”
He groans, his hips twitching, but he lets you set the pace. You rock against him, taking what you need, your clit pressing against the base of his shaft with each rotation. It's exactly the right angle, exactly the right pressure.
“Look at you,”you whisper, reaching down to cup his face. His eyes meet yours. “So perfect for me. Your body, your cock, the way you give me everything.”
His mouth parts as his hands come up to cover yours. “You're—”
“I know,” you say with a small smile. “But right now, we're talking about you.“
You pick up the pace, grinding harder, faster, chasing that building heat in your belly. He fills you so completely, hitting that sweet spot deep inside with every rock of your hips. Your thighs start to tremble from the effort, but you don't stop.
“Feel me taking you?” you ask, and his eyes roll back.
“That's right,” you breathe. “I've got you. I've got all of you.”
He moves beneath you, a gentle roll of his hips in rhythm with yours, meeting you halfway. His hands find your hips again, guiding but not controlling, and you let him—let him feel you riding him, let him watch your body move over his.
“I can feel you getting close,” you say, noticing the way his breathing hitches, the way his cock throbs inside you. “You gonna come for me?”
“Please—” His hands find your waist, gripping just a little tighter. “Please, I want—”
“I know what you want.” You slide one hand down between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles as you ride him harder. “Come for me, baby. Let me feel you.”
That's all it takes. He cries out, his back arching off the bed, his release flooding into you in hot, thick pulses.
The feeling of him coming undone beneath you, the way his cock pulses inside you, that's enough to push you over the edge. You follow with a moan, your body clenching around him, your climax rippling through you in waves.
You collapse forward, pressing your chest to his, your face buried in the curve of his neck. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close, both of you breathing hard and trembling.
After a long moment, you lift your head just enough to look at him.
“That,” you whisper, “was incredible.”
He laughs weakly, wonder slowly reconstructing into a smile. “That was... a lot.”
“Good.” You kiss the corner of his mouth. “You deserve to be worshipped, Cas. Every inch of you.”
✧ 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆.ᐟ // ✧𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 // ✧𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒃𝒐𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆.ᐟ
