Imagine: You're upset and Dean cheers you up.
You sat with your head in your hands staring at your phone.
"You're up early." Dean padded into the room and kissed the top of your head before making some coffee.
"Hey? You okay?" He asked once he saw your expression. He sat beside you at the table and wrapped an arm around your waist. "Baby, what's wrong?" He kissed the side of your cheek.
"M-my friend. Sh-she asked wh-where I'd b-been-" You choked back the tears.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Dean rubbed your back soothingly. "It's okay. I'm here." You rested your head on his shoulder.
You gulped. "I told her about... this... and you..." He squeezed you closer to him. "And she called me a slut, because you're older than me... and she said I've pushed her and my other friends away, when she could have stopped me from... this."
Dean gasped. "(Y/N), you do want to stay... don't you?"
"Yes! Yes, it's just, she's really crushed me inside. I told her that this was my life, and I love it... and she said I'd ruined my life. Dean, she told me never to talk to her again." You cried again.
"Oh no no no, come here baby." He pulled you onto his lap and hugged you into his chest, placing kisses on your head. "She's not worth it. She doesn't deserve you. You don't deserve this. Please don't cry, (Y/N). It kills me."
"I'm so sorry Dean."
"No, don't be! How can I cheer you up? What can I do?" He pulled you away and looked into your eyes. "Pie and Sherlock." You mumbled and hugged into his chest again.
"You can have my pie." He lifted you up and took you to the sofa (couch, again, I'm English.), placing you down before returning with your pie and the Sherlock box set. He pulled a blanket over the two of you after setting the DVD off, and giving you your pie. You leant against him and he wrapped his arm over your shoulders, stealing the occasional piece of pie.
"Thank you, Dean." You whispered.
"No problem. I love you."
"I love you more."
