Tag: spn

In My Dreams (10)

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

(Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9)

It all started in your dreams months ago. Looking at Gabriel now, you can’t help but think back to your old, naive life. Thinking about it was like reminiscing on a vacation you’d seen in a movie.

As you watched Gabriel’s mouth move and the apologies spilled out like a waterfall, you can’t help your focus shifting. The words hit your ear but don’t register in your mind. You notice the way his lips open and it reminds you of when he’d used to tell dumb jokes that had you laughing all day.

His eyes twitch amusedly, his eyebrow quirking up.

You narrow yours, puzzled.

“Are you listening to anything I’m saying?”

These were the first words you’d heard come out of his mouth in the last few minutes of your daydreaming.

You press your lips together, humming a low note under your breath.

“Not really,” you shrug.

The whole thing seems pointless to you. Anger, lying, betrayal, they all had nothing against pure joy. The world was so messed up and for what reason?

Gabriel had only wanted you safe, and despite his deceit, you feel a wave of nostalgia wash over you. Fighting and holding grudges were just too exhausting any more.

Gabriel’s features turn softer and less mischievous. His mouth opens again as you try focusing on the words.

“I really am sorry, Y/n,” the sentence falls from his lips with such self-hatred and resentment that it’s hard to not apologize yourself.

“I know,” you whisper, catching a glimpse of the glimmering wetness in his eyes.

Gabriel glances up from the floor to you. He was afraid, you could tell. Afraid of your anger, afraid of not being able to fix his wrongs, afraid of losing you.

“Still love me?” He grins slightly, mouth twitching upwards.

The next few moments are torturous for both of you. Gabriel not knowing your answer, despite his outward wavering confidence. And you, wondering whether to let his one mistake decide both of your lives.

You feel the deep pressure of your heart pumping throughout your body. The steady beat calms you and gives you a moment of clarity.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling Gabriel’s torso into yours. You press your forehead against his, wiping away a stray tear that falls down his cheek with your thumb.

Gabriel’s bright golden orbs gaze into yours. He’s shaking, if only a little bit, from worry.

“I’ll always love you, doofus,” you mumble, feeling the breath of Gabriel’s sharp exhale on your face.

You grin, moving your head so that your chin is leaning on his shoulder, hugging him properly.

His weight shifts as you press into him; he’s holding you steady, his hands firmly planted on your waist.

Gabriel made his mistakes, and both of you knew that. All that mattered now was now.

Your past, though altered and rearranged, did not define you. And Gabriel’s didn’t define his, either.

–

@sumara62 @just-a-touch-of-crowley @tricksterxangel @fandom-queen-of-the-world @captainannamerica @amyapathetic @emilyymichelle @dustycelt @the-latina-trickster @multifandom-sloth @thinkwritexpress-official @person-born-winchester @ourloveisforthelovely @wrenrun @a-michellerae-things @thewhiterabbit42 @archangelgabriellives @nobodys-baby-now @babypieandwhiskey-library @killerunicorn3 @shewhosindebt @becausefeelsthatswhy @blinded-by-forest-sunlight @wontlookaway @goodangelgabriel @cuddleskitty @cosettewinchester

Sin or Virtue

Hi! I wish you would write a fic where the reader is an immortal being who befriends and protects the Winchesters…even going toe to toe with Billie the reaper at one point.

Requested by anonymous

–

If archangels couldn’t be killed and had no celestial powers, they’d be the equivalent of you.

That’s right, an immortal-being.

You’d been around since God first created humans, and you would be until the end of humans. Adam and Eve were always said to be the first, but religion got that wrong.

You were the first human made.

Your lifespan was eternal and God couldn’t have all humans like that, not with the size of Earth and the ability to reproduce. So he perfected his formula based on the first mistake he made.

You became close friends with the angels, and archangels especially. They took you under their actual wings even though you lacked them.

Life was perfect for the angels, humans, and you. But God didn’t think so.

Soon after God created humans, he created monsters.

At that time, you had left the safety of your angelic friends to live a normal life, but instead found yourself facing the dangers of God’s newest creations.

For a while, the creatures wreaked havoc on humanity.

As the first monsters roamed the planet all those years ago, you knew what you had to do.

You became the first hunter.

–

It felt like millenia ago, those times, which they probably were. You never kept track anymore. Time moved by quickly for you, and your immortailty only brought pain.

Many reapers tried for your life, and many demons tried for your soul.

None succeeded.

You invented the art of hunting. You kept lists of new hunters and even aided them, although they had no idea who they were working with.

That was the rule you lived by; help them, but don’t get close enough for them to learn who you are.

That rule certainly changed once you met the Winchesters. You never thought you’d get attached.

If you heard yourself say that now, you’d laugh in your own face.

Sam and Dean became your friends, almost brothers to you. You lived under their roof without any complications.

That was until Castiel showed up.

Of course you knew him. You always used to mess with him, aided by Gabriel, up in Heaven.

But now he was here. And your secret was soon to be out. What would the boys think?

Ho, Ho, the Mistletoe

@just-a-touch-of-crowley @wayward-mirage @tricksterxangel @fandom-queen-of-the-world @captainannamerica @amyapathetic @crowley-you-sinnamon-roll @emilyymichelle @dustycelt

“Oh, Y/n!!” Gabriel called, smirking as he waited for you.

You huffed a few choice words before searching for the winged man.

“Gabriel, I swear to your Father, this better be important.”

You step into the living room, only to find the snarky archangel standing there holding a small piece of mistletoe above his head.

“Hey, sugar,” he drawls out, winking flirtatiously.

You grin at his cheesy nature and roll your eyes.

“What could you possibly want, Gabriel?”

He quickly teleports in front of you, gently swaying the mistletoe over you and leaning down to press his lips to yours.

You smile into the kiss, reaching up to snatch the plant while his hands fall to your hips and pull your body closer. With a smirk, you break away from him and bring the mistletoe down below the waistband of your jeans.

Gabriel’s eyes slowly trail down your body as he smirks.

“Merry Christmas to me.”