Christmas fics for 25 days of fics. They're shitty but I just wanted to do it so I could pratice writing and because I fecking love Christmas. 'Tis the seaon and all.
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Silvery blades of grass lie crushed beneath his bare feet, the first frost of the winter had arrived. The cold bites at his toes, his feet tingle. The forest is very quiet, most creatures have migrated for the winter or else are hibernating. The only sound are the crunching footsteps, making their way across frozen grass, approaching him from behind. An arm snakes around his waist and pulls him against the man standing behind him. He closes his eyes and breathes in the cold air, the scent of the forest fills him. He breathes out and his breath forms mist, the smokey exhale of a dragon. "It's a tradition my mother and I had, to greet the first frost with bare feet." Stiles explains. Derek kisses his shoulder, then they walk back to the house hand-in-hand. Derek listens to Stiles' heartbeat as intently and happily as Stiles listens the soft crunch of the grass beneath his blue-white feet.
NOTE: the prompt was tinsel but I wrote this instead (I don't really do tinsel) after seeing this. It's cheesy and it sucks but it's Christmas so whatever. [Obviously the first two lines do not belong to me]
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
There were four young boys, each dreaming a dream,
They were Sammy and Gabe and Cassie and Dean.
Dean dreamt of cars and Gabe dreamt of sweets,
Sammy of books and Cassie of treats,
They all dreamt of Santa, though they knew it was Bobby,
And elves who built things for work or for hobby.
They knew that their family was a very odd mix,
Like spaghetti and syrup or porridge and twix;
Two had wings and two of them did not,
But at Christmas their differences all were forgot.
They ate up the turkey, the spuds and the peas,
They pulled Christmas crackers and inside, they found keys.
Each little key matched it own little box.
And inside each box was a whole load of socks.
Tinsel and lights decorated the tree,
The Singer household was soon filled with glee;
With holly and ivy and mistletoe berry,
Surely this Christmas would be nothing but merry.
Note: I couldn't resist doing supernatural/wingkink for this prompt. I'm so original. I'm sorry it sucks, and that I'm really far behind on this, and this one isn't even Christmassy and kjdsffkah. Kbai
Dean was alone in the motel room when he heard the familiar sound of wings beating; he turned to find Cas with two great, black-feathered wings coming out of his back. He was still dressed in his usual attire, trench coat and all. The sight of his wings made Dean’s jaw drop. They were beautiful with gleaming, soft black feathers, each nearly as long as Cas’ forearm, all intricately layered to form a dark mass; a black darker than charred bones, darker than the eyes of demons, darker than leviathan blood and yet purer and more beautiful than anything he could have imagined . They were so much better than Dean had dreamed, so much better than the shadow of Cas’ wings that he had seen before, when he first met Cas.
“Cas, how come I can see your wings” Dean asked when his breath had returned to him.
“You can see them because I am allowing you to,” Cas replied
“Okay. And why are you allowing me to?”
Cas shrugged “Gabriel said that you would enjoy seeing them. I can hide them again if you wish.”
Gabriel was always interfering and making things awkward for Dean. Gabriel had picked up on Dean’s feelings towards Castiel, feelings Dean would never admit to having but were obvious to anyone who had spent any time in close proximity to Dean and Cas.
“No, it’s fine,” Dean said, trying to sound casual about the whole thing. Dean looked up, meeting Cas’ gaze.
“Do you like them?” Cas asked, not breaking eye-contact.
“I..uh.. yeah, I guess”
Cas stretched out his wings to full span, well full span when he was in a human vessel, and the edges of his wings brushed against the walls. Dean shivered slightly and moved in closer, carefully examining the wings. He tentatively reached out to touch them. The feathers were light and soft. Castiel drew his wings back in slowly, taking Dean with them until they were face to face in a cocoon of Cas’ wings. Cas leaned in and kissed Dean, taking him slightly by surprise. They were in a world of their own, two bodies, two pairs of lips, Dean and his angel.
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When it came to Christmas, Clint was an enthusiast. The day after Thanksgiving he got down the boxes and boxes of Christmas decorations that he had. He would string up fairy lights, get out the tinsel, set up and decorate a Christmas tree. He would pile on baubles and treasures collected throughout the years until the boughs of the tree would hold no more. He sent out Christmas cards on the first of December. Got a wreath for the door and played Christmas songs almost 24/7.
Bruce was quite the opposite. He wasn’t a Scrooge but he just wasn’t really into Christmas. He almost never had anyone to spend it with and ended up just ending up reading or working for most of the day. This year, however, would be different. This was his first Christmas with Clint. Clint was like an excitable toddler when it came to Christmas, today Clint was planning on dragging Bruce around several places until they found the perfect Christmas tree for Bruce’s flat.
“Okay, we’re here.” Clint said excitedly “Close your eyes and stay there.” They had just pulled up to a field in the middle of nowhere. Clint got out of the car, opened the door for Bruce and led him out. He held took Bruce’s cold hand in his and guided him. After about five minutes, they stopped. Clint moved behind Bruce and covered Bruce’s eyes with his hands. “Breathe in, smell that.” Clint said, taking a deep breath in.
Bruce wisely did as instructed. His nose was filled with cool, crisp air; the smell of pine needles overwhelming his senses; he had Clint’s warm breath tickling the back of his neck. This was Christmas should be like.
“Bruce,” Clint whispered into his ear “you can open your eyes now.” Bruce opened them. He was surrounded by Christmas trees in all directions, there were twinkling yellow lights lighting the path and families and couples walking around assessing the trees.
“Isn’t it wonderful,” Clint said and Bruce could hear the awe in his voice. Whilst Christmas stopped being magical for Bruce when he was about eight, he could see that the magic had never gone out of it for Clint. It made him happier than the holiday itself ever could. He leaned over to Clint and kissed him.
~
Bruce ambled around at a slow pace whilst Clint rushed off to assess each and every Christmas tree. There were several important factors in the formula for the perfect tree: the height, the evenness of branch density, the colour, the amount of needles it dropped, how long it would last for and, most importantly, the smell. Clint finally spotted the perfect tree, he ran over Bruce and pulled him by the hand to the tree he had found. “Ta-da! The perfect tree.” And Bruce had to agree, it was a lovely tree, with a fantastic smell. The look it put on Clint’s face was enough to convince Bruce.
"Merry Chirstmas, Cupid.” Bruce smiled, squeezing Clint’s hand tight as the tree was packaged up for them.
For nearly twelve days Sam had been finding candy canes everywhere he went. They were under his pillows, in his shoes, in his jacket pockets. The weirdest one was when he got out of the shower and found one on the side of the sink. It definitely hadn't been there when he’d gotten in the shower so someone must have put it there whilst he was showering. This one was slightly bigger than the other ones and it had green and red stripes whereas the others had just had red stripes. The main difference though was the tag attached with Sam’s name on it. He checked the label for any clue as to who might have left it but all it said was “For Sam xx”.
Sam was intrigued by the gifts but he had no idea who had been leaving them for him. He hadn't actually eaten any of them but he had kept them all. They were always left when he wasn't looking so he decided to leave a note and see if it got any response. He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and wrote:
“Thank you for the candy canes. What’s your name?”
When he turned around from writing the note he found Gabriel lying on his bed, candy cane hanging out of his mouth.
“Merry Christmas, Samsquatch!” Gabriel grinned.
“Gabe? You’ve been leaving me candy canes? Why?”
“You seemed like you needed something sweet in your life,” Gabriel shrugged “although, it seems you haven’t been eating them.”
“Yeah, well I wasn’t really sure where they’d been coming from so I wasn’t really sure if they were safe y’ know?”
Gabe nodded “I have another present for you too. Hopefully you’ll like this one. Close your eyes and count to ten”
Before Sam had even reached two he felt Gabriel in front of him. Gabriel’s breath was warm on his face and Sam tensed up. As Sam reached nine, Gabriel leaned in and kissed him. The tension melted away. Gabriel pulled back. Sam opened his eyes but, with the sound of beating wings, Gabriel vanished and Sam was left alone in the motel room, mouth agape, with the taste of peppermint candy canes lingering in his mouth.
A snowball hit Sam right in the back of his head. He heard a chuckle behind him as snow and ice slipped down inside the collar of his shirt. He bent down, scooped up some snow and quickly rounded it into a ball. He threw it at Dean who, having seen it coming, quickly ducked. Castiel, who was walking just slightly behind Dean, was not so fast and ended up with a face-full of snow. Dean knelt down and made more snowballs, packing them tight. He handed one to Cas.
“Here, throw this at Sam.” Dean said quietly.
The snowball clipped Sam’s shoulder, Dean laughed and Cas looked pleased with himself. Dean kept passing Cas snowballs to throw at Sam, who obediently threw them, mostly on-target too. They made a pretty good team and soon Sam was covered in snow. Sam was not just taking the onslaught though; he began throwing snowballs back in Dean and Cas’ direction. It was becoming a full-blown battle.
Eventually with ice-cold fingers and snowy water trickling down their necks a truce was called.
“It seems we have a real snow angel on our hands.” Dean said, brushing snow off Cas’ trench coat.
They continued trudging through the snow on their search for any place with both working heating and beer.
I'm going to have to put up both Day 3 and 4 tomorrow. I went out ice-skating tonight so I didn't have time to finish today's.
Day 3 which is Snow is Destiel / just general spn and Day 4-Candy canes- will probably be Sabriel because sweet-tooth!Gabriel is great.
On the plus side, ice-skating really put me in a Christmassy mood.
There were only two things in this world that Stiles loved more than Lydia Martin; snow and his jeep and, okay, maybe Derek I’m-the-alpha-now Hale was creeping up the list too. Sadly these two great loves of his life did not get along well. He was nearly at the Hale house to talk with Derek before the pack meeting when he found his pathway blocked by more than a foot of snow. He could clearly go no further in the Jeep. He sighed and got out of the car, immediately feeling the cold bite into him. The snow almost reached his knees, and magical though it was, it was also bloody cold and wet. He trekked the rest of the route to Derek’s place. By the time he finally he arrived he couldn’t feel anything from the knee down, his fingertips were whiter than the snow, and he was violently shivering. He half collapsed against the door.
Derek heard a thud outside and could faintly smell Stiles’ scent. He opened the door and Stiles fell into the house.
“Woahh,” Derek said, catching and steadying Stiles before he hit the ground. He looked at Stiles, he did not look good. His lips were blue and he was shaking. He pretty much carried Stiles over to the sofa and sat him down. “What happened?”
“Snow.Road.Jeep.Walk” Stiles said with chattering teeth.
“Okay, we need to get you warmed up. Stay put” he demanded. He ran upstairs and returned with a blanket, a towel, some socks and a pair of jeans. He threw them down next to Stiles. “Okay, wet clothes off.” Derek demanded. He left the room to let Stiles change in privacy.
Stiles took off his wet shoes, socks and jeans and dried his feet and legs he put on Derek’s jeans which was a weird thought but they fitted him fairly well. He put on the socks and curled up under the blanket. It smelled of Derek. Not in the creepy scent way the pack could smell but in the human way that you recognise your closest friends’ smells or, in Derek’s case, he recognised the smell because Derek has personal boundary issues.
Derek returned with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, he handed one to Stiles and sat down next to him. “Any better?” He asked.
Stiles looked down into his mug and saw miniature marshmallows floating around in it. He snorted. Derek I’m-the-alpha-now Hale had a stash of hot chocolate and mini marshmallows? Scott would never believe him. He took a sip. “Much better. Thanks,” he smiled. “This is really good.”
“Good”
“Derek Hale, the master of the one-word sentence.”
“I think I preferred you frozen. You talked less.”
“Shut up” Stiles replied, moving in closer to Derek to steal some of his body heat. Derek didn’t seem to mind so he moved in even closer. And there they sat, drinking their hot chocolates until the rest of the pack arrived.
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Sam wasn’t quite sure how it had happened but Gabriel had managed to convince him into letting him decorate the motel room. He had to admit, he’d done a pretty good job; better than most of the motel Christmases he’d had. There was a real, if slightly lopsided tree, strings of fairy lights, holly, tinsel, Christmas songs; the works. Gabe stole a kiss and pointed upwards. Mistletoe. Sam chuckled as he noticed several sprigs of it strategically placed around the room.
Sam went back to his laptop but was distracted by Gabe and Castiel conspiring in the corner. Well, more likely Gabe was the one conspiring whilst Cas sat and listened, but still a cause for concern.
“What are you guys whispering about?” Sam asked.
“Nothing, you know. Angel stuff.” Gabriel’s reply was accompanied by a mischievous grin.
Sam got up to see what was going on, he sat down on the sofa between Gabe and Cas. Gabe threw his arm around Sam.
“Like my handiwork?” Gabe asked, gesturing around the room with his other arm, attempting to distract Sam.
All three of them were instead distracted by a knock at the door.
“Sam, it’s me. I’ve got supplies.” Dean called through the door.
Cas, prompted by some gentle ankle-kicking from Gabriel, got up and answered the door.
“Oh, hi, Cas. Wasn’t expecting you, I didn’t know you knew how a door worked.” Dean said.
“Hello, Dean.” Cas replied, looking slightly puzzled at the door joke.
“Well, you gonna let me in?”
Cas looked up at the doorway. Dean’s eyes followed suit. Mistletoe.
Cas leant toward Dean and kissed him. It was stiff and awkward, Dean was rigid and they both had their fists clenched at their sides, but neither of them could deny it also felt warm and nice. Dean pulled away.
“What the hell was that?” Dean demanded.
“Gabriel was just explaining some of your customs and traditions to me.” Cas shrugged.
Dean came in and closed the door. They both had only taken a couple of steps before another sprig of mistletoe was materialised between them. The culprit tried and failed to stifle his laughs.
“Gabriel.” Dean stated.
“It is a tradition...” Cas said leaning in.
This kiss felt much better. Cas is a fast learner Dean noted. He pulled Cas in further, earning cheers and more laughter from the sofa area. He chucked an apple in the general vicinity of his brother and the annoying angel.
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