Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #230 )✅️
https://gofund.me/05039d3d
Hello, I am Aya, 26 years old. I currently live in the northern besieged Gaza Strip. I am a mother of two children, my eldest daughter Sanaa, who is 5 years old, and my youngest son Wasfi, who is 3 years old.
We were displaced from our home 🏠at the beginning of the October 7 war. We were displaced to schools🏫 and relatives’ homes. We left our home under the bombing, fire belts, missiles and terrifying shells in the Zeitoun area. We did not take anything with us. We left our food, belongings and clothes and left our beautiful home. We have not returned to it until now. I appeal to everyone and ask you to help me. There is nothing. We lost everything we own, our home and my husband’s only job. My husband and I suffer daily from the problem of providing food and what we will feed our children today due to its high prices. All our food depends on canned food. My children always cry😭, wanting fruits, vegetables and eggs,🍅🍏 and my young son tells me, “Mama, I want to drink milk.🥛” I do not know how to respond to them. My young children have suffered greatly from the spread of pimples that left a disfiguring effect on their bodies, like burns. Also, The shortage of gas led us to use firewood🔥, nylon and brambles for baking and cooking.
With the arrival of winter, I do not know what to do. Even the clothes in the market are very expensive. I went to buy used clothes to warm my young children.
I hope everyone will donate even a little.i am confident that you will stand with me and support me until I achieve my goal and save my family 👩❤️👨from from the danger of war share my story. Everythings help.
Can you share some of my posts from time to time?🙏🇵🇸🇵🇸
genre: fluff, quirkless au!
warnings: arguing, Dabi has low self-esteem and self-worth, mentions of past emotional and physical abuse, cursing
prompt: cause Dabi strikes me as that kinda boyfriend, all tattoos and piercings, probably looks like an emo band frontman, heavily inspired by the song 18 by Anarbor
words: 1493
authors note: i might make a part two if anyone wants it
The drive to the restaurant was an ordeal in its own right. You were practically gnawing your fingers off in the passenger seat of Touya’s car, while he seemed calm and collected. But the anxious tapping of his long narrow fingers on your thigh gave away just how nervous he was.
“Touya, it’ll be alright.” You murmur, taking his hand in yours.
“I know. I can’t help but be a little nervous anyway.”
“I know. But no matter what, I love you.”
“Yeah yeah.” He grumbled, returning his full focus to the road ahead of him. The two of you were on your way to meet your parents for dinner. As much as you dislike your parents, you wanted them to at least meet Touya. You had a gut feeling that they weren’t going to like him; he was tall and scrawny, soft skin covered in tattoos, several silver piercings in his ears with one ring through his lip, a thick mess of soft black hair, vivid blue eyes, and a foul mouth. He was handsome in a very devil may care kind of way. But as mean and abrasive as he could be, he was gentle and sweet to you, always treating you right. Touya pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant and parked his car. As he shut the car off, he looked at you.
“Are you ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” You sigh.
“We don’t have to do this.” Touya said, putting his hand on your thigh.
“I know. But I want to.” He smiled.
“Alright, if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” He smiled, kissed your cheek, undid his seatbelt, and came around to help you out of the car. You happily led him into the restaurant, holding his hand. Your mother and father were waiting in the lobby of the restaurant.
“Hi mom, dad.”
“Hi sweetheart, I’m glad you could make it.”
“Mom, this is Touya. Touya, this is my mom.”
“It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.” He shook your mother’s hand and she was positively beaming
“It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”
“And this is my dad.” You gesture to your father, who looked unimpressed.
“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” Touya offered his hand, which your father shook with a nod of his head.
“Let’s go find a seat.” Your mother ushered you and Touya into the restaurant to a table. While you were waiting for your food, your mother happily chatted with Touya, asking about his hobbies, his family, etc. while your father mostly stayed quiet. Over dinner is when he started talking.
“So what do you do for a living Touya?” He asked bluntly.
“Well, I’m working as an electrician while I put myself through school.” He answered. You instinctively set your hand on his thigh.
“What are you in school for?”
“I’m studying to be a teacher.”
“What are you planning on teaching?”
“Music and or art of some kind.” Your father huffed, ever so subtly rolling his eyes, and continued to eat.
“There’s nothing wrong with that.” You grumble, unconsciously squeezing Toyua’s thigh.
“No, it’s just not a high-paying career.”
“Whatever.” You grunt, rolling your eyes.
“So, Touya,” Your mother started, sensing the tension between you and your father spiking. “I don’t want to sound rude, but why did you get so many tattoos?”
“Well, most of them mean something to me.” He rolled the sleeve of his dress shirt up above his elbow, revealing a portrait of a woman on the inside of his bicep. “For example, this is my mother, I lost her after my youngest brother was born.”
“That’s beautiful. She’s a very beautiful woman.” Your mother examined the image with fond eyes.
“That’s a pretty big picture.” Your father commented.
“Well, she’s very important to me.” Touya retorted, a sharp edge had crept into his tone.
“What was her name?” Your mother asked.
“Rei.” Touya answered.
“He’s got his siblings’ names tattooed on his chest and they’re so pretty.”
“What are their names?”
“Natsuo, Fuyumi, and Shoto.”
“Those are pretty names.”
“They’re a good bunch.”
“And they all could be models.” You add, digging out your phone to find a picture. “Every single one of them is so pretty.” You show a picture to your mom; it's a fairly recent photo, Fuyumi is holding the camera smiling brightly. Natsuo is on her left laughing at Shoto, on Fuyumi’s left, who’s saying something to Touya, who’s behind Fuyumi, a snarky grin on his face as he retorts.
“Oh wow. You’re all very attractive.” Your mother admits.
“Who’s this kid on the left?” Your father asks, pointing to the picture.
“That’s my baby brother, Shoto. In the middle is my sister Fuyumi, and on her right is Natsuo.”
“Natsuo looks like a big guy.”
“He’s massive. He was an athlete in high school, but he’s a big softie.” Touya explained.
“Did you play sports Touya?” Your father asked.
“Not really in high school but when I was younger I did.”
“What made you choose that?”
“I just preferred the arts I guess.”
“Do you have a medium of choice?”
“Not really, if I can get my hands on it I’ll use it. But I definitely like watercolor.”
“Can I see some of your work?” Your mother asked, curiously.
“I’ve got a picture of some cherry blossoms he did almost a month ago.”
“Those weren’t even that good.” Touya mumbled, his cheeks tinted a soft pink.
“Hush, I think they’re beautiful. Here.” You turn your phone toward your mother, showing her the piece.
“Oh, those are lovely!” Your mother gasps.
“See? What have I been telling you?”
“Oh hush.” Touya grumbled playfully, wrapping you in his arms and planting a sloppy kiss on your cheek. You giggled, shoving at him playfully. Dinner went on for roughly another hour, when the check came you immediately reached into your bag for your card.
“Sweetheart, I can get it.” Touya mumbled, reaching into his pocket for his wallet.
“I’ve got it Touya.”
“Everything alright over there?” Your father asked, card already on the table with his check.
“Yes. Touya, I said I’d get it.” You try to snatch his wallet from his hands.
“I’m not gonna let you do that.”
“Can you even afford it?” Your father sneered. Touya froze, one hand gently closed around your wrist, the other holding his wallet. You could see the instantaneous change in Touya’s demeanor; his jaw clenched, his blue eyes looked away from you, any playful gleam vanishing in an instant.
“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?” He growled, setting his card with the check. You were too stunned to argue with him.
“I don’t mean to be offensive, but you’re an electrician.”
“Yeah, and I’m a damn good one. Better than you stuck in a job you hate for your entire adulthood.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, I do. I know you hate your job because of how you treated your kid.” Touya nodded at you. “Newsflash asshole; you aren’t the only shitty father in the world.” He tugged his collar to the side, revealing two of many cigarette burns.
“I am not a bad father.” His argument fell flat in the face of Touya’s bitter retort.
“Funny, my old man says the same thing. He beat me, both of my brothers, my mother, and on occasion my sister.” He snarled. “Excuse me, babe. I’m gonna wait in the car.” You scrambled out of the booth, letting Touya, who stormed out of the restaurant, out.
“Why the hell would you say that?” You snap, sitting back down.
“He’s not good enough for you.”
“And how the hell do you know what’s good for me? You haven’t had a meaningful conversation with me since I was twelve!”
“That’s not true.” He started, but you angrily cut him off.
“Yes, it is! Every conversation I remember is you degrading and yelling at me!”
“Now, that’s not entirely fair.” Your mother chimed in.
“And you enabled him! You let him do and say whatever he liked.” You quiet down as the server returns with your checks. “We’re done here. I don’t give a shit if you don’t like Touya, I love him and he makes me happy.” You take the receipt and Touya’s card and storm out to the car, where Touya was sitting in the driver’s seat, nursing a cigarette. You come around to the driver’s side door, fling it open and immediately reach for his face.
“Are you okay?” You whisper, disliking the distant look in his eyes.
“‘M fine. Do you wanna head home?”
“Touya please talk to me. Something’s wrong.”
“‘M fine. Hop in.” He turned to face the steering wheel, signaling that the conversation would have to wait. You quietly hop into the passenger side, Touya tossed his cigarette to the pavement and started the car. The drive back to your apartment was worse than the drive to the restaurant.
Genre: fluff, slight angst
Warnings: vague mentions of a case, but nothing specific
Prompt: Spencer has a tough case, it’s one of few to follow him home
Words: 947
note: hi y’all! sorry i didn’t update for a while, i just got super unmotivated (and a tad depressed, but it’s fine) but i’m back for the time being! i hope you enjoy! xoxo g
You walked to the front door, making sure it was locked before walking back through the apartment turning off the kitchen light and the bathroom lights before going back into your room. Your phone rang on the nightstand, Penelope Garcia’s contact lighting up the screen.
“Hey, Penny. What’s up?”
“Just wanted to let you know the team will be back at Quantico in fifteen.”
“Thanks. How’s Spence?”
“I think he’s okay.”
“You sure? I heard this case was pretty tough.”
“I’m not one hundred percent sure, but he will be okay. He’s strong like that.”
“Yeah, but I can’t help but worry, ya know?”
“Hey, we all worry about him. You both have a family here and we love you both.”
“Thanks, Penny.” You heard someone call far from the phone.
“You’re back early.” Penny chuckled to her guest. “It’s Y/N.”
“Hey, sweetheart!”
“Hi, Derek. You’re early.”
“Don’t sound so disappointed.”
“Where’s Spencer?”
“He’s leaving the building now I think. He went straight to his car.”
“How is he?”
“All things considered, I think he’ll be fine. But maybe show him a little TLC when he gets back, ‘kay?”
“I will. How’re you, Morgan?”
“I’ve been worse.”
“Was the case that bad?”
“It could have been a lot worse.”
“That doesn't really answer my question, but I guess I’m not going to get a better answer.” Derek laughed softly.
“No, you will not.”
“Fine.” Your phone buzzed with a text from Spencer. “I gotta go, Derek, talk to you guys later?”
“Absolutely sweetheart, good night.” You hung up the phone and opened the text from Spencer.
genius baby: Just got back, on my way home now.
Me: Okay, drive safe. I love you
You opened one of your food delivery apps and ordered Spencer’s favorite and something for yourself. You got out a clean set of Spencer’s pajamas and changed the sheets to a new clean set, with even a clean fluffy blanket. You popped a bag of popcorn and queued up as much Doctor Who and Star Trek as you could find. You heard keys jingle in the door and you lifted the rescue cat you and Spencer had adopted, which he had lovingly named Spock because he was missing chunks out of both of his ears, into your arms to greet Spencer at the door.
“I’m back.” Spencer called weakly.
“Hey, there’s my favorite profiler.” You put the arm that wasn’t holding the cat around the back of Spencer’s neck in a hug.
“Hey, I missed you. And you too Spock.” Spencer gave you a kiss on the cheek and took Spock from your arms.
“I’ve got dinner on the way. I got your favorite.” You followed Spencer into the living room.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to. Penelope called before the team got back to headquarters, she said the case was pretty hard on you.” Spencer glanced down at his knees, stroking Spock’s head absently.
“It was.” His voice came out small, cracking slightly.
“You don’t have to tell me about it, but know that I’m here for you.”
“Thank you.”
“Now, I found as much Doctor Who and Star Trek as I could physically find. I’ve got clean PJs on the bed for you, and yes I changed the sheets. I read somewhere that having clean clothes and sheets helps you sleep, especially if you’re clean too. So if you want to go shower while we wait for dinner to get here, feel free.” Spencer nodded, letting Spock hop off of his lap. “And if there’s anything else I can do for you, just let me know.”
“There’s one thing.”
“Name it.”
“Can you kiss me?” The way he asked it made your heartbreak.
“Of course, baby.” You crossed the room, sat on the sofa next to him, and pulled his face to yours gently. Spencer gripped your hands pressed against his face like it was the only thing he had. “Better?” You ask when you pulled away, still cradling his face.
“Much. Thank you. I’m going to clean up, okay?”
“Alright. Dinner won’t be too much longer, but take your time.” Spencer nodded and went into your shared room, and not long after you heard the shower running. You heard a knock on the front door and, upon looking through the peephole, opened it for your food.
“Thank you. Here’s a tip.”
“Thank you. You have a nice night.”
“Thanks again, drive safe.” You took the bag of food into the kitchen as the water in the bathroom stopped.
“Hey, Spencer? Dinner just got here.” You called from just outside your bedroom door.
“I’ll be right out.” He called back. True to his word, Spencer emerged from the bedroom, looking slightly more relaxed than he had before showering.
“You feel better?” You ask from the couch, happily eating your dinner.
“A little, yes. Thank you for doing this.” Spencer said softly as he sat next to you.
“It’s no problem. I gotta do whatever I can to help out my favorite profiler.” You ruffle his hair and kiss him on the cheek. “Now, pick whatever you want to watch.”
“But you don’t like Doctor Who.”
“Wrong, my darling. I don’t understand it most of the time, but it’s a good show otherwise. Not to mention you’re very cute when you’re explaining things to me.”
“So it’s okay if we watch it?”
“Of course.”
“Can you hold me? Once I’m done eating anyway.”
“Of course, handsome.”
“Wait, you said I was your favorite profiler. I’m not you’re favorite FBI agent?”
“Sorry, baby, Penny has you beat on that score.”
“Okay, she’s the only person I’ll accept second place from.”
Genre: fluff
Warnings:
Prompt: “Imagine Cas dorking out over a religious section in an art museum.” by @supernaturalimagine (which can be found here)
Words: 567
“Cas? Did you hear me?” The seraph startled in his seat, blinking his wide blue eyes at you.
“I apologize, I did not. What were you saying?”
“It’s okay, I was just asking if you wanted to go to the Wichita art museum with me? They just got a bunch of new paintings and such in.”
“I’d love to accompany you. When do we go?”
“Whenever you want, baby.”
“Alright.”
“I’ll go let Dean know we’re going.” Cas nodded, getting up to follow you.
“Hey, Dean!” You poke your head into the older Winchester’s room. “Cas and I are gonna run up to Wichita for a couple of days. That okay?”
“Yeah, what are you two gonna do?”
“I saw an art museum exhibit that I thought Cas might like.”
“How long will you two be gone?”
“A couple of days at the most.”
“Alright, keep in touch.”
“Will do, see you in a couple of days.” You jog to your room. “Cas, pack a bag, we’ll leave in thirty minutes.” The seraph grabbed his duffle bag and started tossing clothes and hygiene products.
“You all packed up?”
“I think so, yes.” Cas takes your duffle bag from you and follows you to your truck in the garage.
“Where are you two off to?” Sam asked, lifting his head out of Baby’s engine compartment.
“Cas and I are going up to Wichita for a couple of days.”
“Are you two hunting?”
“No, we’re heading to the art museum up there.”
“Alright, drive safe and call if you need us.” Sam nodded in understanding.
“We will.” You gave Sam a hug before loading yours and Cas’ bags into the back seat of your truck.
“You ready?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Alright.” You started the engine while Cas pressed the button to open the garage door. The drive to Wichita didn’t feel nearly as long as it was, mostly because Cas took over driving in the middle of the night and drove the rest of the way.
“I’ll check us in.” You make your way toward the office, your bag slung over your shoulder.
“Hello, how can I help you?” Asked the young woman behind the counter.
“I need a room.”
“Name?”
“Janet and Alex Smith.”
“One king or two queens?”
“One king, please.”
“Cash or card.”
“Cash.”
“How long will you be staying?”
“Just a couple of nights.”
“That’ll be 88.50.” You hand her some cash, and she hands you a room key in exchange.
“I hope you enjoy your stay.”
“Thank you.” You head back out to where Cas was standing by the car.
“We’re upstairs, number 4.” You and Cas dropped your bags on the bed.
“Settle in, and I get on buying the tickets for tomorrow.” Cas nodded and started changing into more comfortable clothes.
“Tickets are bought. Now, I’m going to get some sleep.” You hold out your hand for Cas.
“You know I don’t sleep.”
“Yes, come on.” Cas smiled and took your hand and let you lead him to the bed.
“When do we need to be up?”
“By at least ten.”
“Alright, I’ll make sure you’re up.”
“Thanks, Cas.” You nodded off quickly, and Cas made sure you were up by ten.
“No matter what we see today, you’ll be infinitely better,” Cas said as you entered the museum. “Although, the art is impressive.”
Prompt: “I thought I lost you” kisses by @lumosinlove + patching up a wound
Genre: fluff, tiny angst
Warnings: one swear word, mentions of an injury, mentions of blood, Cas being big sad TM
Words: 781
“Cas?” You called, leaning heavily against the wall. There was no reply.
“Cas?!” You shout, pushing off from the wall, stumbling over the dead demons at your feet. “Shit,” you seethe, putting pressure on the deep slash in your leg, but on you went, leaning heavily against the grimy walls to stay upright.
“Cas?! Sam? Dean?” You cry as loud as you dare. You think you hear footsteps not far from you, but unable to tell who’s or what, you ignore them, but your grip on your angel blade tightened.
“Y/N?” You hear Cas shout. He sounded close, his footfalls getting slowly louder.
“Cas!” You sigh in relief, walking toward the noise. Around the corner bounded the seraph in the dirty trench coat, blue eyes flashing alertly, and you couldn’t think of a time where you were happier to see the filthy thing.
“Y/N.” He breathes out, his broad shoulders relaxing slightly at the sight of you. Behind him were Sam and Dean, just as scraped up as you were. Cas crossed the short distance to you wordlessly and pulled you in for a suffocating kiss, arms wound tightly around you. You leaned your full weight against him, twisting the coat under your hands. He pulled his lips away from yours, breathing hard, tears pricking the edges of his vibrant blues.
“It’s ok.” You pant, rubbing your thumbs over his cheeks.
“I know.” He whispered back, gripping your elbows gently.
“Let’s get out of here, yeah?” Dean asked quietly. You nod, still cradling Cas’s face.
“Can you walk on that leg?” Sam asked.
“Probably will need a little help.” You admit, letting Cas move your arm over his shoulder to brace you.
“I’ve got them,” Cas said. “It’s gonna be alright.” He murmured, against the shell of your ear.
“I know, baby.” Cas went first, helping you hobble out to the impala, followed by Sam and Dean, who covered your backs. You slid across the back seat letting Cas slide in behind you, while Sam and Dean got in the front. At some point during the drive, you passed out against Cas’s side. You woke up in the Bunker infirmary, your head feeling fuzzy.
“Y/N?” Cas’s rumbling voice swam through your head.
“Angel?” You winced. A warm hand slipped into yours, and you squeezed gently.
“Yes, I’m here.” Cas whispered. You heard heavy footfalls not far from where you were.
“How’re you doing?” Dean’s gruff voice spoke in tandem with a weight settling on the left side of your bed.
“I feel ok, Dean.”
“Ya know, Cas has hardly moved since we got you in here.” The teasing edge in his voice didn’t go unnoticed.
“Sounds about right.” You chuckle.
“Well, I’ll leave you lovebirds to it.” Dean patted your knee gently and his footsteps receded. Cas sat quietly, most likely running his hands through his hair.
“Cas, what’s the matter, baby?” Cas sighed.
“I should have been more careful. If I’d kept my eye on you, those demons would have never gotten their hands on you.”
“Cas, you can’t blame yourself for that. I’m fine, see. All in one piece.”
“I thought I lost you…” Cas whispered, choking on the end of his sentence for a moment. “When we were swarmed, I tried to stay close, to keep you in my sights. Then it was all over and you were gone… I thought…” He hung his head, inhaling deeply and exhaling shakily, his soft messy hair falling in his eyes.
“Oh, my angel. Look at me.” You sit up as best as you could, pulling Cas’s face to look at you. His bright blue eyes were glossy and tired, leaning into your touch heavily. “You can’t blame yourself for that. I was outnumbered, and they figured I’d be easier to finish off separated from Sam, Dean and you particularly. They were just trying to follow a strategy. It’s not your fault. Ok? I need you to understand that.”
“I’m an angel. It’s my purpose to protect and to serve, and if I can’t protect my beloved…”
“Cas… stop that. I mean it, it’s not your fault.” You press a warm kiss to his forehead. “Say it for me.”
“It is not my fault.” Cas mumbled.
“Just a little louder, baby.”
“It is not my fault.” The seraph spoke in a quivering but clearly audible voice.
“That’s more like it.” You patted the bed next to you, and Cas carefully climbed up next to you, laying his head in your lap.
“I love you.” Cas mumbled, looking tiredly up at you from your lap. You smiled sweetly, running your fingers through his hair.
genre: fluff
Prompt: literally this is only to indulge myself
Warnings: mentions of a nightmare, mention of guns, tiny, utterly minuscule amount of swearing
Words: 1621
“It feels good to stretch my legs.” You sigh, swinging your legs out of Baby’s passenger door.
“Preaching to the choir, sweetheart.”
“Want to get some grub before we check-in?”
“How about you go run and grab some, and I’ll check us in.” Dean handed you a wad of cash.
“Fine. What do you want me to grab?”
“You know what I like, surprise me.” Dean ruffled your hair and went into the main office for the motel. You climbed into the driver’s seat, kicked Baby’s engine back on and rumbled to the diner you had seen on the way in.
“How can I help you hon?” Asked the kind-looking older woman behind the counter.
“Two of the doubles with cheese, a side of onion rings and two sides of fries, please,” You notice the pie rack next to you. “What kind of pie do you have?”
“We’ve got cherry, french silk, and peach.”
“Give me a slice of cherry too.”
“Will that be all for you, sweetheart?”
“Yes, thanks.”
“That’ll be $35.76.” You hand the woman an even forty dollars and sit down on one of the empty barstools to wait for the food. Your phone buzzed in your pocket; it was Dean.
“What’s up?”
“I’m in our room.”
“Good. The food will be ready in a second.”
“Well, one thing about the room… um,” Dean sighed heavily. “There’s only one bed.” You felt your stomach turn and your heart stop in your throat.
“That’ll be ok.”
“You sure?”
“Dean, we’ve known each other since we were little, I am more than comfortable around you.” Dean chuckled on the other end of the phone.
“Alright, get back as quick as you can do we can unpack.”
“I’m heading back now.” You mouth a quick thank you to the woman, take the bag of food and head out the door of the diner.
“Drive safe.”
“Yeah yeah, whatever you say, old man.” You chuckle at the distressed sound Dean makes and hang up the phone. You pull back into the parking lot of the motel and cut the engine. Dean appeared in the door of one of the many rooms and came out to help unload the gear.
“Food is in the front seat, by the way.”
“I’ll grab that after we get the bags inside.”
“Wow, Dean Winchester not immediately diving for the food? Who are you?”
“I call it being considerate.”
“Didn’t realize you were capable of such a thing.” Dean swatted your arm.
“You paint me as such an asshole.”
“You have your moments.” You haul your bag onto your shoulder and head into the room.
“What can I say?”
“For the sake of my ears, hopefully, nothing.” You rolled your eyes and plopped your bag onto the foot of the bed.
“Wow, harsh.” Dean’s bag followed suit with a thump.
“You love me, now dig in.” You set the bag of food on the table and begin unloading it.
“There are onion rings, fries and I got you some pie.”
“Pie?”
“Yes, cherry. I saw the rack and thought you’d like some.” You shrug, opening the carry-out box with your burger in it.
“You are my favorite human being,” Dean spoke with his mouth full of burger.
“Yeah yeah.”
“I’m serious.” He interjected, sliding the box of pie toward himself. You roll your eyes affectionately and open your burger. You and Dean ate in silence, occasionally batting at each other over the fries.
“Dean! Quit taking all of the fries!” You whine, reaching to swipe the box. Dean stubbornly slid the box into his lap.
“Dean put the box back on the table.” Dean shook his head, his mouth full of fries.
“You’re an asshole.” You open the onion rings and take a bitter chunk out of one before picking up your phone.
“Hey, Sam!”
“Hey, did you two make it ok?”
“Yeah, we’re eating dinner now.”
“Good. And you’re going to talk to the police tomorrow morning?”
“Yes, Sam. That was the plan. And I already have tuned into the local police scanner.”
“Okay. I’m going to hit the hay, call if you two need anything.”
“Alright, goodnight Sam.”
“Goodnight.” Sam hung up the phone and you started cleaning up the mess from dinner.
“I’m going to get in the bathroom and change unless you need to use it first.”
“No, you go ahead.” Dean opened his bag and pulled out a t-shirt and old shorts. You nod and grab your own bag. The bathroom, small for even a room of this size, was poorly lit by a single fluorescent lightbulb above the mirror. You brushed your teeth and washed your face, and ran a comb through your hair. You spat out the toothpaste and looked at yourself in the mirror.
“You can do this. It’s just sleeping in the same bed as Dean. You’ve done this a hundred times before. You’re a grown-up, you’re not twelve, you can do this.” You huff, grab your bag and grab the door handle.
“I’m coming out, Dean.” You announce before unceremoniously swinging the door open. Dean was standing at the foot of the bed in the t-shirt and was just pulling his shorts up over his hips.
“Which side do you want?”
“I guess the right side. Just don’t hog the blankets.” Dean laughed sleepily. You wormed under your side of the covers, feeling the warmth radiating off of Dean’s side. You drifted off not long after the bedside lamp was turned off, but around maybe two in the morning, you were woken up by a quiet whimper. You take your gun from the night table and sit up. Next to you, Dean turned over restlessly, mumbling incoherently.
“Dean?” You whisper, setting your gun back down. Another drawn-out whimper sounded from Dean’s throat.
“No.” He groaned his eyebrows furrowing.
“Dean, you’re dreaming.” Dean tossed a little bit more, landing with his back to you.
“Dean.” You gently place your hand on the curve of his ribs. His green eyes flashed open, bright with terror, snatching his gun from under his pillow in record time.
“Dean. Holy shit, are you okay?” You move his gun away from your face. He was breathing hard, eyes wide.
“I… I don’t know.” He squeaked, starting to tremble as the adrenaline wearing off. You leaned over and clicked on the bedside lamp. Dean was covered in a thin layer of sweat, his face flushed a warm pink, and he blinked harshly in the sudden light.
“Was it another nightmare?” Dean nodded slowly. “Do you want to talk about it?” Dean shook his head again. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Can you hold me?” Dean, someone you had always perceived as a strong individual, had never sounded smaller or more vulnerable to you.
“Ok.” You laid back down against the pillows and rolled onto your side. Dean laid down facing you, and carefully nuzzled into you; his face buried in your neck, arms wound tightly around your middle. One of your hands carded slowly through his hair and the other rubbed large circles on his back. You weren’t sure of when you two fell asleep again, but when you woke up, with warm morning light pouring in through a small crack in the drawn curtains, Dean was still clinging to you.
“Dean.” You whisper, smiling fondly at the top of his messy hair. He grunted in his sleep.
“Dean we’ve got to get up.”
“Five more minutes.”
“Dean. Now.”
“Fine. I’m up.” He groaned, rolling dramatically onto his back.
“For someone who slept so well, you’re cranky.” Dean gave you a look and you immediately backed off, going into the bathroom to clean up and get into your Fed disguise. You came out of the bathroom and Dean was working his tie into place.
“Bathroom’s open.” You say setting your bag on the table to fish out your ID.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. I’ll wait in the car.” You stepped out of the motel room and climbed into the passenger seat. Dean came out of the room, double-checking the lock, and got in the car. When he got buckled in, he sat completely still, gripping the steering wheel with his eyes squeezed shut.
“Dean?”
“I love you.” Dean spat the words out so fast that they zipped by your ears.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” Dean sighed and opened his eyes.
“Forget it, it doesn’t matter.” He reached to start the engine, but you caught his wrist.
“Of course it matters, dipshit.”
“I love you.” Dean looked directly into your eyes, saying the words at a comprehensible speed this time. You sat stunned, unable to say a word for a good few seconds, your heart had stopped in your throat again.
“I shouldn’t have said anything. But last night made me realize just how much I need you. I need to have you next to me when I fall asleep and I need you to be there when I wake up and I need you to stay.” Dean blabbered nervously.
“Dean, I love you too.” You say quietly, effectively silencing his rambling.
“Seriously?”
“Like a heart attack!” You chuckle at the deer in the headlights look Dean was giving you. “I thought I was painfully obvious.”
“I didn’t realize…” Dean trailed off, looking embarrassed.
“It’s okay, really. Besides, you’re really cute when you’re confused.” You kiss his stubbly cheek and laugh.
“You’re lucky you’re so damn cute.” Dean gently held your chin and pecked you on the lips.
“Correction: you’re lucky I’m so damn cute.” Dean laughed.
“Damn right I am. Now, are you ready to do our jobs?” Dean paused to kiss your forehead before starting the engine.
63. Wendy’s or McDonalds chicken nuggets? 72. Starbucks or Dunkin? 83. Regular or golden Oreos? 97. Dark, milk, or white chocolate? And yes, I did all the food asks. Food is very important 😂
Lmao I love this hoe
63. McDonalds chicken nuggets. Blame all the meals on wheels to and from soccer practice as a munchkin. 🤷♀️
