— Sam and Dean have to watch their best friend die over and over again everyday.
Tell me a story
— Dean has trouble sleeping at night
My wife, even better
— Dean can’t stop talking about you, his wife.
Better than nothing
— You and Castiel work together to help make Deans birthday cake.
Strange human emotions
— Castiel has been experiencing some rather strange emotions, especially ones that revolve around you.
Said, I was sorry
— You’re pissed at Dean, and Sam and Bobby find it amusing.
Five more minutes
— Dean gets to spend the morning with you
It’s a scream, baby
— Dean and you discuss what the best Horror film is
Privacy privilege
— Dean had started to invade your privacy more often after a hunt
Baby face
— You start to get upset when Dean decides to shave off his beard
It’s scented… right?
— The boys help shop for all you feminine products while you are away
Summary: Dean gets to spend the morning with you
Word count: 0.4k
A/n: Lowkey, I love this one, hope you guys enjoy ;)
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Sun filtered through the cheap motel curtains, filling the room with its earthy glow. Dean had been up for hours. Basking in the feel of your body pulled tightly against his own. It was almost heavenly.
God, you were so pretty. He would think to himself, arms ever so slightly tightening themselves around your waist. You looked so young when you were relaxed, so innocent. It made Dean just want to protect you from the outside world.
But he knew he couldn’t do that. He knew that when you’d wake up, you’d go back to be in the badass hunter that you were. The one who pretended to not be afraid of anything and tried to protect the ones you loved.
And Dean loved that side of you, he’d cherish it every time he saw it. But, when you relax and let the world and all its bullshit problems escape from you, that’s when Dean would step in. That’s when Dean would protect you like he does Sam, he would worry and shield you away from danger if he could. If that meant you would be sweet and innocent as you were now.
He lifted a hand, tugging it up to pull a few pieces of stray hairs from your face. Fingers gracing the your soft skin gently before he retracted his hand. You slowly rustled against his touch, eyes squinting against the gently lit room before nuzzling back into your previous position.
The sound of his brother slowly waking caught his attention, Dean knew that he’d have to wake you up as well. Force you out of bed and out into the world of hunting. So, he pulled you closer, his head coming to rest on top of yours as he just listened to you breath for now.
Happy and content that you were at peace for just a little while longer. That he would get to have this moment with you for just a couple more seconds.
“Dean?” Sam’s voice called from his bed, voice groggy and ruff from just waking up.
“Yeah?”
“We gotta get up.” He told him, the sound of covers being thrown meeting Deans ears.
He just hummed in acknowledgment, allowing him a few more seconds to soak in your unaware presence. The smell of your body wash and old perfume, consuming his senses as he laid there. “Just give me five more minutes.”
Five more minutes, to take in the feel of your skin against his own.
Five more minutes, to bask in your beauty.
Five more minutes, to feel like he can actually protect you from the world that they live in.
Five more minutes, to for him to realize that he can’t live without you beside him.
Five more minutes, to realize just how much he truly loved you.
Summary: You’re pissed at Dean, and Sam and Bobby find it amusing.
Word count: 0.9k
A/n: Once more not my favorite, but still hope you guys enjoy :)
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The silence you gave off aggravated Dean to a higher level. And he didn’t know how to fix it. He’d apologized, tried to cheer you up with a slice of pie, he even listened to both Sam and Bobby on how he could make it up to you.
But to no avail, you barely spoke to the poor man.
He knew it was his fault, anyone could have told him that. In fact you reminded him plenty of times on the ride back from the case. God, that ride back to Bobby’s was dreadful, you made Sam sit in the backseat and wouldn’t even let Dean turn his music up all the way either.
But, he would take that as punishment, if that would mean you would speak to him again.
“So,” Bobby started, voice low as he watched you leave the small library of his. “What did you do to her?”
Sam bit back a laugh, hand coming up to his his smile from his brother. “Shut up.” Dean told him, hands coming up to rub his face. The long quiet drive back having drained his battery. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Bobby leaned against the desk, arms crossed over the other as he stared at the younger man. “What do you mean, ‘I don’t want to talk about it’? She’s barley looked or even spoken to you since you’ve been here. Now, what the hell did you do?”
“I- I messed up on the hunt, ok.” He finally told him, head hanging low for a second before meeting the man’s eyes again. “We were hunting the shapeshifter, and we were lead to an old drinking well out at a farm.”
Dean let out a deep sigh before continuing, “And you know Sam and I were to big and too heavy to go down the well, so Y/n had to do it.”
“So you, what? Forced her down the well, threw her down?”
“No.” Dean muttered, slowly pacing the small library. “No, we tied a rope around her and we hoisted her up and over into the well, and-“
“We?” Sam asked, a playful smile dancing across his lips. “I think I went back to the farm house and tried to find the shapeshifter.”
“Ok, then, I hoisted her up and into the well.” He corrected, shooting an annoyed look at his brother. “And it was going great, I had a firm grip on the rope, she didn’t slip. But…”
Bobby quirked an eyebrow, “But?”
“But, we found the rope in an old shed, and as I was lowering her down the well, I saw- I felt a uh.” Dean lowered his voice, embarrassment seeping its way into his body. “A spider.”
“A what?”
“A spider.” Dean told him a bit louder.
Bobby looked between both Dean and his brother, taking in the shame one had and the other trying to hold in his laughter. “Dean, what did you do?”
“I let go of the rope, by accident.”
A chuckle forced its way past his lips, a hand coming up to hide his ever growing smile. “So, what your telling me is that you dropped Y/n down a water well, because you saw a spider?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” Dean tried to defend himself, his tone rising as both Sam and Bobby erupted into fits of laughter. “It crawled up my hands, got under my shirt. It was gonna bite me.”
“She had to ride the whole way here in soggy clothes, because we didn’t bring any dry clothes with us.” Sam told Bobby,
Bobby laughed a bit more at the younger man actions, a hand coming up to wipe away at his eyes. “Look kid, just be nice to her, she’ll have to forgive you sooner or later.” He told Dean, keeping his voice low as he heard you make your way back to them.
You came back with three beers in hand, passing two off to both Sam and Bobby before opening your own. Dean held out his hand expecting you to place a glass bottle in it for him, but just watched as you sit behind the desk taking slow deliberate sips of your drink.
“I would like a beer.” Dean told you, hand coming back down to rest by his side.
“Ran out.” You told him bluntly, flicking through a book that sat on top the desk.
Dean pulled his lips into a thin line, dodging both Sam and Bobby’s eyes. “What do we have?” He asked, needing something to quench his thirst.
You looked up at the older man, pretending to ponder the question. “We have water.”
“Then can I have water?” A cough came from his side, glancing over he caught Bobby and Sam giving him a look. “Please?”
A sigh left your lips before you got up once more, disappearing past the doorway and into the kitchen. “See,” Bobby told him, taking a quick sip of his beer. “Just be a little nice and she’ll forgive you in no time.”
You retured quickly, placing a cup onto the bookshelf next to Dean. Reaching over he picked up the cup, twisting it in front of him, a small scowl resting on his face as he faced you. “This is ice, Y/n.”
“Yep.” You told him, returning to your seat.
“I asked for water.”
“You can wait.”
Dean let out a sigh, placing the cup back onto the bookshelf, “I can wait.”
Summary: Castiel has been experiencing some rather strange emotions, especially ones that revolve around you.
Word count: 1.7k
A/n: No one really writes about Cas, and it’s a shame because him, Sam and Dean are my absolute favorite. But I hope you enjoy ;)
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He could feel it coming up again, that same burning feeling in his chest that keeps him up deep into the night. Not that he can sleep to begin with, but still the feeling invaded his every thought as he waited for you and the brothers to wake up.
Cas didn’t know how to explain it, these strange human emotions that he had learned over the years, he didn’t understand them. He knew the ones that you and the boys had taught him, how it helped him learn to express how he felt to others. And he was truly grateful for it.
But, the ones that he was never taught always worried him. Like when he could feel when someone is staring at him, even though nobody is in the room with him. Or even worse when you are near, or when you touch his shoulder when you walk past him, or how about when you speak to him so beautifully that he feels his stomach churning into a weird fluttery feeling.
There must be something wrong, Cas would conclude, pacing the bunker’s library in the dead of night. Maybe you had been taken over by a shapeshifter and this was the universes way of warning him.
Yeah, that had to be it, but how would he tell Sam and Dean that? For Chucks sake you are one of their closest friends, how could he tell them that they would need to kill you?
No. No, he couldn’t kill you. He just needs to figure it out a bit more by morning, he couldn’t just go on a killing spree. It wouldn’t be right.
But if you were in danger or you are the danger then he would need to speak to the brothers about this. But, how?
Cas sat across from you and Dean, Sam to his right of the booth as he stared out the fogged window. The falling snow momentarily capturing his attention, the way each flake was built uniquely different from the other.
It amazed him how something so beautiful could end up in a world like this.
“Hey, Happy meal.” Dean suddenly spoke up, dragging Cas away from the window. “You gonna focus, or are we gonna have to tell you while we fight the sons of a bitches?”
“I’m focused.” Cas told the older man, his hands coming to rest in his lap.
“Mhm, yeah sure.”
Sam cleared his throat, turning his computer to face the others as he began to explain the current case to them. “So, Sophia Cocklen had reported her husband missing, nearly a month ago. And as of three days ago both her brother and eldest son have disappeared as well.”
“Has to have something to do with the men,” you spoke up, dipping a French fry in your ketchup before popping it in your mouth. “Because Sophia’s sister, mother and two daughters hadn’t been touched at all over the past month.”
Sam nodded, clicking on another tab as some police reports popped on screen. “That’s what I thought as well, but the thing is that none of them have any bad records on there name. And…”
Sams voice seemed to drift off, running farther and farther from his ears as the same burning feeling began to arise from his chest. He glanced at you for a quick second, the way you looked at your work and took it seriously. The way your eyes seemed to have a small sparkle in them when you spoke.
And especially the way your hair slightly fell in front of your eyes, hiding that sparkle that made his stomach erupt. It made him want to reach over the table and push it out of your way, just so he could catch another glimpse of…
You pushed your hair out of your face, halting Cas’s thoughts completely. Why was he thinking that? What were you and the boys talking about? Why did his body’s vessel feel so warm and sweaty? Was it getting hotter? What if you had turned evil? What if this was your way to slowly kill him off?
Him. Castiel, an angel of the Lord. Struck down by a woman that was more than likely possessed by a monster.
“Cas?” You questioned, facing the angelic being who seemed to be almost in a trance. “You alright? You look like your sweaty.”
Cas pulled at the collar of his trench coat, the feeling of sweat sliding down his neck. Boy, did he hate how the human body can physically act when you don’t need it to.
“Yes,” He told you rubbing his hands against his pants legs. “Yes I’m fine it’s just a little warm in here is all.”
“Really?” Dean asked, taking a quick sip from his lukewarm coffee. “It’s pretty cold in here to me, what about you Sam? Y/n?”
“Dean.”
“I’m just saying, you gotta focus in, Cas. You’ve been acting real edgy for the last couple of weeks.”
“I’m fine,” Cas told him, trying not to drag the situation down the rabbit hole. “It’s probably just… allergies.”
The boys and you shred a quick look with one another, knowing well enough that angels don’t have allergies. “Cassie?” You questioned leaning forward onto the table. “You don’t get allergies.”
Cas felt his face warm up, “That was just the first thing that came to mind.” He told you, his fingers fiddling with one another. “That’s what you all do.”
Dean smacked his lips, letting out a quick ok before continuing with his conversation. “As I was saying we need to go and search every place that these men where last seen at. And normally I would say go by ourselves to save them, but I’m not so sure what we are up against just yet. So Sam and I will head down to the bar the brother was last seen and Cas, you and Y/n can go and search the junkyard.”
Everyone agreed to Deans order, quickly finishing up their lunch before they need to head back out. Well almost everyone agreed. Cas sat there in his seat, pondering if he should pull Dean or Sam aside and ask if these feelings he is getting about you is bad or good. Because he does not want to harm others but at the same time he didn’t want to hurt you either.
He wanted to beat his head against the table, the thoughts that raced through his mind aggravated him. But what could he do about it? Wait… you and him were going to the junkyard to search for clues of the missing family members, he himself could interrogate you there. But, how?
༺═────────────═༻
At the junkyard, you and Cas kept you voices low, barley speaking a word to one another as you inspected the place. Your flashlight shined about the place, scoping out any and all items that could appear useful for the case.
“So, Sam said that the dad and son used to work here. Almost like a father-son business, you know?” You told him, shining the light in the angels direction, mindful not to blind him in the eye.
He nodded, unable to stop the fluttery filling the further he walked with you. It was killing him, he wanted to ask you what you were doing, because he knew for a fact it was neither of the boys. But, at the same time he didn’t know how to bring it up.
On one hand he could slowly bring up the topic, have a simple conversation before he would ask you. Though, on the other hand, he could just flat out ask you if you were trying to kill him. Because, that’s what it surely felt like. That you were killing him slowly and purposefully.
Cas came to a quick decision, he would hold a conversation with you then ask you. Simple as that, no harm no foul.
“Cassie?” You asked, that soft voice of yours causing his chest to burn and his stomach to twist into knots. What the hell were you doing to him? “Are you alright-“
“Are you trying to kill me?”
You were shocked by his sudden question, his straightforward tone and seriousness catching you off guard completely. “… No?”
“It sure doesn’t seem that way.” He continued to accuse, folding his arms over his chest like he’d seen Dean do plenty of times before. “Would you care tell why you are trying to kill me?”
“But, I’m not?” You told him, voice uncertain and slightly laced with worthy. “Why would you think that?”
Cas glanced around the junkyard, almost as if the answer was somewhere written in the piles upon piles of junk. “My chest has been burning every time you come close to me, or how about when my stomach make me feel like my vessel is going to induce vomiting. When I know for a fact that I don’t eat anything to make it do so.”
You stood silently, letting the words sink deep into your skin. His chest burned? His stomach felt like he was going to throw up? Why the hell would he have thought that you were trying to kill him? It honestly just sounded like his vessel was sick, or maybe he—
You cut your thoughts short, and it suddenly clicked in your mind. A sly smile gracing your lips as you walked towards the angel. “Oh, Cassie~” You sang out, free hand coming to play with the sleeve of his trench coat. “Do you have a crush on me?”
Cas furrowed his brows, eyes dancing across your face as you came closer. “…No? At least I don’t think so.”
A chuckle left your lips, standing up on your tip toes you gave the angel a quick kiss on his check. Watching as a light blush crept upon his cheeks. “I like you too, Cassie.” You turned back to the junkyard, flashing your light at an empty bathtub and broken mattress, leaving the poor angel stuck in his spot.
Cas lifted a hand to where you had kissed him, the ghost of your lips making his heart stutter in his chest. Damn you, he thought to himself. Damn you and these strange human emotions.
Summary: You and Castiel work together to help make Deans birthday cake.
Word count: 1.1k
A/n: Not my favorite but I just needed something to work on. ENJOY :)
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“So how do we do this?” Cas asked, the dough laid out flatly on the counter, three eggs rested on top of the mushy substance.
Glancing over your shoulder from the mixing batter, you checked to see if the angel was correctly following your instructions. “Cassie, when you fold the eggs into the dough, you have to crack them.”
Cas furrowed his brows, facing the counter in front of him once more. “But, I don’t understand, you said we had to fold the eggs inside, you said nothing about cracking the eggs open.”
“Yes, I did tell you that, but we can’t eat eggshells, Cas.”
“Why not? Eggs are full of protein and nutrients for the human body.” He told you, slowly cracking each egg into the dough.
You let out a sigh, wondering how your life had come to you teaching an angel of the Lord how to make a hand made birthday cake. “Cassie.” You mumbled, setting down your mixing bowl and making your way to the angel. “The chicken and the yolk have the protein, the shell just protects them.”
Cas let out a quiet hum, watching the way the yolk broke up into the sticky dough. Mixing into the other ingredients slowly, his hands continued to stick to the batter. “When would I know to stop mixing?” He asked, blue eyes meeting yours as he continued to mix.
“When you can’t see the eggs by themselves anymore.”
He nodded slowly, hands kneading the dough until the eggs were deeply embedded into the batter. “What do we do with it now?”
“Now,” you began, quickly bringing over a pan to hold the cakes structure. “We place the dough in the pan, and let it bake for ‘bout thirty minutes.”
Cas lightly picked up the dough, placing it in the pan you held out for him. After that you placed it in the preheated oven, gently closing the door before setting the over timer. “What do we do while it’s baking?” He asked you, wiping his hands on his trench coat, any of the dough that stuck to his hands coming off on the poor jacket.
“Well,” you began, making your way back to the mixing bowl, the whisk sitting upright in the homemade frosting. “I need to add the finishing touches to the frosting, but we do need to clean up the kitchen before the boys come back.”
“Right.” Cas muttered, picking up all the empty measuring cup that was laying around and placing them in the sink. “Would we also need to sweep up the flour on the floor?”
“Yes, Cassie, that would be just fine.”
As Cas cleaned the kitchen, you finished up the icing, placing it onto the countertop and helping out the angel with washing the dishes as he sweeps.
Ding
“Y/n, I think the cake is done baking.” Cas told you bluntly, crouching down to sweep his dust pile into the dust pan.
“I think your right, Cas.” You told him, wiping your wet hands onto a nearby rag as you went to retrieve the finished cake.
The heat from the oven graced your face, the top layer of the cake a nice and warm bronze. “Perfect.” You hummed to yourself, using the rag to take the hot metal pan from the oven.
“Hey, Cas?” You asked the angel, placing the pan on the counter to cool down. “Do you wanna swap? Me clean the rest and you ice the cake.”
Cas gave you a quick nod, swapping places with him, you watch out of the corner of your eye as the angel spread the blue icing across the now cooled down cake. Bits of the cake coming up with the small spatula he was using, an annoyed expression playing on his face the longer he tried to get the icing to stick.
“Do you think Dean will like this?” He asked placing the spatula down and admiring yours and his work. “Because it looks a little…”
You walked over to his side, the rag you’d been using tossed over your shoulder as you looked over the cake. It was a dark blue, slight holes from where the icing wouldn’t fully cover the it, it also leaned on its right side. Though it shouldn’t since it was baked in a straight circle pan.
“Funky looking?” You finished for him, both your and the angels head cocked to the side as you took in the celebratory dessert.
The sound of doors opening suddenly caught your attention, “We’re back!” Sam called from the top of the stairwell, Dean behind him as he tried to look for any form of surprises for his birthday.
“We’re in the kitchen!” You called back, placing one or two more dishes in the sink before you were met with the sight of the two Winchester boys.
“Happy birthday.” You and Cas told Dean, bodies hiding the jacked up cake from the older man. “Why don’t you sit at the table and we will get started?”
Dean gave you and Cas a quick thank you before following your instructions, Sam made his way over to you. A shopping bag held tightly in both hands. He stopped momentarily in front of the cake, placing the bags onto the counter before facing you completely.
“I thought you said, you and Cas were gonna make a pie?” Sam whispered to you, eyeing the lop-sided cake with curiosity.
“We were,” you whispered back, placing a couple of candles on the cake. “But then we realized half way through that we didn’t know how to make a pie.”
Sam hummed at that, leaning over the counter as he slowly lifted the cake up and towards the table. “And clearly the cake looked a whole lot better than the pie.”
“Better than nothing.”
Making your way to the kitchen table, you placed a small party hat on Deans head. Ruffling his hair briefly before taking a seat, Cas and Sam joining you after lighting the cake.
“Well isn’t that a pretty cake.” Dean joked, swiping a bit of icing onto his finger and in his mouth. “Delicious too.”
“Yeah, well, it was either this or a box of Mac and cheese we’d be singing you happy birthday to.” You told him, swatting his hand back as he tries to get another taste.
“It’s perfect.” He told you, giving a quick thanks to each of you as you all started to sing happy birthday to the older man.
This is what he needed for his birthday, not a big party with some random people he barley knew. No, instead for his birthday he got a cake that was made by the people he loves and a day out with his brother, as Dean just pointed and said he wanted ‘this or that’ for his birthday.
It was truly a day he would remember, for the rest of his life. How ever long or short that may be.
Summary: Dean can’t stop talking about you, his wife.
Word count: 0.5k
A/n: Not really any use of Y/n, but it is pretty cheesy. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. ;)
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“And she has theses eyes, wow.” Dean let out a sigh, his own eyes practically in the shape of hearts as he continued to talk to the bartender. “I mean, look, if you’ve ever seen them, then you could see all these different shades mixed into one. It’s awesome.”
The bartender just nodded her head, the damp rag moving quickly back and forth on the counter tip. “Mhm.” She hummed, not even listening to what the love struck man was even saying.
“Plus, the way she talks is so beautiful, if I were to listen to one sound the rest of my life it would be her voice.”
“Yep.”
The bartender then turned her back to the man, trying to focus on her work and not on the man that had been rambling on about you since he sat down. With nothing else to do Dean just let his eyes wander through the bar, catching his brother and you talking to a few people about the case that you were working on.
Dean played with his empty beer bottle, watching as the light reflected off the glass. His thoughts wandered over to you, not that they weren’t on you to begin with. But, he thought of how just days ago you were his simple girlfriend, how you and him used to tease and flirt with one another before you were officially together.
And now, now you were Deans forever. Til death do you part, in both sickness and in health. You were his wife, and he was your husband. The thought made a smile drift onto his face and warmth creep up the back of his neck.
“Hey,” You suddenly said from behind the man, dragging him out of his thoughts. “Sam and I have some intel on the case.”
Dean quickly turned back to the bartender in front of him, who had her hands busy with cleaning the glasses and counter for the night. “What did I tell you?” He asked her, dragging her away from her work. “The voice of an angel.”
The bartender gave a quick nod before getting back to work, not even sparring the two a second glance as she walked away. You hit Dean with the back of your hand, not hard enough to hurt him, but hard enough to let him know that he needed to focus.
“I told you to stop that.” You gently scolded, your ears slightly turning pink. “Nobody wants to listen to you talk like that.”
“But, I want to.”
“And that’s amazing, D.” You pulled his hand in yours, giving it a tight squeeze. “But, not everyone wants to hear about our marriage.”
“But, how could I not tell the world about you?”
You gave him a light peck on the cheek, pulling him off the bar stool and towards the exit. “Do you know how cheesy you sound?”
“Very, but I love you.” Dean quietly told you, leaning down to give you a kiss on the lips. “And I want the world know that, my beautiful wife.”
“And I love you, my gorgeous husband.”
Summary: Dean has trouble sleeping at night
Word count: 0.5k
A/n: I don’t use Y/n at all in this fic, and I am just trying to practice writing. So leave criticism if you want :)
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He felt restless.
He was always moving, always hunting, always fixing something in this messed up world that he lived in. And boy did it tire him out.
Dean was currently sitting in the ‘Dean cave’, an old Adam Sandler movie playing in the background as he tried to doze off. But sleep seemed to drift away from him every time he came close to the internal peace.
He didn’t know what it was that kept him from this nights sleep. He tried all the tricks in the book to help him; warm milk, reading for five minutes an hour, and even shutting off all electronics so that his eyes wouldn’t burn from the blue light. But none of it seemed to work.
Glancing at his watch, he read the time. 2:47am. “God.” Dean muttered to himself, he’d been trying to sleep since 10, and now four hours later he had yet to even come close to sleeping.
A small knock came from the entrance to the cave, facing the noise he saw you standing beside the door frame. An old band T-shirt of Deans and a pair of your shorts were used for your PJs tonight, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you slowly walked into the room.
“Dean?” You questioned, coming to stand in front of him as he never once moved from his spot on the couch.
“Yes, princess?” He asked, sitting up. The blanket he had been using sliding down to the floor, chills slowly creeping up the back of his neck.
“Why are you still up?”
Dean didn’t know if he should sugarcoat his answer or just tell you flat out, because either way he’d know that you’d ask questions either way. He let out a tired sigh, his hand rubbing his face before he answered you. “I couldn’t sleep, haven’t been able to for a couple of hours.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, you’d seen him go to bed hours ago. You’d honestly thought he was well into sleep by the time you had retired to your own room. You’d only been up because you were thirsty, and when you walked past the ‘Dean cave’ you were confused why the TV was on.
Looking over your shoulder at the TV, you saw Happy Gilmore playing. The volume down low enough to not bother the only other sleeping resident in the bunker. You then faced Dean again a tired pout gracing your lips as you stepped in between Deans legs. Both your hands coming to rest in his hair.
“Can I watch the movie with you?” You asked, giving him the best puppy eyes that you could muster.
Dean let out a breathy laugh, his own hands coming to rest on your waist as he pulled you closer to him. “Course, princess.”
Laying back down on the couch, Dean pulled you on top of him, your head resting on his chest as you listened to his steady heart breathing. A deep sigh fell from Deans lips as he pulled you closer to his body, if possible.
With the warm body now on top of him, and light chatter from the TV, Dean slowly felt sleep seeping into his body. That’s all he needed, Dean thought to himself as he listened to your slow breathing. He didn’t need warm milk, or a book to help him fall asleep.
Instead all he needed was his favorite movie and his favorite girl to do the trick.
literally anyone: what is this place
Dean: welcome to my mojo dojo casa house