Imagine shovelling snow with Sam and Dean and it turns into a snowball fight.

A/n - sorry it's shorter than usual. Also, shoutout to my fellow Canadians!

Word Count: 476

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Snow. 

Some love it, some hate it. Some don't have an opinion on it. 

You, for the most part, love it. 

Except when you have to shovel the driveway. Of course, this is a chore whenever it snows, which it does often during winter. Last night, it snowed a lot, and the whole driveway is covered in white.

The thing is, it's actually warm outside. So, clad with gloves and a hoodie, you walk outside with a shovel. 

You start, and hardly make a dent in it. 

Huffing, you go back inside and find Sam and Dean sleeping in their rooms. You prod them awake and inform them of the predicament. 

Outside again, you continue shovelling. 

Soon after, the sleepy Winchester walk through the door with their own snow shovels. They start helping you, and before you know it, you're halfway done. 

You lean against the shovel handle, properly exhausted. Dean smirks, "Tired already, Y/n?" 

"No," you reply with a scoff. Overheated, you take off your hoodie, revealing the tank top beneath. 

Dean lets out a whistle, which catches Sam's attention. They both smirk at you, stopping in their tracks.

"What're you looking at?" You laugh at them, muscles burning as you toss more snow onto the heap piled at the edge of the driveway. 

"Nothing," Sam's face heats up as he goes back to the task at hand. 

"Well, I don't know about Sammy, but I was looking at you," Dean replies. 

You roll your eyes and focus on clearing the snow away. After a few more minutes of peace, a cold snowball hits your bare arm. 

"What was that for?!" You ask in outrage, whirling on Dean and Sam. 

Sam looks up in confusion, but Dean smirks, "That was for distracting me." 

Glowering, you make your own snowball and fling it into Dean's smug face. He retaliates, and soon enough a full-blown snowball war has started. 

Sam's on your side, and you both laugh as you attack Dean viciously. But, after Dean runs away in defeat, Sam turns on you.

"Sammy, how could you?!" You cry out, trying to shield yourself. 

He just laughs and pelts you with another fist of snow. 

"That's it! I surrender! White flag!" You yell, retreating to grab your hoodie. 

You pull it on and assess the driveway, still filled with snow. Shaking your head, you keep at it until the whole thing is cleared.

With a satisfactory sigh, you enter the house and kick off your boots. Then you head off to make some hot chocolate. 

The warm, delicious scent fills the place, making your mouth water. 

Sam and Dean eagerly grab the steaming mugs and all three you you sit down and enjoy it. 

"Thanks for the help guys." You say, sipping on your beverage. 

"No problem," they respond.

With a smile, you chat with them and plan out your next hunt.