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luna-writes-stuff · 2 years ago

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Day 21: The Lakes, Castiel

Song link

Fanfic, fem!reader

Comfort, slight fluff

Word count: 2383

Tw: “Cas comforts you” this, “Cas comforts you” that. No; you comfort Cas. Use of Y/N (I am so sorry, you taught me better), S12 Castiel, mentions of self-doubt, physical affection. Angeleyes has been stuck in a loop in my head for years now, it’s a bop, I won’t defend myself.

Summary: When on a hunt alone, Cas pays you a visit. But unlike most times, he seems unsure of himself. Even angels need reassurance and comfort from time to time.

“Is it romantic how all my elegies eulogize me? I'm not cut out for all these cynical clones These hunters with cell phones.”

“Call me when you drive into Kansas.”

“I will, Dean. Don’t worry.” You mused into the phone, shaking off his ever-present worried state. You had been working with the Winchesters for years now, and as the days grew longer, your relations only strengthened, and now neither of the boys was willing to let you go on an own hunt without checking in every single day.

You had just finished a week long hunt for a Wendigo nearby, and you were exhausted beyond words. But you knew you’d get Dean on your ass the second you refused to pick up the phone.

So, there you sat, on a creaky motel chair, a now cold cup of tea in front of you. The sun should be rising within the next few hours, but you had yet to fall asleep. Hell, you just returned to the motel.

Now lost in thought, that sleep did sound very good.

“Hey, Dean,” you remarked, hearing his silence over the phone.

“Yes, sweetheart.”

“I’m ready to drop. I could use some good night rest.”

“You do that. Let me know when you leave tomorrow.”

Humming into the phone, you affirmed his request. “Will do, Winchester. I’ll see you soon.”

“‘Night, Y/N.”

“Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die I don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you.”

Placing your phone down on the table, you exhaled loudly, stretching your arms as you winced under the movement. You had gotten off the hunt relatively easy, but not without a few scrapes and bruises. Nothing time wouldn’t mend. But the burn wound on your biceps had begun to sting.

Standing up from the chair, you absentmindedly wandered to the bathroom, ready to grab the first aid kit you had left there. And perhaps get a shower.

Smelling your hair briefly, you scrunched your nose up. Yes; you could use a shower.

“Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry I'm setting off, but not without my muse.”

The cold air that hit your skin the second you turned the water off, was something you’d never get used to. Reaching for the towel on the toilet, you wrapped your body in it, opting to dry immediately so you could put in some warmer clothes.

You barely had any time to throw a shirt over your head, when something alerted you. After years of hunting and hiding, you knew when something was up.

Changing into some jeans quickly, you reached for the tiny dagger hidden within one of your boots discarded on the floor of the bathroom.

You stayed quiet, hoping to observe some noise from the rest of your room. But you heard nothing. And perhaps that should have been the terrifying part. But a wave of comfort washed over you. Almost instantly, you felt yourself lowering the knife.

“A call would have been nice,” you called out, reaching for the doorknob. “And most people knock before entering.”

As you opened the door, you smiled at the figure on your bed. “It is a way of announcing your presence.”

“What should be over burrowed under my skin In heart-stopping waves of hurt.”

“I’m sorry,” the angel apologised, standing up. “It was an impulsive decision.”

“Yes, that is usually what relationships are built upon.” You spoke with a tease, folding the towel double before hanging it over the heater.

“You know they are looking for you.”

At those words, Castiel seemed to halt his steps, looking at you in hesitation.

“Will you tell them?” He asked carefully, almost too careful, considering his nature. But instead of doubting his words, you shook your head gently.

“Trust is also a big part of a relationship. I trust you are doing the right thing.”

With that, he sat back down, folding his hands together as he stared at them, now avoiding eye contact.

“I don’t know. That is why I am here.”

“I've come too far to watch some namedropping sleaze Tell me what are my words worth.”

Your expression fell upon his change in tone, and you felt yourself walk up to him, before taking the empty spot next to him.

“What’s wrong, Cas?”

Your hand fell upon his entwined ones gently, rubbing soothing circles on top of it as you continued to look at him, trying to decipher the thoughts in his mind.

An immediate wave of relaxation washed through you as you felt the sting and ache of your wounds fade. You didn’t mention it. You knew it was Castiel.

“Am I doing the right thing?”

Your eyebrows raised at that, retreating your hand from his. He was not speaking about healing your wounds, you knew that much.

“What makes you wonder?”

“Everything.”

That is what took you back the most. Upon first meeting the angel, he seemed so sure of himself: Steadfast and resilient. Would you have known this years ago, you wouldn’t have even believed yourself. Even now, you had a difficult time processing his words.

“What happened?”

“Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die I don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you.”

“I planned on killing thousands of innocents for the sake of one man,” he began to list off. “I plotted against you - on multiple instances, I played God and unleashed Leviathans into the world-“

“Cas, that’s not fair.” You tried to intervene, but he kept on going.

“I allowed Lucifer to live and let him possess not only my vessel, but me as well, I conspired with the king of hell, withheld crucial information to you and Sam and Dean, and within a matter of weeks I killed a reaper bound by a promise, let Lucifer slip from my fingers on multiple occasions and then proceeded to lose his spawn when it was in my hands. Quite literally.”

“Cas,” you sighed, finally drawing his attention, his eyes staring straight into yours. “Making mistakes is a human thing. And my- our line of work makes it nearly impossible to make tiny mistakes. But we learn from them.”

“I am a celestial being,” he pointed out, a defeated look on his face. “My brothers and sisters hated me.”

“Your time with mortals made you vulnerable, but that is not a bad thing.” You tried to comfort. “No one likes perfect people.”

“Perhaps.”

“Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry I'm setting off, but not without my muse.”

Still, his posture faded, and you knew he had been wandering with these thoughts for a long time. Had he not been, this wouldn’t have been such a big deal for him. He might’ve not even shown up. Moments like this nearly made you curse yourself for not recognising his conflict earlier.

“They offered me a place,” he admitted, his eyebrows furrowing together in near desperation. “The angels.”

Though it momentarily tugged on your heartstrings - the idea of Castiel no longer being around as often as he was almost hurting you - but you were happy for him. Happy that he could earn his place back.

“I conversed with Joshua.”

“What did he say?” Intrigued, you grabbed his hand again. This time, he turned it around in your hold, intertwining your finger together; a gesture that he had grown rather fond of.

“He would help me track down Kelly Kline, and eliminate her and the Antichrist. Then, I will be allowed back in Heaven.”

You smiled at that, a silent encouragement.

“That sounds like a win-win.”

“Yes,” the angel muttered, almost lost in thought. His eyes flickered over your face briefly, quietly observing your look, mesmerising each feature delicately.

“Should sins be forgiven that easily?”

“I want auroras and sad prose I want to watch wisteria grow right over my bare feet.”

“I’m sure you’ve stood your trial,” you offered, squeezing his hand in reassurance. “If not, they wouldn’t allow you back in.”

But he did not seem to believe you, for his eyes still seemed far-off. Even as they were focused solely on you, as Cas’ thoughts were. But you did not know. And so, you kept on talking.

“You cannot blame yourself for all the things you have done. Personal choices tend to harm others, but it doesn’t make them evil. Even if others perceive them so.”

“You’re beautiful,” he interrupted, catching you off guard. Heat flushed to your voice as you chocked on your words halfway, your eyes widening slightly.

“Beg your pardon?” You whispered

“Your facial structures,” he continued to explain, as if it was the most usual thing on the planet. “They’re captivating when you speak about something the manner you just did.”

Stumbling over your words, you opted to remain quiet, not having expected this turn of event. Instead, your eyes fell down to your entwined hands swiftly, feeling as if you’d spontaneously combust if you’d look into his eyes one more time. Especially after the words he had just uttered.

“'Cause I haven't moved in years And I want you right here.”

But, unlike many other situations , he seemed oblivious to your sudden shyness, and simply kept on talking.

“I am glad I finally found you. I’ve always thought humans to be silly; killing and slaughtering for love throughout the ages. They did stupid things, still do, and I never quite understood why. Not until now.”

Remembering words Dean had spoken to him earlier, Cas tugged on your hand to draw your eyes back to his, staring into the with more intent than before.

“I would kill for you.”

Swallowing thickly, you meekly uttered: “Please, don’t.”

A smile tugged on the lips of the angel, and he found himself grinning slightly at your flustered state, fondly remembering the first time he’d manage to short-wire you, though that had not been done on purpose.

He did not seem to grasp the concept of personal space, and you were too flustered to mention it.

It was quite the situation.

“A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground With no one around to tweet it.”

A comfortable silence hung in the air as Castiel slowly let go of your hands, his figure still on the old mattress.

“I want you to know that when I do go back to Heaven, you can always call for me. I will answer.”

That seemed to snap you out of your dazed state, suddenly remembering why he had even shown up in your motel room to begin with. It certainly wasn’t to get you all worked up over some simple words.

“When you are not busy.” You remarked, simple truth running over your tongue.

“No,” he protested sincerely. “I will answer. Under any circumstances.”

“What will the angels say?” You tried to joke, but it flew over his head, his head cocking to the side in confusion.

“They do not agree, but they are not allowed to intervene.” He explained, hinting towards the idea that - yes, the angels did know about you and Castiel. “So long as we will not create a Nephilim, there would be no reason for them to do anything about it.”

And at that silent hint, you grew all flustered again.

“While I bathe in cliffside pools With my calamitous love and insurmountable grief.”

A short moment of processing flew through the air, before the angle adjusted in his sea, a look at gratitude on his face.

“Thank you, Y/N, for sitting here with me. It helped.”

“Did you even listen to a word I said?” You poked, despite the nervous wreck you currently were.

“Yes, and it was appreciated. But your presence is enough.”

An unasked question was apparent and heavy on his tongue. Your eyes widened for a short moment, silently urging him to continue. A hint he seemed to understand after a couple of moments.

“You will not tell Sam and Dean?” He asked once more.

“No. But they do deserve to know eventually,” you answered honestly. “Don’t let them figure it out on their own.”

“Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die I don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you.”

With those words heard, he stood up, dusting his coat quickly. Then, he leaned down briefly, placing a kiss on top of your head as his hand found your shoulder, clasping it in affection.

“You are leaving already?” You asked, standing up with him in confusion.

“I must. Joshua is waiting for me.”

Of course, he was in the middle of his own debacle. His chance of being accepted by his sibling again, to be graced a second place in Heaven. You knew he deserved it, but it did not make it easier for you.

“Need an extra pair of hands?” You offered, rolling your shoulders back to present yourself more clearly.

Castiel looked at you, observing your stature in an endearing way, a faint smile tugging on his face.

“I would never voluntarily bring you into the business of angels. They are already distrusting towards you.”

You formed your lips in a thin line at his speech, balancing on the balls of your feet.

“Reassuring.”

“Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry I'm setting off, but not without my muse.”

Looking at you again, the angel moved forward, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you into his hold.

You returned the embrace almost immediately, wrapping your own arms around his neck, inhaling his scent deeply before he would be off for who knows how long.

“I will return to you, Y/N,” he voiced, his chest rumbling as he spoke. “Remember that. You can always call out to me. I will find you.”

“I know.” You smiled, before parting from him. “Be careful, okay?”

Now, it was your turn to lean forwards, placing a swift, but heartfelt kiss on his lips, making one of his hands move back to the small of your back instantly.

“I love you, Angeleyes.” You murmured against his lips. Now finally parting from him, you showed him a tiny wave.

“I love you too, honeybee.”

He still had to work on his affectionate nicknames.

“No, not without you.”

#november writings 2022 #spn #supernatural #Castiel #jimmy novak #Mischa collins #castiel x reader

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