đź’š For Oya, Dean feels at home. He is a warm apple pie and a nice cold bottle of beer. He is the comfort after the effort, the icing on the cake, the warm blanket wrapped around her frame when she’s exhausted, sick, or upset. Dean feels at home. He is her home. She finds comfort in his arms. She finds respite and safety in his arms. She finds peace. He is her peace.
For Oya, Dean is hers to please. She knows how to help him unwind and relax. She knows how to make him drop the savior persona so he can just be him. She takes charge, she tells him what to do. She caters to their needs. Dean is hers to play with like putty in her hand and she would be damned if someone else wanted to do it. They wouldn’t understand his needs like she does. They would want him to act like a savior and a dominant when Oya knows he just wants to let her decide for them both. He wants to let her be in charge, so he doesn’t have to do it there, either. He’s the submissive to her dominant side, and no one can match that.
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