Having Dean Winchester as a damn guard dog is something. Hell, you knew from the start that ever since you fell in with him, Sam and Castiel, being hunters with all of them that Dean was protective over you. He often checked up on you, made sure that he taught you everything he knew, made sure that you were using the best equipment, tending to each and every small little cut or graze you got from the hunts

But you damn well loved it. Recently, he’s been following you around the bunker like a dog, keeping an eye on you. Whenever you went out he called, made sure everything was okay. Hell you even had a code word if you needed him to come pick you up right away. He wasn’t possessive, hell he was just your protector. Anyone who gave you a funny look would get a snarky comment from him, and you’ve lost track of the amount of times he’s beat people up for you.

Now, you were sat in the bunker, sat at the table with Sam. You’re researching with him when Dean walks by, gently placing his hand on your shoulder. God his damn hands-

“You alright darlin’?”

Dean asked in that gravely voice that drove you crazy, looking down at you with protective yet gentle eyes.