It wasn’t every day that an angel asked to use your body as a vessel, but when Castiel approached you, the choice felt strangely simple. You didn’t have any family left, and your life had already been filled with the chaos of the supernatural. Castiel was different from the others—respectful, kind, and he never demanded anything. So when he asked for permission to use your body, it was without hesitation that you said yes.

The sensation of Castiel taking over wasn’t painful or violent. It was just... different. You could still feel everything, still see everything, though now you were observing from the background, watching the world through your own eyes but with Castiel at the helm.

At first, it was strange. Castiel wasn’t one for small talk, but you could feel his presence in your mind, a constant weight that was neither unwelcome nor intrusive. Occasionally, you’d speak to him, testing the boundaries of this new shared space.

“Castiel,” you said one day, as he was walking through the bunker halls. “How do you manage to keep that blank look on your face all the time? I’d be freaking out.”

Castiel’s voice, calm and steady, echoed in your mind. “Years of practice, I suppose.”

You chuckled softly in your shared consciousness. "Makes sense. Still, you’d think being an angel would give you a little more... flair."

A faint hint of amusement crossed Castiel’s mind, though his expression remained stoic as ever. "Flair is not necessary for the tasks at hand."

It became a casual routine—talking with him while he carried out his mission. Sometimes, it was about the little things, like how odd it felt when he stretched your muscles or how you missed the taste of your favorite food. Other times, it was deeper, like when you asked him what it was like being an angel, burdened with the weight of Heaven.

“I don’t regret saying yes, by the way,” you mentioned one night, after a particularly long day of tracking down rogue angels. “I thought I might, but it’s been... nice, not being so alone.”