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lessi-lover · 11 months ago

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all is fair in love with you II a.russo x reader

summary: alessia comes with you for christmas. ★ all is fair in love with you II a.russo x reader

in the gentle embrace of the morning sky, the sun casted an unusual warm, golden, light through your large bedroom window. the window, adorned with soft, rustic curtains, slightly ajar, allowing the peaceful glow of the morning to filter through. framed photographs decorated the walls, each capturing a memory in time, all shared with your favourite blonde.

the same blonde lay peacefully in bed, with her hair spread out across your cream sheets. her face, half - buried into her pillow, only allowing calm, rhythmic breaths to leave her parted lips. a softly painted, hand draped itself across your waist, light pink nails slightly digging into your hips.

after a tough, but rewarding game against tottenham, all you wanted to do was allow your body to be welcomed by your lover’s comforting embrace, to feel the joyfulness of the holidays. you had quiet conversations discussing your plans for christmas, and enjoyed the unusual peacefulness you both felt.

her thumb gently traced patterns on your bare thigh, which was tucked tightly between her own pair of legs, a soothing gesture that would be able to ground you both in the moment.

“only if you’re ready to meet my family, lessi. they can be quite overwhelming.” your voice muffled by the blonde’s neck. during your 'cuddle session', your girlfriend had brought up the idea of potentially meeting the rest of your family for christmas. she had already met your parents couple months ago and the introduction couldn’t have gone smoother.

the blonde lifted her head from between your shoulder blades, her eyes filled with love and affection. “i’m willing to face the storm of mccabe siblings if it means i get to keep you,” alessia replied, arms wrapping tightly around you. a cheeky smile adorned her face, small dimples forming on the girl’s cheeks.

“absolutely love, and i promise i will tell them to keep the interrogating to a minimum,” you added, hoping to ease the girl of any worries. you had been dating for almost a year now, and making this step felt like a natural progression for your relationship.

“then saturday night sounds perfect, amore mio,” kissing your cheek, she gazed out the window.

the fading sunlight danced on her features, highlighting each perfection of her face, and you found yourself lost in captivation by her beauty.

"darling, are you sure i don’t need to go buy anything, and this outfit is appropriate?” the blonde asked, gesturing to what she was wearing. you had offered to help her get ready, knowing she was quite nervous about meeting your family.

“yes, i promise you don’t need to bring anything. and you look perfect, lessi, you always do,” you reassured her, a soft smile on your lips. you let the girl fuss over herself in the mirror one last time, the judgement in her own eyes, enough to make you cry.

“ready to go?” you asked the blonde, again she gave herself another look in the mirror and nodded, taking a deep breath. “okay, i can do this,” she said shakily. taking your hand, her confidence growing with your support.

the living room was alive with the sounds of a long - separated family finally together again. the house decorated with red, green and white tinsel, your christmas tree displayed proudly by the fire. the air thick with the smell of home- cooked food, and the walls echoed with laughter.

“hello, everyone!” you called out to your family, with a beaming smile, as the two of you entered through the front door, her hand firmly intertwined with yours. the living room erupted with cheerful greetings.

your family members were quick to welcome the both of you with open arms, instantly making the blonde feel like a part of the family. “how are ya!” your sister ella, was first one to reach you, excitedly engulfing you in a long awaited hug, nearly lifting you off the ground.

then came your youngest sister lauryn, and perhaps the one you missed the most. she crashed into you both, wrapping her arms around the both of you, before extending the invite alessia, pulling her into the embrace.

letting go, your sisters immediately started to create conversation with the blonde. her brows furrowed, both your sister's accents somehow stronger than the irish woman she saw daily, making it difficult for her to understand. questions about where you too met and how she dealt with you were dished out.

your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head, as your siblings told your most embarrassing moments to your girlfriend. about to cut into the exchange and save the poor girl, you were abruptly swept up in another embrace, by another set of arms wrapping around you, this time belonging to your mother.

cupping your face, your mom let a few tears slip, in which you wiped away with a small chuckle. "far too long, darling," your mother whispered, holding you so tightly in her grasp, as if you would slip away if she let go.

you hadn't been home in almost a whole year now, your thigh injury meaning you missed the ireland camps, and were forced to stay in london to recover. "i know, but i'm here now, that's what matters," you reassured her, rubbing her back up and down.

then suddenly, her watery eyes shifted to the left of you, arms immediately letting go. curious, you turned to see what had captured her attention. as if a moment in time paused, you saw your mom extending her arms out to alessia, enveloping her in a warm hug. you watched as your mom and girlfriend chatted, your mom making cheesy jokes that she can call her 'mom', and alessia doing her best to keep up with her rambling.

after exhaustingly greeting each of your family members you were finally able to speak to your girlfriend. although not without a few sly comments from your siblings, about the "fashionably late couple", courtesy of your well complimented outfits, - which the blonde would profusely deny she chose.

my father's entrance from the kitchen was perfectly timed, strutting around in his 'dad apron', he announced that dinner was ready. the heavy scent of food was now flowing freely through the house, everybody sitting down, excited to finally eat.

throughout dinner, alessia charmed everyone with her wit and kindness. your family was captivated by her presence, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride seeing how well she connected with them, effortlessly joining conversations. the blonde once shy, began opening up more, cracking jokes and adding the playful banter between your siblings.

"can't forget the time when y/n tried to bake a cake and it ended up looking like a deflated football?" your sister, katie pipes up. laughter erupting amongst your family. "never letting that one go. it's in the mccabe hall of fame now," your older brother added. laughter breaking out through the dining room.

"was it at least edible?" alessia asked, with a playful glint in her eye. "hey! it was, it tasted… well, it tasted interesting, i'll have you know." you responded before any of your siblings could, feigning offense to the comments about your cooking skills.

"interesting is one way to put it. i think even dad had second thoughts." your youngest sister said teasingly. the table bursts into laughter, even louder this time. "i think we've found a new judge for our family cooking contests!" your mother exclaims. alessia laughs, looking more relaxed than she had felt in a long time. "just wait until you hear about the time y/n tried to fix the sink on her own, and flooded the kitchen!"

alessia's eyes widen in amusement, turning to you with her eyebrows raised. "i'm being ganged up on! that didn't happen!" you threw your arms up, trying to think of any excuse to save yourself. "oh that reminds me!" your mother changed the topic, everyone confused as she swiftly left the dining room looking for something.

a moment later your mother returned, but this time with 12 wrapped gifts in her hands. "presents!" she exclaimed, your siblings faces lighting up and their mother's clear excitement. handing each gift, you waited patiently for your turn.

your mother handed you a wrapped gift box, a deep blue wrapping with a golden coloured bow lay in front of you, attached the gold ribbon read a small handwritten tag with your name on it. next to you alessia's eyes glistened, face lit up in anticipation. until, the blonde was given her own gift. "and one for our newest family member," you mother said, her voice laced with warmth. the comment making the blonde's eyes twinkle, a large grin plastered on her face.

"well don’t just stare at em, open them!" wrapping paper flew, a series of cheers chorused as each sibling opened their gift. each gift contained a christmas styled sweater, customised for the sibling.

for alessia, her sweater was a classic, elegant design, in a soft heather maroon colour. it featured a ribbed pattern, and a vibrant red turtleneck, perfect for chilly nights in london.

opening your own gift, you were given a similar sweater to the blonde. a chic, oversized sweater, with a trendy off the shoulder cut, although yours was a slightly richer red, more of a deep burgundy, both sweaters again complimenting each other.

a wave of cozy, oversized sweaters were lifted up in hands across the table, a mix of black, blue, greens, reds and pink sweaters clouded your view, each sibling as happy with their gift as the last. your mom stood at the end of the table, and you could only describe her facial expressions as truly at peace, her children finally together in time for christmas.

giggling with the blonde, you felt so at ease. she really was the one for you. ahead of you, both your parents stood, looking so proud and content. your father's arm was wrapped around your mother, holding her close, eyes glistening. they shared a knowing glance, their gazes both loving and approving. an unspoken message laying in their eyes, a silent affirmation that seemed to say, "she's perfect for you."

as the night went on, you found yourself falling even more in love with alessia, appreciating the way she effortlessly fit into your family and made everyone feel at ease. it was a night you would always cherish, the beginning of many more gatherings to come. you had never felt your family bond feel so strong.

after all, this was what christmas was about.

Liked by leahwilliamsonn, @y/m/n_ and 93,048 others

alessiarusso99 beautiful way to end a really positive 2023, with my girls and thank you mom for the sweater, the girls loved <3

view all 728 comments

y/n_y/l/n understatement of the season. that sweater is incredible. 💗

victoriapelova ❤️❤️

leahwilliamsonn I want my own one @y/n_y/l/n

y/n_y/l/n @y/m/n_ leah wants one as well

bethmead_ i think we all deserve a sweater for christmas? 🧐

katie_mccabe11 😍

lottewubbenmoy love you, sis ❤️

view 1 more reply

15 hours ago

#arsenal wfc #woso #alessia russo #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso community #katie mccabe #leah williamson #lotte wubben moy #victoria pelova

468 notes · View notes

andvys · 1 year ago

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I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 19

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of drugs, alcohol consumption, reader getting high, spin the bottle.... don't hate me,

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader, Eddie Munson x fem!reader, Robin Buckley x Chrissy Cunningham

Summary: The last high school party ends in a way you never thought it would

Word count: 8k+

A/N: @hellfire--cult Roe, you are such a big help, thank you so so much for always helping me with ideas and dialogues, ilysm

series masterlist

The dreamy look in Chrissy’s eyes isn’t very hard to miss, it’s been there for weeks now. The smile that lingers on her soft features matches the lovestruck eyes. Lost in her thoughts, she completely dismisses the things you and Heather are talking about. You don’t take it to heart.

It took you a moment but once you noticed how her eyes light up and how her cheeks flush a deeper color every time Robin comes around, you realized what was happening to your sweet friend.

And by the look on Robin’s face every time she sees Chrissy, you know that she is feeling just the same.

Chrissy giggles more than usual whenever the taller girl speaks – she could say anything to her and Chrissy would smile and look up at her dreamily with her cute red cheeks. She probably doesn’t even notice how flustered Robin gets or how she stutters over certain words sometimes.

You are happy about Chrissy’s newfound feelings for her, knowing that Robin reciprocates them. She doesn’t have to hurt anymore.

“Are you gonna wear that to the party?” Heather asks, eying the dress on your frame.

You stop applying mascara and pull back to look at her reflection through the large mirror on Chrissy’s pink wall.

“Yeah, why?” You ask, looking down at yourself – self consciously.

She shrugs, closing the magazine she was previously reading, she throws it on Chrissy’s bed.

“It’s a shame that Munson isn’t coming tonight, I know he would’ve loved you in that dress,” she says, winking.

Chrissy stops brushing her hair and turns her head to look at you.

The look on Heather’s face is smug, she is twirling her curls with her finger, wiggling her brows at you.

It is a shame that he isn’t coming but tonight is his last campaign before he gives up his beloved Dungeon Master position to someone else, Gareth probably. High school is over and Hellfire club will no longer be a part of his life – he will still play but it won’t ever be the same again.

You are no longer Cheer Captain and Eddie is no longer the Dungeon master.

There is something sad about having to say goodbye to your High School days but there is also something exciting about stepping into the unknown and getting out into the world.

You and Eddie celebrated by having lunch with your mom and his uncle after the graduation ceremony. It was nice, you had fun but a part of you couldn’t rest, knowing that Steve’s parents couldn’t make it to see him graduating.

You haven’t seen much of him either, you saw him in the crowd and on stage when he got his diploma but that’s all, you couldn’t find him anywhere else afterwards. You couldn’t congratulate him.

A part of you hopes that he will be at the party tonight, though you doubt that he will come.

You don’t feel your cheeks warming up, nor do you notice the look in your own eyes. You shift uncomfortably, breaking eye contact, you lean closer to the mirror again. You place the mascara bottle back in your little bag and reach for the powdered blush.

“Oh honey, you don’t need any more of that,” Chrissy says, giggling as she touches your hot cheek.

You roll your eyes and shake your head at them, “you are both insufferable,” you mumble, “it’s a normal dress, he wouldn’t think anything of it.”

Heather giggles behind you, “oh my sweet y/n,” she sighs as she kneels down behind you, carefully wrapping her arms around you, she leans her chin on your shoulder, “you are so oblivious.”

You wonder what she would think if she found out that Nancy would agree with her words.

“And so blind,” Chrissy adds.

“Maybe our girl needs a pair of cute glasses,” Heather says, running her fingers through your hair.

“I don’t need glasses!”

“Sure, you don’t.”

“Heather,” you mumble, raising your brows at her, “how about we talk about you and pizza guy.”

“Pizza and weed guy,” Chrissy corrects you with a smile.

Unlike you, Heather doesn’t blush or get flustered. She smiles and shrugs, “what about us?”

You and Chrissy face each other with surprised looks on your faces.

For weeks, you have been speculating about Heather and Argyle, wondering if the two of them are a thing or not. Heather had been secretive about the meetups. At first, you both thought that she continued seeing Billy but then you saw him making out with a girl from the cheer squad.

Apparently Heather and Billy have never been a ‘thing’ in the first place. It was a ‘no strings’ kind of thing until one of them got sick of the other – which, you could easily suspect Billy to be the one who got sick but it was the other way around.

Heather had stood him up for Argyle. Billy didn’t give much of a reaction to it but unfortunately, he set his eyes back on you – much to your dismay.

“There is an ‘us’?” You ask in surprise.

Heather smiles brighter, she bites her lip and leans back, “maybe,” she grins, “I mean he just asked me to be his girlfriend the other day,” she says casually as she looks down at her nails.

You and Chrissy gasp at her words, you both turn around to face her and squeal in excitement as you both throw your arms around her, catching her off guard. She falls down against the carpet and you both join her, giggling.

“Oh my god!” Heather laughs.

“Heather has a boyfriend!” Chrissy says in a sing-song voice.

“We gotta celebrate it,” you say, squeezing your friend tightly.

“Oh we’re going to,” Chrissy smirks at you.

“I guess we’re getting drunk tonight.”

You would be lying if you said that you aren’t feeling the slightest bit nervous. You haven’t had any alcohol since the night you went on a date with Ray and that night ended badly.

By the time you actually make it to the big graduation party at Tina’s place, it’s already in full swing. The music is picked and chosen by her best friend Faithe – who strictly listens to 80’s pop music; Duran Duran, Wham!, Madonna – especially Madonna.

Your friends scatter away from you the moment they lay their eyes on Robin and Argyle – Argyle who scoops Heather up in his arms and kisses her in front of everyone to see. You can’t help but laugh.

Robin and Chrissy disappear in the crowd, giggling and leaning closer to each other, both sporting deep blushes on their faces. Cute.

Now that you’re alone, you can’t help but wish that you didn’t come. You wish Eddie was here. You are not mad at them for leaving you behind – they’re in love and in their own little worlds. You don’t blame them.

Though you can’t help but feel out of place and awkward standing here in the doorway, all by yourself.

Is that how your friends always felt when you would leave them just to be with Steve?

With a sigh, you walk further into the house, pushing through the crowds until you make it to the kitchen. You feel relieved to see that it isn’t as crowded as the living room or even the hallway.

The kitchen counter is littered with various drinks and snacks, greasy junk food that will surely look more appealing to you when you’re drunk. You grab yourself one of the red solo cups. Just as you’re about to pour yourself some punch, you get interrupted by a hand closing in around your wrist.

“Don’t drink that shit.”

You look over your shoulder, only to roll your eyes in annoyance when you notice the smirk on his face and the gross look in his eyes.

“Fuck off, Hargrove,” you mumble as you push your hand off your wrist.

“Let me make you a real drink, baby.”

Once again, you have to roll your eyes at him. You place the cup down and turn around to face him, “what and spike it with drugs?”

He raises his brows, lifting his hand up, he places it on his chest – of course, he wears the shirt unbuttoned, well almost.

“What do you think of me?”

“You don’t wanna know,” you murmur under your breath.

His blue eyes glisten with something, the smirk of amusement never falls. He takes a step closer – at least, he smells good.

“You look like you can use a drink, let me make you one. It’s better than the shit you were about to drink,” he says as he reaches for the bottle of whiskey behind you, purposely leaning closer until his chest is almost pressed against yours and you can feel his minty breath on your skin. He glances down at your lips.

“Billy.”

“Yes, sweet thing?”

You put your hand on his chest and push him away, “you’re not slick, stop trying to get in my pants.”

He chuckles and leans back again, he unscrews the cap of the glass bottle.

“Tell me,” he reaches for the red up and pours in some of the whiskey, “don’t you want to have a good time?”

“Uh, I am having a good time,” you lie.

He chuckles again and places the bottle back on the table before he reaches for another. He gives you a doubtful look, “you don’t look like you’re having fun.”

“I just got here.”

“And you already look like you wanna get out.”

You clench your jaw and look away, not saying anything.

“Where’s your boyfriend?”

“Eddie is not my boyfriend,” you mumble, narrowing your eyes at him.

Eyes smug and lips curled into a smirk, he shakes his head, “how’d you know who I was talking about?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you huff.

“Is he not here tonight?” He asks as he holds out the cup to you.

You look down at the mixed drink, hesitating before you give in and take it from his hand.

“No,” you shake your head and lift the cup up to your lips, ignoring the way he looks at you as you take the first sip. The strong and bitter taste trickles down your throat, you can’t help but squint your eyes, “wow, that’s strong,” you say before taking another sip.

Billy groans, “shit, and here I thought I could make him jealous enough to finally confess his feelings for you.”

You swallow the drink just in time before you start choking.

You have been good at avoiding that topic after your conversation with Nancy.

“Are you okay?” He chuckles, stepping closer to pat your back gently, “do you need me to make you feel better?”

“Billy!” You groan as you push his hand off.

“It’s so hot when you say my name–”

“Leave her alone, Hargrove.”

Steve.

His voice sends shivers down your spine but it also fills you with relief.

Billy is not a threat, at least not to you. He might get on your last nerve but he is not Ray. Still, you are always annoyed by his presence.

Billy’s eyes light up like the ones of a kid on christmas morning. His smirk widens and he turns around.

Eddie may not be here but Steve is. Steve who wants you just as much as Eddie does. Steve who got jealous at every small interaction you had with Billy – Steve who still gets jealous.

Steve glares at Billy, with his hands on his hips, he waits for the latter to step away from you.

They look at each other and you are surprised to see Billy so relaxed, the sight of Steve usually makes him angry. Tonight, he seems to be in a different mood though. The scowl is replaced by a smirk.

He looks back at you before he steps away, “if you wanna have a good time, you know where to find me,” he winks.

“No thanks,” you scrunch your face up in disgust.

He chuckles and finally walks away, passing by Steve only to halt beside him. Billy stares him down, another chuckle of amusement falls from his lips. He slaps Steve’s shoulder, “lighten up, Harrington. Maybe you’ll get lucky tonight.”

Steve shrugs his hand off, he clenches his jaw and glares at the blond.

Billy shakes his head, “you sure need to blow off some steam,” he smirks, raising his brows, he gestures to you, “she needs it too – although, I’m sure Munson helps her with that,” he whispers with a smug look on his face.

“Fuck off,” Steve grumbles, though he can’t stop himself from feeling jealous.

Surprisingly, Billy drops it and walks away. Though, both you and Steve know that this isn’t the last you will see of Billy tonight.

Steve rolls his eyes and huffs in annoyance before he makes his way over to you.

Still with the drink in your hand, you stand in the same spot as before. Staring at him, unknowingly making him nervous.

“Hey,” he smiles.

He takes in the sight of you in your little black dress, your hair is falling softly over your shoulders, the front pieces are secured with glittery clips, your lips are a soft pink, shiny with gloss. Your manicured fingers are wrapped around the red solo cup.

You look beautiful. He wants to say, but he’s not sure if that’s something you want to hear from him again.

“Hi,” you smile up at him.

“Did your friends ditch you?”

“Yes, actually,” you chuckle, “Chrissy is hanging out with her… new best friend Robin and Heather is with Argyle.”

“Oh, the new guy with the long hair?” He asks, gesturing to the hair.

“Yeah!”

“Ah,” he nods.

Steve looks better, there are no dark circles under his eyes anymore, though his eyes still hold the same sadness as before.

You didn’t expect to see him here tonight. Him and Tommy aren’t friends anymore and now that he and Nancy are broken up, he doesn’t have her either. Steve always hated coming to parties alone so that leaves you wondering…

“Are you here with someone?” You ask, feeling a rush of jealousy at the thought of him being on a date with some other girl.

He shakes his head. Watching the way your features soften and your shoulder slump with relief when he says ‘no’.

“You’re here by yourself?”

“Yeah, I-I didn’t want to come but it’s the last high school party,” he says, shrugging. “I didn’t want to miss it.” I didn’t want to miss you. He reaches for one of the beers on the table, though when he opens the can and takes the first sip, he scrunches his face up in disgust. He hates lukewarm beverages, especially alcoholic ones.

“You don’t look like you’re having fun.”

“You don’t either,” he chuckles, eying the bored expression on your face.

“Well, getting drunk by yourself isn’t fun.”

Steve’s eyes are soft in a way they had never been before, not even when you just started dating, when things were still good, when he was still good to you. And just his eyes alone, the look in them is enough to cause a whirlwind of emotions inside of you.

You remember your night together. The one back in december. The one that was supposed to be your last night together. The one when you said goodbye – the one that was supposed to be your last goodbye.

There will never be a goodbye for you and Steve, not really.

“But… we could spend some time together.”

The look in his eyes is one of surprise. You may have been kinder to him in the past few weeks, but he still didn’t expect you to want to spend time with him.

“Y-You want to spend time with me?”

A mixture of emotions rush through him. Excitement, happiness but also nervousness. The last time you had spent a night together, it ended with you both crying.

You look around and he just now notices the sadness in your eyes.

The last time you went to one of Tina’s parties, he got smashed and he broke your heart. You want to replace those memories with new ones. As though it could ever kill the old ones.

“You don’t have to say yes, there’s plenty of girls who’d want to–”

“I wanna spend time with you.”

A shy smile appears on your face when your features relax again.

He smiles back, though he can’t help but wonder where Eddie is.

“Eddie isn’t here tonight?”

He watches you closely, the way your lips set into a slight pout and your brows furrow.

“No.”

Did something happen? He wonders. Where you go, Eddie goes. It’s odd to see you without him after seeing you with him, everywhere.

“Right so… Uh, what should we do?”

“What do you mean?”

You give him a smirk, placing the drink back on the counter, you lift your hand up. Steve can’t help but follow your movements with his eyes, only to stare in surprise when you lift your hand and reach for something… in your bra. He just now notices how the locket rests perfectly between your boobs.

He clears his throat and looks away with a blush on his cheeks.

“Are we getting drunk or high?” You hold the joint in front of his eyes, giggling when his eyes widen even further.

He grabs your hand and pulls it down, trying to hide the joint in your hand.

“Y/n!” He yells in a whisper, looking around to see if anyone saw, but there is no one looking at the two of you, there is no one in the kitchen at all. He turns back, looking down at you with a bewildered look on his face.

“Or both?” You giggle, “Eddie and I do both sometimes.”

He knows that it’s not only your looks that have changed in the past few months – it’s nothing drastic, it’s only different clothes, different makeup and your hair that you wear differently – maybe your perfume too. Clearly, you have changed too. You will always be a sweet girl, the one that is too kind to the world despite how harshly it treated you in the past, but he wasn’t aware that your opinion on drugs has changed.

He shouldn’t be surprised about the joint in your hand. You do hang out with Eddie, after all. Though, he didn’t expect you to be so open about this. Now, he can’t help but wonder if there are other things that you do with Eddie.

Steve won’t ask questions that he might regret asking. Instead, he agrees to both and pushes any thought that only leaves him upset, away. He wants to have a good night. He wants to have one good last high school party with you.

So, he takes the joint from you with the hand that is still holding the beer and with his free hand, he reaches for yours. Interlocking his fingers with yours. He feels his heart skipping a beat when you don’t pull away.

“Let’s do both.”

A smile tugs at your lips, you grab your drink from the counter, “let’s go outside.”

As Steve leads you out of the kitchen, he pulls you even closer to him before you walk into the crowded hallway. Neither of you notice the eyes that have set on you.

“Would you look at that?” Carol smirks as she turns her head to look at Tommy, who is looking down at his beer in boredom.

He lifts his head, looking down at Carol, he raises his brows at her.

She rolls her eyes and nudges her head in your direction.

“Oh,” he chuckles when he sees the two of you.

“Let’s make this party more interesting.”

Chrissy is drunk, not drunk on alcohol, drunk on something else.

Robin is talking about her favorite bands, the ones she wants to see live at some point. She’s waving her hand around as she talks – rambles. Robin’s cheeks are flushed but Chrissy doesn’t know whether it’s from the heat, the alcohol or something else – she hopes that it’s from something else.

Chrissy nods along with a smile on her face, admiring the girl in front of her. Loving the way Robin leans closer to her so she doesn’t have to scream over the loud music. She can’t unsee the small differences between them; Robin’s nails are painted black, silver rings adorn her long fingers while Chrissy’s nails are painted a baby pink color, a single golden ring is on her middle finger. Robin’s clothes are dark, Chrissy’s clothes are bright and girly. Their music taste is not the same, though Chrissy is open for changes. She loves how different they are.

Robin’s hair is short, her curls are messy, her bangs are long and they need to be cut, Chrissy can’t help but raise her hand to brush them away from her eyes so she can see her beautiful eyes.

Robin’s eyes widen at Chrissy’s action, the already pink blush on her cheeks takes on a red color and the blonde girl in front of her can’t help but giggle to herself when Robin stops all her rambling and starts staring at her instead, in silence.

Neither of them know how the other actually feels, if they weren’t so scared, they’d see the obvious signs.

They look into each other’s eyes, both trying to fight the smiles off their faces. Neither of them notice the girl that stopped in front of them with a worried look on her face.

“Hey, lover girls. Have you seen y/n?”

Both of them tear the gazes away from one another, clearing their throats and looking awkwardly at the brunette.

“W-What?” Chrissy asks, feeling grateful for the foundation she had put on her face earlier tonight. She can feel her hot cheeks.

Heather looks around the room, trying to spot you in the crowds but you are nowhere to be seen.

“I haven’t seen her since we got here.”

Robin straightens her back, a worried look takes over her face as well. She hasn’t even greeted you properly, too focused on the blonde beside her.

“Oh,” Chrissy mumbles, getting up to look around as well, “do you think Eddie came?”

“No, he takes his campaigns very seriously,” Robin says with wide eyes, “he got mad at me for even asking if he’d come. It’s the cult of Vecna tonight – whatever that means.”

“I’ve looked for her everywhere but–”

“She’s playing spin the bottle with Carol and the others.”

All three of them turn around to face the girl that chimed in. Tina.

“She’s what!?”

Tina chuckles in amusement, she nudges her chin into the direction of the dining room.

“Looks like she’s having fun,” is all she says before she walks off again.

The three girls share a look of confusion before they make their way over to the other room. Trying not to bump into any of the drunken girls who are dancing carelessly.

They all expect to walk in on a very drunk you. Because, usually it takes a lot to convince you to join a game of truth or dare, never have i ever and let alone spin the bottle. You don’t like kissing strangers or risking the possibility to kiss someone you cannot stand.

Though when they walk into the room and they see you sitting in a circle with a few people you don’t like, they can’t help but halt in their tracks and stare in confusion.

Tommy, Carol, Billy, Nancy, Jonathan, and a few girls from the cheer squad are sitting in the circle. None of them which you can stand – well, except for Jonathan, maybe.

And then there is Steve, who sits beside you.

You look… sober. Maybe a little intoxicated but very far from drunk or high. Although, when Robin takes a closer look at you, she notices the redness in your eyes, maybe you are a little high.

“What the hell,” Chrissy mumbles, looking at all the people in the circle.

Your lipstick is still intact, you probably haven’t kissed yet.

Carol is the first to notice the three girls, a smirk appears on her smug face, “oh, why don’t you join us?”

You turn your head, suddenly feeling flustered when you see your friends. Heather’s face says it all, ‘what the fuck?’

“No thanks, Carol.”

Billy smirks at Heather, “oh come on, Heather. Don’t you want a little kiss?”

She scrunches her face up in disgust, “no thanks, Hargrove. I’ve had enough of you.”

Chuckles sound through the room and Tommy claps his hand on Billy’s back, “you got burned.”

Billy chuckles, “not really, I’m gonna kiss someone else tonight,” he smirks, turning to look at you.

You don’t even know how you let yourself get roped into this. This wasn’t even supposed to be a game of spin the bottle, it was supposed to be truth or dare – though Tommy changed his decision at the last minute and managed to convince all the others as well. You didn’t want to chicken out, so you stayed and luckily, you didn’t have to kiss anyone yet. Neither did Steve.

For the first time tonight, you feel relieved that Eddie isn’t here.

You glance at Robin and Chrissy who stare at the men in the circle – both sporting looks of disgust. You smile in amusement. They both take a seat on the loveseat, clearly not interested in joining the game.

“Heather, come on,” Tommy smirks, eying her up and down, “it’s the last time you get to play one of these silly games. After this night, we’re all adults.”

“No thanks,” Heather snorts as she crosses her arms over her chest, “you still need to grow some, Hagan.”

This time it’s Billy who laughs at him, he leans closer, “burned,” he chuckles.

Nancy rolls her eyes, “I’m done playing.”

“Oh but Nancy, the game hasn’t even started yet,” Carol smirks at her, stopping her from getting up by placing her hand on her upper arm.

Nancy glares at the redhead and pushes her hand off. Jonathan looks tense beside her, he sits there awkwardly, looking like he wants to be anywhere but here.

How did Carol even convince these two to join?

Tommy and Billy look like they are having the time of their lives. The cheerleaders look… bored. Carol looks smug as always. You and Steve? You are both trying not to burst into giggles.

When Carol found the two of you in the backyard, you were laying on the grass, passing the joint back and forth and laughing about things that weren’t even funny. She got you at the right time, you and Steve would have said yes to anything in the states you were in. You were looking for amusement and now, well, now you got it.

Sarah kisses Tommy. Tommy kisses Hailey. Carol looks pissed.

You guess that the rumors about them are true. They are broken up. But what is new? No one has a messier on and off relationship than these two.

Hailey, one of the girls from the cheer squad, is the one who always makes up all these rumors that the people love so much. Her bright red hair makes her skin appear even more pale, though they match with the red lips which are now smudged. She spins the bottle and finally it lands on the one who has been waiting to be kissed.

Billy.

You are pretty sure that Billy had a taste of the redhead before – there aren’t many girls he hasn’t been with yet. He gets around.

You scoot a little closer to Steve and glance at him in disgust at the makeout session that is happening in front of your face. Gross.

Steve can’t help but chuckle at the look on your face.

��Dude,” Tommy laughs at his friend, “calm down.”

From the corner of your eye, you see Robin and Chrissy leaving.

When Billy pulls away, he gives Hailey a pat on the cheek. She giggles at him and licks her lips as she sits back in her place.

“This is gonna appear in my nightmare tonight,” Steve whispers to you.

You hold your hand in front of your mouth as you laugh at his words.

When Billy spins the bottle, your night changes for the worse.

You watch it spin with a pounding heart, for the first time, you watch it nervously.

Please don’t let it be me, please don’t let it be me, please don’t–

The glass bottle stops spinning and it’s pointing right at you. Oh god. No.

The music in the other room is still playing just as loud as before, though the laughter from Tommy and Carol somehow sounds louder than Billy Joel’s voice blaring through the speakers.

You don’t notice the way Steve tenses up beside you or the way his eyes flash with anger and jealousy.

“Fuck yes,” Billy chuckles.

You only feel the despair in your body and the annoyance that rushes through you when you look at a smug Billy, who looks like he’s won the lottery. His eyes are filled with excitement, his lips that are now red thanks to Hailey’s lipstick curl into a smirk.

“Come here, y/n.”

Steve clenches his fist and his jaw. The fire inside of him is burning.

“Yeah, y/n,” Carol tilts her head as she takes in the hesitation on your face, “don’t be such a pussy.”

Of course these words would come back to you. It’s what you said to her when she refused to kiss Lily, who already left after a few rounds.

You roll your eyes and take a sip of your drink before you put the cup down.

Heather, who is still around, gives you an apologetic look. God, you are glad that she doesn’t like him anymore, you would have preferred to be a ‘pussy’ than kiss some guy that your friend likes.

You meet Billy in the middle.

He doesn’t even hesitate to cup your cheeks with his hands. He doesn’t lean in, right away. He looks over at Steve for a split second, almost laughing at the look on his face. He turns his attention back on you.

You really don’t want to do this. You really don’t want to kiss him. You’d honestly prefer to kiss anyone else in this room except for Billy Hargove. Anyone. You feel the eyes on you. You feel Steve’s eyes burning into your skin. You feel Carol’s eyes on you. Heather’s and even Nancy’s.

Billy smells like cigarettes, whiskey and cologne.

He smashes his lips against yours and kisses you. You close your eyes to make it less awkward. You begrudgingly kiss him back. He slides his hand down to your waist and pulls you closer until your chest is pressed against his.

You want to roll your eyes at Tommy’s whistle and at Carol’s giggle but you ignore them.

Billy kisses you roughly – it’s not as bad as the kiss you have had with Ray but you still can’t shake the fact that you are kissing him. At least, his lips are soft. They taste like strawberry – probably thanks to Hailey and her strawberry lip gloss that she always wears over her red lipstick.

Billy’s lips move slower now but still just as deep, you feel his breath on your skin, his touch that is surprisingly soft. If you didn’t know any better, you would think that he is trying to savor every second of the kiss.

You make the mistake of letting yourself get lost in your thoughts. Suddenly, it’s not Billy kissing you anymore, it’s another man.

It’s his lips that you are kissing, his shoulders that you are touching, his ring that is digging into your waist, it’s him, it’s–

Billy. You are kissing Billy. You instantly pull away when the realization sinks back in, you push him away and pull back.

Billy chuckles, he looks at you through hooded eyes and leans closer, “that made me really fucking hard,” he whispers.

You scrunch your face up in disgust and turn away from him, wanting to escape him quickly. You glance at Steve, who is looking at the ground with an angry and powerless look on his face. Shit.

“Well, that was one hell of a kiss,” Tommy laughs, not looking at you, not looking at Billy but at Steve, he is looking at Steve and he is smirking.

“You must feel stupid, huh Harrington?”

“Shut up, Tommy.”

He pays you no mind, his attention is solely on Steve. And the others are staring at him as well. You can’t help but glance at Nancy, she’s looking at him with an almost pitiful look in her eyes.

You quickly reach for the bottle, wanting to kill the awkward tension in the room.

This night can’t get any worse. You think to yourself.

You spin the bottle as you inwardly curse at yourself for letting Carol convince you to join this stupid game. You didn’t even want to kiss anyone, let alone Billy. You didn’t want to upset Steve. You didn’t want to think about–

“Oh!” Carol laughs loudly, clapping her hands together.

Hailey snickers next to her, looking at you in amusement.

“Oh damn,” Tommy snorts.

Your heart begins to race in your chest but you don’t even know who it’s pointing at yet. You have a feeling who it is. And when you see the apologetic look in both Jonathan’s eyes and Heather’s eyes, you know.

You blink and take a deep breath before you glance at the bottle.

The bottle that is pointing right at him. Steve.

The girls around you are giggling, giving you smug looks. Carol is staring at you expectedly. Bitch.

Steve is staring at you already, suddenly, every ounce of anger has faded away. His eyes are wide, lips parted as he looks at you.

This isn’t ideal. This shouldn’t have to happen this way. But, he would be lying if he said that it’s something he doesn’t want. Maybe, this will be the last time. Maybe, this will be the only chance he gets to feel your kiss again.

“You don’t have to,” he whispers to you, but you are already moving closer to him.

You won’t walk away now. It’s exactly what they want, they want to see you running away. But you won’t run away, not now, not yet.

You ignore the pounding in your chest, the butterflies that dance in your stomach when you lean closer to him. He looks at you, wide eyed.

You don’t want it to happen this way but would you deny a kiss with him, right now? No.

“It’s just a kiss right?” You whisper as you gaze into his hazel eyes.

How could it ever be just a kiss?

You are the one to move even closer to him. You are the one to cup his cheeks.

Steve’s heart is surely about to explode.

He hates that this has to happen like this – that it’s caused by a game. That this isn’t supposed to mean anything.

Despite the others in the room, the loud music, the eyes on you. You both fade out everything around you.

It’s just you and him now.

You lean in, he leans in.

And for the first time in a long time, your lips brush against Steve’s and that is enough to set all your insides on fire. Just a simple touch.

You peck his lips, you only peck his lips and Steve is already in bliss. But then you smash your lips against his and suddenly, he is back in heaven. The light is shining again, the warmth is flooding back in, the sweetness of your lips is enough to mend his heart that he broke himself.

He doesn’t hesitate for a single second to kiss you back. He cups your cheeks and pulls you as closely as he can.

Everything around him stops existing.

All there is, is you and him.

He feels you, he feels your touch, your lips, your kiss.

He feels your love that is pouring back in.

He feels you.

You, you, you.

Everything falls back into place again.

Your lips are moving ever so softly with each other. Desperately but still passionately. Your lips still taste like cherry, his still taste minty.

His heart is racing, yours is too.

He holds you tightly but gently, he doesn’t want this moment to end, he doesn’t want to stop kissing you, he never wants to stop kissing you again.

This is right. This is what he is meant to do. This is all he’s ever dreamed of and more. He missed this. He missed you so much.

But the moment could never last long enough and he crashes back into reality when you pull away in need of air. Your lips part from his, your touch leaves his body and everything that is left behind is the kiss that lingers – the kiss that will linger for the rest of his life if this is the last one he gets from you.

His lips tingle and he fights the urge to touch them.

He doesn’t want to open his eyes, he doesn’t want to crash back into a world where you aren’t his anymore.

When he does open his eyes and he sees the look on your face, the shock in your eyes, the emotions that are still there, the love. He knows, he still has a chance.

He can still have you.

He can still fight for you.

He can still get you back.

But, for now, he lets you walk away when you make up some weak excuse and rush out of the room.

Heather doesn’t even hesitate to follow you out, calling your name and rushing after you. She passes by Argyle who is talking to a group of guys, she gives him an apologetic look.

You push past Jason Carver, pushing him out of the way.

“Hey!” He yells, “watch where you’re going!”

“Shut it, blondie,” Heather snaps at him.

You grab the leather jacket that you have left on the counter earlier and finally leave the house. The fresh air calms you down in an instant, you embrace the silence and feel grateful that there is no one out on the porch, right now.

No one except for you and Heather.

She shuts the door behind her, she crosses her arms over her chest when the chilly wind touches her bare arms.

“Are you okay?”

You lean against the railing and sigh.

“Yeah. You should go back inside, Heather.”

“No.”

She refuses to leave you alone when you’re upset.

“I’m okay.”

“But–”

You turn back around, “I’m okay,” you repeat, trying to smile at her.

“I promise, I just need a moment to myself after all of… this.”

“Are you sure?”

The sincere look in her eyes makes you smile, genuinely, this time.

You nod.

“But if you need anything, you tell me and I’ll take you home and we can have a girls night with Chrissy. Robin too.”

Your eyes soften.

“We should actually do that sometime.”

“We should.”

“Now go back inside, I’m sure your boyfriend misses you.”

She looks down and smiles, “alright..”

She turns back around, hesitantly.

“I can’t believe you used to kiss Billy all the time.”

Heather turns around to glare at you, “don’t ever mention that again.”

You giggle at the look on her face.

“I can’t believe that you kissed Billy and Steve in one night,” she smirks, winking at you before she walks back inside, leaving you by yourself.

“Right..”

You want to forget about the kiss, the one with Billy at least.

You reach for the pack of cigarettes in your pocket, walking over to the porch steps, you sit down and light a cigarette. You don’t smoke very often, only when you’re stressed.

You enjoy the silence, though, it doesn’t last very long. Someone steps out on the porch and you inwardly pray that it isn’t Steve or Billy.

The footsteps give it away, it’s neither of them.

You lift your head to look, it’s no friend of yours either.

It’s Nancy Wheeler standing in front of you – no, sitting down beside you.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

For a moment, you both sit in silence. You offer her a cigarette, to your surprise, she takes one and lights it up.

“So, did you start paying attention?”

You shake your head with a small smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, sure you don’t,” Nancy chuckles.

You turn your body towards her, you lean back against the railing and look at her curiously.

Nancy crosses her legs and smokes the cigarette, giving you a tight lipped smile.

“Still oblivious, I see.”

You’re not fully oblivious. Not anymore.

“Y-You think that Eddie and I like each other.”

“No.”

You furrow your brows.

“I don’t think, I know.” She shrugs, “I guess, I just wonder why you and Eddie aren’t dating.”

You’re a little flustered by her words.

“Because he is my best friend?” You mumble as you stub out the cigarette and look down.

“Yeah, that’s what you already said, last time and it still doesn’t look like it.”

You give her a questioning look, you stare at her, and suddenly, she feels flustered.

“Why do you even care?”

Nancy hesitates, she looks down at the cigarette between her fingers. Her shoulders are slumped but she is still tense. Nancy pities Steve because she can see how much he is suffering, how much he loves you, how much he still wants you but she can’t deny that you have been in pain for so many months, some of the pain which has been caused by her. The least she can do is help you, help you understand, help you to see.

“I’m just, I’m sorry.”

She folds her hands in her lap after stubbing out the cigarette. She glances at you, almost shyly and with a hint of guilt in her blue eyes.

“What?”

She closes her eyes, she fidgets with her fingers and takes a deep breath before she opens her eyes again.

“For everything.”

Oh.

“I’m sorry for taking him away from you. I-I saw the way you two looked at each other back there. I guess, I just now realized what I’ve ruined.”

“It would’ve been someone else if it wasn’t you, Nancy.”

She furrows her brows, looking at you, almost bewildered.

“No, I don’t think so. He loves you.”

“Well, that realization came a little too late.”

“Did it?” Nancy asks, carefully.

You hesitate before you say ‘yes’.

She nods.

“But, why do you always bring Eddie up?”

“What?”

“You always talk about.. Eddie,” you frown, “do you want him now?”

The thought of it angers you. Does she always want what you have?

“Do you want Eddie now that you realized that Steve isn’t the prince you thought he was?”

Her eyes widen, “no! No, it’s not that! I-I just, I was jealous of you, not because of Eddie,” she says, shaking her head at the thought of Eddie. “I wanted what you two have.”

“A best friend?”

“That’s the thing.. I never thought you two were just… friends.”

You wait for her to continue.

“I wanted that hand holding in class, that cute bantering in the hallway, someone to lend me a shoulder whenever I need it, I wanted to be free like you were. Showing my love openly – and I found that in Jonathan. We started of as friends b-but that would have never been enough. He taught me about true love, about feeling cared for, and he waited for me. He waited and waited and I hurt him over and over by not breaking up with Steve.. Does that sound familiar?”

“Oh.”

By the look in your eyes, she knows that you begin to understand a little. Your eyes that soften when you think about him.

She opens her mouth, but she never gets to say the words she’s been meaning to say all night, because the man you have been talking about steps out. Interrupting your conversation.

Both you and Nancy turn to look at him.

He looks taken aback by the sight in front of him. He figured that you weren’t by yourself, he didn’t expect Nancy to be the one out here with you.

“Uh, can we talk y/n?” He asks, still looking between the two of you with a confused look on his face.

You and Nancy can’t help but share a look of amusement.

“Yeah, sure.”

Nancy pushes herself up with a sigh, she glances at you and gives you a small smile before she walks past Steve and walks back into the house.

Steve scratches the back of his neck, he stands there, awkwardly for a moment.

He still hasn’t told you about the break up but, he knows that you know. Everybody knows.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “are you?”

He walks towards you and you get back up on your feet, looking up at your ex boyfriend. Your ex boyfriend that you just kissed.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He asks.

You shrug, “you just kissed your ex girlfriend in front of your other ex girlfriend.”

His mouth set in a hard line before he looked away with a chuckle.

An amused huff escapes you. You try to walk around him but you trip and stumble, almost falling backwards but his large hands catch you, he wraps them around your waist and pulls you closer. This time you stumble forward, right into his chest.

He uses the opportunity to wrap his arms around you fully.

“Let’s not repeat your fall from years ago.”

You gape at him.

“Can’t you let it go?!”

His eyes crinkle with amusement.

“Fuck no, I’m not letting it go. I saved you and you panicked and pushed me down – I still have the scar on my hip from it!”

You roll your eyes, chuckling.

“What did you want to talk about?”

He doesn’t answer your question, instead, he takes your hand and leads you away from the entrance, away from the porch lights, away from the place where people can see you.

You don’t question him, you follow him, just the way you always did.

Behind the house, there is no light but the moon shining down on you. And Steve can’t help but want more of what he just had.

He whispers your name and you know, you know what he wants.

“Will you forgive me for what I’m about to do?”

“What–”

He cups your cheeks and leans down to kiss you. He needs more of what he just had.

You gasp against his lips but you so easily melt into the kiss.

And the moment you kiss him back, he wraps his arms around you and suddenly, his hands are all over you, your back, your waist, the back of your neck. He is pulling you in, closer and closer until there is no space left between the two of you.

You are kissing him. You are kissing him back. Not because of a game. You are kissing him because you want to kiss him. You want him.

His heart soars.

Everything inside of him screams in joy.

He needs you, he needs you closer and closer.

He kisses you desperately.

Your tongues meet and the kiss gets more feverish, more passionate than before. Maybe more passionate than ever.

You whimper into the kiss and he is sure that it’s enough to make his heart explode.

You kiss him just as desperately. You are needy, like him.

Warmth blossoms Steve’s chest. His heart is feeling whole for the first time in a long time.

You are both breathing heavily in between kisses. He can’t get enough of you. How could he ever get enough of you? How could he ever throw this away? How could he ever push you away?

His feelings, his emotions seem to get in the way – they seem to get in between the two of you because you can feel it, you can feel what he is thinking about.

Because you begin to feel it too. The more you open your heart to him, the more you let him in – the more it hurts. You curse at it, you curse at the pain and at the dark stain that he had left on your heart.

You savor the kiss, just like he does.

He savors it too. Your kiss isn’t a promise. Not even your love is.

He destroyed too much.

And though you don’t want it, you push him away and ignore the way you already miss him and the feeling of his lips on yours.

“W-What are you doing?” Your voice is shaky and your eyes are glossy. You look up at him with saddened eyes.

Steve’s hair is disheveled, his lips are puffy from the kissing.

And he looks defeated because the look on your face tells him that this won’t mean anything.

“I-I’m sorry.. but I-I just needed to do that, at least one last time.”

You frown at his words. Despite the seriousness of the situation, he can’t help but think that you look cute.

“You can’t just kiss me after everything!” You snap at him and push past him, walking away from him.

“Dolly!”

“No!”

next chapter

tagging mutuals

@mysticmunson @taintedcigs @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @wroteclassicaly @trashmouth-richie @succubusmunson @xxhellfirebunnyxx @take-everything-you-can @nemesis729 @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @chrissymjstan

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #stranger things angst

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impala-dreamer · 3 months ago

Text

The Beat Of Your Heart

A Supernatural Story

~ Friends become lovers who turn into the darkest evil that one can endure... ~

Dean Winchester x F!Reader; Michael!Dean x F!Reader

8,587 Words

NSFW, Fluff, Cute Banter, Friends To Lovers, There Was Only One Bed!?, All the Sex, Passionate Love, Hope, *record scratch*, Extreme Angst, Violence, NonCon, Torture, Blood, Major Character Death

For @jacklesversebingo “Friends to Enemies to Lovers” square

JacklesBingo Masterlist

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

She wasn’t bound by metal or rope. He hadn’t held her down with force or threatened her obedience with a blade. He had simply invited her to sit in the plush white armchair in front of the large wall of windows and she’d complied.

As the sky darkened over the Chicago skyline, she sat with a blank expression, utterly frozen by fear. Her legs were crossed at the ankles and she held her hands clasped in her lap. She waited for him to speak, to move, to attack- she had no idea what was coming and it terrified her more than the icy flight he’d taken her on.

Ripped off her feet in the middle of the street, he’d wrapped an arm around her middle and taken to the skies. The air was frigid; his grip unyielding. She’d hid her face from the cold, cringing into the lapels of his coat, and held on as tightly as she could.

Minutes? An hour? A Day? She had no idea how long they moved through the clouds, but it was long enough to say a prayer and beg for help.

There was no answer except his callous laughter in her ear.

“They’re not coming to save you.”

Those were the only words he’d spoken before and since.

Y/N watched as he got comfortable. He took off his cap and carefully shed his coat. The ensemble was strange and only added to the unease in her gut.

Dean would never wear something so tailored, so proper.

Michael wore it well.

He paid her no mind while walking around the posh suite. He hung his coat in the closet and placed his cap on the empty shelf above the rail. He checked his countenance in the mirror and ran a hand through his hair, setting it back in place after the long, windy flight.

Y/N let her eyes turn to the room. Despite his seeming familiarity with the area, the place seemed untouched. The bed was made with crisp corners and perfect lines. Every fiber of the white carpet was fluffed and in place; every pillow on the couch was plump. The walls were paneled in dark mahogany wood, interspersed with calming muted blue trim and highlights. Prints of black and white cities hung catty corner on the walls by the door, and dual vases of tall white orchids framed the large bed. Everything was in perfect order, fit for a celebrity in residence.

The seating area she occupied held a bar to the left and Michael busied himself there, filling two crystal glasses halfway with scotch.

He held one up to the window, letting the evening sun shine through. He turned it slowly and a tiny rainbow swept across his cheek.

She couldn’t take her eyes off of it, or him.

Michael’s eyes turned to her and narrowed. He rounded the bar and offered her the glass in his right hand. She hesitated but ultimately took it. One last drink for the doomed.

“I’ve never had a taste for alcohol,” Michael said, settling into the chair opposite her. “But Dean’s… tongue seems to enjoy it.”

She shivered at the name, at the idea that Dean was sitting there but not. That Dean’s voice was speaking to her but not. She raised her glass and mustered up the courage to go down without giving him the satisfaction of seeing her fear.

“To your health,” she toasted.

He grinned and lifted his tumbler. “To yours.”

Michael took a delicate sip, but Y/N drank hers down in three hard gulps, hoping the sting would clear her head and the alcohol would steel her nerves.

“Gluttony… How quaint.”

Michael never seemed to blink. His eyes stayed clear and focused on her face no matter how she reacted or moved.

“Yeah, well, I was thirsty.” She clung to the glass as if it were the only thing holding her together. Her fingers tensed so tightly over the intricate designs cut into the sides, she wondered if she would bleed. “So, this is your… lair or whatever?”

He laughed gently at the term. “It’s just a room.”

Y/N nodded and looked away as if scanning the decor. “You bring all your victims here?”

Michael took another drink. “Only the special ones.”

“I’m special?” Y/N managed an impressed laugh. “Well, at least I got that goin’ for me.” She went to take another sip and remembered she was out of scotch. Holding up the glass, she shook it a bit and nodded towards the bar. “You mind?”

Michael nodded slowly and Y/N managed to peel herself off the chair and walk on shaky legs to the bar.

“Do you not think you are special?” he asked, not bothering to look over his shoulder at her.

“Not at the moment, no.” Y/N unscrewed the bottle and tipped it into her glass. She drank it down quickly and refilled. Drunk was better than feeling the pain of whatever was coming.

“Dean certainly believed that you were. He… begged me not to harm you.”

His words stung her deep and she knocked back a third shot.

“Oh?”

“He’s… struggling even now.” Michael rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. “He’s screaming… beating his fists… ordering me to set you free.”

Y/N swallowed back the hurt and guilt. “Yeah, that sounds like Dean.” A fourth pour filled her glass. “He probably won’t stop, so maybe you should just vacate and go about your business in another suit.”

Michael exhaled sharply and the lights flickered. His hand opened and closed over the arm of the chair, tensing over the fabric in an attempt to calm himself.

He growled. “Come sit, Y/N.”

She grabbed the bottle and followed his command.

Michael set his unfinished scotch on the glass coffee table next to them and sat back, his spine straight, his face a cool mask of authority.

“You need to contain your… attitude.”

The sharpness in his voice forced fear to coat her skin. Goosebumps rose on her arms and chest as she sat down, pressing as far into the back of the chair as she could.

“Hard not to be sassy when you’re on your deathbed.” She hid her shaking hand by gripping the glass and taking a heavy sip. “Kinda wanna go out with a bang.”

She expected anger to follow, but Michael tipped his head to the side, curiously staring at her.

“You are special, aren’t you?” He leaned forward a bit, peering deeper into her soul.

Y/N could feel the prying gaze as if he were methodically peeling back her being layer by layer. A tightness closed around her heart and she held her breath for fear of crying out.

“Dean was right in that assertion.” Michael dipped his chin and his eyes glowed a faint blue as a trickle of his Grace seeped free. “I have no concept of physical beauty, but… your… soul is quite intriguing. Your mind…”

The intrusive feeling worked its way up to her head and Y/N felt as if her brain were swelling. A migraine-like throbbing began at her temples and she shut her eyes tight.

“...Very impressive…” He licked his lips slowly as if tasting her essence. “Not overly intelligent, but you do make up for it in… what do they say? Personality.”

She wanted to snap back with a witty dig, but the pain worsened. His Grace prodded her mind and the throbbing grew worse, spreading across her scalp and localizing between her eyes. The bottle and glass fell to the floor as she grabbed her head. The amber liquid ran free, soaking into the pure white carpet.

Pain spread like fire through a labyrinth, following the pathways between the gray matter of her brain. “S-stop!”

Impressed, Michael’s mouth turned up in a half smile, and he dug in deeper.

“The way your human brains work is so… fascinating.”

Y/N’s eyes rolled back, unable to focus. She clawed at the sides of her head, desperate to ease the pain or at least divert it.

“Electrical impulses shoot through every cell, keeping the brain alive… controlling the body… but the real you- your… soul… is in there as well.”

Nausea struck her and Y/N doubled over, dry heaving with her head between her knees. “Please! Stop…”

“What you perceive as ‘You’ is crammed up in the folds and crevices of your physical brain and yet… If I take you away… The brain still functions.”

She hit the floor with a trembling cry. The vice in her head was tightening and she was sure she’d be gone in less than a minute.

“So what good is your soul, Y/N?” he asked, falling to one knee and hovering over her. Curled in the fetal position, she had no defenses against his hand, or the Grace he pushed harder into her skull. “What are you if not a heavenly battery?” Michael traced a finger slowly down her cheek and the pain stopped.

With a gasping breath, she sat up and scrambled away. She coughed hard, blinked to clear her vision, and tried to stand. Her legs were numb, her arms practically useless. “Why are you doing this?” she asked, barely a whisper above her tears.

Michael spread his hands in a holy gesture. “Because I can. Because it’s slowly killing your lover.”

Her eyes went wide. Tears stung but she refused to look away. “Dean?”

“Yes.” Michael smiled softly. “He’s fighting me. Clawing at me.” He sighed. “He wants you safe but… I think this is more fun.”

Her stomach churned. “This is fun for you?”

He shrugged. “Not really, but it is amusing hearing him beg for your life.” Michael closed his eyes for a moment, listening to Dean plead and threaten. “So sad.”

Panting, Y/N fell forward onto her hands and knees. She was as close to him as she dared get, and she grit her teeth, hoping Dean could hear her.

“Fuck. You.”

Michael laughed.

“You pathetic excuse for an archangel.” Her body ached but she pushed on, watching the twitch in his jaw as his anger surged. “I’ve met angels. Hell, I fucked one once. But you- you are no angel…”

Electric blue flashed through his eyes and Michael sucked in a deep breath. “Are you sure you wish to continue?”

Y/N pushed herself up, rising as he did. “Oh, I am. You distorted, alternate universe, bland Xerox copy of an angel.” She swayed on her feet but defiance kept her upright even as Michael towered over her. “I’m amazed you can even possess Dean, you weak excuse for the Commander of the Holy Hosts.”

Having had enough of her, Michael lifted his left hand and sent Y/N flying back towards the window with a burst of ethereal strength. Her scream echoed through the room, covered only by the sound of glass as it shattered around her.

Pushed through the window, Y/N felt a moment of pure weightlessness before gravity took hold. Her body was pulled by the ground and she began to plummet the twenty-seven stories to the cement below.

She held her breath against the rushing wind and the sting of a million shards of glass cutting into her flesh.

She stared up into the pink dusk of sunset and said goodbye to the world, to Dean, to everything above and below.

“Holy shit!” Y/N doubled over, hands clutching her knees as she panted, amazed and out of breath from the fight. “That was insane.”

Dean rushed up behind her. His boots came into view and Y/N looked up in time to see him collapse against the Impala’s hood. He leaned back and exhaled heavily. His face was splashed in blood; the left pocket of his green canvas jacket torn by fangs.

She cringed and reached for his pocket. “Did it bite you?”

Swallowing hard, Dean shook his head and reached into the canvas. “No. Just took a chunk out of my damn phone.” He pulled the useless thing out and flashed her the screen. It was punctured by a single hole that shattered the glass in a thick web.

“Well, it’s… just a screen,” she said hopefully. “They can replace it.”

With an annoyed brow lifted, Dean flipped the device over and showed the three additional holes piercing through the phone.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

She laughed.

He rolled his eyes and shoved the ruined cell back into his pocket. “Fucking dogs.”

Y/N’s initial shock returned and her jaw dropped. “Right? Have you ever seen a pack of demon-possessed dogs before? How- What?”

Dean laughed this time. “I have not.” He scrubbed a hand down his face and pulled away a glob of fur and blood. “Ew.”

Y/N tried to politely hide the fact that she nearly gagged as he flicked the muck aside.

“You’ve got a bit…” He pointed at her throat and then gestured to his own, showing her where to search.

“Oh, come on!” She beat at the side of her neck and smacked the mess away. “So gross!”

“Could be worse.”

“How?”

Dean looked from her to the house they’d left behind and shrugged. “Yeah, I don’t know.”

Laughter trickled between them.

“I’m glad you called,” Dean said offhandedly as his gaze returned to her. “I’d hate to hear through the grapevine that you’d been ripped to shreds by a pack of wild purebreds.”

Y/N ran a hand over her hair and tugged at her ponytail, tightening the elastic. “I’m so confused. Why purebred poodles? Why?”

Dean shook his head and bit his lip, just as confused. “Wish I could tell you I understood this shit. I don’t. I just kill it.”

She let out a heavy breath and lay a hand on her chest. “Fuck, my heart is beating so fast!” Amazed, she took a step closer to Dean. “Feel it-” Taking his hand, she covered her heart.

He could feel it pounding, racing to restore blood flow to the proper areas while her muscles relaxed. “Damn…”

He didn’t move to pull back and she didn’t cringe. They stood in the newborn quiet for a moment, just enjoying the fact that they were alive and the problem had been solved.

When awkward struck hard, Dean smiled shyly and took a step back.

Y/N coughed a bit under her breath and looked away.

He cleared his throat.

“So, yeah-”

“You wanna-”

He froze. “I’m sorry?”

She laughed. “I was just gonna ask if you wanted to go grab some food. I’m strangely starving.”

Dean exhaled away a breath of worry and licked his lip. “As long as you’re buyin’ I’m eatin’.” He fished the car keys from his pocket and walked around to the driver’s side.

“Me?” Y/N followed to the car, yanking open the passenger door with a loud creak of metal on metal. “I saved your life in there, man. I think you owe me.”

He paused with one foot in the car and squinted over the roof. “Who saved who now?”

“I saved you,” she said again, hopping in. “That hair-bowed bitch had you by the short an’ curlies before I got to you.”

The leather crackled under his weight and the door eeked shut. “I had it under control.”

“Sure you did.”

He turned the key and shot her a look over his shoulder as she settled into the seat. She was sassy and cute, and only slightly annoying. He liked hanging out with her, so he’d give her this one.

“Well…” The engine roared to life and he cranked it into gear. “Thanks.”

Y/N rolled down the window and took a breath of fresh air. A smile lit her lips and she sighed happily. He was fun. Annoying and stupid at times, but brave and kind. She liked being around him, so she decided not to push it too far. But a little never hurt anybody.

“You can thank me with extra cheese.”

Dean laughed. “Deal.”

Y/N woke with a gasping scream, finding herself safe on the plush mattress and not splattered like a bug on the Chicago pavement.

Michael was nearby, tinkering with something on the dresser by the foot of the bed.

She cleared her throat and felt each rip her screams had caused. “What happened?”

Michael turned his head, slowly looking over his shoulder at her. “You were angering me, so I stopped you.”

Her heart was racing, terror pulsing through her limbs. She sat up against the pillows. “You- You pushed me out of the fucking window!”

The glass-less window showed her the truth, letting in cold streams of air and the faint sounds of traffic below.

“I did warn you.”

The icy air hit her skin and Y/N looked down to see that she was naked. A hundred tiny cuts marred her arms and neck, but they no longer bled. Michael had healed them enough to keep her alive. He’d saved her from being crushed by gravity and concrete, but for what?

Y/N hugged her chest and crossed her legs, hiding her body as best she could.

“Why did you save me?” she asked, calmer yet trembling.

Michael turned around and she saw that his clothing had been reduced to a simple white t-shirt and plain white boxers. She shivered at the sight. Dean’s broad shoulders, muscular arms, thick thighs- but it was wrong. So wrong.

“I wasn’t finished with you,” he replied simply. “I’m not through… examining you.”

Her stomach flipped. “Examining me?”

“Studying… observing… experimenting.”

The word dried her mouth, tugged at her heart, flashed horrific scenes behind her eyes. “What- what are you going to do to me?”

A bit of metal flashed in his hand as he approached. He held the scalpel tight between two fingers and knelt on the bed. The mattress dipped beneath his weight and Y/N cowered higher up against the padded headboard.

“I’ve looked into your mind, Y/N.”

He came closer and fear blurred her vision.

“I’ve tasted your soul.”

Unexpectedly, he reached over and set the blade down on the nightstand. Y/N held her breath as he bridged over her body, refusing to sully the memory of Dean’s scent.

“Now I want to know the rest of you.”

Her brow furrowed with question but it was soon answered. Michael lay his palm against her cheek and Y/N shivered at the cool touch. Slowly, he dragged his fingers down to grip her chin and lift it upward.

“I want to know… why Dean thinks you are so… incredible that he’s willing to trade his life… for yours.”

She shook her head. “He wouldn’t.”

Michael grinned devilishly and pressed his lips to hers.

The intimacy was torture.

She remembered the push of Dean’s lips, every line of his chapped skin, the rhythm, the taste. Michael’s kiss was different. There was no swift breath escaping to float across her cheek; no desperate pressure behind it, no hunger. It was clinical, as if Michael had studied a textbook explaining the basic mechanics of the act.

When he pulled back, he cocked his head and peered down at Y/N as if she had done something wrong.

“It’s… rather… pointless, isn’t it?” he asked.

Y/N stiffened and tried to squirm away, but Michael placed a heavy hand on her stomach, halting any movement.

“What is?”

“Kissing,” he clarified. “It’s crude and unsanitary.”

She couldn’t help but laugh under her breath. “If you think that’s unsanitary, you should try oral.”

His eyes widened with the sparkling idea and Y/N shook her head quickly.

“No. No. It was… just a joke. You’re so right. Kissing is disgusting. I hate it. I hate kissing.”

“Dean recalls that you enjoyed it.” He bent down again, this time letting his breath coast across her lips. “He has many memories of your body, your… lips… the way you kissed him. He appeared to savor it.”

Again, he kissed her. This time, he drew from the memories he had stolen from his host, and the kiss was warmer, deeper. She shuddered when his tongue pushed through her lips, cringed when he licked the roof of her mouth. She wouldn’t engage, refusing to kiss him back. When he wouldn’t relent, she shoved at his chest and he pulled back, eyes bright with rage.

“Did you not learn from your skydive earlier?” He grabbed the offending hand and twisted her wrist. The bone cracked and Y/N screamed as he shoved her arm into the pillow by her head. “Do not resist me.”

Pain splintered up her arm and heat swelled around her wrist. She had felt worse before, but it had never been his hands, never been his face.

“Please…”

She cried through a heavy sob but Michael was unmoved by her pain.

Continuing his investigation, Michael licked at her lips once more. His lips trailed across her jaw and settled on her throat. “You will not fight me,” he warned. He pressed his lips against her pulse and closed his eyes, listening to the artery work. “You will submit.”

Y/N’s skin crawled and rebellion raged inside her. Dean wouldn’t want her to lay there helplessly whimpering. He’d tell her to fight no matter what.

“If you gotta go, go down swinging.”

She took a breath and brought her knee up as fast and hard as she could, jamming it into his crotch.

The angel fell back, not in pain, but surprise.

He straightened up and grit his teeth, seething. The lights flickered and Y/N braced herself for whatever punishment she had coming.

Instead of widespread pain doled out by invisible force, Michael balled his fist and swung at her. Unprepared, Y/N didn’t even attempt to move out of the way, and his knuckles sunk into her cheek.

Another jolt of pain, another snapped bone. She screamed behind the hand he closed over her mouth.

Leaning back down, Michael inched close to her face, green eyes twitching over the skin, watching as the blood vessels ruptured and oozed beneath the surface.

“Miraculous…”

It wasn’t just the pain, she could handle that.

It was the way his eyes ticked over her face. The eyes that she loved, now utterly corrupted.

It was the way his knuckles broke through her bones. The knuckles she had so often kissed, now brought devastation.

It was the way his face contorted with clinical interest; the way words fell from familiar lips with otherworldly cadence. The voice she had loved her whole life, the lips she had kissed a thousand times, the face she dreamt of every night: it was infected with all the evil that Heaven could produce.

Sick with pain, but flooded with spirited, dumb courage, Y/N pulled back her lips and sank her teeth into Michael’s palm.

The punishment was severe.

Another broken bone, another prodding investigation as the welt blossomed on her nose and her right eye sealed shut.

“You will behave.”

Out of hope, Y/N agreed. “Yes. I’m- I’m sorry. I’ll behave!” Her voice sounded foreign, so defeated and raspy she barely recognized herself.

Michael’s eyes glowed a bright, piercing blue. “I know you will.”

She felt it again, that startling and somehow arousing burst of sensation as his Grace flowed into her. It worked on her instantly: stretching her arms out across the bed and spreading her legs wide. It locked her head in place and pulled her jaw slack. Not a muscle could move by her will, not a sound could be made except the quick, panting breaths that left her lips.

She was frozen, held captive by his heavenly magic.

Her eyes filled with tears as he straddled her hips, making himself more comfortable now that she was agreeable.

The blue faded back to green, but the Grace stayed inside of her, holding her still. Without her resistance, Michael was free to inspect every inch of her body, inside and out.

He reveled at the length and thickness of her eyelashes, plucking one from each open lid and tested them against each other.

He pulled her lips further apart and ran his fingers through her mouth, feeling each minuscule bump on her tongue, the cut of each tooth, the strands of muscles lining her throat.

Horror flashed through her eyes, unable to swallow or gag as he forced his hand deeper down her esophagus. With the passage obstructed, her breathing became heavy and labored. Her heart struggled and Michael counted each tick of the muscle.

“So… intricate.” His wet fingers traced her collarbone. “So mechanical, every bit of you.” Scooting down, Michael set his sights on her chest. He ran his palm across her right breast and marveled as her nipple hardened at his chilly touch. “Humans truly are works of art…” He toyed with it, pinching and flicking, tugging hard and rolling gently.

Y/N couldn’t shy away or even close her eyes as his unwanted touch continued.

Fascinated, Michael swirled his tongue over her nipple. Her skin warmed and he felt the faint increase in temperature. Moving to the left side, he bit down on her tit and watched as blood met the indentation. He groped both breasts, kneading and pinching like he’d seen Dean do in his memories.

Y/N couldn’t help the automatic flush of her body or the way her pussy throbbed and leaked. She could only pray that he wouldn’t notice, that he wouldn’t understand.

Michael felt everything. He heard the blood as it rushed to her sex, smelled the arousal, and sensed her heat rise.

“I have watched humans for eons… but never have I observed a body so… closely.”

Her eyes burned. She screamed inside.

Michael slid a hand down her body and pressed it flat between her thighs.

If she could have moved, she would have fought. She would have raged and kicked and thrashed at him. She would have fought until her body gave out and she had no choice but to jump through the broken window. She would have fallen happily.

His touch was worse than death.

The wetness he touched made his eyes widen and his lips curl into a rapt smile. He dipped his fingers into her cunt, pulling out the warm slick and examining it closely.

“How… wondrous.”

Falling down, Michael jabbed his tongue between her folds and lapped at her hole, sucking the wetness and swallowing it down. His angelic mind calculated every molecule, sorting out cells and mapping its creation. As he licked, he saw her pussy respond. Blood filled her clit, making it hard. The skin of her lips darkened. He watched the muscles clench and heard the blood pump.

“Blood… is everything, isn’t it?” He floated back up to look into her paralyzed face. “It is in every part of you, controlling your muscles, allowing your mind to churn, your cunt to ache. It’s… the perfect fluid.”

Y/N prayed for release. She called to Castiel, to Gabriel, to any and every angel she’d ever met and those whose names she’d only read on the thin pages of her father’s bible.

Michael wiped a tear from her cheek. “They cannot help you, Y/N.”

She called to Rowena; she screamed for Jack.

“No one can hear your prayers. You’re with me and I am hidden from all.”

He held her gaze, listening to her thoughts. In one final, pathetic attempt for help, she cried for Dean. If he was in there, if Michael could see Dean’s memory, then maybe Dean could see through his eyes.

Help me…

Michael laughed softly and kissed her forehead. “Nice try.”

Her heart beat against its cage, thrumming faster and harder as she realized there was no end to the torture and no cavalry on its way to save her.

Distracted by the pounding beat, Michael dropped his hand to her chest, covering her heart. He closed his eyes and felt each thump, heard the valves opening and closing, allowing the sacred wine to flow through.

“Blood…” he whispered, entranced by the rhythmic palpitations. “Each beat keeping you alive… and for what?”

“I’m so glad you called, Dean. It’s really nice to see you.”

Her whisper invaded his senses, making him temporarily forget that they were trapped in a closet together with death tiptoeing beyond the door. Dean held his breath when she looked up at him. In the dark, she looked so small and delicate, like a thing he needed to cradle and protect. The light streaming in through the seams of the door struck her face in the most beautiful ways, highlighting the curl of her lashes and the turn of her upper lip. She pressed in closer, simply trying to readjust herself in the cramped space, and Dean found himself against a rock and a soft place. His blood surged south and he had to shake the idea away lest she feel it too.

He cleared his throat gently and stood up straighter, hoping to give himself an inch or seven. “Yeah, well, you could have ignored the call.”

She let out a faint laugh. “I could have. But then where would we be?”

“Not hiding in this closet, that’s for sure.”

Y/N bit her lip and stared up at him as he squirmed. The light was hitting his chin and the long line of his neck. She could see the hint of a scar by his ear and the shadow of a beard creeping up. He looked so big like this. So broad and muscular, safe. She swallowed hard and prayed he couldn’t feel how hot she suddenly was.

“Jokes aside,” she whispered. “I am glad. I missed you.”

Her smile was soft and he wanted to press the tips of his fingers to her lips and feel the pull.

“Me too…”

Realization struck them both like lightning and for the first time in years, they were on the same page. Attraction hit like a tidal wave and they both jerked back as far as they could, taking to the tiny corners of the dusty old closet in the back of that long hall in that big house on a hill in Tannersville.

“Um… Dean?”

He breathed in deeply, instantly regretting it as the sweet perfume of her shampoo flooded his brain and made his mouth water. “Yeah?”

“I was thinking, maybe- I mean if we ever get outta here-”

An inconvenient fact reared its face and broke the moment. The witch they were dealing with threw something against a wall nearby and the closet shook. Her wretched screech echoed through the darkness and Dean jumped, pressing one hand to his ear and the other to his gun.

“How ‘bout we, uh- put a pin in this. Yeah?”

Y/N winced at the sharp pitch of the witch’s scream and nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Murder first, chat later. Gotcha!”

“Hey, it’s not murder if she’s an evil bitch.”

“Let’s debate semantics later, shall we?” Y/N gripped her blade tight.

He grinned and reached for the doorknob. “After you…”

“Such a gentleman.”

“Always.”

The witch went down with more than a bit of a fight and the friends were too tired later for anything more than a drive-thru burger and a side of aspirin.

They stuffed their faces with grease and questionable meat; washed it all down with a few warm beers.

Dean managed to somehow smear ketchup on his ear and Y/N wiped it clear with the only remaining clean napkin.

Y/N burped so loud that it shook the bed and sent Dean into an impressive fit of laughter.

They took turns showering, and when Y/N was done, she found Dean setting up the couch like a bed, spreading out a spare blanket, and beating a pillow into submission.

She rubbed her hair with the shitty motel towel while watching him. He was down to a single layer of light blue boxers and a tight black tee. His hair was still damp from the shower and spiked up on the top like an early 2000s flashback. She stared a bit too long and was startled when he turned around.

“Have enough hot water?” he asked.

Y/N shrugged. “You didn’t quite use all of it. Most. But not all.”

He grinned and let his eyes fall down her body. She was ready for bed- braless in a purple tank top and loose cotton shorts. She flipped the wet towel onto the floor and Dean realized he was staring too much.

“You sure you don’t wanna get another room?” she asked, moving over to the bed and tugging the sheet down. “You shouldn’t have to sleep on the couch.”

A dangerous idea sparked in his brain, but he pushed it away. Sure, he could insist on sharing the bed, but there was a line he was too afraid to cross. They’d been friends for so long, sharing thoughts and dreams over text messages. There had been hundreds of video calls late at night when the world was crashing down around them; casual meet-ups when monsters brought them to the same part of the country. Despite how he felt, she’d never given him a hint, so he kept his feelings to himself.

If he shared the bed, he knew he’d try something.

If he tried something, she’d have to respond.

If she rejected him- well, he wasn’t ready to ruin a friendship over a shitty motel room with only one bed.

“Nah,” he replied, turning back to the sofa. “I’ve slept on worse.”

Y/N shrugged as if she didn’t care where he slept, but inside she crumbled a bit. It was dumb to assume he’d want to share a bed with her, but she had hoped he might. Hope wasn’t a bad thing, just an annoying inconvenience that generally left her unsatisfied and listless. Hope kept her dreaming that someday he’d finally recognize the chemistry between them. Dreams made her long for his touch, praying that he’d rush at her, scoop her into his big arms, and kiss her so hard the whole world would fade away. Sure, she could make the first move but rejection was worse than hope.

“Cool.”

Dean hung his head. “Cool.”

Sleep was a lofty goal that neither could achieve.

The alarm clock on the nightstand was buzzing slightly as if electricity was leaking out of it and sizzling in the air. Y/N tried to ignore it, but the irritation kept her from shutting her brain off.

She rolled onto her left side and tucked the blanket between her legs. In the darkness, she could see Dean stretched out on the sofa. He was facing the door but she could make his perfect profile in the shadows. One hand was tucked beneath his head and the other rested on his stomach. Y/N watched it rise and fall with each breath, wondering what he was dreaming about.

She sighed and he shifted a bit, readjusting his hips.

Her exhale rang in his ears and Dean chewed his bottom lip as he stared at the ceiling. He’d fallen asleep twice, but each time his imagination pushed him awake. He wasn’t sure if it was a dream or his mind running wild, but he saw Y/N lying in his arms, face shimmering and lips wet. He felt her legs quake as he tasted her sweetness. Each time, he’d wake up with an aching cock and unrequited desire.

He huffed gently and she sat up on her elbow.

“You up?” she whispered, squinting at his silhouette.

Dean smiled to himself and waved at her over his head. “Why are you?”

“Dunno. Brain won’t shut up.” She threw back the blanket and the bed creaked as she swung her legs over the side. “Why are you?”

“Same.” He scrubbed a hand down his face and scratched at the tiny hairs on his jaw. “You wanna get a dr-”

Y/N was at his side before he knew it, biting her lip innocently as she knelt on the sofa.

His eyes went wide and he sat up a bit. “Hi.”

She smiled. “Hi.”

Without asking, she turned and moved to lay down beside him. Dean shifted, pressing himself into the back of the couch to give her room.

“This OK?” she asked, already settling down.

Dean cleared his throat. “Uh. Yeah…”

She grabbed his hand and tugged his arm to fit around the curve of her waist.

“And this?”

He lay down and curled up behind her. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

It took a moment for their bodies to relax, for their brains to interpret the closeness or register the meaning. Y/N nearly kicked herself for taking such a chance, but when she felt Dean relax against her back, she smiled. He pressed his face into her hair and took a breath, nearly moaning when he exhaled.

Y/N rolled her ass back just an inch, but it was enough to set him on fire. His mind was racing with a thousand imagined scenarios, all ending with her brilliant smile and his name on her lips. His fingers tensed on her stomach and she let out a tiny whimper.

Slowly, Dean dared to press his cheek against her ear. His hand moved up a fraction of an inch and Y/N dragged a finger across it, caressing his hand and up his arm.

He kissed her cheek.

She threaded her fingers into his.

He breathed hot against her ear.

She dragged his hand up her stomach, leading him up higher.

He sucked her earlobe between his lips.

She shivered and closed his palm over her breast.

He moaned.

She twisted her neck and found his lips, breaking their friendship with a deep kiss.

Dean licked into her mouth and his blood boiled, pushing every sensation into hyperdrive. Her lips felt like heaven, her touch was like fire. He palmed her tit, rolled her nipple gently, nibbled on her ear.

Y/N melted for him. Her body went soft and pliable; her pussy dripped, her breath grew heavy and fast. She could feel how hard he was, pressing into her ass. She snuck a hand between them and rubbed at the tip of his cock.

Dean hissed and groped her tits a little harder.

Her fingers snuck into his boxers and she traced a gentle line down his shaft, teasing him. He pinched her nipple hard and her gasping moan filled the room.

“Fuck, Y/N…”

Her fingers closed around his thick cock and she arched her back, laying her throat bare for him.

“You know,” she whispered, “the bed is bigger…”

Dean turned his wrist and dragged his hand down to her shorts, gently teasing at the elastic hem. “True, but then we wouldn’t be so close.” He kissed her neck.

Her jaw dropped when his warm hand slid down, covering her pussy with light pressure. “Good point.”

She stroked him slowly as he rubbed her cunt. He licked at her pulse while she caressed his sack.

When his breath grew hot and fast, Y/N spun around and attacked his lips. She held his face in her hands and pushed every late-night dream, every lonely fantasy into her kiss. She wanted him to feel it. Wanted him to know how long she’d waited to touch him like this; how desperate she’d been to feel his hands on her.

Dean tried to keep his eyes open, wanting to remember every second and sear it all into his memory, but her lips tugged them closed. Her kiss was so deep, so devastatingly perfect that he couldn’t hold on. His will vanished in a rush of lust and he grabbed at her soft flesh, plucked at her sensitive spots, rolled his hips against her wetness.

“God, I wanna fuck you so bad,” he groaned, fingers digging into her ass while she bit down on his shoulder.

Y/N hummed and licked at the bite marks she’d left. “Me too. Fuck, Dean…”

He pulled her closer and she sat up, straddling his hips as she pulled her tank top off. Dean gripped her hips and stared in awe at her beautiful body writing above him. She rocked down onto him and he had never hated cotton so much. The layers between them prevented his cock from sliding in, but Y/N didn’t seem to mind. She rubbed her slick cunt up and down his shaft, driving them both insane.

When he couldn’t take it anymore, Dean sat up and wrapped his arm around her back, holding her tight. He tried to stand but stumbled and Y/N laughed softly while fumbling for balance.

They made it to the bed without injury; shed their clothes without hesitation.

Dean pushed her onto her back and licked deep into her mouth. She moaned into him and scratched a hand through his hair. Her legs spread wide for him and Dean kissed his way down her body. She held her breath when his lips pressed into the softness of her inner thigh.

“Always wanted to taste you,” he breathed, running the tip of his middle finger down her slit.

Y/N’s legs shook and her fingers tensed over his scalp. “Please…”

Dean smiled and exhaled gently while slipping his finger into her. She was wet and warm and he hummed darkly.

“So fucking beautiful…”

His tongue pressed flat over her pussy and then slid inside, swirling around her clit like a spiral that entranced her body and mind. Y/N squirmed against his mouth, held her breath when the pleasure spiked, tugged on his hair. It was as if her dreams were seeping into reality and God was answering every blasphemous prayer.

Dean was ravenous, licking her hard and pushing his fingers deeper with each thrust of his wrist. He closed his eyes and listened to the hitch of her breath, the exquisite moans she set free. Every pulse of her cunt on his fingers made his cock twitch. Every buck of her hips made him suckle harder. He wanted to drown in her juices, happy to let this be his last act on earth.

She came hard and fast, leaking pleasure onto his tongue.

Dean pushed back enough to see her face. He kept his hand in place, fucking her through the throbbing orgasm even as she tried to push him away.

“Dean… please…”

Her brows creased and her lips pushed out in a pout that nearly broke his heart. He floated up to her, climbing up the mattress and shifting his right thigh between hers. She pressed down on the thick muscle and rocked hard as he kissed her again. She tasted herself on his lips and moaned.

“You’re amazing…”

Dean’s heart raced at the whispered praise and he kissed across her jaw and down, lapping at her throat and sucking a tiny mark on her shoulder. She scratched a hand down his back and grabbed his ass, tugging him forward. He fell down, his full weight crushing her into the bed.

Y/N wrapped herself around him, arms and legs holding on tight. With every bit of strength she could muster, she rolled him onto his back and popped up, sitting on his stomach.

Wide green eyes fell down her body, soaking in the perfect view.

With the tables turned, Y/N followed his previous trek, laying kisses down the length of his torso and biting his inner thigh. Dean jumped at the sting and then relaxed into nothingness as she licked the head of his cock.

She kissed and hummed at the peak of him and a drop of precum zinged her taste buds. Enthused, she took him in until she gagged and then pulled back with tightly sealed lips.

Dean let out a moan that she’d remember until the day she died. His big hand fit against the top of her head, gently guiding her up and down until he was curling in on himself and fighting to hold back.

“Fuck, Y/N/N… Ya... ya gotta stop or I’m done…”

She retreated with a loud pop of her swollen lips and Dean reached for her face. He dragged her up and kissed her hard while rolling her back onto the pillow.

“Want you, Dean…”

He hummed and shifted between her legs. “Yeah?”

She nodded quickly and clung to his broad shoulders. “Yes. So fucking bad…”

He nudged at her cunt, dipping his cock in only an inch. She shuddered and her nails sunk into his arms.

“You OK?” he asked, watching her eyes flutter and her mouth go slack.

Again, she nodded; her face washed in frustrated agony. “Please…”

He kissed her gently and then set his arms aside her head.

When he pushed fully in, they both stopped. Time froze around them and for a long moment, there was nothing else in the world. She could feel him trembling and lay her hand on his cheek. He turned towards her hand and kissed her palm.

There was no banter, no salacious teasing, no further begging. Dean fucked her slowly, taking his time to wind her pleasure back up to the highest point before they both gave in, breaking in each other’s arms and stealing the air from the rest of the world.

When his pulse steadied, Dean rolled onto his side and held his head in his hand. He couldn’t stop looking at her, couldn’t stop smiling.

Y/N felt a wave of shyness as he stared but it was the good kind. She wanted him to keep watching. She reached for his free hand and brought it to her lips, carefully kissing the pads of each finger.

He sighed happily. “You know… I really think… I mean…” His stomach flipped with nerves and he bit his lip, holding back everything he needed to say.

She laughed gently. “What?” She kissed his middle finger again.

He took a deep breath. “I think I could really fall for you.”

A soft smile turned her lips. “I’m pretty sure you already have.”

His cheeks burned. His soul felt at ease. Dean laid his hand over her heart and felt the steady beat.

“I’m pretty sure you’re right…”

Y/N felt each swipe of the scalpel, every drop of blood that leaked from the wounds. Locked and awake inside her immoble body, she tried to think of other things, to keep her mind away from the torture. She called up old dreams, sacred poems, and blissful moments with Dean.

Whenever she drifted, Michael pulled her back.

He kissed her again and again, breathing more Grace into her body to keep her alive. The deeper he cut, the harder his magic worked. The wounds lay open and he dipped his fingers or tongue inside, learning her flesh, tasting, feeling everything.

His expression was crazed but childlike. He truly wished to understand everything about her, to figure out why she was so important, why God loved his pathetic creations more than his firstborn sons.

Most of all, he marveled over her heart. He listened closely to the flow of blood, trying different techniques to make it quicken or slow. If he stopped her breathing, her heart would race and then halt. If he cut an artery, it would slowly pump her life force out onto the crisp white sheets, staining the bedding in deep crimson. If he stimulated her sex, it would race and skip, meeting his touch.

Twice, he’d killed her only to bring her back. He wanted to hear the absolute death of her heart and before kicking it back into motion.

Y/N remembered every second, felt the pull of his Grace waking her back up. She had long ago given up on prayer, and sank into the pain, letting it consume her soul. She deserved to bleed. She couldn’t save Dean, couldn’t help him in any way. She deserved the torment.

“Human skin is so… delicate,” Michael mused, running the razor edge down the length of her chest, splitting the flesh wide. “So… easily broken…” Again, he dragged the blade through her, deepening the gash until he saw a peek of white bone. “Like your hearts.”

Y/N screamed as intense pain shot through every bit of her.

Michael pushed the bleeding meat aside and exposed her ribcage.

She felt every touch and her vision faded. Consciousness was slipping away and she welcomed the darkness like an old friend.

“No, no, Y/N,” he whispered, laying a hand on her cheek. “Stay with me.”

Grace jolted her awake and she cursed him with everything she had. He heard her silent blasphemy and smiled.

“Don’t you understand? You’re doing a good thing. You’re helping me.”

Digging into her chest, Michael wrapped two fingers between the fourth rib on each side.

“You’re teaching me.”

He pulled his hands apart and her sternum splintered. The cage tore open and Y/N felt the terrifying sensation of cool air on her lungs.

“You’re teaching Dean that I will always win.”

He ignored her screams and pressed his fingers to her exposed heart, observing the blood pumping from the source.

“No matter how he screams, how he… begs, claws, fights… I will always win.”

On a whim, Michael shifted to sit between her legs. Watching her heart, he pulled his cock free and tapped her clit with the tip.

Y/N struggled to break the spell, to move, to scream, but there was no escape. Her fate was sealed.

“Interesting…”

The muscle pumped faster. Michael narrowed his gaze on the aorta and slipped his stiff cock into her vagina. Blood moved quicker, the aorta swelled, the beats quickened. He grinned.

“How exquisite.”

The faster he fucked her, the harder her heart beat. He watched like a scientist, tracking individual blood cells as they moved through her system, rushing through the expansive highway of veins to visit every part of her body. When they returned to the heart, he chose another part to focus on until he had learned all that he could.

There wasn’t much left of her mind, only a fading memory of her first kiss with Dean. That single, exhilarating instance when friends became more, and this vile moment was far, far away.

Michael knelt between her thighs and straightened up, fully filling Dean’s impressive form. He looked deep into Y/N’s frozen face and felt a surge of pride and understanding.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

Inside, Dean was fighting. He tore at his cell, screamed and cursed until his throat filled with blood and then started all over again.

Michael leaned close and kissed her lips, retrieving his Grace and setting her free.

Her shrieks shook the room, but Michael had no pity for her. She was simply a thing to him now. A toy made of cells and air and blood.

He snapped his fingers and her neck, finally giving her peace.

Dean had seen every moment, felt his hands digging into her chest cavity, tasted her blood on his lips.

Insane with grief and enraged beyond what he could truly feel, he let out a surge of strength that tickled Michael’s insides.

“Calm down, Dean. It’s over.”

You fucking monster!

“Now, now… Relax.”

I’m going to kill you. I’m going to rip you apart.

Michael wiped the blade clean on the ruined bedsheet and smiled.

“Good luck.”

#jacklesversebingo23 #dean winchester x reader #dark fic #michael!Dean x reader #angst #spn fanfiction

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