The Writings Of A Wayward Daughter

A/N: a random little drabble. It has been a while and I’m in what will hopefully become a big writing sort of mood. Have a tiny fic! Apologies for any errors, it is late at night and I posted almost immediately after writing it. As always, if you’d like to be tagged in my Gabe works, please let me know!

Summary: Aftermath of a difficult hunt for Reader.

Read Me on AO3:

~I’ll add it to my Gabriel Drabbles soon~

Tag list: @eurusholmmes @ourloveisforthelovely @pensysto @hankypranky @kissofthebadwolf

*******************************************

You unceremoniously tossed your beat-up duffel onto the bed, which puffed a small amount of dust at the impact. The door swung shut behind you and latched with a gentle click. You toed your shoes off and tossed the key on the bedside before walking painstakingly to the bathroom. The lightbulb blinked twice before coming to its full power, emitting just enough light into the tiny room to elongate the shadows and creases on your face in the mirror. You hardly spared your reflection a glance, reaching down to turn on the surprisingly powerful faucet below it. You splashed the cold water into your face in hopes of restoring some semblance of cognizance. Glancing down at your hands, your brow furrowed. You began to scrub at the specs of red on your skin, but every time you rid yourself of one, you found another. On, and on, until your tears began to join the water you so desperately cleansed your arms with. With a feral sort of growl, you ripped the shirt you wore over your head and tossed it aside. The rest of your clothing quickly followed and you threw on the shower full-force, as hot as you could stand it. You couldn’t bring yourself to care to turn the sink off as you climbed into the heavy stream. You stood under the spray until you lost track of time. The water had long turned cold, but you hadn’t noticed. Your skin was red and wrinkled, your eyes swollen. The hot water did wonders to loosen your aching muscles. You took a shuddering breath and regained some awareness. Turning the shower and sink off, you walked into the room and climbed into the musty bed, foregoing clothing in your exhaustion. You’d forgotten to turn on the light, and the sun had set as you showered. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the streetlamp in the parking lot. You clutched your pillow and curled into a ball.

You awoke from...something. Something less than sleep, but less than consciousness. Something in-between, somewhere an exhausted mind riddled with despair goes when it’s too full of self-loathing to allow the blissful peace of sleep. You felt arms around you and were reminded of your nakedness. You knew, logically, you should be alarmed. You couldn’t find the energy. A face nestled into the back of your neck. You felt the fingers on one of the hands begin to stoke your skin comfortingly.

“I could feel your distress all the way back home.”

The tension in your shoulders relaxed at the soothing voice, a hushed whisper. Loud enough to hear, quiet enough to sleep through. You could feign sleep, but you knew he knew you were awake.

“I can’t stop seeing her face,” you replied after a long moment. It was the first time you’d spoken in hours and your voice was hoarse.

“How old was she?”

“Eleven.”

You’d thought you’d run out of tears. The arms tightened around you and you felt a pair of lips press to the crook of your neck where it met your shoulder.

“She’ll be at peace, then. She was too young for anything less,” he reassures you. “Ssshhhh, Sugar.”

A/N: On the fifth day of ficmas, yours truly gave to thee...one teachable momeeeeent, ugly Christmas sweaters, undercover prep work, and snowballs and fun by a tree! In support of my fellow creators I did not post anything yesterday so I’ll post this one now and part 6 later this evening. I’m still not adding links to my posts in case they don’t show up, so please visit my blog or my AO3 for the previous installments!

Day 5: A Teachable Moment

Tag List: @kissofthebadwolf @eurusholmmes @ourloveisforthelovely @pensysto @hankypranky

******************************************************************************

“I’m not so sure about this, y/n.”

“Oh, don’t be so nervous. It’ll be fine. Fun, even, if you give it a chance.”

“I’m just not sure this is my kind of...thing.”

“You? Out of everything that makes you, well, you...THIS is not your thing?”

“What if I can’t do it right?”

“I’m right here. I’ll talk you through it.”

“I don’t know y/n this may be fun for other people but...am I even holding you right?”

“Not so tightly. Relax. Keep a firm grip. I’m sure if you give it a chance you’ll love it and want to do it all the time.”

“All the time? Just how often do you expect to get me...here?”

“Oh, calm down, will you? And here I thought you’re the one with all of the experience. Out of your millennia of existence, you’ve never thought, even once, to try this?”

“Let’s just say the occasion never presented itself.”

“It’ll be fun!”

“I’m starting to wish it still hadn’t—what, what’s happening?”

“Ssh. Relax. Close your eyes and it’ll be over before you know it. I really think you’ll enjoy it.”

“You swear you’ve done this before?”

“I’ve been doing it for years! I’ve only had the minor accident here and there. Just be sure to hold on the whole time, though. Once I did it with a boy growing up and he let go. He, well—“

“What? What happened to him?”

“Let’s just say he didn’t want to do it again, that’s all. It can be dangerous if you’re not careful.”

“Y/n...”

“Oh, stop being such a wuss. That’s why I’m here. I still can’t get over the fact that you’ve never done this! It’s such an exhilarating feeling. Now hold on, I’m about to—“

“What—What are you doing? Are you pushing? What’s—“

The angel let out a long yelp and gripped your hips with his hands as you began to move quicker. You grinned, laughing in your adrenaline rush and quickly gripped the front of the contraption. The two of you began to pick up speed and you felt the wind whip through your hair. Your eyes watered and you felt Gabriel bury his head in the crook of your neck. You let out a whoop and leaned slightly to steer the sled to the side of the snowbank as you reached the bottom of the hill. The sled skidded to a stop and you leaned backward onto the angel’s chest, laughing.

You felt him steadying his breathing. His huffs of breath, however, soon devolved into laughter. You hoped it was laughter of enjoyment instead of hysterics.

“You doing okay back there, babe?” You asked. He poked you in the side for your patronizing tone. You climbed out of the sled and held your hand out to him. He took it and pulled himself off of the device as well. Without letting go of your hand, he pulled you to him and kissed you soundly.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’” you breathed when he released you. He grinned at you before reaching down and taking the sled in his hand.

“Race you to the top!” He called as he began running back up the snowy hill.

A/N: PLEASE READ!! So, I’ve been told that tumblr is messing up when things are posted with links to other things in them. So, I will not be posting the links to the previous three fics nor the link to my AO3 on this fic to see if it fixes the problem. If it does, I won’t add the links to the future installments of this series, either. You can find the first three stories in this series on my page as well as the link to my AO3! Please check them out! Until then, on with the show! On the fourth day of ficmas, Yours Truly gave to thee...ugly christmas sweaters, undercover prep work, mistletoe kisses, and snowballs and fun by a tree!

Day Four: Ugly Christmas Sweaters!

Day One (Snowball Fight): on my page!

Day Two (Mistetoe): on my page!

Day Three (A Christmas Ball): on my page!

Read Me on AO3: Find the link in my page description to my AO3 Page!

Tag List: @kissofthebadwolf @eurusholmmes @ourloveisforthelovely @pensysto @hankypranky

********************************************************************

You thumped your shopping bags onto the kitchen table in your small apartment, much to the bemusement of the angel sitting in the chair drinking coffee.

“You’ve been busy this morning,” he remarked. You grinned began dumping the contents onto the table, revealing an eclectic hodgepodge of crafting supplies. Gabriel picked up a glue gun curiously. “What on earth are you up to?”

“Well,” You began, a mischievous glint in your eyes, “you know how I convinced the boys to actually celebrate Christmas this year in the bunker?” Gabriel nodded his assent and you continued, “I may have expressed my enthusiasm for ugly Christmas sweaters and exaggerated the joy of making one in front of Jack.”

Gabriel cocked a grin, “You sneaky little devil. So let me guess, the hardy boys are now saddled with helping my nephew make a sweater?”

“Yes, and Cas as well. He was intrigued by the odd human tradition and wanted to join in. Now we’re all wearing ugly sweaters for Christmas! Yes, you too!” You cut him off as he opened his mouth to ask the question. He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. As he took another sip of coffee, his T-shirt changed into a sweater covered in frills, bows, pom poms, and Christmas lights.

You swatted his arm and shoved a glue gun into his fist. “That doesn’t count! You have to make it. From scratch!” You could see the protest building in his face and you batted your eyelashes, doing your best impression of Sam’s infamous puppy eyes. Heaving a long-suffering sigh, the angel gave in and took the glue gun and plain green sweater you were offering him. You smiled at him and kissed his cheek.

“The things I put myself through for you, woman,” he mumbled.

“Do a good job and we’ll see just how ugly your sweater looks on the floor tomorrow night,” you teased. His eyebrow quirked at your flirtatious taunt and he tried to pull you onto his lap in response. You untangled yourself from his grasp and gathered your arms full of art supplies instead, earning yourself a smack on your backside as you ran past him into the bedroom.

“And no peeking!” You called as you shut the door behind you. It was time to get to work.

***

Thirty-Six hours later, Gabriel wrapped his arm around your waist and snapped you both to the bunker. Knocking on the door, you adjusted your jacket. You wanted your sweater to be a surprise, so you’d made sure you were completely covered before leaving your bedroom this evening. Gabriel had put his sweater on and shown you almost shyly. He’d taken the task more seriously than you’d expected. His inexperience with making something versus conjuring it was obvious through hot glue strings and small mistakes here and there, but his sweater was genuine and endearing. There were Christmas-colored pompoms dotted here and there down his arms and he’d taken felt and tinsel to try and create a Christmas tree scene on the front. He’d even made small square-shaped Christmas presents out of cardboard and wrapping paper to place under the Christmas tree. You’d kissed his insecurities about his artistic skills away, and he was more excited now to see how the rest of the group fared.

Sam opened the door to the bunker and you took in his sweater appreciatively. He was craftier than he let on, apparently, or he simply had some natural skills. His deep burgundy sweater had ‘Merry Christmas’ written in fabric paint script across the chest and a scene constructed below it with a fireplace and felt stockings. His arms were wrapped in tinsel and Christmas lights. You nodded at him, impressed.

“Look at you, Samsquatch! Nice sweater!” Sam ducked his head in pleased embarrassment. You and Gabe slid past him through the door to see a heartfelt effort in Christmas decór. There were lights decorating every wall, stockings for each of you tacked against one wall, and even a Christmas tree in the corner with popcorn strings and candy canes. A small pile of presents sat under it—Gabriel had snapped your presents to the boys there earlier in the day. You heard a flutter of wings and Jack appeared in front of you as you reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Y/N! Look at my sweater!!” He exclaimed, clearly proud of himself. You looked him over and laughed, his sweater looked as though a child had made it, and he had certainly enjoyed himself while making it. There were dried glue stains here and there and haphazard amounts of glitter, string, ribbons, pompoms, and various other crafting supplies covering his entire front. He did a spin, allowing you to see the back, and you saw the attempt at writing “Merry Christmas” with fabric paint. He’d tried to alternate red and green letters, and the green letters were slightly larger than the red ones. A few of the letters were smudged, but overall the effect was charming. You hugged him and praised his first Christmas sweater, making him beam with pride.

You released Jack as Dean walked into the room, Castiel close behind. Castiel’s sweater was simple but creative. He’d glued fairy lights and Christmas ornaments in the shape of a star on his front. You smiled appreciatively at him before giving Dean a disappointed frown.

“Dean, you’re supposed to be creative with your sweater!”

“What are you talking about?” Dean glanced down at the lone stocking glued to the front of his otherwise empty sweater. Reaching his hand inside the stocking, he pulled out a bottle of beer as he claimed, “my sweater is perfect!” He popped the cap off and took a swig as you laughed.

“What about yours, y/n?” Sam asked as he joined the small group. Gabriel crossed his arms in front of him and stepped away from you.

“Yeah, even I haven’t seen this masterpiece yet,” he said.

The men stared at you, awaiting your grand reveal. Grinning, you unzipped your jacket and threw it off to the side. Groans and laughter rang through the room as the mix of men and angels in front of you took in the stuffed 3D Christmas angel on your front, the—“is that supposed to be ME?”—Horn of Gabriel in its hand, and from the bell of the horn emerged the words “Merry Christmas Bitches!” down your sleeve.

“Wait, it gets better!” You proclaimed triumphantly. Twisting around, you threw your hands in the air above your head and showed your back to the boys, letting them take in the Christmas tree shape your arms made with the green ruching, ornaments, and glitter, complete with a star at the top of the sleeves. You turned back around to a thoroughly amused Dean, Sam, and Jack, a bemused and slightly confused Castiel, and an exasperated Gabriel. You smiled sweetly at the latter and he rolled his eyes at you before pulling you to him and kissing your forehead.

So, tumblr simply isn’t working properly for me. I’m hoping the issue gets fixed soon. The first three installments of my Twelve Days of Drabbles can be found on my page, but they can also be found here on my AO3! I may not be able to properly tag things for these fics, but I’m going to continue to upload them! My recent fics won’t show up in search results but some of my other posts are, so I’m hoping this one does as well! Please read and enjoy the first three installments of my Twelve Days of Drabbles featuring everyone’s favorite sweet archangel!

Day One: Snow Ball Fight

My Page       AO3

Day Two: Mistletoe

My Page     AO3

Day Three: A Christmas Ball

My Page      AO3

Day Four: Ugly Christmas Sweaters

A/N: I have no idea if this is going to show up or not, but I’m going to continue to post my Twelve Days of Drabbles series! Hopefully the tumblr tagging issue is fixed soon! Until then, here is part three! On the third day of ficmas, yours truly gave to thee...undercover prep work, mistletoe kisses, and snowballs and fun by a tree!

Day Three: A Christmas Ball

Read Me on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17005620

Day One    Day Two

Tag List:

@kissofthebadwolf @eurusholmmes @ourloveisforthelovely @pensysto @hankypranky

*************************************************************

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little excited. You absolutely loved getting to dress up and play a character on hunts. You were quite convincing (thank you high school drama classes!) and in your line of work, the chance to get glam simply doesn’t come around very often. You didn’t let on to your excitement, though. The boys would never let you hear the end of it if they thought you actually enjoyed being “girly.” You rarely bothered with makeup these days, and jeans and flannels were easier to hunt in than dresses and skirts. This was going to be more than a little makeup and a nice dress, though. You were investigating some local disappearances of high society heirs and heiresses and had gotten a lead that whatever you were searching for would be staking out their next victim at some Christmas Ball one of the well-to-do’s was throwing. Sam had shaken his hair and batted his eyelashes at the right women and ended up with two tickets, offering you the perfect opportunity to stake out the room from the inside. To play the part, you had to look the part: and that meant hair, makeup, nails, jewelry, and a full length, forest green, taffeta ball gown with an off-the-shoulder sweetheart neckline you’d found in a boutique and were absolutely infatuated with. You hadn’t worn anything this nice since your high school prom, and that dress had come from a secondhand store. The boys had already been seen by several of the attendees, so they were out of the question when it came to who was going to play your date. With Cas on Jack duty, the obligation fell to a particularly enthusiastic Gabriel.

You’d taken him shopping yesterday for a rental tux. Clothing shopping with Gabriel went about as you would have expected it to. The first three tuxes he tried on were simply to amuse you: a pinstripe zoot suit that looked as though it was actually from the 1930’s, an all-white getup with a bright green bow tie, and some hideous orange number you were certain he’d zapped in because there was no way in hell it had been in the store on a rack to be bought. Finally, you managed to smother your laughter and sternly reprimanded him into taking this seriously. He came out of the dressing room a few moments later in a well-tailored formal black tux, white button-up, and a handkerchief sticking out of his pocket that perfectly matched your dress. He glanced up at you through his lashes as he fixed the button on his sleeve, making your heart stutter in your chest and your breath catch. He must have noticed your reaction, because he quickly followed it up with a smirk and a wink. Blushing faintly, you rolled your eyes at him and bade him to take off his suit—“so we can BUY it, you pervert”—and left the store, package in hand.

***

You looked at yourself in the motel room’s full-length mirror. You hardly recognized yourself. Your hair was done up with curls and bobby pins with little pearls glued to them. Your face was classy and sophisticated, with earth-toned eyeshadow and deep red lipstick to compliment the dress you were in. Jody put her hand on your shoulder and smiled at your reflection.

“You look beautiful, y/n.”

You were only an hour from Sioux Falls, so Jody had graciously offered to help you prepare for the evening. Your skills were a little rusty and you knew, as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you’d have never been able to make yourself look the way you look right now. You appeared every bit the part of an uptown heiress on her way to a high-society Christmas ball. Jody had kindly offered you some beautiful diamond earrings and a pair of heels to wear with your dress on loan to save you the money of having to buy some.

“Which of these lucky men gets to be your escort for the evening?” She asked. Your face colored a little as you replied.

“Um, Gabriel.”

Jody’s eyebrows raised as she gave you a knowing look. The two of you had grown close over the years and she was the only one you’d confided your crush on the archangel to. Embarrassed, you looked away from her face in the mirror. She gently turned you by your shoulder and tilted your chin up to meet her eyes.

“He’s not going to know what hit him,” she said. As you blushed and began to brush off what she said she stopped you. “No, really. You look incredible. He’s a lucky guy tonight. And if he doesn’t see it, I’m positive there will be several other men there who will,” she added on at the end humorously. You laughed and she handed you your beaded bag containing your ticket into the party and a couple of innocuous-looking trinkets that doubled as hunting weapons in a pinch. You had the demon knife strapped to your thigh and you knew Gabriel would be able to pop in anything else you may need, should the need arise at all. You were going there tonight specifically to identify your target, not to engage them.

You heard two sharp knocks on the door. Dean’s voice immediately followed.

“You two about ready in there? You need to get going.”

“We’re ready!” You called as Jody opened the door to the view of the three men. Dean let out a low whistle as his eyes landed on you and Sam’s eyes widened.

“Wow, y/n, you look...wow!” the taller man said in appreciation, making you blush once more. Gabriel pushed his way in between the two.

“As eloquent as that was, Sammy Boy, I’m sure y/n looks—“ his eyes found you, shyly clutching your bag in front of him, looking up at him from below your eyelashes. His mouth moved as though to form the words to describe how you looked, but no sound came out. The sight made you smile, and your confidence rose. Jody gave you a subtle nudge in your back and it nearly made you miss a similar nudge Sam gave the gaping angel before him. You were glad you’d been the one to take him shopping for the clothes he had on, if you’d been presented with this sight of him, freshly shaven, hair meticulously styled in its familiar swoop, and a well-fitted suit to boot, you’d have been struck speechless as well. You could feel your heart beating faster and you knew he could hear it as his eyes met yours.

Dean clapped Gabriel on the shoulder and it seemed to reawaken him to his surroundings. “—lovely,” he choked out. He cleared his throat and straightened. Holding out his hand to you, he asked, “as your date for this evening, I wish to inform you that our car has arrived.”

Your eyebrow quirked as you took his hand. “Car? Did you actually order a car for us?” He smiled his familiar half-smile and responded.

“I may have conjured one specifically for our use.”

“A proper fairy godmother,” you teased, “do I get glass slippers and a crown, too?”

“No, but I can promise the car won’t turn into a pumpkin at midnight. I strongly considered turning these two dunderheads into our chauffeurs, though.”

You laughed and didn’t even notice the indignant huffs from the two men behind you as Gabriel led you to the vehicle parked in the lot, an (obviously conjured) man in a crisp suit and hat poised next to an open door, waiting for you. You didn’t notice much else at all, besides Gabriel. You hoped he was more on top of his game than you were, because you might be too distracted tonight to do much investigating. The way he kept looking at you though, his jaw twitching and even swallowing hard once or twice, meant this particular hunt may be a little more difficult than you'd planned.

Day Two: Mistletoe!

Day One Day Three

Read Me on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16993947

Tag List: @kissofthebadwolf @eurusholmmes @ourloveisforthelovely @pensysto @hankypranky

*****************************************************

The bunker was under attack. That much was clear. The enemy? A sweet-toothed archangel and his unending supply of Christmas cheer. He had taken in yours and the Winchesters’ disappointing amount of interest in Christmas and decided to supplement your lack of enthusiasm by tripling his own. The annoying pile of feathers could be found at any given moment putting decorations in random empty spots (how he kept finding wall space was beyond you, the bunker looked like Santa’s toy shop threw up in it) and singing Christmas carols obnoxiously loud and off-key. Not even your bedrooms had been spared. You woke up one morning to tinsel, fairy lights, and fake snow falling softly from the ceiling, disappearing before it hit the floor. It had taken the archangel half a day to get you to forgive him (not that you hadn’t tried to drag it out...you were a sucker for those puppy eyes and were nursing a crush on the angel anyway so it was only a matter of time before you caved). You had to admit, though, the effect of the snow and the twinkling lights in your room was charming, so you allowed them to stay. Your room wasn’t nearly as horrendous as the boys’ rooms, anyway.

By far the most annoying ammunition the angel was packing was his obsession with mistletoe. It was constantly popping up in the most random spots. You’d developed the habit of glancing at the ceiling of every entryway you walked through, as the mistletoe tended to appear randomly and unannounced. Dean had learned the hard way two days in that this mistletoe in particular was special: it locked you in place until you’d received a kiss to free you. Why Gabriel had chosen this particular brand of torture was beyond you. Dean had been stuck in the doorway of the library for almost an hour before you’d gotten back from the store and were able to peck his cheek. Since then, you and the boys were much more cautious around doorways. Sam was by far the worst, with his habit of reading books and walking at the same time. Nearly once a day you heard your name called in agitation and you had to go free the poor man. Dean was more cautious and had only been caught once this week. You’d wished you’d had a camera to capture his bright red face when Castiel had been the one closest to him and kissed him soundly.

Castiel and Jack had both been caught by the little plant a handful of times. It took some explaining at first for Jack to understand why he suddenly couldn’t move and why one of you kissing him was the only way to get free. He seemed thoroughly amused by this odd new game, although he’d taken to watching his steps carefully, as well.

The one you couldn’t understand was Gabriel. He was caught under the mistletoe nearly as often as Sam was. He was the one who invented the little hellish game, so why didn’t he simply get rid of it if it caused him so much trouble? You asked him once, after kissing his cheek for the third time that day.

“Aw, Sugar, where would the fun in that be? It’s all a part of spreading the love on Christmas! Besides, if my punishment is getting kisses from you, Sugarlips, it’s not a bad way to spend the day,” he finished with a wag of his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes and flushed at the ridiculous nickname. The next time he was caught, you sent Castiel to him, who thought nothing of planting one smack on his lips, much to Gabriel and Dean’s collective chagrin. The mistletoe’s spontaneity slowed a bit and became more predictable after that.

You glanced up as you walked toward the doorway to the kitchen and saw the tell-tale glitter of the plant forming. Stepping around it, you entered the kitchen, where Sam and Dean were already leaning on the counters, drinking their morning coffee.

“How come you’ve never been caught by the mistletoe, y/n?” Sam asked.

“Simple,” you shrugged. “I pay attention to my surroundings.”

“Yeah, but no one is that over-observant. Even Cas has been caught once or twice,” Dean supplied.

“Not that that’s been a problem for you, Dean-o,” Gabriel responded as he walked into the room. As Dean blushed, Gabriel went to take another step and found he couldn’t. Looking sheepishly your way, you sighed in exasperation and rolled your eyes before stepping over to him and kissing his cheek.

“Speaking of unobservant. That’s the second time this morning, Gabe.”

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Heh, yeah. Sorry. I should look where I’m going more. Have you really never been caught by the mistletoe?” He asked suspiciously.

You grinned at him in triumph. “Not once!” You proudly proclaimed. “Not that it matters much, I may as well have for all the kissing I’ve had to do to all five of you the last two weeks. I’ll be glad when it’s gone for good.”

Distracted as you were by the coffee you were pouring, you missed the odd emotion that briefly played on the archangel’s face at your blasé proclamation of how much kissing you’d done recently. Sidestepping the mistletoe in the doorway, you made your way back to your bedroom.

***

Of course. Of bloody course. Now is when it happens. Now you’re too distracted to notice where you’re walking. Now, when the boys had gone to do some Christmas shopping—they still didn’t buy into the Christmas cheer thing but they had some extra money from pool hustling during the job last week and decided to buy everyone presents (you were pretty sure a certain Angel of the Lord had piqued Dean’s interest in gift-giving) and had taken an overly enthusiastic Jack along with them. Castiel and Gabriel were off on Heaven business. You were alone in the bunker and now—NOW—you’d forgotten to look up and were stuck, rooted to the spot, in the entryway of the library. You’d been here for an hour already and had discovered you could at least sit down. You’d begun to pick the link from your sweater and flick the balls toward the wall, having reread the report you’d been reading four times already.

At last, just after your two hour mark of imprisonment, you heard a flutter of wings in the next room over.

“Finally! Whoever that is, get your feathery butt in here!” You called. A bemused Gabriel came waltzing into view. You glared at him as his expression evolved into a thoroughly amused smirk.

“Oh, and what do we have here?” He asked facetiously. “The high and mighty herself trapped by such a foolish trick as cursed mistletoe?”

“I swear, Gabriel, there’s gonna be an angel on top of the tree instead of a star if you don’t get over here and kiss me.” You blushed furiously as the words left your mouth. “I’ve been here for two hours already,” You tacked on a Little desperately.

His eyes widened and he laughed at your grumpiness. His expression softened into something you couldn’t name, but it made your heart stutter in your chest. You were acutely aware of him as he sauntered toward you and gently grasped your shoulders. His head bent down and your breath caught as he softly pecked your cheek with his lips.

A/N: It’s here! The Twelve Days of Drabbles have arrived! On the first day of ficmas, yours truly gave to thee, snowballs and fun by a tree!

Day One: Snow Ball Fight!

Tag List: @kissofthebadwolf @eurusholmmes @ourloveisforthelovely @pensysto @hankypranky

**********************************************************

The door shut behind you as quietly as you could make it without the use of your hands. The latch catching made the men in the room below glance up at you. Three of them looked back to the books they were occupied with, only one pair of golden eyes stayed trained on you, suspicious. He knew you too well and could tell you were up to something.

Your face was the perfect mask of innocence as you called out, “Hey, Dean?”

The man in question looked up at you at the sound of his name, eyebrow raised in question. You smiled sweetly before quickly bringing your arm out from behind your back and flinging a snowball at his face. It hit its target with a resounding WHAP and for a split second the room was stunned into silence as the snow dripped off of Dean’s flabbergasted face.

The silence was broken as Gabriel burst into laughter. His laughter was cut short as a second snowball found its way to his chest. His eyes caught yours, shock and mock betrayal evident in his face. You grinned mischievously at him and his eyes narrowed.

Dean wiped the snow from his face and stood, along with his brother and the other angel in the room.

“What the hell, y/n?” He called up at you angrily. “We’re trying to research!”

“Exactly!” You called. “All we’ve done for days and days is research. I think we’re all due for a well-deserved break. Thus, I challenge you, all of you, to a snowball fight. What do you say? Angels versus humans?”

The corners of Gabriel’s mouth twitched as he pointed out, “I think we’re a little outnumbered here, Sweetcakes. It’s not quite fair.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Oh, please. Like you don’t have a heavenly advantage over us with an arm tied behind your back. Besides, I had no intention of uneven teams. Hey, Jack?” You called. The nephilim boy popped into existence immediately. “Wanna have a snowball fight?”

“Sure!” He agreed enthusiastically. His eyebrows suddenly cinched in confusion. “What’s a snowball fight?”

You laughed and Sam clapped him on the shoulder. “We’ll teach you. Go put on some warm clothes,” he sent the boy on his way. “I think y/n’s right. We need a chance to unwind. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been in a snowball fight,” he looked up at you wistfully. You smiled at his support.

Dean closed the book he was still holding with a finalizing snap. “Ah, what the hell. Pounding the feathers off of your overgrown bird of a boyfriend does sound like fun.”

“I could say the same to you!” You laughed as Gabe and Cas both huffed in offense.

Within ten minutes everyone was geared up in winter clothing and huddled outside.

“What are the rules of a snowball fight?” Castiel asked. Dean rubbed his back reassuringly before saying, “well...there are none.”

“Then how do we know who won?” Jack asked, equally confused. You shrugged at him and took advantage of his momentary confusion to throw a clump of snow at his face. His eyes widened and he scrambled to try and gather his own small pile of snow to throw at you in return. You ran toward the trees, laughing.

Looking back, you could see the brothers following you toward the trees and the angels hanging back as Gabriel tried to give the other two a crash course in snowball-making.

“No angel magic snowballs!” You called at him. Gabriel looked up and stuck his tongue out at you before snapping his fingers and making the snow on the branch above your head fall. You sputtered indignantly and he winked in your direction before he and his companions blinked out of existence.

Even without the assistance of magical snowballs or your team’s advantage of snowball fight experience, you and the boys were hopelessly outmatched. Each of the angels had chosen a target and attacked mercilessly, Jack on Sam, Cas on Dean, and Gabriel on you. You were painfully reminded of the two elder angels’ millennia of experience as hardened heavenly soldiers as they popped up out of nowhere, herding you and the boys away from each other so you couldn’t even have the power of numbers. You weren’t sure how the brothers were doing but you barely got a snowball in edgewise against the onslaught your assigned angel was delivering. He was everywhere at once. You’d given up on trying to return fire and simply ran for it, dodging around trees and behind bushes. He took your rule to heart and made all of the snowballs himself, but you hadn’t made a rule against his other angelic advantages and he would pop up in front of you unexpectedly, snowball at the ready. You were breathless from laughter and exertion, not to mention shivering as you were soaking wet.

You heard the sound of Gabriel’s wings behind you and you took off running from the tree you’d been sheltering by. The crunch of the snow from the footfalls behind you was getting closer and louder, you knew you’d never get away so you desperately threw yourself to the ground, swiping a handful of snow up as you fell and twisting to throw the unkempt snow pile at your attacker. He sputtered and laughed as the snow hit him squarely in the face and he tumbled down on top of you, pressing you between the snow and his warm body. There was heat and something else captivating and indescribable in his eyes as he looked at you beneath him, his eyes framed by lashes coated in tiny flakes of snow. His warm breath hit your face in bursts and the air around you shifted; you knew you were no longer in the snowball fight, players now in a different game of wills.

Your breath came out in short puffs of visible air. You wet your lips out of nervous habit and he followed the movement of your tongue with his eyes.

“I believe I’ve won,” his hoarse voice sounded quietly above you, his lips nearly brushing yours. “Do I get a prize?”

“What about the others?” You asked. He listened for a moment before replying.

“Sam is teaching Jack how to build an igloo and I think the other two have just as much a need for privacy as we do.”

You unearthed your hands from where they’d been pinned against the ground and wrapped them around his neck.

“Well then, what are we waiting for?”

A/N: I had trouble sleeping and this little ficlet was digging a hole in my skull, so here it is! I’m starting work on a potential Twelve Days of Drabbles so be on the lookout for December updates! Much love and chocolate to you all, dearies. <3

Everything Tag List: @kissofthebadwolf @eurusholmmes @ourloveisforthelovely @pensysto

Read Me on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16289405/chapters/39839133

*********************************************

You shifted in your sleep and it made the arms around you tighten in response. The added pressure woke you just enough to smile sleepily and snuggle into the warmth of the chest against your back, the remnants of your dream slipping away. A throaty chuckle, heavy with sleep, sounded near your ear and you felt a soft pair of lips press a kiss to the back of your head. The spot where his lips touched you felt warm and your thumb rubbed appreciative circles on the forearm your hand was resting on.

“Go back to sleep, Sugar. It’s barely five in the morning,” a voice like smooth honey whispered on the pillow beside you.

“Too early,” your sleep drunk voice supplied, “I’d rather be here.” You twisted around, eyes still closed, so your front was pressed against his. His arms tightened again, securing you comfortably against his body. His fingers trailed along your back and tangled absently in your hair.

“I’ll spend eternity here with you,” he said, with a kiss to your forehead. With the kiss came a wash of grace, sending you smoothly back to sleep.

You awoke to your alarm at a quarter past six. You sleepily reached for the arms you could still feel around your body but your fingers met only your own cool skin and the bedsheets. If you concentrated you could still feel the warmth the embrace had left behind. It trickled away, and you grasped at it, wanting to indulge yourself, but it was like chasing smoke. Your eyes cracked open and you turned over. Your fingers traced the untouched pillow beside you, the ethereal smell they once held almost gone. You inhaled against it deeply, trying in vain once more to commit the smell to memory although you knew it was fading, soon to be lost to the far reaches of your mind. The sheets on the right side of your bed look slightly rumpled, and you almost let yourself believe you weren’t alone in it. You shook the thought away. It’s too early. Your bed suddenly feels too large for just your small body and you quickly climb out of it anyway. You refuse to look at it as you dress for the day.

How ironic, your bed to be so cold and empty, a perfectly cruel reminder that he would never sleep beside you again. He sleeps somewhere else now, somewhere you can’t reach. You hope his dreams are sweet.