#waywarddaughterwrites

[waywarddaughterwrites]

Comfort

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

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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.”

He held you until your tears ran dry. In his embrace, you finally found sleep, blessedly dreamless.

[kissmeimadragonlord]

I got a comment today on a fic on AO3 I wrote last year that said “I still love this fic” and

Y’all

I don’t think you understand how much it means to a writer to have proof like that that your fic is so loved it has people RETURNING to read it more than once.

My fic exists out there. In someone’s mind. It’s powerful enough to make them want to read it more than once. To comment and let me KNOW they’ve read it more than once.

I could cry.

[waywarddaughterwrites]

Too Early

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.

You hope he dreams of you as much as you dream of him.

[waywarddaughterwrites]

Burnished

A/N: So, here’s the smaller one-shot I mentioned earlier today. I’ve had this thought for a while and I’ve contemplated turning it into a longer fic. We will see if that comes to anything. For now, here we go! I hope you guys enjoy it. Let me know if you’d actually be interested in a longer story! It harkens waaaay back to season 8, but ultimately it takes place in the present.

Read Me on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16289354

Everything Tag List:

@kissofthebadwolf @eurusholmmes @ourloveisforthelovely @pensysto

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

You’d never hunted a hellhound before. Sam and Dean had called you in for backup. Apparently they’d tracked one to your town. They wouldn’t tell you why they were hunting a creature of the damned, but the way they spoke about it and the determined yet somber set to their jaws when you met up with them in person said a lot. You’d hunted with them a time or two, mainly when they were in your neck of the woods, as they were now. Hunting with the brothers was both thrilling and completely exhausting. They attracted trouble like magnets and the simplest hunts were often anything but in-and-out. Things were rarely what they seemed with them and complications seemed to snowball. They were reliable, though, and incredibly skilled at their profession. The three of you had grown close over the years. They’d offered for you to come live in the bunker with them in Kansas, but you preferred your small apartment and hunting solo.

The hellhound hunt was unlike anything you’d imagined or expected it to be. Ignoring your protests they’d taken your glasses straight off of your face and—of all things—set fire to them. As Dean held them in the flames, Sam explained to you the correlation between holy fire and the ability to see ethereal creatures that were invisible to the naked human eye. You watched them burnish two pairs of glasses for themselves as well.

Sam was the one to kill the beast. It had almost come to blows between the brothers about who would be the one to do the deed. You didn’t understand why it was such an important decision, but you’d learned over the years not to question too much into what the Winchester brothers were caught up in, lest you get dragged into their world of nightmares and apocalypses. You enjoyed being a simple hunter. Werewolves and Vampires and Ghosts were your bread and butter. You would leave all of the outlandish, overwhelming demons and angels drama to the two brothers you were working with.

Speaking of, you’d gotten a hell of a shock not long after the hunt when you’d run into the boys again a year later and they’d had their angelic third wheel tagging along. Past the occasional fae flitting by, you’d forgotten over time about the special nature of your glasses and when they’d showed up on your doorstep with a man with gigantic, ash-colored wings protruding from his shoulder blades you’d nearly had a heart attack. Castiel had turned out to be a loyal friend and enjoyable to be around. You quite liked the angel.

You bought a new pair of glasses, though.

A pair of glasses that apparently had grown legs and wandered off somewhere. You were turning your apartment inside-out trying to find the glasses you’d managed to successfully lose. The boys would be here soon and you couldn’t afford not to see properly. Where the hell were they? While digging through the drawer in your nightstand, you happened across the case holding the old pair you’d replaced. It had been a few years since the hellhound hunt. Does holy fire wear off? Probably not.

bzzz

Looking at your phone, you read:

Dean W.: ETA in 30. U ready?

You glanced at the case in your hands before typing out a message back to him.

Just about. Any angels with u?

Dean’s reply was almost instant. Sam must be the one driving.

Dean W.: 2 actually. Y?

You sighed, resigning yourself to your fate.

Can’t find my good glasses. Only got the burnished ones from the hellhound thing a few years ago. Just wanna know what to prepare for.

You pocketed your phone before shoving the last couple of items in your duffle. You used the last few minutes before their arrival to put your apartment back into some semblance of order, hoping desperately that the act would somehow turn up the glasses you’d missed while tearing the room apart. No such luck, and soon the boys were knocking on your front door. You sucked in a breath, preparing yourself for a weekend with not one but two angels. Castiel’s wings were a beautiful thing to behold once you’d gotten used to their presence, but that was years ago and you knew you’d have to adjust to seeing them again. Not to mention the new angel’s wings you’d be subjected to.

You followed Sam out of your building and toward the familiar Impala sitting in the lot. Dean and his two companions started to exit the car to greet you as you approached. You ran straight to Dean and threw your arms around him the same as you’d just done to Sam. Those two had found a special place in your heart over the years. You heard two more car doors open and you steeled yourself before turning around to greet Castiel and the other angel, whom Sam had informed you was named Gabriel.

The sight before you knocked the breath out of your lungs. Castiel had explained all of those years ago why seeing his wings affected you so much: they weren’t meant for human sight beyond special circumstances. They could be a bit overwhelming. Angels on earth kept their wings tucked into a separate plane of existence, invisible and intangible to humanity. His wings had an almost holographic quality to them. You could see them with your glasses, but if you reached out to brush the feathers, your fingers went right through them. You supposed it made sense. Being invisible wasn’t much help if they were still bumping into things and getting in the way on this plane. They were as beautiful as you remembered and you let out a shakey breath as you took them in. Dean must have forewarned him of your predicament, because your friend was giving you an apologetic smile as he watched you. When you’d gotten your breathing under control, he held his arms out to you. You grinned at him and hugged him tightly. There was a comforting quality about the trench coat-clad man that you’d missed. Your eyes kept darting back to his wings over his shoulder. You didn’t know how Dean did it, seeing them every day.

“You get used to it” he had said the first time you’d seen them. He told you of the first time he’d seen them, in the barn with the lights going haywire as Castiel made his grand-dramatic entrance into the man’s life. “They’ve never been intimidating to me. They’re grandiose but they’re an extension of Cas and they’re more comforting than awe-inspiring or threatening, I guess.” You supposed it made sense. It wouldn’t do much good for an angel’s soul-mate to be constantly terrified of them.

You felt a hand on your shoulder. You started to turn, but the owner held you in place with surprising strength. A voice you didn’t recognize, but sounded like warm honey, started speaking. You could tell the other angel was feeling awkward with the situation.

“Uh, So. Before you turn around, I should warn you. Cassie here is a regular old angel, so his wings are kinda normal.” Gabriel ignored his younger brother’s indignant huff at his words. You saw his feathers ruffle as if to prove they’re anything but average. Gabriel continued on, “I’m actually an archangel. So, uh...my wings...aren’t. Normal, that is. They’re a bit...more?” You couldn’t turn around but you could practically see him scratching the back of his neck in discomfort. “I just...I...don’t be scared of me, please. I don’t think a human has ever seen my wings before.”

You nodded your assent and you felt the grip on your shoulder release. You took in a breath and slowly turned to see the other man, taller than you but shorter than Castiel, golden hair and eyes like sunshine through whiskey. You were right about his hand on his neck, and he regarded you cautiously, waiting for your reaction. You let your eyes drift upward to his—

“Holy shit.”

Six. There were six. And they were massive. He was trying to tuck them into himself, obviously shy. It didn’t do much to decrease their presence, though. They looked like spun gold. They glittered as though made of metal and the sun reflecting off of each feather gave them the illusion of emitting light themselves. The closer you looked, you saw hints of amber and tawny and a couple of colors you didn’t have words for. They were...warm. Each wing had to be at least ten feet long and six feet tall. They radiated heat. You knew you were gaping like a fish and you concentrated to bring yourself back into focus. You realized with embarrassment that you’d started unconsciously reaching your hand upward toward them, as if to touch them. Gabriel was watching your face and your hand cautiously, obviously relieved that you weren’t running screaming for the hills. Interestingly, you weren’t frightened of his wings at all, even with them being so much more than Castiel’s.

You brought your eyes down to meet his. His eyebrows raised in silent question and you beamed at him. You saw some of the tension lift from his shoulders as you smiled.

“Gabriel, your wings are incredible. I apologize for causing you discomfort, but I am truly honored to be able to see them, because...wow,” you finished rather lamely. Gabriel blushed and grinned at your praise. You couldn’t stop the thought of how endearing the blush made him look, more like a schoolboy than an almighty, ancient being.

“Well let me borrow those glasses I wanna see these ‘incredible’ wings!” Dean blurted out to your left, reaching toward you.

“Dean, don’t!” Sam protested.

“Dean-o you might want to rethink that—“

“Aw, come on, I see Castiel’s all the time, I can handle your wings.” Dean stopped beside you, hand held out expectantly. You looked toward Gabriel. It was his decision. Gabriel rolled his eyes in exasperation before nodding at you. He winked and it made your heart stutter a bit. Wings or not, he was an attractive man and charming to boot.

Sighing, you took off your glasses and handed them to Dean, who was grinning triumphantly. You watched him put on the glasses and suddenly the color ran out of his face as he blanched.

“Dean? Dean, breathe!” Castiel reprimanded his mate, reaching forward and putting his hands on his shoulders. Dean took in a shuddering breath and struggled to regain his composure, reaching up with a shaking hand and pulling the glasses off of his face.

“Y-yeah. Those are...real nice, Gabriel. Nice-good. Good wings.”

You were perplexed as you watched Dean. He started to hand the glasses back to you, but Sam’s hand intercepted them. He looked questioningly at Gabriel, obviously seeking permission to sate his own curiosity. You heard him sigh dramatically.

“Oh, go ahead Samsquatch.” He mumbled something about monkeys at a zoo before Sam put on the glasses, too. To his credit, having not seen angel wings at all before, he held his composure rather well. He was seeing not only Gabriel’s, but Castiel’s wings for the first time and you could see the muscle twitching in his now-pale face as he clenched his jaw, attempting to take them both in. Like his brother, he seemed to have stopped breathing for a moment.

“Wow,” He squeaked out in a much-too-high voice. “You both...yeah. Wings. Nice.”

What on earth? Sure, your first time seeing wings ever had been overwhelming, but it was like they both were having trouble even looking at Gabriel’s wings. You couldn’t stop admiring them, yourself. They were mammoth, but easily the most gorgeous things you’d ever seen. You glanced at Gabriel’s face. His arm had found the back of his neck again, but he looked more amused than uncomfortable. You noticed he kept sneaking glances at you and when he caught your eye he winked again and rolled his eyes in the direction of the boys. You noticed he wasn’t bothering to try and pull his wings inward anymore, either. He had them stretching out above him as if showing them off. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he’d done that just to mess with the boys. Your eyes swept from one end of his wingspan to the other end before landing back on his face. You met his eyes, which were transfixed on you, an unreadable expression on his face. His mouth had dropped open slightly and his eyes seemed to be burning into you, their look was so intense. You cinched your brow at him, confused at this sudden change in him. You felt a hand tap your shoulder and you turned away to take what Sam was offering out to you.

Your glasses.

Oh My Chuck.

Your head snapped back to the angel in front of you as you slowly put your glasses back on, his intense expression coming into clearer focus.

You suddenly became aware of the silence as your three other companions watched you and Gabriel.

“Uh...everything okay?” Dean asked, concerned at the silent exchange happening between you and the archangel. You floundered for a moment, your mouth opening and closing, trying to find words, but you were having trouble making sound. You and Gabriel hadn’t broken eye contact and the corner of Gabriel’s mouth twitched upward as he responded for you.

“Boys...things just got a lot more interesting.”

[waywarddaughterwrites]

Twelve Days of Drabbles Pt. 1

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?”

Your lips met his just as you felt the familiar swoop of being teleported out of the snow and back into the bunker.

[waywarddaughterwrites]

You guys I’ve never made a mood board before but I’m writing a Twelve Days of Drabbles and wanted to give you a taste of what I’m working on! The more I write the more excited I am about this series! See you soon! <3

[waywarddaughterwrites]

Twelve Days of Drabbles Pt. 5

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.

Laughing in disbelief and excitement, you took off after him.

[waywarddaughterwrites]

Twelve Days of Drabbles Pt. 3

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

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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.

The door closed behind you and Gabriel situated himself in the seat to your right, barely close enough for his arm to brush against yours. You weren’t sure how tonight was going to go...but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited to find out.