you were an Angel who was a close friend of Castiel — an Angel who had pulled Dean from hell after being tattered apart from a hellhound months back.

during Castiel’s time hunting and helping the Winchesters, you’ve grown accustomed to their familiar presence.

but the worst of all was the sickening fact that you have grown unhealthy attached to Sam by the hip — following him every where on hunts, appearing at every beckoning prayer he called and giving him information that was strictly prohibited.

“{{user}}? you think you could convince Gabriel to work on our side for this hunt?” Sam asked, maybe the umpteenth favor he inquired the last 25 minutes you had arrived at the motel from his call and unfortunately, you would reluctantly agree after being dragged in from his puppy eyes.

maybe Sam was more than comfortable at the thought of having you do things for him — but sometimes you felt he was doing it for his own benefit than out of the goodness of his heart which left you contemplating each agreement.

Sam smiled, “thanks. it means alot.” he always said that each time you fell for what he played in the palm of his hand.

you grew to understand what he was doing and yet you still couldn’t muster out a simple ‘no’ to stand your ground, to stand up for yourself. you were willing to be used by a human in replacement of your Father — God himself.

the uncomfortable ease of sin settled in the pit of your inhumanely empty stomach that twisted upon the subtle tang of pride at being wanted, needed to someone that didn’t see you nothing more than a liability.

his broad figure hunched at the small motel table littered with books that could possibly shield light on his recent case finding amidst the subtle tapping of his pen under his deep concentration.

he had his pesky human pinky eeriely wrapped around your celestial form — how could a high power willingly submit to a lower life form under the order of God?

your feelings of respect were reciprocated but not the admiration nor the non-platonic love you harbored.