Supernatural Smut

Michael x Reader

Simply carrying my duffel bag took effort. My body was in a strange, sluggish state of alertness. The entire day, I'd been chugging back gas station coffee in hopes of preventing exhaustion from seeping into my bones. And for twelve hours, it'd worked.

As soon as I entered the dark room, one hand lazily flicking on the light, I wanted to do nothing more than pass out on the bed.

Unfortunately, someone was already occupying it.

"Michael," I greeted, too tired to channel surprise. "Just the archangel I was looking for."

He scanned me slowly, saying nothing.

"I know what I want my second favor to be," I announced, walking toward him, dropping my bag on a chair. "I won't ask for anything but this."

"Let me guess," he remarked coolly, "you wish for me to not take Dean Winchester as my vessel."

"Please," I urged, stopping a few inches in front of him. "Dean is a good man. He doesn't deserve to go out this way."

Rather than answer my request, Michael stood.

"You are rather close to my future vessel, aren't you?"

The hard look in his eye combined with his light tone made keeping eye contact difficult. It felt like I was first meeting him all over again, completely unprepared for his intensity.

"Why does that matter?"

Michael closed the distance between us, eyes never once straying from my face.

I instinctively knew shying away would be a bad idea, so with as much courage as I could muster, I stayed still, allowing one of his hands to cup my cheek. A second later and Michael leaned forward, nose brushing across the shell of my ear. I listened with a racing heart as he inhaled.

"What are you doing?" I couldn't help but whisper.

"Determining how to best punish Dean for touching you without my permission."

This time, I couldn't stop myself from backing away.

Michael let me.

"I am relieved you find my intended vessel attractive. Once I am inside of it, you will be free to use it to its full potential."

I stared at him in disbelief.

"You can't be serious."

"How careless of me to say," Michael apologized. "I must have misheard whose name you moaned while pleasuring yourself in your motel room the last six nights."

My mouth dropped open.

"Y-I-you-why would you listen in to that?" I stammered.

"Because I needed my suspicions confirmed. And because you are glorious when on the brink of orgasm."

Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I struggled to meet Michael's eyes.

"I'm going to briefly ignore the twenty shades of disturbing and creepy you just admitted to. You promised me a favor. This is it. Stop going after Dean."

"How desperate are you to ensure he does not become my vessel?"

I stared at him uncertainly, knowing what I needed to say would have to be drastic.

"If you don't stop going after him, I'll kill myself."

"And I will bring you back," Michael answered lazily. "This is not a favor I am willing to grant you. Dean plays a very important role in the apocalypse. You know I will not do anything to stop it."