Castiel Imagine

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Castiel Imagine-Quiet

Note: I'm trying something new? I don't know.

Request For: BvbBride16

Warnings: Uh, nope. We're good.

Castiel Imagine



They sometimes wondered why you gave him that look.

That look of kindness, fondness, admiration. Every time you went to give it to him, they could tell, because you would tilt your head to the side, let out a small puff of air, and then it would happen. Your lips would curl into a soft smile, beautiful (Eye Colour) crystals sparkling with something beyond friendship. You were the only one who looked at Castiel and saw an angel.


One day, though, he actually noticed your affection. One day, he realized what you felt for him.


You sighed and cracked the bathroom door open before stepping into the shower. It had been an entirely too long day, following dead leads, getting nowhere, and driving with the two occasionally incompetent boys. It certainly didn't help that they were all out of sorts themselves. You were the most normal of the group, and that statement in itself was incredibly depressing. The bunker was quiet, and not a soul was heard. When you finally stepped out of the shower, over a half an hour later, you stepped into your bedroom and the silence pooled at your feet. It was rare, such silence. Dean was usually up, drinking, eating, or watching television. When that failed, Sam was more than likely up, typing away at his computer or flipping through reference books. That night, though, it was silent.

Once you were dressed, you sat at your desk to comb your hair out and started thinking. About everything that had happened lately, about everything that had happened in the long run. Anger and sadness boiled within you at the thought of Castiel, the anger was born of thinking about Metatron, and the sadness was born of thinking about Cas himself. After a good fifteen minutes spent aimlessly brushing through your (H/C) hair, you finally sighed and set it down. Not only was he even more depressed and angry than you, he was more than likely exhausted from his day at work. He would probably be sleeping, which was reason enough to stay in your own room. These logical thoughts prodded at you as you padded down the hallway to his room, very quietly.

The door was cracked open, and even though you knew you shouldn't, you pushed it open silently and saw him sitting on the edge of his bed, head in hands. You held back a sigh and leaned on the doorframe, watching him. Hot tears crawled down your cheeks as you witnessed him breaking, even if he was turned away. He had lost everything, he lost himself, and he was angry. Your thoughts trailed off, though, as the dying lamp bulb cast an extremely coincidental light through the room.

Without even your knowledge, you tilted your head to the side, and your lips curled into the kindest smile anyone would ever see. Very dimly, your eyes were able to pick up a light pattern in the shape of angel wings, as if they were growing from his back. You realized that for all he had lost, he was the same.

He was different, but he was the same.

In a gesture less than choreographed, you walked forwards and sat next to him, almost shocking him. He looked over at you. "Hello, Y/n." He ground out. His entire face seemed tired and sad, and that almost made your smile fade. Still, you shook your head and wrapped your arms around his waist, leaning your head into the crook of his shoulder. He was, in fact, taken aback by this gesture and how much he enjoyed it. He quickly overcame this feeling, and settled into the embrace. For all the times speaking to Dean or Sam had forced the thoughts to the back of his mind, in that moment, he wasn't thinking about that at all. He realized that this was what it was-this is what the pizza man felt for the babysitter. It almost startled him again how easily this came to him, of everything.

"Cas? I'm sorry. Is it alright, that i'm doing this?" He didn't say anything for a moment.

"I think that it is, Y/n. Because if you are the babysitter, then perhaps I could be the pizza man?" You clearly did not understand this reference, but you shrugged it off. "I don't know, Cas. I don't think you do either. But...I'd like to stay? If just for tonight."
"Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes, Y/n. Please stay."

It wasn't confusing, or difficult, or awkward. That night, it was just a broken angel and someone who knew exactly how to put them back together. He thought back to every event that you had endured, every life you've lost, every hard choice you've made. He thought back to the scared young woman in his arms, who would do anything for any of the idiots in her life. He thought about this as she drifted off to sleep, and he let a small smile grace his face. This wasn't healed, but it was close. It was getting there.

Because he was with his angel and that night nothing else mattered.


Was that too sweet? I'm sorry. I just decided to try something new...it very obviously did NOT work. I'll update better soon,

HowDULL




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