The Place For Masters

Relationships: Gabriel/Meg Masters Characters: Gabriel (Supernatural), Meg Masters Additional Tags: Prompt Fic, Fix-it fic, Alternate Universe, LITERALLY, We Died!, Then We Got Better! Written for @petrichoravellichor 

Summary:

Prepare for trouble.

Make it double.

Gabriel.

Meg.

–

“So what do you think?” Gabriel asked.

The demon beside him had her fingers stuck in her jeans, a serpentine swagger to her hips and walk as they made their way through the park.

Tossing her head, Meg’s dark eyes slid around, taking in their new surroundings, the people feeding ducks, kids chasing each other around in a game of tag. “It’s Earth,” she commented dryly. “Just not the one we remember.”

He scoffed and waved a hand. “Yeah, but it’s not that different. It’s Earth, but, like… Earth Adjacent. An alternate universe where everything’s the same except they don’t have the color purple–”

“I like the color purple.”

His head dropped back. “It’s an example. Obviously, they have the color purple, what reality doesn’t have the color purple, but they might not have… I don’t know, blueberry Pop-Tarts. Or Pop-Tarts, at all.” He gestured with his hands, holding them in one spot, then moving them to another. “So, it’s the same, but different.”

This is perfect!!! Megriel crew, ASSEMBLE!!! 

Welp, this went from six sentences to *checks word count* a little over 1,200 words faster than I thought it would. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(Also…assume this takes place at some vague point in an alternate canonverse in which Meg 2.0 and Gabriel are known to be alive at the same time. Cool? Cool.)

Rating: M

Relationship: Gabriel/Meg

*****

String Theory

(Read on AO3)

“Wings are overrated,” declared Meg one afternoon as she and Gabriel lay in a tangle of sheets and naked limbs, her head against his chest and his arm wrapped around her shoulder. He let out a surprised snort at her words, and she tilted her head to look up at him, arching a brow. “No offense, feathers.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Please. If you wanna offend me, you’re gonna have to try harder than that.”

“Hmm…” She rolled over and onto him, straddling his hips. “I could tell you you’re bad in bed.”

Gabriel chuckled, bringing his hands up to frame her hips. “You could,” he agreed, “but we both know that’d be a lie.”

“I’m a demon, baby.” She crawled up his chest until their faces were only inches apart. “Lying’s kinda part of the job.”

“Oho, so you admit it: I am good in bed.”

“I’ve had better.”

“Yeeah, kiddo, that’d sting a heck of a lot more if we hadn’t just established you lie for a living.”

“Shut up.” Meg leaned in and captured Gabriel’s lips with her own. She felt a thrum of satisfaction as he hummed in approval and kissed him harder, licking deep into his mouth and rolling against him until they were both clawing at one another, gasping for breath.

Their relationship, if it could even be called that, wasn’t one of deep and extended conversations. It was a secret, shadowy thing of fisted sheets in sleazy hotel rooms and muffled moans in dark broom closets. It was the scrape of her nails against Gabriel’s back while he bit rough kisses into her neck. It was heated, frenzied, no-strings-attached fucking once or twice every few months that left them both bruised and breathless but more alive than Meg had felt in as long as she could remember. She liked that, feeling alive. It was a welcome change after years spent just struggling to survive.    

Suddenly, Gabriel pulled back just far enough for Meg to see him smirk, and in the blink of an eye, she was flat on her back, the archangel sitting smugly on top of her. With a huff of annoyance, she tried to pull him back down, only to be stopped by a hand on her chest.

“Hold your hellhounds, good lookin’,” drawled Gabriel, eyes sparkling even as Meg frowned up at him. “We’ll get back to our regularly scheduled programming in a minute. First, though, let’s talk more about wings. What’s your beef with them, anyway? Choke on a chicken bone back in your pre-smoke days?”

Meg glared. “Very funny.”

“I try.”

“Yeah, well try not to be disappointed, but there is no reason.”

“Sounds to me like you just haven’t been looking at the right wings.”

“Funny, sounds to me like you shutting the hell up.”

“Not my style.”

“Shame.”

“Don’t know the meaning of it.” Gabriel cocked his head to the side, his teasing expression shifting into something more genuine. “Seriously, though. You ever even seen an angel’s wings?”

The way he was looking at her was so…open, and Meg’s first instinct was to bolt for cover. “Why do you wanna know?” she asked warily.

“Call it curiosity.”

“Rumor has it, that killed the cat.”

“Rumor has it, I’ve lived more than one life.”

Meg was silent, weighing her options. She could smoke out and flee, lie low for a while and find a new host in a different part of the country. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d done so since coming topside, and it was a strategy that had saved her life more times than she could count. She’d never fled an archangel before, though. Gabriel could stop her easily enough, she suspected—hell, he could kill her right now with a snap of his fingers if he wanted to—but, as much as she suspected that he could, she also knew, with a surprising amount of certainty, that he wouldn’t. If she tried to leave, he would let her go.

“So what if I haven’t?” she said at last, raising her chin in an attempt at defiance. “Seen an angel’s wings, I mean. You gonna tell me I’m just some dumb demon skank who wouldn’t know true beauty if it bit her in the ass?”

Gabriel gave her a lopsided smile. “Actually, I was thinking of showing you mine.”

Meg faltered. “Oh.”

“If you want to see them, that is.” Gabriel winked. “I know how you feel about curiosity and cats and all that. I also know, though,” he added, tone softening somewhat, “that I’m not the only here who’s lived more than one life.”

Meg regarded him carefully, chewing her bottom lip in thought. “This ain’t gonna burn my eyes out or anything, is it?”

Gabriel laughed. “Hey, I’m an ass, but I’m not that big of an ass. Those gorgeous peepers of yours’ll be just fine, scout’s honor.”

“And if I say no?”

“Then it’s no.”

“Really? Just like that?”

“Listen, kiddo, I don’t know what sort of douchenozzles you’ve been with in the past,” said Gabriel, frowning, “but the whole consent thing? Kinda a big deal as far as angels are concerned. It’s one of the few things I actually sorta like about us. You tell me you don’t want to see my wings, I’ll take your word on it, and then I’ll take those legs of yours and wrap them around my waist, and we can get back to trying to break this bed at least one more time before the sun comes up. Your call. So, what’ll it be?”

Meg hesitated. She knew she should say no. Seeing Gabriel’s wings would just be a string between them, and strings could get caught on things, could catch around your neck and strangle you like a noose when you least expected. If you wanted to survive, you had to get used to living with as few strings as possible…and yet somehow, in that moment, Meg found that she didn’t want to just survive. She wanted to feel alive.

“Okay,” she said finally. “Do it.”

“Yes?”

“Yeah. Show me.”

The air in the room seemed to crackle, and suddenly, Gabriel was framed by a set of great, golden wings that billowed upward and outward, filling the room with a soft, shimmering glow. He gave a contented sigh and rolled his shoulders, wings opening and closing slightly in an apparent stretch. “That’s more like it. So, whaddya think?”

Gabriel’s tone was light and easy, but Meg thought she detected a flash of vulnerability in his eyes as he waited for her to say something. When she didn’t, he gave a forced sort of laugh and shifted his gaze to look at the wall. “Hey, look, I get it: it’s like you said, not your thing. I’ll just—”

Finally, Meg managed to unstick her voice. “Relax, feathers. They’re…” Beautiful, they were beautiful. Just so…incredibly…beautiful. “They’re fine, okay? Impressive, even.”

“Impressive, huh?” Gabriel grinned even as Meg rolled her eyes. “Well, well, well…” He shifted forward, crawling up until he was resting his elbows on either side of her head, his face hovering just above hers. Around them, his wings framed the sides of the bed, enveloping the two of them in a golden cocoon. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say someone’s changed her mind about wing’s being overrated,” he said loftily, dipping down to brush his nose against hers.

Tags: AU, Oh my god they were roommates, established friends(?) with benefits, cuddling

Rating: T

Wordcount: ~1.4k

*****

Come Monday, Meg decided, she was going to kill Sam Winchester.

It was only fair when you thought about it, and she’d had all last night to think about it as she’d coughed and sneezed and not fucking slept due to being unable to breathe through her nose, all thanks to Sam “I-Come-to-Work-All-Week-Even-When-I’m-Sick” Winchester. The fact that he’d shown up at the office on Friday smiling and looking ninety-five percent back to normal just added insult to injury: while she spent her Saturday bundled miserably on the couch watching reruns of CSI Miami, Winchester was probably out enjoying himself, running six marathons or whatever the fuck someone who ate a kale salad for lunch every day did for fun on their days off. Bastard.

It didn’t help that it was the middle of winter and the building’s heat was out, and Meg had lived there long enough to know that it wasn’t getting fixed any time soon. Chuck wasn’t an asshole the way some of Meg’s previous landlords had been, but he was flaky as hell and seemed more interested in drafting his weekly newsletter than actually managing the property. The only plus side was that he often forgot to collect rent until mid-way through the month, a notable perk when you were living paycheck to paycheck.

Snatching a tissue from the box at her side, Meg blew her nose for what felt like the hundredth time and tugged her blanket closer. The living room got a bit more direct sunlight than the rest of the apartment and was therefore slightly warmer than her bedroom, but even so, she was practically shivering. For a moment, she actually contemplated relocating to Gabriel’s room, which was usually the warmest in the apartment, before ultimately deciding she was better off staying on the couch.

Gabriel had been her roommate for the past four months, ever since Meg had broken things off with her cheating ex and subsequently found herself unable to afford rent on her own. After interviewing what felt like half the city’s psych ward, she’d settled on Gabriel Milton, who was new to the neighborhood and looking for a place close to the soul food restaurant he’d just gotten a job at. Meg’s first impression of Gabriel was that his perpetual lopsided smile would get real old real fast, but he’d been the first person she’d met with who had both a steady job and no police record, so she’d figured what the hell and told him to move in his stuff.

And if they had hooked up since then, well, that was neither here nor there.

Oh my god, hiiiiii!!! 😀 Sorry about that, I have it set to only allow messages from blogs I follow to avoid spam and such, but following you now. I AM SO HAPPY TO MEET ANOTHER MEGRIEL LOVER YOU HAVE NO IDEA!!! Lemme introduce you to the rest of us: @all-or-nothing-baby @narraukoiel @aloha-cowgirl (who has a story called “Clarity” that features Megriel as a side pairing which is, by all accounts, amazing, btw) @moderatelypanickedbiromantic @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover and our most recent convert, @midnightsilver.

Rachel Miner / SPN Vancouver 2018 / Friday

NOW THAT’S WHAT IM FUCKING TALKING ABOUT F U C K

“what’s with the pouting, clarence?” meg asked, watching her fallen angel stare at the full body mirror, a small pout on his face as he looked at his half-naked body. [let me fucking live she is alive in this au]

“have i gotten….too ‘chubby’?”

“fuck no, you’re sexier than ever”

“meg”

“clarence”

the demon wasn’t going to let castiel try and convince her that he had gotten fat, compared to what he looked like when she saw him for the first time since the angels fell, he wasn’t even close to what he thought he was.

his cheeks that were once semi-sunken in now scruffy and squishy, meg leaving kisses on them and making castiel get all scrunchy. s

he smiles so wide every time she sees the ex-angel remove his shirt because his ribs no longer poke out from beneath his skin, instead his belly rounds out from in between his softened hips.

she also laughs when she watched him struggle into his too small jeans for the first time, castiel was tugging on the black fabric so hard, it taking ten minutes to get them up his meaty thighs and he asked for meg’s help to button the button, she knew damn well that it wasn’t going to button, but his stubbornness wouldn’t accept that until the button popped off and launched across the room, meg’s face going red from laughing and his face going red from embarrassment, that’s when he finally let her take him shopping for new clothes. 

his sharp jawline got less and less pronounced every day, his face rounding out and a double chin appearing, and you bet your ass that meg left kisses there all the damn time.

meg had watched castiel get healthier, going from starving to well fed, from scared that he was going to be attacked every night to sleeping soundly in her arms every night

“i’m being serious, i watched you get healthy again and that makes me so damn happy to see you have the same soft features that i remember you having. you’re not ‘too chubby’, you’re healthy and that’s an amazing thing. and its nice to have something to grab onto.” the demon smiled, grabbing castiel’s rounder ass as she finished, making the human yelp and blush.

“you’re soft and sexy, clarence”

“thank you, meg”

“just tellin’ the truth, dollface.” she grinned and castiel turned around, dipping his head and kissing her gently, meg pulling him closer by his hips and deepening the kiss, it not taking too long before the two moved to the bed and she continued to show him just how beautiful she thought he was.