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mariasloss · 2 months ago

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His Wings

Masterlist, AO3 Cas x AFAB!fem!Reader Word count: 2.7k

Summary: Castiel shows up at your motel room seeking help with his wings. However, when you discover just how sensitive angel wings are, you end up helping him with something else 🤭

Content: smut !! wink kink, grace kink, mutual pining, grinding, intense making out, body worship, p in v sex, cas is vocal ;), cowgirl, switch!castiel, no use of Y/N

A/N ahhhhh sorry this took so long I hope you guys enjoy and please lmk how we feel about the wing kink this was definitely self indulgent 🤭 Feel free to message me with any requests <3

The hunt had gone worse than any of you had expected. What was supposed to be a simple salt-and-burn had escalated into a full-blown demon expulsion, leaving you completely drained. Even with Castiel healing the worst of your injuries, the deep ache in your muscles could only be cured by a solid night’s sleep.

So when you finally made it back to the motel, you wasted no time saying goodnight to Sam and Dean before retreating to your room. Dropping your gear by the door, you headed straight for the shower, stripping as you went. The water was still ice-cold when you stepped in, but you were too impatient to wait for it to warm up. You rinsed off quickly and stepped out of the shower, wrapping yourself in a towel. With a tired sigh, you realized you’d forgotten to grab your pajamas. Too exhausted to think much of it, you walked out of the bathroom and headed straight for your suitcase, rummaging through it without a second thought.

“Hello.”

The unexpected voice made you freeze.

You let out a startled squeak, whipping around so fast your towel nearly slipped. Your heart pounded as your eyes darted toward the source of the voice—only to find Cas standing stiffly in the corner, looking thoroughly uncomfortable.

“Oh my god, Cas! You scared me!” you exhaled, pressing a hand to your chest as you tried to steady your breathing.

“I apologize. That was not my intention,” he said, eyes dropping to the floor.

You sighed, your initial shock fading. “No, it’s okay,” you reassured him, your voice softer now. “It’s just been a long day. Let me change, and then we can talk, yeah?”

Cas gave a small nod, saying nothing.

Grabbing the first T-shirt and shorts you could find, you shuffled back into the bathroom to change. This wasn’t the first time he had come to your room at night to talk, but it still caught you off guard—especially so soon after a hunt. Usually, he disappeared for a while afterward, off on his own for reasons he never fully explained.

Which meant whatever he needed now was important.

After changing, you ran a brush through your hair, taking a few extra seconds to collect yourself. With a deep breath, you stepped back into the room.

Your brows furrowed as you took in the scene—Cas was still standing exactly where you had left him, unmoving in the corner. Something was definitely off.

Walking over to the couch, you sat down and patted the space beside you. “Cas, honey, please come sit,” you said gently, watching him carefully.

He nodded but didn’t speak, his stiff movements only adding to your growing concern. As he made his way over, you noticed the way his shoulders rolled uncomfortably, a slight wince flickering across his face as he perched on the edge of the couch, eyes fixed on the wall.

You sighed. “Look,” you started, leaning toward him, “I can tell something’s wrong. What is it?”

Cas finally turned his gaze to you, his expression tight with frustration.

“It’s my wings,” he admitted after a moment. “They were injured… and I can’t heal them like usual.”

Your chest tightened at thought he’d been in pain since the hunt. “Cas,” you said softly, turning to fully face him. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

He hesitated, his jaw clenching as he looked away. “Because I thought I could endure it,” he admitted. “I’ve fought through worse injuries before. I assumed my grace would eventually repair the damage.” His fingers curled slightly against his knee. “But it hasn’t.” He exhaled slowly, as if the admission itself was difficult. “I need assistance.”

“What can I do?” you asked gently.

He looked nervous, his fingers twitching against his knee. “My wings…” He exhaled slowly, as if steeling himself. “They need tending to. When injured, angels usually rely on another to… preen.” He shifted uncomfortably.

You blinked, processing his words. “Preen?”

Cas gave a small nod. “The damage isn’t just to the bone or muscle—my feathers are in disarray. When they’re like this, my grace struggles to mend them.” He looked at you then, something vulnerable in his expression. “If you—if you comb through them, remove the damaged feathers and align the rest, it may help.”

Your heart stuttered at the weight of his request. You knew how personal, how sacred they were to him. “You’re sure?” you asked softly. “Cas, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I trust you,” he said simply.

That single sentence sent warmth flooding through you. You reached out, resting your hand lightly on his. “Okay,” you said, offering him a reassuring smile. “Then show me.”

“You need to close your eyes—I don’t want to blind you.”

Not needing to be told twice, you shut your eyes. The couch shifted as Cas stood, and a moment later, the air in the room grew heavy—charged, like the stillness before a storm. The energy pressed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You can look now,” Castiel said quietly.

You opened your eyes, and your breath caught in your throat.

His wings stretched far beyond the couch, their dark feathers gleaming under the dim motel light. They were massive, breathtaking—but not unscathed. Several feathers were bent at odd angles, some ruffled, others missing entirely. He held them tensely, careful with every movement, as if even the slightest shift brought him discomfort.

Slowly, you rose to your feet, taking in the sight before stepping closer. “Cas,” you whispered, awestruck. “You’re beautiful.”

He exhaled, almost as if he’d been holding his breath, and gave a small, almost bashful nod.

“Do you want to lie down on the bed?” you asked gently.

He nodded once before disappearing and reappearing shirtless and facedown on the bed. In any other situation, you might have laughed at how abrupt it was. Instead, you followed, climbing onto the bed and carefully straddling his back to position yourself over his wings.

“Is this okay?” you asked softly.

Cas hummed in response, his body still tense beneath you.

Taking a steadying breath, you reached out, running your fingers carefully through his feathers. They were impossibly soft, but beneath that softness, you could feel the damage—the uneven patches, the tangled barbs, the missing pieces where his wings should have been whole.

Gently, you smoothed the ruffled feathers, watching as the tension melted from Cas’s body. His quiet, breathy moans sent a flush of warmth to your cheeks, but you kept your focus steady. Moving outward, your fingers carefully combed through the silken plumes, untangling and aligning them with soft, deliberate strokes. The sensation was mesmerizing—each feather carrying a subtle pulse of energy that seeped into your fingertips, spreading a soothing calm through you.

As you reached the outer edges, Cas instinctively drew his wings inward, bringing them closer to you. The silent gesture sent a shiver down your spine—a wordless invitation, an unspoken trust. With newfound determination, you continued, your touch gentle but assured.

Time slipped away as you worked, and before you knew it, you were nearly finished. The only place left was the base of his wings, where they connected to his body. Without thinking, your hands drifted lower, fingers pressing into the tense muscles at his shoulders just grazing his wings.

The reaction was immediate. Cas’s entire body tensed beneath you, a loud, unrestrained moan muffled against the pillow. Startled, you pulled your hands back, heat rushing to your face.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—” you stammered, but before you could finish, Cas turned his head, his breath heavy, eyes dark with something unreadable.

“No, please,” he murmured, his voice rough, raw. “Please don’t stop.”

Your breath caught at the desperation in his voice, the way his fingers curled into the sheets as he waited—hoped—for your touch to return. His wings trembled slightly, the dark feathers shifting with the steady rise and fall of his breath.

Swallowing hard, you hesitated only a moment before slowly placing your hands back on his shoulders. His skin was warm beneath your fingertips, his muscles still taut with tension. You pressed gently at first, then deeper, kneading the knots where his wings met his body.

Cas let out a deep, shuddering breath, his head tilting slightly to the side, exposing the curve of his neck. You couldn't ignore the way his body reacted under your touch—the subtle twitches, the way his breath hitched with each careful movement of your hands. It was intoxicating, feeling him this vulnerable, this undone beneath you.

“Is this helping?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Cas hummed in response, his wings giving the slightest flutter. “Yes,” he exhaled, his voice strained, like he was barely holding himself together.

Encouraged, you continued, your fingers working deeper, tracing the strong lines of his back, the sensitive connection between flesh and feather. With each movement, Cas’s breathing grew heavier, his body relaxing further, yet still holding an edge of tension that sent warmth curling low in your stomach.

“Cas…” you whispered, not even sure what you were asking.

His fingers flexed against the sheets, his wings twitching as he turned his head just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes were darker now, filled with something deep, something needy.

“This is… different,” he admitted, voice husky. “Something is happening to me.”

You swallowed, your pulse quickening. “What do you mean?”

Cas inhaled sharply, his wings flexing beneath your touch. “Angel wings are…sensitive. ” His lashes fluttered as he exhaled slowly. “I’ve never had anyone touch me like this before.”

A shiver ran through you at his words, at the unspoken meaning behind them. The energy between you crackled, invisible but tangible, pressing against your skin like static in the air before a storm. You weren’t just helping him with his wings anymore.

You could stop. You should stop.

But you didn’t want to.

Instead, you let your hands drift lower, your fingers tracing slow, careful circles over the sensitive base of his wings. Cas groaned, his back arching ever so slightly, pressing into your touch rather than pulling away. The sound sent a bolt of heat through you, igniting something primal, something electric between you both.

The air around you thrummed with energy, his grace pressing against your skin, calling to you in ways you didn’t fully understand—but felt deep in your core.

Slowly, almost experimentally, you let your hands drift lower, tracing along his spine before skimming the base of his wings again. Cas let out a sharp gasp, his body tensing beneath you, and then, in a sudden burst of movement, he shifted, flipping onto his back beneath you.

Now straddling his waist, you were met with the full sight of him laid bare before you—his toned torso, his flushed skin, his lips slightly parted as he gazed up at you, eyes dark with something raw and unrestrained.—his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths, his lips slightly parted.

You felt his need pressed against your thigh. His wings spread beneath him, stretching wide, dark and gleaming against the cheap motel sheets. They twitched slightly as you reached out, brushing your fingers along the silky feathers. Cas’s breath hitched, his grip tightening on the fabric beneath him. You experimentally rolled your hips, watching his head roll back onto the pillow.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he murmured, voice low and strained, his hands twitching at his sides as if restraining himself.

“Then show me,” you whispered, leaning down so your lips were just inches from his.

That was all the invitation he needed.

In a flash, his hands found your waist, gripping you firmly as he pulled you down against him. His lips crashed into yours, urgent and desperate, years of restraint unraveling in an instant. A quiet moan escaped you as he deepened the kiss, his hands sliding beneath your shirt, fingers exploring the bare skin of your back.

The heat between you grew unbearable, the friction intoxicating as your bodies moved together. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly, and Cas groaned into your mouth, his grip tightening on your hips. You gasped as he rolled his hips up against you, the hardness of him undeniable through the thin layers of clothing still between you.

“Cas…” you breathed, your forehead pressed to his, your body aching for more.

His eyes met yours, dark with something raw and unrestrained. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, but laced with reverence.

Instead of answering with words, you reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head before tossing it aside. Cas’s breath caught as his gaze roamed over you, his hands following soon after, exploring every inch of newly exposed skin. His touch was warm, reverent, as if memorizing you with his fingertips.

There was no hesitation after that.

Your clothes disappeared piece by piece, the air between you thick with heat and longing. Lips never strayed far from each other, hands exploring, discovering every inch of bare skin. Every touch sent a shiver through you, every kiss deepening the ache that only he could satisfy.

When you finally sank down onto him, a deep, guttural moan rumbled from Cas’s throat, his fingers tightening around your hips like he was anchoring himself to you. The stretch was slow, deliberate, leaving you breathless as your bodies molded together perfectly.

Cas’s head fell back, his lips parted as he let you take control, his grip guiding you but never forcing. His hands roamed your body, memorizing every curve, every tremor of pleasure that rippled through you. The way he looked at you—reverent, awestruck—only made the fire in your veins burn hotter.

But soon, his control frayed.

With a low growl, he flipped you beneath him, his wings flaring wide as he settled between your legs. His forehead pressed to yours, his breath warm and uneven against your lips as he moved with slow, deliberate thrusts. Every inch of him filled you completely, each roll of his hips sending pleasure spiraling through you. He savored it, savoring you, his hands gripping your thighs as he buried himself deeper.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, nails raking down his back as the slow, controlled rhythm turned desperate. The soft moans and gasps between you blended into something raw and unrestrained, your name falling from his lips like a prayer as he drove into you with a need that went beyond the physical.

His grace pulsed around you, through you, wrapping you in warmth and electricity, heightening every sensation. It felt like you were floating, like you were tethered to something far greater than yourself—tethered to him.

Cas’s lips found yours again as the pleasure built to something overwhelming. His thrusts grew erratic, his grip tightening as he lost himself completely in you. Your name spilled from his lips, rough and desperate.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured between ragged breaths.

You obeyed his order, pleasure pulsing through your body. Behind closed eyelids, a brilliant blue light flooded the room—his grace pulsing outward, washing over you like a wave. Your body arched, every nerve alight as you shattered beneath him, pulling him over the edge with you.

A low, broken moan escaped him as he buried himself deep one final time. You opened your eyes and watched as his entire body trembled above you. His wings twitched, feathers quivering as he exhaled a shaky breath, pressing a kiss to your temple, then your lips, lingering as if he never wanted to part from you.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, still tangled in each other, your bodies slick with sweat, hearts pounding in unison.

When Cas finally lifted his head, his gaze softened, fingers tracing over your cheek with something close to awe.

“You are… divine,” he murmured, his voice adoring.

You smiled, fingers trailing through his hair as you pulled him down beside you. “I could say the same about you.”

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, his wings folding protectively around your bodies as the world outside faded away.

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mariasloss · 2 months ago

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Sex Curse

Masterlist, AO3 Cas x AFAB!fem!Reader Word count: 5.4k Summary: Castiel gets hit with a sex curse on a hunt. He goes to you with the hope you have the cure 🤭

Content: smut!! sex curse (f*ck or die), praise kink, making out, body worship, p in v sex, innocent cas, cas loses his virginity, switch!castiel, breast play, cowgirl, missionary, oral sex fem!recieving, cumplay, no use of Y/N

A/N - YALL I AM SICK this has to be the freakiest thing I've ever written ;) This is the fic from the last poll and the finished version of Sex Curse (Sneak Peek), I'm so sorry it took a bit but I hope this makes up for it ☺️ Also PS click HERE to join the tag list!!

On the outside, the case didn’t seem like anything special. The article titled "Two Victims Found Dead in Cult-Like Ritual" had caught your attention. After arriving in the small town, you quickly discovered a witch who was targeting virgins and using their blood for spellwork. It was nasty, but unfortunately common in your line of work. As the designated researcher of the Winchester duo, you figured you'd be of little to no use in this case.

Your days often consisted of long library stays and obscure lectures from forgotten professors. And while you occasionally joined a hunt, you’d be lying if you said it was where your natural talents lay.

Sam, Dean, and Cas had left hours ago. You’d offered to accompany them, but they claimed it wasn’t necessary. Someone needed to “protect home base,” as Dean had put it. Home base being a motel room that hadn’t been remodeled since the 70s. In reality, you knew they just wanted you researching the ever looming apocalypse 24/7—but you didn’t mind. It gave you an uninterrupted evening, which was incredibly rare on the road.

You sat cross-legged on the bed, a book resting in your lap, humming softly to yourself as you scribbled down notes. Having long since changed out of your typical day to day outfit, you wore only a tank top and some boy short underwear. With the boys out, you had the freedom to wear whatever you pleased and you were not wasting the opportunity. The Book of Enoch sat open before you. You had read the book far too many times, but with the issue at hand, you decided it needed a closer look. It was an ancient Jewish religious text that fascinated you with its descriptions of demon origins, the fall of angels, and the birth of Nephilim. You thought of Castiel as you read—your own personal angel and greatest philosophical resource. You wondered if he had seen what was depicted… if he had participated.

Your thoughts were cut off as your phone rang loudly from the bedside table. Flipping it open, you saw the screen flash DEAN OTHER PHONE and clicked Answer.

“Hey Dean, everything alright?” you asked casually.

“No. Listen—something went wrong. It’s Cas.” He spoke quickly, voice gruff. “The witch hit him with a spell and he’s—” Dean cut himself off.

“He’s what?” Your voice clipped, fear bubbling up inside you.

He sighed over the phone. “Look, I think we’ve seen something like it before. He’ll be fine, but the curse is a bitch.”

“What is it, Dean?” You were already getting off the bed, ready to prepare ingredients for whatever cure you’d need to make.

“It’s a sex curse.” His words made you freeze. “It’ll wear off eventually… after he—you know. We were gonna try getting him a chick at the local bar, but he’s refusing.”

You were silent for a moment as your brain caught up. “So if he doesn’t have sex, then what?” your voice was meek.

“He’ll die. At least we think so. I’m not sure if it’s different for angels.” Dean groaned, and you could picture him running a hand over his face in exasperation. “I wouldn’t have called you if I didn’t need to.”

Your heart stopped.

“We told him it wasn’t a good idea, but he wants to go to you. He thinks you might be able to find a cure in time."

“Dean—I’ve never seen anything like this. I don’t even know where to begin—”

A fluttering of wings behind you made you pause.

You hung up the phone and turned around.

You felt your chest constrict at the sight in front of you. Castiel stood stiffly in the center of your motel room, his eyes darting around until they landed on you. He looked disoriented, and you watched as a painful looking shiver racked his body.

“Castiel” you spoke softly, as if speaking to a wild animal.

His eyes stayed trained on you as his brows furrowed. “Something’s wrong.”

You took a slow step toward him. “I know. Dean told me. You were hit with a curse.”

His hands twitched at his sides. “I thought I was injured, but there’s no wound. It just… burns. I no longer feel in control of my vessel.” He closed his eyes, jaw tightening. “I’m trying to heal myself but it isn’t working.”

“Okay–” you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. “I don’t know what Dean told you, but I don’t know how to fix this,” you admitted, walking over to the spell books you had open on the nearby desk. You grabbed the most promising one, and flipped through it.

“I’ve read about lust spells, compulsion magic—but this? This sounds more advanced than anything I know. Do you happen to know what the witch said when she cursed you, Dean didn’t say on the phone.” you asked, looking up from the book. Castiel’s eyes darkened slightly as he tried to focus on your words, but there was something hazy behind his gaze — like he couldn’t quite pay attention, his eyes drifting up and down your body. You felt your cheeks heat up as you remembered what you were wearing, knowing it certainly wasn’t helping.

“I… don’t know what she said,” he admitted, voice strained. “There was blood. Symbols. She pressed her hand to my chest and whispered something—It might have been latin. And then it started.”

You nodded, flipping frantically through the spellbook, scanning for anything remotely similar. You were met with pages on siren magic, succubi, enchantment sigils—but nothing that described this exact situation.

“Well, we know it’s a sex curse.” you said carefully, eyes flicking up to him.

He blinked, confused. “I don’t understand. What does that mean?”

You hesitated, your fingers freezing mid-turn on the page. “It’s… a spell that targets desire. It forces your body to crave intimacy. Physical release. And if you don’t… it can kill you. Although, I’m not entirely sure what it will do to you.”

Castiel stood still, processing. “Angels aren’t—we’re not meant to experience that,” he said slowly, his hand pressing against his chest like he could calm the burning beneath his skin. “My grace is reacting abnormally. I’ve never felt this before –” he paused, “I won’t be able to hold it off much longer”.

You stepped closer, carefully, placing the book down on the desk. “That’s what the curse does. It’s made to make you feel powerless until you… give in.”

He groaned softly—just a breath, but it hit you in the chest. His posture slouched for the first time, looking more human than you had ever seen him.

“I can feel it spreading,” he said, his voice cracking. “It’s worse now. The closer you get to me – the more I feel it. I can’t—I can’t stop thinking of you.” his eyes went wide, as if realizing what he just said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Hey, hey.” You stepped closer and gently grabbed his arm. He was burning up, his grace fighting to keep the vessel stable. “Don’t apologize. It’s the curse, Cas. It’s feeding off the closest connection you have—and that happens to be me right now.”

His breath caught, and he looked at you like he wanted to say something else but didn’t know how.

You pulled him gently toward the bed. “Sit down. Just breathe for a second. I’m going to keep looking, okay?”

He sat, clearly struggling not to reach for you again. His fingers gripped the edge of the blanket like he needed the grounding.

As he adjusted himself on the bed, your eyes unintentionally flicked downward—and then you froze.

There was a noticeable bulge in his slacks, and the way he quickly tugged his trench coat over his lap didn’t escape your attention. His face flushed, a rare sight, and he looked anywhere but at you. The tension in his jaw hardened as though he could will the arousal away by sheer force of will.

You looked away quickly, not wanting to embarrass him further—but it was too late. He’d seen the glance.

“I—I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice cracking. “I don’t understand. It’s never happened before and I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” you said quickly, voice soft. “I know you can’t help it. It’s not your fault, Cas.”

He nodded to himself, like your words had made the entire situation okay. You watched the subtle tremble in his hands, the tension rippling through his vessel like something primal was trying to claw its way out.

“You’re wrong you know”, he spoke, his voice low and hoarse. “About the curse – it isn’t abstract desire.”

Your eyes met his, wide with surprise. He wasn’t looking at you like the angel you knew. He was looking at you how a man looked at a woman. Your heart clenched at the intensity.

“Even when it first hit me,” he continued, voice strained like every word physically pained him, “I could only think of you”.

You swallowed hard, your heart thudding loud in your ears.

“Castiel… you don’t know what you’re saying” you whispered, unsure whether to comfort or pull away.

“I tried to resist it,” he said, eyes pleading. “But my body—this vessel—reacted. Your voice. Your hands. Your warmth. It’s all I could think about, all I can think about.”

He looked down at the ground, curling in on himself. “You’ve always been the object of my desires” he admitted, almost ashamed. “It’s not right for me to feel this way.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

The room felt too quiet as his words settled over you. You’ve always been the object of my desires. You hadn't expected that. Not from the angel who once looked at humanity like a mystery to be solved, not felt.

Your fingers itched to reach for him, to offer comfort and relief from the spell coursing through his veins. But fear rooted you in place. Fear that this wasn’t real. That it wasn’t truly him speaking, but the curse bending his thoughts.

“Cas…” you breathed, voice thick with emotion. “I care about you.”

He looked at you like those words alone kept him breathing.

“That’s why I need to be honest,” you added gently, stepping closer. “This spell—it might be making your emotions stronger, or confusing them. And I need to know that what you’re feeling… what you’re saying—it’s really you.”

His gaze faltered, pain flashing in his eyes, but you didn’t let the silence stretch too long.

“You have always been important to me, even before any of this. And once we break this spell—if you still feel the same—I’ll be right here. I promise.”

He trembled, hands fisting the blanket, but he nodded ever so slightly.

You turned to the desk and sat down, grabbing an old leather book. Its pages smelled of dust and rose petals, and you prayed it held something useful.

“I’m going to fix this,” you whispered, fingers brushing the parchment. “Just… keep holding on. Stay with me, okay?”

Behind you, his voice came like a vow, quiet and unwavering. “I am with you.” You flipped through the pages feverishly, trying to focus despite the way your heart thundered with every broken breath Castiel took behind you.

Each passing second, his quiet groans grew louder and more desperate. At first, he’d been sitting up, fists clenched tight around the motel blanket—but now, out of the corner of your eye, you could see he had maneuvered onto his side.

You couldn’t look at him directly, not yet.

The low, ragged sound of his breathing. The guttural edge to his voice. The way he whispered your name once—so soft, you almost thought you imagined it. Each noise hit you in a way that made your cheeks flush and your thighs tense.

You shut your eyes for a second, battling the wave of heat curling through you. This wasn’t the time. He was suffering. He needed your help, not your hormones. But god, his voice—it was doing things to you.

A small part of you, dark and aching, wanted to drop the book and crawl over to him. To help him. To give him the relief he needed—maybe the relief you needed, too.

Instead, you forced your attention on the book in front of you—rereading lines over and over, trying to make sense of sigils and latin descriptions. “Come on,” you whispered, scanning over the faded script.

Behind you, the mattress creaked softly, followed by a particularly loud and strained groan that cut off in a shallow gasp.

Worried he was hurt, you turned to look at Cas.

Your mind went blank as you took in the scene before you. Castiel was curled around a pillow, his eyes screwed shut as he pressed it to his groin. His hips moved slowly and mindlessly, humping the pillow as breathless moans fell from his lips. You couldn’t look away as the ache between your legs became harder to ignore. It was so wrong—the angel didn’t know what he was doing, and there you were, watching him.

You shook your head and looked back down at the book, more motivated than ever to find a cure. You flipped through the pages, hoping you’d missed something. Skimming quickly, you felt your heart stop as a Latin phrase caught your attention: Intimitas maledictio sororis agnetis—the intimacy curse of Sister Agnes. The name rang alarm bells in your mind as you remembered: Agnes had been a nun-turned-witch who had dedicated her life to undoing curses.

You read the paragraph, your heart rate skyrocketing as you realized it was the curse Cas had been hit with. If anyone had found a cure to the curse, it would have been her. Reading to the bottom, you found the last sentence: There is no cure other than physical intimacy. You felt your lungs constrict, unable to say anything as you reread the lines over and over again. There is no cure. Your worst fears were confirmed, and your chest ached for the angel.

Shutting the book softly, you stood up from the chair and glanced over at Cas. If possible, he was even more disheveled from when you had last looked. His lip was now tucked between his teeth in an effort to be quiet as he moved against the pillow. So lost in finding his release, he didn’t even notice you had gotten up.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you moved toward him, sitting gently on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped with your weight, and his eyes fluttered open, finding you through a haze of pain and need. His lip slipped from between his teeth, cheeks burning with shame as his hips stuttered to a stop. It was the most sinful look you had ever seen, and it had come from an angel.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, wincing as he turned his face away, like he couldn't bear for you to see him like this. “It hurts—”

You leaned closer, your voice soft and warm. “Shh, Cas. Don’t apologize,” you whispered, resisting the urge to reach out to him, knowing it would only make it worse. He seemed to sag with relief at your words, his body instinctively moving again, still trembling under the weight of the curse.

“There is no cure then,” his voice broken and tired. It was a statement, not a question.

You swallowed hard, wishing you could tell him something different .“No, I’m so sorry. I checked everything, only physical intimacy can break the curse. It’s a miracle you’re doing as well as you are.” You lowered your eyes to your lap, giving him privacy even as every instinct screamed at you to help. “I can keep looking if you want, but— I don’t think you have much time before it gets worse.”

He didn’t say anything, but you heard the soft ruffling of sheets as he struggled to sit up, and when you finally met his eyes again, your heart ached.

He leaned back against the headboard, trembling with restraint. Your gaze dropped before you could stop yourself, and your cheeks burned at the sight of the obvious need straining against his pants. He tensed, grabbing the pillow to hide himself, his whole body taut with the effort.

Your chest tightened painfully at the sight. You didn’t look away from him this time. You stayed with him.

“What do I do?” he asked, voice breaking into a desperate whine.

“What do you want to do, Castiel?” you asked softly. His fingers tightened around the pillow, knuckles white, as he fought with himself. You could see it — the battle between needing relief and fighting the curse.

“I want you,” he finally whispered, voice so low it was almost a prayer. His eyes found yours, desperate and searching. “Please help me.”

Your heart broke a little more, and without hesitation, you leaned closer “Cas,” you murmured, your voice full of certainty. “I’ve got you sweetheart.”

You brushed your fingers along his jaw, feeling the slight tremble beneath your touch. His eyes flickered with something raw and aching — a desperation so fierce it made your chest tighten. Without giving yourself time to second-guess, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

Knowing it was his first time, you started gentle, your lips moving softly, giving him time to adjust — but Cas had no more patience left.

The moment he felt your mouth on his, a broken, needy moan tore from his chest. His kiss was messy and devouring. His mouth moved against yours, hot and desperate, the lack of control sending a shudder through you as he fought to get you closer.

Realizing the pillow on his lap was in the way, you grabbed it and tossed it to the other side of the bed, your lips still fused to his as you climbed onto his lap.

You gasped as you straddled him, the unmistakable hardness in his pants sending shivers through you as you pressed down against him. The angel groaned at the contact, his hands flying to your hips, gripping you tightly enough to bruise as he dominated your mouth.

You cradled his head, only pulling back when you needed air. A soft, needy whimper left his mouth at the loss of your lips, the sound so wrecked it made your heart stutter. His displeasure didn’t last long though — you immediately attacked his neck, kissing and licking until you found his sweet spot.

Sucking down hard, you felt his hips roll up into you, desperate for friction.

"More," he gasped out, voice wrecked. "Please, more, please—"

You lifted from his neck, hushing him gently. “Can you remove your clothes for me, angel?” you asked sweetly, running a soothing hand through his hair.

He looked up at you, utterly undone, one hand shakily lifting from your hips. With a soft snap of his fingers, his clothes disappeared, leaving him in nothing but white boxers.

You couldn't help but bite your lip at the ethereal sight beneath you.

"Beautiful," you murmured, running a hand over his chest appreciatively, letting your fingers wander over his toned abdomen and the trail of hair leading downward.

Cas groaned at your praise, his head thrown back against the headboard as he arched into your touch, his hands once again gripping your hips.

Not wanting to keep him waiting, you shifted lower, trailing kisses down his body. You licked and nibbled at his heated skin, his hands moving to guide your head as you traveled further down.

Finally reaching his waistband, you paused, looking up at him. He met your gaze, his brows furrowed and his eyes dark with arousal.

“I’m going to take these off now, is that alright?” you asked softly, running a hand slowly over his thigh.

He nodded eagerly, words tumbling out between panting breaths. "Yes, yes, oh father, yes—"

At his desperate confirmation, you moved to remove his boxers — but before you could, another snap of his fingers had them vanishing.

You gasped as you took him in fully, unable to tear your eyes away.

His cock was pulsing with need, a bead of precum dripping from the tip. You licked your lips as you took him in, fully aware you had most certainly soaked through your underwear.

“I need to see you,” Castiel whined, as if you'd ever deny him, his hand still cradling your head.

You only smiled up at him, gently slipping out of his grasp to reach for your tank top. Without a second thought, you pulled it over your head.

You watched as he bit the inside of his cheek, eyes fixed on your chest, his hands trembling as he raised them, silently asking for permission.

You nodded, taking his hands and placing them on your breasts. He squeezed them experimentally, and you moaned softly at the contact — the sound drawing his eyes back up to your face.

That moan must’ve triggered something in him, because suddenly his hands gripped your waist and he pulled you back down onto his cock, only the thin fabric of your underwear separating you.

He sat up, burying his face in your chest as his hips ground up into you.

You gasped at the sudden friction as he began moving you — forward, backward — guiding your body over him. Your eyes rolled back at the sensation, a moan ripping from your throat as his lips latched onto your chest. He kissed you reverently, worshipping you with every breathy groan, before finding your nipple and giving it a soft suck that had you reeling.

He continued grinding you against him, dragging your soaked center along the length of his cock, his hands holding you in place as he moved beneath you. His movements instinctual as he blindly followed his pleasure.

Your own hands found his shoulders for support, fingers digging in as the pressure grew just right — the thick length of him beneath you sending you spiraling.

You moaned his name, grabbing at him as he continued relentlessly.

“More,” he whimpered into your skin. “It hurts, I need more—”

“Take my underwear off, sweetheart,” you breathed, voice wrecked with need. The ache must have been torture for him by now.

You didn’t have to ask twice. With another snap of his fingers, your underwear vanished, leaving you bare and pressed directly against him.

The sudden wet heat made him gasp — the surprised moan that left his mouth was nothing short of sinful.

Reaching down between you, you curled your fingers around him, causing his jaw to go slack as you guided his tip to your entrance. Lifting your hips slightly, you sank down on him slowly.

Your back arched as his cock split you open. Despite how ready you thought you were, you still felt a slight burn as he stretched you out, filling you completely.

A sputtered gasp broke through your haze, drawing your attention down to him. Castiel’s hooded gaze locked onto yours, all heat and need, his hands shaking with restraint as you inched lower until you were fully seated on him.

You brought a hand to his hair, brushing the fringe from his forehead as his chest rose and fell rapidly.

“You’re doing so good for me,” you murmured breathlessly, adjusting to his size.

He whined, pressing his head into your hand.

“I don’t know what to — you feel incredible, I can’t —" he stammered, his hips stuttering as he fought to stay still.

“I know, I know. I got you," you soothed, moving your hands to his shoulders. Slowly, you lifted yourself until only the tip of him remained inside you, before dropping back down, taking him fully once more.

A deep, almost primal growl ripped from his chest, the sound sending a shudder through you and making you flutter around him.

“Keep going,” he begged, voice wrecked, “please — keep going.”

You set a slow, grinding pace at first, rolling your hips in small, deliberate circles that had Castiel's hands flying to your waist, clutching you like a lifeline. His head tipped back against the pillow, throat bared, jaw tight with the effort to hold himself together.

Every little movement of yours pulled a ragged moan from him, his body trembling beneath you.

"You're perfect," he rasped, voice rough like gravel. "So beautiful."

Your heart thudded at his words, heat pooling low in your belly as you quickened your pace. The delicious friction of him filling you, dragging against every nerve ending inside you, made you whimper against his neck.

He bucked up instinctively, chasing the feeling, and you cried out softly at the sudden, deeper thrust.

"I'm sorry," he gasped, but you shook your head quickly, burying your face against his jaw.

"Don't stop," you breathed, your voice a broken plea. "I need you, Cas."

That was all it took to shatter whatever fragile control he had left.

His hands shifted from your hips to under your ass, and in one fluid motion, he sat up, holding you against him, buried so deep inside you it felt like he could never be close enough.

His mouth found yours again — desperate, consuming — as he thrust up into you, rhythm messy and urgent.

You moaned into his kiss, clutching his shoulders, feeling the slick slide of your bodies, the raw need spiraling higher and higher between you both.

Every time he moved, you felt your walls flutter helplessly around him, felt him pulse inside you, and it drove you closer to the edge.

"Please," he begged again, voice trembling against your lips. "Something is— I can't — I'm—"

"I know," you whispered, kissing him fiercely. "It’s okay, let go for me, Castiel."

At your words, Cas groaned deep in his chest, the sound vibrating against your skin as he thrust up harder, chasing the release he was barely holding back from.

Your bodies moved together in a frantic, perfect rhythm, every stroke sending a fresh wave of pleasure flooding through you.

You clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders as he hit something inside you that made your vision blur.

"Cas," you gasped, breaking the kiss, forehead pressing to his as your breathing hitched. "I'm so close—"

"Yes—please," he rasped, his voice desperate, wrecked. "I feel it."

You nodded frantically, hips grinding down against him, the tension winding tighter and tighter until it snapped.

Pleasure crashed over you in a tidal wave, your body trembling as you cried out his name, walls clenching around him.

The feel of you unraveling in his arms broke him completely.

With a hoarse shout, Castiel buried himself deep inside you and came undone, hips jerking helplessly as he spilled into you, holding you impossibly close.

You clung to him as you came down from your high, expecting to feel him begin to soften inside you — the curse finally sated.

But instead, he grew even more desperate. His body trembled as he gripped you tightly, his cock still throbbing deep inside.

“It’s not over,” he gritted out, pain etched across his face as his body radiated heat.

Your hand, still unsteady, reached for his cheek, guiding his gaze back to yours.

“Take what you need, sweetheart. It’s okay,” you whispered, watching his eyes go wide at your words. “I want you to take me.”

A guttural groan tore from his throat as he grabbed you, flipping you beneath him in one smooth motion.

Then he moved — his hips snapping into yours at a pace that was nothing short of inhuman.

You moaned loudly at the stimulation against your already sensitive core, the sounds high and mindless as he fucked you, his cock impossibly deep with the new angle. One particular thrust made you cry out — a sharp, broken scream — as he slammed into your g-spot.

The sound caught his attention. He adjusted his angle slightly, now thrusting upward with precision, his tip hitting that spongy spot inside you every time. You clenched around him, helpless under the intensity, and he growled low in your ear, burying his face in your neck to kiss along your skin the same way you had done to him earlier.

The familiar coil tightened quickly in your stomach, and before you could even form the words to warn him, it snapped. Your vision went white as your second climax tore through you, your pussy fluttering wildly around him, milking him with each wave of release.

It was too much — he groaned against your skin, hips faltering before he spilled into you again, your name like a prayer on his lips as he fell weightless onto you.

You brought shaking hands to his back as you held him, gently stroking him while you both came down from your highs.

“It’s done,” he murmured into your neck, breaking the silence.

You leaned forward and kissed the top of his head, saying nothing as you continued to hold him, your hands gliding over the firm muscles of his back as he softened inside you.

A warmth began to slip down your thighs, and you cringed slightly as his cum seeped out of you. Cas felt it too. He sat up slowly, pulling out of you with a soft hiss before inspecting the mess between your legs.

You watched him curiously as his head tilted, his eyes fixed on where his release pooled from your core. Before you could ask what he was doing, he reached out and slid a finger through it, making you whine at the overstimulation. Then, to your surprise, he brought that finger to his mouth, sucking it clean. Your breath caught in your throat.

Before you could form words, he lowered his head between your legs and licked a slow stripe up your slit. You moaned at the overwhelming sensitivity, your hands flying to his hair as his tongue moved deliberately, gently. He groaned low in his chest, burying his face in you as he lapped at your pussy, cleaning you with devout focus.

When he’d determined you were clean, he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thighs before looking up at you with those soft, doe eyes.

You were speechless as he moved back up, lying beside you and resting his head on your chest.

With a snap of his fingers, you were both clean and dry — which made your mind spiral with questions, the main one being: Why hadn’t he done that in the first place? Not that you were complaining.

“Where did you learn that?” you blurted, still a little breathless as you looked down at the angel.

“A video on Dean’s computer,” he said softly into your chest, making you erupt with laughter as you pressed a kiss into his hair.

His head lifted, eyes searching yours with concern. “Did you not like it?” he asked, genuinely unsure.

You smiled and kissed him softly on the lips. “I really liked it,” you murmured, a playful glint in your eye.

That earned a boyish grin from him before he settled back down, cheek resting contentedly against your chest.

You ran your fingers slowly through his hair, feeling the tension melt from his body as he laid against you. The silence warm and soothing as you held him.

But after a few moments, you felt him shift.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, barely audible.

You blinked, glancing down at him. “For what?”

“For the curse. For doing that to you,” he said, his voice tinged with guilt. “You deserve better. I never wanted to hurt you. ”

You cupped his cheek, gently guiding him to look up at you. His eyes — those beautiful, stormy eyes — were clouded with worry.

“You didn’t hurt me, Cas,” you said softly, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone. “You could never hurt me. I knew what I was doing. I chose to be with you — curse or not.”

His lips parted, like he wanted to argue, but the words didn’t come. You leaned in and kissed him again, this time slow and comforting.

“I love you,” you whispered against his mouth. “And I want you”.

He exhaled shakily and tucked himself back into your embrace, wrapping his arms around you as if afraid to let go.

“Thank you, I love you,” he said quietly.

You kissed the top of his head once more, letting your fingers trace idle shapes along his back.

“Always.”

tags: @scary-noodlesblog, @alitzel02, @ser4phim-on-e4rth, @vengeance139, @olaflookalike, @strawberrymochikitty

299 notes · View notes

mariasloss · 2 months ago

Text

Sweet Dreams

Masterlist, AO3 Cas x AFAB!fem!Reader Word count: 3.9k

Summary: Castiel watches over you as you sleep, but when you seemingly have a nightmare, he reaches into your mind to comfort you. Only it wasn't a nightmare ;) Content: smut !! Making out, Masturbation, Grinding, Oral Sex (f and m receiving), Body Worship, Breast play, p in v sex, cowgirl, cas loses his virginity, language :)

You closed your laptop, letting out a sigh. Sam and Dean had left hours ago, following up on a lead in town, leaving you to research. Usually, this was Sam’s job, but with Castiel in the wind, Dean claimed someone needed to “stay at home base” in case he came back. It was a weak excuse, but after the last hunt, you couldn’t blame him. You let vampires get the jump on you one time, and suddenly you were incapable of working a case.

At least they got me my own room this time, you thought with a chuckle as you looked down at your attire. It was rare to get time alone nowadays, and when it did happen, you liked to take full advantage. The small silk nightgown hugged your frame nicely. No matter how many crappy motel rooms the boys took you to or how many cheap army surplus clothes they surrounded you with, you couldn’t help but love an expensive pair of pajamas. It was your own guilty pleasure.

Deciding you’d done enough research for the night, you stood up and walked to the bathroom. Leaning down, you splashed water on your face. Distracted, you missed the flutter of wings, and when you stood up straight, looking in the mirror, you nearly had a heart attack.

“Cas!” you gasped, placing a hand over your heart. Turning around, you were met with the angel, his crystal blue eyes locked on you. “You scared me!” you exclaimed, walking out of the bathroom.

“I apologize,” he said gruffly, following you into the cramped room. You sat on the bed, watching as he took a place in the corner, standing stiffly.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were busy in Heaven,” you asked, crossing your legs. His eyes followed your movement, and you could’ve sworn his cheeks turned a shade pinker than usual.

“Cas?” you spoke again, watching as his eyes finally came back to your face. He cleared his throat.

“Right, my business in Heaven has concluded,” he paused, “I thought I would check in on you.”

“Check in on me?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. He only nodded in response.

You stood up, walking over to him. “Is something wrong, Cas?” Concern filled your voice as you brought a hand up to his forehead. His eyes fluttered shut at your touch, ignoring your question.

Up close, you could see his pink cheeks, his uneven breath, and feel his clammy skin under your palm. If you hadn’t known better, you’d think he was sick. But Cas had told you a long time ago that angels didn’t get sick.

Removing your hand, you watched as his eyes opened slowly. His mouth opened and closed like he didn’t know what to say.

“Castiel?” You said his name softly.

“I think I need to speak with Dean,” he finally spoke, his voice quiet.

Your brows furrowed. “Is it something I can help with?”

He shook his head quickly, stepping away from you and pressing himself against the wall. You took a step back as well, deciding that if Cas wasn’t going to tell you, you wouldn’t pry.

You looked away and turned your attention to the TV, nibbling on your bottom lip. It was a bad habit you’d picked up over the years.

Feeling his eyes on you, you turned back to Cas. “Want to watch a movie?” you asked.

He nodded once, staying quiet. You turned off the lights and climbed into bed, getting cozy under the covers. Realizing he hadn’t moved, you patted the spot next to you, giving him a soft smile.

You grabbed the remote and began flicking through the channels. You heard his footsteps on the carpet as he approached the bed. You listened as he removed his trench coat and shoes, then expertly undid the top buttons of his collared shirt. You felt your cheeks heat up and quickly looked back at the TV.

Despite knowing he could never feel the same way, you couldn’t help the crush you harbored for the angel. It wasn’t your fault he was so beautiful, so sweet.

You felt the bed dip as he sat next to you, and you fought the urge to look at him. Finally, you landed on How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. Rom-coms were a guilty pleasure for both you and Castiel, surprisingly.

“This is one of my favorites,” you said quietly. He hummed in response but said nothing.

You fell into a comfortable silence, watching the movie together. You felt his eyes on you occasionally but did nothing, keeping your own gaze fixed on the screen.

When you were sure he was distracted by the movie, you caved and looked at him. Your breath hitched. The light from the TV illuminated his face, making his skin seem to glow.

Your eyes wandered, taking in his casual appearance. The undone buttons of his shirt gave you a glimpse of his chest, revealing a build you hadn’t realized he had under all those layers. He looked ethereal. And he was in your motel bed.

You bit your bottom lip and looked away. Relax, you told yourself. This wasn’t the first man in your bed, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Letting out a deep sigh, you sank further into the pillow. You could feel yourself getting drowsy. You turned on your side to face Castiel.

“Cas?” you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur. “I’m going to sleep now.”

He turned to look at you. “Do you want me to go?” His voice sounded deeper than usual.

You thought for a moment. “No, you can stay if you want.”

He nodded once. “Sweet dreams,” he said quietly, turning his attention back to the TV.

You tried to stay awake, just to sneak glances at the angel lying next to you. But you were only so strong, and it wasn’t long before the world went dark.

Castiel watched as your eyes fluttered shut and your breathing evened out. He was surprised you had asked him to stay. From what little experience he had with humans, he found most were uncomfortable being watched in such a vulnerable state. Dean had strictly forbidden him from watching him and Sam sleep, calling him creepy on multiple occasions. Which was a shame, as Castiel rather liked watching over his friends. They were so much more peaceful while asleep.

His thoughts stuttered to a stop as you shifted closer to him in your sleep, most likely seeking warmth in your unconscious state. He felt his heart speed up like it had earlier. Letting his instincts guide him, he shifted, putting his arm above you on the pillow, giving you space to move. A few minutes later, you had maneuvered yourself onto his chest.

It felt wrong to be this close to you. As an angel of the Lord, he shouldn’t be as fond of you as he was. Castiel’s role was to be a guardian to human life—nothing more. But as you snuggled into his chest, those thoughts faded away. He wrapped an arm around you, feeling the soft silk of your nightgown.

In that moment, he knew you were perfect. There had never been, and there would never be, another human like you. Castiel had always admired you—your bravery, intelligence, wit, and all the other good human qualities. He had convinced himself that was why his chest constricted when you were near and why he could hardly think in your presence. But lately, it had gotten worse. Now, when he was around you, Castiel felt lost for words.

Nothing he could come up with felt good enough for your ears. He now understood why humans worshipped false idols. As disturbing as it had been at first, you had become his. And he found himself not caring anymore. It felt right—in a way nothing ever had before. It was what he had wanted to ask Dean about earlier. If it was normal to feel this way.

Soft noises from you pulled him from his thoughts. He felt your heart quicken, your skin growing warmer. You let out a particularly loud groan, and your brows furrowed in a way they only did when you were upset. Worried you were having a nightmare, Castiel reached a hand to your temple and entered your mind, ready to ease your discomfort.

As he entered and moved around in your mind, he found himself back in the motel room, replaying the conversation you two had had earlier. Confused, Castiel continued to watch.

When you put a hand on his forehead, he watched as the dream version of him whimpered, pressing his face into your hand. Castiel felt his cheeks redden. He watched as you moved your palm to the side of dream Castiel’s face, leaning in gently, pressing a passionate kiss to his lips. Your hand slipped downward, taking his growing bulge in your hand and massaging it.

The dream shifted suddenly, becoming blurry. When it finally cleared, Castiel saw the two of you in bed together. You were sitting in his lap, and he watched as his hands went up your nightgown, resting on your ass. Your hands were in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer as you kissed him roughly.

Castiel couldn’t help but move closer to the scene. He watched as dream him ripped off your nightgown, revealing all of you. Castiel’s jaw went slack, and his pants grew increasingly uncomfortable. Your back arched as dream Castiel took your nipple in his mouth and sucked. Dark bruises began to appear as he mouthed over your breasts.

In the back of his mind, he knew this was an invasion of your privacy—that you wouldn’t want him in your mind. But when the dream shifted again, showing you pulled to the edge of the bed with dream Castiel on his knees between your legs, he knew he wasn’t strong enough to leave. He didn’t know much about human intercourse, but this was heavenly.

As Castiel continued to watch, a tightness built in his lower stomach. The feeling in his groin was long past painful, and he groaned. Reaching a hand down, he palmed himself as he had seen you do earlier.

Dream Castiel slid his fingers inside you, and the noise you made had Castiel’s knees buckling, forcing him to sit down on a nearby chair. He watched as you reached down, pressing his head further between your legs, hearing his own muffled whimpers at your actions.

Now moaning himself, he continued rubbing, the tightness building. He didn’t fully understand what he was doing, but God, it felt good. When your back lifted off the bed and you screamed his name, Castiel felt the coil snap. His vision went white as he was pulled out of your mind.

When his eyes opened, he found yours looking back at him. The real you staring up at him. His chest was still heaving, and he could feel the warmth in his pants. Looking down at you, he saw confusion in your eyes, but you weren’t faring much better. Your pupils were blown, and he could feel your heart racing.

Your head ached as you fought to regain consciousness. It was so warm, you thought idly, snuggling into the heat source. Breathing in, your senses filled with the scent of pine, clean laundry, and something undeniably masculine. A distant alarm sounded in the back of your mind, but you were too content to care. As your awareness sharpened, soft groans reached your ears. One particularly loud one had your eyes snapping open.

You looked up and met none other than Castiel’s gaze. Gasping, you scrambled off him, sitting up beside him. Letting your eyes trace over him, you realized he was in quite a state—flushed, breathing heavily, and staring at you in silence. A sharp pang in your head had you groaning as you brought your hands up to massage your temples, struggling to keep up with the moment.

"Cas," you breathed. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. Are you okay?"

He cringed and looked away, suddenly finding the wall much more interesting. Not this time, Castiel. A wave of confidence surged through you as you moved back toward him, swinging a leg over his torso and straddling him. That got his attention. His hands hovered over your hips, not quite touching you.

"What happened, Castiel?" you asked seriously.

He hesitated for a moment, and for the first time, you could have sworn he looked... nervous. "You fell asleep," he finally admitted, his voice quiet as he continued to look past you. "You moved closer to me. You looked—" he paused, "peaceful."

You hummed in response, encouraging him to continue.

"Then you started having a nightmare. I knew I could fix it, so I entered your mind."

You bit your tongue, uneasy at the thought of someone—even Castiel—being inside your head. "Only—" he chose that moment to meet your eyes—"I don’t think it was a nightmare."

Your brows furrowed as you struggled to remember your dream. You had been in the motel room, talking to Cas, and—oh. Your face heated as the pieces fell into place.

Only, Cas wasn’t done talking. "I am still not familiar with human sexual behaviors, but watching your dream, something happened." He hesitated again. "Something in my groin."

Your eyes widened, and you instinctively glanced down—only now noticing the obvious wet spot on his slacks.

"I felt a similar sensation when I first arrived here," he continued, brows furrowed. "It seems I’ve lost control of my vessel."

You clenched your thighs together, struggling to maintain composure. "I see," you murmured. Silently hoping you were reading the situation correctly, you asked, "What do you want to do about it?"

He licked his lips, blue eyes darkening. "I would very much like to continue your dream—if you will have me."

A slow smile spread across your face as you leaned down, savoring the moment. You brought a hand up to cradle his cheek, the other resting on his chest. "Can I kiss you, Castiel?" you whispered, your lips ghosting over his.

"Please," he whimpered, the desperate need in his voice sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

You pressed your lips to his softly, giving him a teasing peck. As you started to pull away—thinking he might want to take things slow—Castiel made it clear he had other plans. In a flash, he wrapped his arms around you, flipped you over, and captured your lips in a searing kiss that left you breathless. You moaned into his mouth, matching his enthusiasm as he devoured you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

When you finally pulled away for air, you gasped, "Cas, where did you learn that?"

His expression was completely serious as he responded, "The pizza man."

A startled giggle escaped you. Before he could kiss you again, you pressed a hand against his chest, stopping him. He looked at you worriedly.

"As much as I want to continue this," you purred, "you are wearing far too many clothes."

Without hesitation, Cas nodded and snapped his fingers. His slacks and dress shirt vanished, leaving him in only his boxers. Your breath hitched. His body was even more perfect than you had imagined—marble-like skin, taut muscles, and a strong, broad chest.

You reached out, letting your hands wander over his skin, and he shuddered beneath your touch. His responsiveness had you dripping with anticipation. You could feel his arousal pressing into your thigh, and when he spoke again, his voice was thick with longing.

"As much as I enjoy this," he rasped, "I would really like to touch you now."

Your stomach clenched in excitement. "Please do."

His eyes were wide, as he sat up and gazed over your body appreciatively. Sensing his hesitance, you decided to help. Grabbing his hands, you put them on your breasts, watching as he let out a deep breath. He began kneading them in his hands and you moaned as he experimentally squeezed your nipple.

You let him massage you over your nightgown, silently pleading in your head for him to just take it off. No sooner than the thought had entered your mind, Castiel grabbed the top of your nightgown and ripped it as effortlessly as he had in your dream, finally exposing your breasts to him.

You let out pornographic moans as Castiel began working you over. Sucking and nipping and kneading at your breasts until they began turning purple. His muffled noises drenching your panties.

“Show me” he moaned into you, kissing your breasts, “show me what you want”.

Your cheeks were red as the scene from your dream played over in your mind. At that moment you wanted nothing more than to see him between your legs.

“I see,” he spoke into your skin, reading your mind.

“You don’t have to.” you replied anxiously, staring at the ceiling.

At that he lifted off of you, rising up and gently guiding you to meet his eyes. “I want nothing more than to worship you” he spoke deeply, causing you to shudder.

He kissed you gently, before moving down. He placed kisses from your collarbone, to your breasts, and to your stomach before moving past where you wanted him. He kissed your thighs and you shook with anticipation. You watched with bated breath as he spread your legs, revealing your need. His eyes were almost black as he snapped his fingers, your panties disappearing. And without warning , he touched your center, causing you to fling a hand to your mouth to hide your ridiculously needy moan.

Castiel explored, running a finger through your slit. You could see how focused he was, his brow furrowed in concentration.

When he reached your clit, you bucked into his hand, causing his lip to upturn with pride.

“Castiel” you whined, unable to take your eyes off of him.

Hearing your prayers, Cas finally granted your wish, moving his mouth to your core and sucking. Hard.

You gasped and moaned as his mouth moved over you, it was nothing like you had ever felt before. Not for the first time that night you wondered, where he had learned this.

“You're doing so well, baby," you praised, reaching a hand down to grab his hair, causing him to whine loudly into your pussy.

Interesting.

Feeling the vibrations of his moans against you and the scruff of his 5 o'clock shadow on your thighs, your release came fast and soon you were arching into his mouth, screaming his name as you came.

It took you a few moments to calm down enough to speak as Castiel continued to lick at you gently, prolonging your high.

Soon enough you reached down to his hair and guided him up to you, pulling him into a kiss. You felt the wetness on his face as you tasted yourself on his tongue.

“Your turn” you spoke seductively as you pulled away, causing Cas to look away shyly. “That may not be necessary,” he said, causing you to look down between you.

Oh my god.

His boxers were wet with cum as he hovered over you; apparently he got off on eating you out.

You smiled, reaching a hand to caress his face, watching as he visibly relaxed at your touch. “Castiel, that is the hottest thing I have ever seen”, you told him honestly, feeling against your thigh as his dick came back up to attention.

Apparently angels didn’t need downtime.

His jaw went slack as you moved your hand up into his hair, scratching at his scalp and hearing him moan as you gently tugged.

Deciding it was your turn to please him, you guided him to lay back and resumed your position on top of him, now pressing your groin into his. His boxers being the only thing separating the two of you. You rolled your hips teasingly, causing Cas to grab your hips tight enough to leave a bruise.

You bent down, kissing his neck until you hit the one spot that had him throwing his head back into the pillows. You fixated there, sucking and nipping at the skin until Castiel was shaking with restraint underneath you.

“Please,” he moaned, watching you through hooded eyes.

Taking pity on the poor angel, you trailed kisses down his skin until your lips met his waistband. Meeting his eyes one more time, he nodded with silent confirmation and you pulled them down, watching as his cock sprung up, slapping his stomach. It was pink, long, and impressively thick.

Even his cock was perfect, you thought absentmindedly.

Castiel’s groans brought you out of your thoughts. He was painfully hard and had more than earned this.

You spit on your hand and wrapped it around his cock, causing him to let out a hiss from the sensitivity.

You worked him slowly, moving up and down a few times before leaning over and taking as much of him as you could into your mouth.

Castiel let out a sinful moan, a string of enochian words coming from his mouth as you began bobbing your head up down, focusing your attention on the head and jerking off what you couldn’t fit. It wasn’t long before his abdomen tensed and he was pulling you off of him.

Releasing with a pop, you looked up at him confused.

“I want to finish inside you.” he spoke breathlessly.

You bit your lip, climbing back on top of him. Reaching down, you grabbed his cock and lined him up. You were impatient and you could tell Cas was too. When you felt his tip catch your entrance, you sank down slowly. Feeling each inch as he stretched you, a pleasant ache in your lower stomach grew as you reached his base.

You looked at Cas to see his mouth open and eyes shut, his head thrown back in pleasure. Shakily letting out a breath, you moved your hands to his shoulders, lifting yourself up until he was almost entirely out of you, before slamming back down.

“Fu–ck,” Cas drew out, causing you to squeeze him in response. More desperate noises spewed from the angel as you felt yourself pulse around him. That was the first time you heard him swear and damn did you want to hear more.

Catching his breath, Cas brought his hands to grip your waist as you began bouncing on his cock. Loud moans came out of both of you as you chased your high.

You rode him until the ache in your thighs was too much to bear. You paused, praying to him silently to finish what you started.

Castiel let out a feral noise as he read your mind. More than happy to take the lead, he held you still and thrusted up into you as he sputtered in enochian.

“G geh ol madriax.” he moaned, “Ol trian forever boaluahe g.”

His voice had you barreling towards your second orgasm. It wasn’t long before you felt the familiar pressure in your lower abdomen.

“Castiel I’m gonna cum,” you let out pathetically as he fucked up into you. “Me too,” he groaned, as his thrusts became more sporadic. You felt yourself crest over and cried out his name as you came. Castiel wasn’t far behind you, a few more thrusts and he tensed, moaning as you felt his hot cum pour inside of you.

Spent, you collapsed on top of him as you both caught your breath. A few moments passed as Castiel rubbed your back and played with your hair.

“Thank you,” he spoke quietly, breaking the silence.

You smiled into his chest, sighing happily, “No, thank you Cas.”

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