⋆. 𐙚 ˚˚ CASTIEL NOVAK X F!READER ◞ WINCHESTER!READER
synopsis ! Ever since getting together, you've always loved pulling on Castiel's tie when going in for a kiss. You seem to have underestimated your own strength this time.
warnings ! takes place soon after season 10 ep 10, so careful of spoilers! ◞ reader is shorter than castiel (who's 5'11) but there's no mention of yhe exact difference ◞ i know that cas is technically not an angel anymore during this episode... but i just love the idea of calling him angel as a pet name!
word count ! 615
based on ! locked out of heaven by bruno mars.
“What are you doing?”
Castiel looked over to you, without stopping his movements, and gave you a shy smile. “Hi. I am—er, attempting to tie my tie.”
You made a small, shocked noise. “The ties are making a comeback? What's the special occasion?”
“Yes, I suppose they are.” he hummed. “Claire Novak. The other day she told me she prefers the ties. We've not been on the best of terms, not since..” he sighed. “Well, you know. So, I decided that this may be the start to get her to... warm up to me.”
“Cute,” you snickered. “Real adorable, Cas. Want some help with that?”
“Yes, please.” he sighed, yanking the fabric from around his neck. “I can say, I've never realized how difficult this would be.”
“You never had to learn?”
“No. Fortunately, Jimmy Novak was already wearing his tie. I don't remember if I had ever taken it off.”
“Hm,” you hummed, thinking back. “No, Angel, I don't think you ever did. It surprised me when you came one day without it. It was like seeing an entirely different person.”
Castiel smiled, handing you the tie. “I think you're exaggerating.”
“Maybe a little bit.” you winked.
To say you had more practice with ties than Castiel did was a vast understatement. Growing up hunting, your dad and Dean would usually pose as FBI and, for some reason unknown to you, chose to go the formal route with clothing—suits, ties, the whole ordeal. Dean even bought his own cufflinks one time.
With that, you were made to learn how to tie... well, ties by the ripe age of seven. Dad always said it was necessary and important to know. Which, thinking back on it, was ridiculous, because he never learned until your seventeenth birthday, and Dean still hadn't learned. Sam could do perfectly well on his own.
At the rate the four of you were going, hunting every free second you had, you've started keeping stocks of already knotted ties in a bedroom drawer. Dean said it was unnecessary and a waste of good practice. You still don't know what he meant by that.
And, some way, Castiel seemed to have found the one tie you've forgotten to knot.
“C'mere,” you gestured, climbing on top of a desk in the corner of your room. “Stand between my legs.”
Castiel did as told, because he always listens to you, and placed his hands on your legs. You wrapped the tie around his neck, pulling him close, making his wings twitch. “I think I quite like this position.”
You laughed. “Yeah?”
“Hmm,” he pretended to think, inching his way a little closer, just as you finished up tying the knot. His hands moved up and gave the outside of your thighs a squeeze. “Yes, honey, I believe I do.”
“Gosh, Cas,” you whispered, stifling another laugh. “You sure know how to talk all sweet.”
He was closer now. You could feel his breath on your lips, and it was almost as if you could feel his grace humming beneath his vessel. It was intoxicating.
Your hand slid back up, gripping just below the knot of the tie and pulling him harshly towards you, straight into a breathtaking kiss. Below the sound of Castiel grunting into your lips from the force, there was a distinct ripping sound.
“I think,” you sighed, pulling away. Cas moved a hand to your neck, stroking your cheek with his thumb as he watched you with content. “We may have popped a stitch.”
“We? May have?”
You smiled. “Hush. Luckily I have some more in a drawer. I hope you didn't love this one...”
“I think I can get by without it.”
author's note ! yay first cas fic!!! i just love him so much it's bordering on embarrassment @sstrangerheartss
hi hi, small little ask, but is there any way we could perhaps get cas with a midsize fem reader who actually likes the fact that reader has visible light brown stretch marks all and doesn’t have smooth/ even toned skin? maybe he just touches her everywhere with reverence in his eyes and just reassures her that there’s nothing wrong with the way she looks? smutty or suggestive preferred if you could, thank you!!
⋆｡ ˚ the map of you
summary ˚˖𓍢ִִ໋ castiel notices the parts of your body you’ve learned to hide, and touches them with such careful reverence that it becomes impossible to believe they were ever something wrong.
pairing ˚˖𓍢ִִ໋ castiel x reader ( f )
wordcount ˚˖𓍢ִִ໋ 763 genre ˚˖𓍢ִִ໋ suggestive fluff
warnings ˚˖𓍢ִִ໋ body insecurity, stretch marks, soft suggestive touching, praise, intimate reassurance
notes ˚˖𓍢ִ໋ ִ❀໋ consider supporting my work .ᐟ
you only realize you’ve gone still when castiel stops too.
his hand’s at your waist, warm through the thin fabric of your shirt, thumb resting just beneath the curve of your ribs. not moving. not pushing. waiting. he’s gotten better at that with you, at reading the tiny pauses you try to pretend aren’t there, the way your confidence sometimes trips over a piece of yourself you haven’t learned how to love out loud yet.
the room’s dim, lit only by the lamp on your nightstand and the weak strip of hallway light under the door. the bunker’s quiet for once. you’re sitting on the edge of your bed with castiel standing between your knees, coat already discarded over the chair, tie loose, hair a little messed from your fingers. he’d kissed you until your thoughts went soft around the edges. until you forgot to be careful.
then your shirt rode up.
his eyes had dropped to your stomach, to the light brown stretch marks curving over your skin, and your whole body had remembered itself too quickly.
“sorry,” you say, reaching for the hem.
castiel catches your hand before you can pull the fabric down. “why are you apologizing?”
you huff out a laugh that doesn’t really make it. “i don’t know. habit, i guess.”
his brows draw together. upset in that castiel way. as if the world has given him another human rule that’s both cruel and unnecessary, and he’s deciding whether to personally argue with it.
“you believe this is something to hide.”
you look away. “cas.”
“answer me.”
“it’s not—” you stop, annoyed with yourself, with the heat rising in your face, with how stupidly vulnerable it feels to be looked at by someone who never learned how to look casually. “my skin isn’t smooth. it’s not even. and i know you don’t care, but i care sometimes, which is embarrassing.”
castiel is quiet for a moment. then he kneels. your breath catches because he does it slowly, reverently, hands settling on your thighs as if he has all the time in creation and wants to spend all of it right here. his gaze lifts to yours first, asking without words.
you give him a small nod.
he pushes your shirt up a little more, careful enough to make your throat tighten. his fingertips touch the stretch marks on your stomach, tracing one pale-brown line and then another, following the soft paths over your skin as if they aren’t interruptions but details. important ones.
“these are part of you,” he murmurs.
you swallow. “yeah. unfortunately.”
his eyes sharpen, gentle but firm. “not unfortunately.”
he bends his head and presses his mouth to one mark, then another, the kisses slow and warm and so lacking in hesitation that your body doesn’t know what to do with it. your hand drifts into his hair, not pulling. just holding on.
“cas,” you whisper.
“your body has carried you,” he says against your skin. “changed with you. protected you. endured with you. i don’t understand why that would make it less beautiful.”
you close your eyes.
the praise should make you want to hide more. somehow, from him, it doesn’t. it settles low and deep, a little too tender to brush off with a joke.
his hands move over your hips, your waist, the soft fullness of your stomach, never once avoiding the places you expect him to skip. he touches you with open palms, with patience, with something almost devotional in his face when he looks up at you. not hungry in a careless way. hungry with attention.
“there’s nothing wrong with the way you look,” he says, and his voice is so steady it almost makes you angry, because part of you wants to argue and part of you wants to believe him so badly it hurts. “not here.”
his thumb brushes over your side.
“not here.”
another kiss, lower on your stomach.
“not anywhere.”
your eyes burn, and you laugh a little because crying during foreplay feels… very you, actually. “you’re making this really hard to be insecure about.”
castiel’s mouth softens against your skin. “good.”
you look down at him, at the serious line of his face, at the blue of his eyes gone dark with tenderness, and for once you don’t reach to cover yourself. you let him look. you let him touch. and when he rises to kiss you again and his hand is still spread over the marked softness of your waist, you almost believe your body was never asking for forgiveness in the first place.
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♋︎ 𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖗
2 / 12 ⭑ you’re gentle without being weak, and cas recognizes that as something rare.
๋࣭ ⭑ cas likes you almost immediately because your care has no performance in it. you notice when someone’s hurting. you listen. you make people feel less alone without demanding they explain every wound out loud. he doesn’t always know what to do with emotional softness, but he trusts yours because it has backbone. you would be kind to him without treating him like he’s broken, and that would stay with him.
♌︎ 𝖑𝖊𝖔
7 / 12 ⭑ your warmth draws him in, but your drama occasionally makes him stare into the middle distance for help.
๋࣭ ⭑ cas likes your loyalty. he likes your courage, your generosity, your way of making people feel chosen. the issue’s that you can be a little theatrical, and cas doesn’t always know when he’s supposed to respond seriously or simply let you sparkle. you call him “angel” with flair, and he takes one long, grave pause before saying, “yes. that is accurate.” you adore him. he’s trying his best.
♍︎ 𝖛𝖎𝖗𝖌𝖔
1 / 12 ⭑ you make sense to him: precise, helpful, observant, and quietly devoted.
๋࣭ ⭑ cas loves useful people. not in a cold way—in the sense that he understands love when it becomes action. you notice details, organize chaos, research thoroughly, correct mistakes before they become disasters, and offer care through competence. he’d trust your judgment quickly because you don’t waste words. you say what you mean. you fix what you can. to cas, that kind of devotion is practically holy.
♎︎ 𝖑𝖎𝖇𝖗𝖆
5 / 12 ⭑ you make human interaction look graceful, and cas studies you like a field guide.
๋࣭ ⭑ cas likes the way you move through people. you can soften a room, calm an argument, charm a witness, and somehow make everyone feel less strange. he doesn’t fully understand the mechanics, but he respects the result. you teach him social cues without making him feel stupid, and that earns you a special kind of trust. he may still answer your teasing compliments with alarming sincerity, though, so proceed carefully.
♏︎ 𝖘𝖈𝖔𝖗𝖕𝖎𝖔
6 / 12 ⭑ he trusts your depth, but he isn’t fooled by how much you hide.
๋࣭ ⭑ cas sees the shadows in you and doesn’t flinch. that’s why you work. he likes your loyalty, your intensity, the way you don’t waste affection on people who haven’t earned it. but he also knows when you’re testing him, and cas doesn’t always enjoy emotional traps disguised as silence. still, if the world turned ugly, he’d trust you to stay. maybe not softly. maybe not easily. but fully.
♐︎ 𝖘𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖚𝖘
11 / 12 ⭑ he likes your spirit, but you make him deeply concerned for traffic laws, sacred objects, and general consequences.
๋࣭ ⭑ cas admires your freedom. he does. you remind him that choice can be joyful instead of only painful. however, you also keep saying things like, “what’s the worst that can happen?” and cas has seen the worst. repeatedly. with paperwork. he enjoys your honesty and your humor, but he may quietly stand closer to you on hunts because he doesn’t trust you not to touch the glowing cursed thing.
♑︎ 𝖈𝖆𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖈𝖔𝖗𝖓
3 / 12 ⭑ you’re controlled, reliable, and difficult to impress, which makes cas respect you immediately.
๋࣭ ⭑ cas likes that you take responsibility seriously. you don’t make promises lightly, and when you commit to something, you follow through. he understands duty. he understands restraint. he understands carrying too much because somebody has to. the two of you might not be emotionally fluffy at first, but there’s trust. quiet trust. the kind built through showing up, not talking pretty.
♒︎ 𝖆𝖖𝖚𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖚𝖘
8 / 12 ⭑ you intrigue him because your mind works strangely, and cas has a soft spot for strange things.
๋࣭ ⭑ cas doesn’t mind that you’re different. honestly, he may prefer it. you ask odd questions, challenge assumptions, and look at the world sideways enough that he feels less alien around you. the problem’s emotional distance. when you detach, cas may not know whether you need space, comfort, or an exorcism. still, he appreciates your independence. he just wishes human feelings came with clearer instructions. same, babe.
♓︎ 𝖕𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖊𝖘
12 / 12 ⭑ he’s moved by your empathy, but worried you’ll let the world take too much from you.
๋࣭ ⭑ cas likes your kindness. deeply. but he also sees how easily you blur the line between compassion and self-sacrifice, and that hits a nerve for him. you want to save everything. every ghost, every victim, every broken person with sad eyes and a tragic backstory. cas understands that instinct too well, which is exactly why it worries him. he’d be gentle with you, protective even, but liking you would come with a lot of concern and one very serious angel stare.
♈︎ 𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘
9 / 12 ⭑ you confuse him, alarm him, and earn his respect in the same five minutes.
๋࣭ ⭑ cas likes your bravery, but he doesn’t understand why you keep choosing violence as a first language. you say, “i’ve got this,” right before doing something deeply unsafe, and he watches with that severe little squint like he’s trying to decide whether this is courage or poor survival instinct. still, you’re honest. you act when people need help. he trusts that part of you, even if he’d prefer you stop sprinting toward danger like it owes you money.
♉︎ 𝖙𝖆𝖚𝖗𝖚𝖘
4 / 12 ⭑ you feel calm to him, and cas is quietly fascinated by how steady you are.
๋࣭ ⭑ you don’t rush him. that matters more than you realize. cas likes how grounded you feel, how you can sit with silence without making it awkward, how you offer practical care without needing a dramatic reaction. you’d hand him a cup of coffee, remind him to rest, and not laugh if he took your advice too literally. he finds your stubbornness confusing, yes, but familiar. angels aren’t exactly famous for flexibility either.
♊︎ 𝖌𝖊𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖎
10 / 12 ⭑ you make him curious, but you also make him feel like he has missed four conversations happening inside one conversation.
๋࣭ ⭑ cas likes your mind. truly. he just needs a moment. you jump from topic to topic, joke too fast, flirt in a way he may or may not recognize three hours later, and ask questions that make him tilt his head like a confused bird of prey. he enjoys you more than he understands you. unfortunately, you also keep saying things that aren’t literal, and cas is one double entendre away from needing sam to translate.
♡ vamp!reader who feels immense guilt for her impulses. ever since the first time she smelt blood she knew she wouldn't be a able to cast aside and it made her feel bad. it really wasn't her fault, she was just born like this. she knows nothing about her past but that she's always needed blood, but felt guilty with how she had to get it...
♡ vamp!reader and castiel who let's you feed off of him whenever you need. you feel guilty but Cass reassures you, "I'm hurting you castiel..." you muttered, he layed his hand on yours, "it doesnt hurt, my vessel heals Intansty" he told you and although it was a half lie, it hurt a little, he didn't mind it at all.
♡ vamp!reader and castiel who listens to you and makes you feel so much less guilty about your craving for blood. "it is not your fault, you were simply born with it. you are not a bad person y/n" he rubs your hand as he talks, "you are... the most graceful person I've ever met. you carry so much guilt for something you cannot control, you just can't fathom that you're innocent here."
♡ vamp!reader whos the happiest you've ever been after meeting cass. you smile more, you finally feel like yourself, youve never had one but castiel feels like home. you are even healthier—in the vampire sense. every time after feeding on cass, you kiss the area and bandages it while he watches you, in awe.
♡ vamp!reader and castiel whos favorite thing is when he makes you smile, he doesn't know what to do with it but hes just determined to make you happy all the time.
♡ vamp!reader and castiel who when dean found out about what you guys were doing, defended you with everything he had inside of him. "she cannot control what she is. if you want to kill her you're going to have to kill me too". after a little while dean was ok with you, he didn't like you but he didn't hate you. he could tell cass had unbelievably strong feelings toward you. (sam on the other hand never cared)
♡ vamp!reader and castiel who cleans the blood off of her lips and body, while sweetly kissing the areas and whispering sweet things to her.
♡ vamp!reader and castiel who holds you as your head lays on his chest, and watches you sleep so soundly and peacefully, it makes him feel so warm inside like hes never felt before.
cheerleader!reader whos silly cheerful (＾▽＾) spirit differs from cass's serious, stern and protective personality.
cheerleader!reader and Castiel who admires you when he sees you practicing for routines and is dumbfounded when you talk about how "bad" you did or when someone critiques your work. youre perfect in his eyes "anything that is beautiful, people want to break. and you are beautiful, I'm afraid"
cheerleader!reader and Castiel who holds you and is upset when you come to him crying about how your coach changed your position because you messed it up, he was so irrationally angry at this coach for making you so upset.
cheerleader!reader and castiel who enjoys laying you down after a bad day, while your still in your cheer uniform and making love to you just how you want it. holding your hands and looking at your pretty face, watching your expressions. gently kissing you all around your body..
cheerleader!reader and castiel who everyday after practice brings you your favorite sweet, strawberry donuts, for you and you eat them while walking and talking about how everything went.
cheerleader!reader and castiel where, if there's a game, he tries to get Sam and dean to go to watch you, if they can't come he always goes, always. just to watch you dance and cheer, he watches and thinks about how much your practiced and how perfect you were. everytime you see him you get overly excited and wave at him. if you do any flying his heart speeds up everytime because he doesn't want you to get hurt.
the bunker is quieter at night than it ever is during the day. you wake without knowing why, blinking into the darkness of your room while the red numbers of the clock insist it is far too late for anyone to be awake.
sam and dean are probably dead asleep to the world after another hunt, and the silence presses gently against your ears until curiosity gets the better of you. you slip on a sweater over your pajamas and wander through the library before pushing open the heavy door that leads outside.
you spot him almost immediately. castiel is sitting on the weathered bench a few feet from the bunker entrance, elbows resting on his knees, tie slightly crooked as always. he isn’t doing anything in particular, only looking up at the stars with the kind of patient attention that makes it seem like they’re speaking directly to him.
when the door creaks behind you, he turns his head, blue eyes finding yours without surprise. “you’re awake,” he says simply, as if he expected you all along.
you smile sleepily and walk over. “so are you.”
he considers that for a second before answering, “I suppose I am.”
you sit beside him, leaving just enough space that your sleeves brush together whenever the breeze shifts. “couldn’t sleep?” you ask. castiel nods once.
“angels do not require much rest, but I have found that humans are often comforted by quiet nights. I wanted to understand why.”
you let out a small laugh. “and? did you figure it out?” he looks back at the stars.
“not entirely. but I believe part of it is the absence of expectation. no one is asking anything of you at this hour.” his voice is calm and thoughtful in that familiar way that makes even simple observations sound profound. “how are you?” he asks after a moment, turning the question back to you with genuine concern.
“tired,” you admit. “but okay.”
he watches you for another second and says, “I’m glad.”
the wind grows colder as the minutes drift by, rustling through the grass and carrying the faint scent of rain somewhere far away. you tug your sweater tighter around yourself, but the chill still creeps into your hands and shoulders. castiel notices almost immediately.
"your temperature has dropped,” he says softly.
"that’s usually what happens when you're outside at two in the morning.” the corner of his mouth lifts into something so close to a smile that anyone else would miss it. without thinking too hard about it, you lean sideways until your head rests against his shoulder, the fabric of his trench coat cool beneath your cheek.
“better,” you mumble.
castiel becomes perfectly still, as though afraid any movement might disturb you. after a few moments, his posture softens, and you feel his arm settle carefully around your shoulders. you can hear the faint rhythm of his breathing and the distant chorus of insects somewhere beyond the bunker grounds.
your eyelids grow heavier until staying awake feels impossible. you don’t even realize you’ve started drifting off until your thoughts blur into dreams, your weight sinking more fully against him. somewhere far away, you hear him murmur your name to make sure you’re comfortable, but you only answer with a tiny contented sound and nestle closer.
instead of waking you, he adjusts his hold ever so slightly, making certain your neck isn’t bent awkwardly. to anyone watching, it would seem almost unbelievable that the once-feared angel of the lord could sit so patiently on an old wooden bench, simply making sure you slept peacefully.
just before sleep claims you completely, you feel the gentlest press of lips against your temple. castiel’s voice is barely above a whisper, carried away almost instantly by the night breeze. “rest well,” he says. “you have carried enough for one day.”
his fingers tighten just enough around your shoulder to keep the cold away, and he remains there beneath the stars without complaint, content to watch over you until morning arrives, as if there is nowhere else in the universe he would rather be.
