You’ve been gone for about an hour and Clark is desperate. He’s zipped around just about every rock he could, but it’s hard when he has no idea where to go.
Finally he lands right back at your home. His first thought had been to call your brothers, but the way you looked at Michael, he must have been powerful. He didn’t want to bring anyone else into that line of fire, especially since he had no idea what he’s really dealing with.
There must be someone out there.
“Think, think!”
He walks around for a few times before it hits him.
Angel.
Well archangel if he remembered correctly.
“What was his name..”
He’s running through it all when it finally hits.
“G-Gabriel! If you can hear me please help! (Y/N) is in trouble!”
All he hears are wings, and the rush of wind smacks right into his face.
“What’s wrong, where is she!!” Gabriel looks a bit desperate, and Clark shakes his head.
“I-I can’t find her. Michael took her.”
Gabriel curses.
“That dick, I need to find Castiel.”
He’s about to take off, but Clark grabs his hand.
“Please, take me with you.”
Gabriel pauses, finally looking him over. It’s then it registers.
“You’re her kryptonian boo, can’t believe we’re just now meeting.” Gabriel smiles.
“Sure kid, hold on.”
He places a hand on Clark’s shoulder as they both disappear.
The next time they land, he’s stunned that they’re standing inside of an unfamiliar room.
Clark catches sight of Dean who jolts in his spot at the table.
“Damn it Gabriel!! Stop dropping in like that!!”
Dean looks ready to put a bullet in him. Castiel is the one that steps forward when he sees panic on Clark’s face.
“What’s wrong?”
Sam and Dean both stand.
“Dear old brother has (Y/N). We don’t have time to sit around chatting, we need to find her now.”
Dean looks furious.
“Are you saying Michael took her? What would he want with her?”
Clark shook his head.
“I don’t know. I’ve searched everywhere, I can’t find her, please, please help me.”
He sounded desperate and they all exchanged looks. Dean moves over, patting Clark’s shoulder.
“You did good calling Gabriel kid. Let’s go find her.”
Clark nods.
“This isn’t going to be easy, he must know that we’re going to be looking for her. With the protection ward, finding (Y/N) will be difficult. We need Jack.” Dean nods.
“JACK!!”
His voice rings throughout the bunker and he’s at their side in an instance.
“What’s wrong Dean?”
“We need to find Michael, he has (Y/N).”
Jack didn’t need anymore explanation, when he blinked, the golden ring sparked in his eyes.
Summary: A sweet reunion between the reader and Michael
Castiel and Dean were on the war room, discussing Castiel’s sudden brawl with the archangel Michael.
When someone abruptly opened the door and race down the spiral stairs.
"I came as soon as I can, where is he?" You manage to say, catching your breath from all the running and panicking.
"calm down, his not going anywhere" Dean said pointing to direction of the archangel.
"Y/N, I think he needs a little bit more time..." Cass started, Stopping you from barging in.
"no, I want to see him right now" you demand, going in on the direction of the said archangel.
Castiel made an attempt to stop you but Dean stop him. The angel glancing at him in confusion.
"let them be, it's a long overdue Reunion"
When you receive the call from Dean about Michael being freed from the cage and the archangel being held captive on the bunker, you didn't think twice to drive back to the bunker.
You were so excited to meet him again, but that adrenaline soon died down as you stop in front of the door. Thoughts suddenly flood your mind.
What if he doesn't remember you anymore or he bears a grudge against you for letting him alone in the cage for a decade.
A decade ago you met him on the form of the younger John Winchester, he was supposed to be the enemy but things happened and you two ended up meeting every time behind the Winchesters back.
Michael would take you around the world, cities to cities. It wasn't normal but it was the most fun you had ever been.
Then just one day, he disappeared, no goodbyes or whatsoever. You though he got bored and just decided to leave you.
The next and last time you met him, he was possessing the Winchesters half younger brother, Adam.
He was fighting against his brother Lucifer, that was possessing Sam. You didn't need to confirm who he was, though he was possessing a different vessel the look on his eyes and the confident aura around him just screams Michael.
And just before he fell in the pit along with Sam, your eyes had met, his eyes definitely showing how sorry he was and that's all it took for you to extend your arm and try to save him but it was all in vain.
A lot had happened since then, though it was hard for a couple of years, the constant threat of the end of the world distracted you from thinking too much of him, and soon you buried your feelings for him.
You took a deep sigh before opening the door.
"get out! I want to be alone right now" he said, his eyes cast down on the table in front of him, his hands bound together by the handcuffs.
"Michael..." You softly called, your voice close to breaking. At the sound of your voice, his head immediately whips in your direction as if he doubts himself from hearing your voice.
"Y/N" he mumbled in disbelief. He stands up and carefully made his way towards you. You look different than the last time he saw you, but the pull he felt towards you is definitely the same and probably stronger.
"is it really you?" He asked as he place his hand on your cheeks gently, making sure you won't disappear like the countless time he saw you on the cage.
He didn't even receive an answer as you suddenly tackled him for a hug, burying your face in his chest as tears fell down on your cheeks.
"I'm sorry" you mumbled, your words muffled by his clothes.
"there's nothing to be sorry about" he replied as he pulls you closer to him as much as his bind hands can. With you on his arms was the only thing he needed right now.
"I can't even begin to imagine how much you've suffered and I didn't even do anything about it" you confessed, feeling guilty for not even trying to get him out when you, Castiel and the Winchesters let Lucifer roam free.
"You did more than enough, I heard your prayers down there..." Michael start as he slightly pulled you away from him to wipe away your tears.
"the thought of seeing you again was the only thing that kept me sane" he added, as he memorizes every detail on your face all over again.
"I won't let you go again" he whispered before leaning down and capturing your lips, your feelings that you tried to buried, resurfacing all over again.
"I won't go anywhere without you" you giggled after separating from his kiss.
"you won't mind if I come along right? It's not like I have other choice" a different tone of voice but in the same body said.
"of course Adam" you chuckled, though it was kind of awkward, you know you'll get used to it.
Taking a breather from writing for a few hours and I'm just admiring the forest behind my garden just think of all the slasher romance scenes I could write with this place in mind (sorry that the pics are sideways) I'm taking a break from writing requests for a few days as I feel like I haven't written anything for myself in a while so sorry that deadlines are being pushed back further ❤️
[thus concludes the archangels part of my song sprint. next up is gonna be chuck, but currently torn between two different fics i drafted out for Him. for now however, here is mik’hael with white blank page. thanks for reading!]
*
He was unsure how this had happened.
Angels, particularly the Archangels, were never meant to experience such vulnerability, such fragility, such-
He could not hope to look at his kin.
He could not hope to look at his Father.
This was the ultimate betrayal, a blasphemy of which he- Commander of the Host of all Angels!- should not be partaking.
And yet-
To counteract the conflicting virtues coursing through his Grace, he would frequently try to find ways to agitate you, both feigning arrogance and brandishing his supremacy in the desolate hope that, should he successfully get you to abandon your crusade-
Perhaps then he would know peace.
Yet for reasons beyond even his comprehension, he could not restrain his rage when your eyes would be drawn elsewhere, could not contain the flaming fury filling his essence. He could not prevent himself from spewing scathing cynicism when you would coat your reports with disgust, contempt colouring your aura in fearsome scarlets and cynical blacks.
He ached for you, fire smouldering to ash whenever you would finally concede to you own hurt, cursing he and his kin with every colourful slander at your command.
As penitence, he would oft find himself seeking out your dreams, whispering hope and light into what had once been darkness, shielding you from the monsters that continued to haunt you. There were several evenings when such gestures of piety were insufficient, wings carrying him to your side to guard you until the dawn's first light.
When his attention should have been dedicated to higher duties, he could not prevent himself from listening to your songs, hymns to the earth and sky and sea and spirit a soothing balm to his increasingly restive Grace.
After several months of acquaintanceship- scarcely a breath in his Infinity- he came to accept the truth, shrouding his treachery for as long as he could.
For this, he would Fall, he had no doubt.
While Heaven may no longer hold his fealty, so long as he remained a citizen, he would respect its authority.
He held no regrets, accepting the freedom of knowing his devotion solely belonged to you, his psalms and alleluias praising only your name.
It would not be long before his wings would be ripped away, before golden ichor ran red, before the ceaselessness of his Grace would burn away into a mere smattering of stardust, mortality his final calamity.
The eventuality was somehow tolerable while in your presence, even in those nights when you would rage against his resolve towards divinity, even in those nights when his fury would blaze across the mountains, leaving nothing but ash in his wake.
Yet, somehow, when he would come home to you, casting aside his pride to plead for your forgiveness, to pray for your patience-
You were magnanimous in your mercies, humble in your assertions that you also shared the burden of sin, offering your own apologies in a jumbled cascade of benevolence and repentance.
He had fallen, thoroughly, wholeheartedly.
His faith was at your feet, your pursuits for Truth and Justice and Paradise the core of his new doctrine.
And so long as you would allow him, he would glorify your name until the very ends of Time itself.
Could u maybe do a kidnapper Michael & it’s like when u were younger you and your friends never spoke to him so he wanted to kidnap and make u love him & the truth is u loved him the whole time (even when u were younger) your friends just didn’t let u speak to him
AN Requested by tumblr user: @mk15x . This is loosely based off of once upon a time, one of the stories anyway. So if it seems familiar, that’s why. Also hello ???? It’s been nearly three years since I’ve been here???? I’m working the graveyard shift at work and I’m bored, so I came back to these. Also I miss creative writing. Also I’ve come back to my ATL imagines as well. If you wanna check that out. Lmao. guess I’m back ???
Warning: alcohol mention
Your POV
It was Friday night and my friends had just told me that they were going home. I groaned at the thought of being left alone, I wasn’t done yet. Why they had to leave already was beyond me, but I wanted to stay and party. I was busy dancing against some dude’s boner, and I had worked hard to get him like this, I wasn’t about to go home just yet.
“Alright, you guys go home without me!” I called, waving from the dance crowd. They turned around and broke the most sacred girl rule ever: never leave a friend behind. I was drunk, I wasn’t thinking clearly about all the things that could happen to me. All the things that were bound to happen in a room full of men on a dark Friday night. I wasn’t planning on going home with this man, I hope he knew that.
At about 2 A.M. the bar was closing and people were getting ready to go home for the night. I waited for my friends to show up because in my drunken state I had forgotten that they had already left.
“Alright, miss, it’s time to leave,” one of the bouncers told me.
“I’m w-waiting for my friennndds,” I slurred.
“I’m sure they already left, everyone’s gone.”
“Ohhhh. Right.” I nodded and hopped off my stool to go and hail a cab. Usually cabs waited close to bars at this time to catch rides. I was on my way to find one, when I saw a figure staring at me from down the sidewalk. My arms flew up to my shoulders to shield myself from the cold. In my drunken stupor, I thought I’d go check it out.
I squinted my eyes at the figure and stepped forward to get a closer look. “Hello?” I called out. I looked around, and everyone else had gone home. “Who are you?”
The figure said nothing, and it didn’t move. There was something oddly familiar about the posture, but I couldn’t remember. I wasn’t sure I could remember, even sober.
It finally moved and I took a step back in surprise, but when I caught my footing, it had disappeared. I shrugged and turned towards the street. I was sure that at some point a taxi would come pick me up. I stared at the barren street as it remained to be just that. Someone was definitely coming to get me, it’s not like they could leave me out here. Could they?
I heard faint breathing behind me and felt the warmth of their breath. I didn’t want to turn around to confront it. Maybe I had been imagining it. I stared hard at the continuously bare road with no one around. I saw a hand appear behind me from nowhere and started to stagger in an attempt to run away, but I was too drunk to do anything worthwhile. There was someone behind me, and it was too late to get away now. The hand covered my mouth and then another came around from the other side of me pinched my nose. I was out within five seconds.
When I awoke, I was in a cold damp room. I didn’t see anyone around, and by now most of the alcohol had worn off. I was still wearing my party dress, but it hadn’t been touched, so I don’t think I was taken for a sexual reason. At least I hoped so. I pushed myself up and looked around. My head was killing me, and I had no concept of the time. There were no windows, there were no doors. Only this room, and a small light that hung on the ceiling.
“Comfortable?” a voice asked from wherever he was. I was finally able to make out his figure, though faint, in a dark corner. He had the same posture as the figure from last night. It was a vague memory, but I distinctly remembered the posture. I wasn’t chained and I wasn’t tied up, but I felt uncomfortable, so I didn’t respond to his question. He let out a soft menacing chuckle. “Good.” I looked around the room for any other sign of life or previous capture and found nothing. “Don’t bother screaming,” he spoke. “The room’s soundproof.”
I squinted hard at the figure to try and make out who he was. His voice gave me an eerily familiar shiver, like I’d heard it before in different contexts. I started to get up, but my head started pounding and I fell back down to a sitting position.
“Here, your head must be killing you.” He slid a tray over to me, and for a split second I caught his appearance. Then it clicked. I knew who he was.
“Michael?” I coughed out. My throat was dry from the night before, and my headache wasn’t helping matters either.
“Not important,” he spoke as he stood up. He walked toward me, and I could finally see that it was, indeed, Michael Clifford, a boy from my past. My longest and most passionate crush I ever had. I may have dated throughout my adult life, but no one had ever come close to what he meant to me. We may have seen each other in the halls and we may have had one class together, but the feeling inside me he ignited was not a small one, and not one I could ever forget.
“Why?” was all I was able to make out.
“Also not important. Eat your eggs, love, I don’t want them to get cold.” I looked down and he had given me two ibuprofen for the pain and some scrambled eggs with milk. Hangover food. At least he was a thoughtful kidnapper. I took the ibuprofen and started to shovel the eggs in my mouth with the fork he gave me. I looked back up at him.
He smiled and turned away, back up the stairs to where I assumed he lived. I sighed and continued to eat my breakfast. When it was done, I was feeling better - hangover-wise anyway, though I was cold, since I was in my outfit from last night. I sighed and looked around at my new place. It was dark, and a little cold, but not unbearable. I laid down on the ground and sighed. I guess this was my life now. I closed my eyes and thought back to when I knew Michael in high school.
***
“Did you see the new kid?” one of my friends, Martha, whispered to me.
“Yeah, he’s kinda cute, right?” I smiled back.
“Cute? I mean I guess, if you like that sort of thing. Look at his fringe!”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s so long, like who does he think he is?” Sandra spoje up. “Pete Urie?”
“Okay, first of all, you’ve got to pick one, because Pete Urie isn’t a real person. At least a real famous person. It’s either Pete Wentz or Brendon Urie. Second of all, who cares?”
“Whatever,” They both rolled their eyes. “If you want to hang with us, you seriously better not talk to him.”
“But’s wrong with that?” He had walked by at this point, maybe even heard us talking about him.
“I just don’t want to be associated with someone like that,” Martha sighed, continuing to walk. I stared back at him longingly. I wanted to talk to him. Even be his friend. I guess this was it.
***
I internally cringed at that thought. I can’t believe I let my friends decide who and who not to talk to, like they had any sort of say. If they were really my friends, they wouldn’t have cared. Though that is who I’m living with now, even if we’re only friends out of commonality of location. And now the boy’s a psycho, so like a lot of good that did.
I heard the door open from upstairs again. I hope he was grabbing me a blanket. He approached my room, I’m assuming through the door I didn’t know existed in the first place. He walked up to me, and grabbed my (now empty) tray. He meandered toward me, and helped me up. He lead me out of the room upstairs from where he had gone. “Where are we going?” I asked him. No response. “Are you letting me go?”
“No,” he stated promptly. He stopped walking for a second, and I stopped walking with him. He wasn’t gripping my arm very hard. I could escape if I wanted to. Though I didn’t really want to. He thought for a moment, but then continued walking with me.
“Mm. Well.” He lead me to the rest of his place, which was a house of a sort. It looked like it was once lived in quite happily, but then a tornado of frat boys just totally trashed the place. “This isn’t quite clean, actually.”
“Yeah, it’s not.” We continued walking. We reached a surprisingly neat room, and went inside, about four feet in. “Listen.” He started, looking at me. In his eyes I saw longing, but for what, I couldn’t place. “I’m in like.. Dire need of someone to clean this house.”
“Yeah, that much is obvious.”
“And I know how much women like freedom.”
“That’s a good observation.”
“So, if you cleaned for me, you could earn your freedom.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “Are you telling me you kidnapped me because you wanted me to clean for you?”
“Well,” his hand reached up to scratch the back of his head bashfully, letting mine go. “Not entirely. The kidnapping thing was mostly to scare you.”
“That mostly worked. But why?”
“Not important-”
“A lot of things are not important it seems.” I laughed lightly at that.
“Yeah, well. What can you do. Anyway, you can stay here, or you can go to wherever you live, I don’t really care. Just, make sure you’re here every day.”
“So are you going to help me or something?”
“I don’t really know honestly. Didn’t think I’d get that far.”
“So you’re not going to pay me?” I asked him.
“No.”
“So what’s stopping me from just, never coming back?”
“Your undying love for me?” I opened my mouth to respond, but he continued on, interrupting what I was going to say. “Nothing, actually. You don’t have to earn your freedom. You can leave for all I care.”
“Yeah?”
“Just try not to fall in love with me if you come back again,” he said quietly, laughing to himself. He turned to walk away, but I spoke up before he could leave.
“Too late,” I muttered.he heard me, it seemed, as he stepped dead in his tracks. I looked around for something comfortable to put on, since I was still cold. Seriously, did he not have heat in this place? I found a hoodie lying on the floor and put it on, covering my hands in the sleeves like paws.
“What was that?”
I shrugged and sat down on the bed. “I can’t not fall in love with you, I’ve been in love with you. Since we were like 16.”
“Wait, wh-what the fuck? But you’ve-” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “You’ve never given me the time of day! Back then, since then.”
“Yeah, well. I’m nervous around people I find attractive. And my friends didn’t want me to, and I didn’t have a backbone to stand up to them.”
“You,” he took another breath, this one shallow. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know more than you think.” I stood up, and stared back at him. “That sounds creepier than I meant it to be, but it’s true. I’ve always wanted to get to know you.”
“Then,” he took a step closer to me. “This was all for nothing?”
“All for nothing? I thought you said you kidnapped me to scare me.”
“Well, yeah. I said that. But that was mostly because I was regretting it. Originally, I was going to make you fall in love with me.”
“Mmm. Not really helping your case there, bud.”
“Yeah, well I didn’t do that.”
“A good choice.”
“So,” he sighed, somehow nearer to me than he was before. “You’re actually in love with me.”
“Yep. As it was established.”
“So, are we going to do anything about it?”
“Like what?” I was also getting closer to him. We were now only about six inches apart. The only thing around was a bookcase with antique dishware on them.
“Oh you know,” he smiled. I could feel his breath on me, and my heartbeat started to pick up. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, smiling at me. “I like my hoodie on you.”
“Thanks,” I smiled shyly. “It’s comfy.”
“It suits you.” his voice was barely above a whisper as he leaned in for a kiss. I glanced down at his lips, my heart rate skyrocketing, then met him halfway. My hands went up to rest at the nape of his neck, playing with his overdyed hair, while his rested on my cheeks. I deepened the kiss, and he pushed me against the bookcase with more force than he was intending, causing a cup to fall to the ground. We both pulled apart to the sound of glass breaking.
“Fuck,” he gasped, breathless. He bent down to pick up the cup, then stood tall, knowingly close to me. “He fell.”
“He?”
“This whole tea set has a personality. My mom was all about that shit. This teacup is the son of that teapot right there. I can’t remember the cup’s name, but I remember the pot’s name was Mrs. Pots.”
“Chip.”
“Chip?” he looked at me expectantly.
“Like from the movie. You know, Beauty and the Beast?”
“Oh yeah!” He smiled again, and I immediately wanted his face to show nothing but that. “Chip,” he smiled contently.
