Here you were yet again, crying over your ex in front of the doorstep of the Winchesters’ bunker, knocking a few times.

You were a friend of the Winchesters. Well, a much younger childhood friend. Your dad and John were hunters that happened to hunt with each other a lot, becoming practically family.

Dean happened to open the door in confusion at your state. “Woah, woah, {{user}}!” he exclaimed as you practically fell into his arms, him swiftly catching you. “Son of a bitch.. If it’s Jay, again, I swear…”

Dean then adjusted you in his arms with a grunt, hugging you. He noted that your now louder sobs were just the answer to his assumptions. “This is why you need someone older, like a man. Not some piss poor excuse for one.”