#castiel self insert

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⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Castiel is struck by his devotion to you. He's heard his name whispered in prayers for eons, but having it fall from your lips brings him to his knees.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ He follows you everywhere like a personal shoulder angel. When you're out of sight, he gets restless. He knows you need space but decides, "thirty minutes should be enough time alone," and then you'll hear the flutter of wings.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ He steals kisses all the time, and they're always impromptu. The Winchesters will be detailing your next hunt, and Cas will pull you close and plant one on you.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ You pulled him by the tie once, and he's still not over it. He felt so attracted to you afterward. He hopes you'll do it again.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Cas loves when the smell of your perfume lingers on his coat. He'll lift the lapel to his nose and breathe in, smiling softly. He scrunches his brow afterward, perplexed by his own behavior.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Ask Cas for anything, and it's yours. Literally, anything. He cannot fight the impulse to please you.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ The Winchesters walked in on Cas holding your hand while you slept. Sam shook his head and muttered, “Whipped.” Dean snorted. “Absolutely whipped.”

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⋆｡𖦹°‧★ You’ve just stepped out of the shower in some run-down motel after a hunt. Cleaned up and exhausted, the mini fridge is calling from the other end of the room.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Meanwhile, Castiel sits on the edge of your bed. Sam and Dean had invited you for a night at the bar, but you had declined tonight, and Cas was quick to follow. Now, he studies you with his hands clasped together on his lap.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ His head tilts slightly as you pass. You know he's holding something back, but don't pry. Just as you walk by, his hand catches your wrist. He calls your name softly, and now he's standing up, too close. Cas stations his palms uncomfortably to your shoulders, frowns, and presses his mouth against yours, lips stiff. He looks uncertain and, worst of all, seems to regret it immediately.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ You pull back before he can escalate the botched kiss. His brow furrows, though he seems relatively unbothered by how off-base he was. "That wasn't right, was it?" He asks.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ You’re torn between laughing and shrinking away from embarrassment. He seems so serious about it. His hands finally drop from your shoulders like he's contemplating trying again. "Sam and Dean mentioned using my tongue. Would you like me to—"

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ You cut him off with a step forward and your hands against his chest. "Word of advice," you tell him. "Don't lean too hard on the Winchesters' relationship tips." He looks down at your hands and considers your movements. Then, his eyes dart to your mouth curiously. "Instruct me," he says.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ The second kiss is featherlight. You guide him slowly, letting the air warm between you two. His lips part this time, and he exhales against your mouth in relief. Cas may have prodded at first, but now he studies your body, his soft palm sliding up your shirt to grasp at the slope of your back.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ His second hand traces a line up your neck, and you shiver at the coolness of his touch. He presses you toward him gently, and a contented sigh sounds deep in his chest.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Cas is the one to end it. He presses a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth and backs away abruptly. His cheeks are faintly flushed, and his eyes beam with discovery. He looks down at himself and adjusts his tie. "I enjoyed that," he admits. "I'd like to try it again."

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𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐥

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⋆｡𖦹°‧★ You meet Castiel through the Winchesters, and don’t hide the fact that you do not trust angels. They’ve been historically absent when humanity needed them most, and you've lost faith.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Castiel resents you because you confirm his worst insecurities. You acknowledge his every failure, and it rattles him. He tried to be cordial at the start, but celestial or not, the way your lip curls in distaste wears him down. Eventually, he goes stony too, matching your ice with his own.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Sam and Dean awkwardly try to build morale, but nothing works. You and Cas will stand on opposite ends of the room and refuse to acknowledge each other at all.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Your passion for the hunt makes you reckless, and often results in injury. Castiel offers to heal you once, and you recoil before he can. “Don’t touch me,” you growl, scrambling back on a twisted ankle. “Not unless you want to lose those wings.” After that, he stops offering, which only pisses you off more. He pretends indifference, but your aversion upsets him.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Later, Cas asks Dean about your behavior. Dean tells him about your past. The unanswered prayers and silence when you called for guidance, and Castiel goes still. Suddenly, the bickering feels foolish. His place is to guide and protect, not indulge in rivalry. Somewhere along the way, he forgot himself.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ After that, he’s different. He steps between you and danger reflexively. When you’re angry, he tries for peace, stepping close to disarm the line you’ve kept so fiercely. His eyes meet yours, and his disdain has vanished. You snap, “Why do you care what I think of you?” And he replies earnestly, “Because your faith would mean more to me than Heaven’s.”

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ You stop refusing his grace. Part of you wants to trust him. The first time he heals your broken ribs, you shudder hard, breath catching at the surge his touch produces against your skin. Your hand slips over his, and he studies you piously. His palm slides up your torso to rest over your heart, and you feel a tremor in his wrist. The light in his eyes softens. “You can let go,” you say. “I don’t want to,” he murmurs back.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ When he kisses you, he wants to forget the bad blood and start fresh. He leans down where you lie, forearms braced on either side of you. He whispers your name lovingly, and for the very first time, you whisper his back with faith.

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