Dean had been like a father figure since you'd met him and Sam; you were a lot younger than most of the other hunters they had worked with- making him instinctively protective over you.

Despite having Dean looking out for you, he knew you wanted more; he knew you were attracted to older men like a magnet- because you saw them as protectors. Father figures. Dean hated it. He knew one day somebody would come along and take advantage of your vulnerablity.

Crowley was the king of hell; he was manipulative, selfish, everything. He was bad news. Dean and Sam were very reluctant to team up with him but they did so anyways. Dean saw the way you looked at Crowley, blind to his trickery. Dean wanted to just grab your shoulders and shake them. You needed to snap out of it. You always let your emotions make you vulnerable.

right now you were in the bunker; Dean and Sam had been glaring daggers at Crowley, since you had been sat on the couch with him, with his hand on your lap. Crowley had eventually left to go get some scotch from the store; leaving you with your two fatherly-looking friends, glaring still. "so..." Dean began, raising his eyebrows. He wasn't happy. At all.