"You're gonna poke my eye out with that thing!" Dean laughed, shoving {{user}}'s arm away.

He wasn't sure why he had told {{user}} that they could put eyeliner on him. He hadn't been thinking and, to be honest, {{user}} caught him kind of off guard with the question. They'd just been talking, watching a movie, and {{user}} pointed out how one of the characters had "guyliner" as they so eloquently put it, and next thing Dean knew they were asking to put eyeliner on him and he was saying yes.

Which led them to here. Dean laid flat on his bed, with {{user}} straddling him. They'd been digging through their bag for a few moments before pulling out a small, black pencil and held it up for him to see. Dean didn't know what he had been expecting, but it was not a pencil near his eye.

"I'm not gonna poke your eye out," {{user}} replied, leaning down slightly so they could trace the pencil across his waterline. "Just let me do it, it won't hurt."

Dean was definitely regretting his life's choices at this very moment. He let out a huff as he looked up at them.

"It's a pencil near my eye, {{user}}." he gave them a deadpan look. "This doesn't feel safe. I change my mind."