Small Cuts (Supernatural Dark!fic)

f i f t y - n i n e

"My voice shakes when I try to speak
Your name is stitched into my teeth
And every time I talk I feel you there"
Teeth - Casey 

The sun barely filtered through the narrow bunker windows, casting soft light across the common room where Amara sat alone. Her mind was still spinning from the night before—the teasing, the palpable tension, and how her powers had slipped out of her control, connecting her to Sam and Dean in ways that left her breathless. Even now, the intensity lingered, coiling tight around her chest, her skin buzzing with it.

She sensed them before she heard them. Their emotions—raw, sharp—were like a current in the air, pulling her into their orbit. Sam's energy was always dark, a slow burn that smouldered beneath the surface, while Dean's was sharper, possessive, a heat that quickened her pulse just from being near. She felt them both, and even before they stepped into the room, she knew today would be different.

Dean's voice broke the quiet. "Morning, sweetheart." His tone was casual, smooth, but there was an undercurrent, something darker and more potent simmering beneath the surface. His grin was lazy, but his eyes were locked on hers, intense, as if he could see straight through her.

Sam was right behind him, quieter but just as charged. He didn't need words. His presence was enough. His gaze lingered on her, filled with something heavy and unspoken, making her stomach twist in anticipation. "How are you feeling?" He asked, his voice low, layered with more than just concern.

"I'm fine," she replied, but even she knew how unconvincing it sounded. Her voice was softer than she wanted it to be, betraying the rush of emotions that were swirling inside her. She could feel them—Sam and Dean—radiating heat, want, and something more dangerous. It pressed against her, filling the space around her like a second skin.

Dean took a seat across from her, stretching out leisurely, but his eyes never wavered. "Fine, huh?" He smirked, leaning forward just slightly. "Last night, you didn't seem so fine. Looked like you wanted something... more."

Her heart sped up, warmth creeping into her chest. She shifted in her seat, trying to find solid ground, but it was impossible under their scrutiny. The truth was, she had wanted more. She wanted it now, too. Desperately.

Sam's presence beside her was overwhelming, his hand brushing lightly against her arm, sending a ripple of energy through her. "You're not very good at hiding what you want," he murmured, his voice a low rumble, dark and full of intent. His eyes on her were heavy, weighted with all the things left unsaid. "We can feel it."

Amara's breath hitched. She wasn't just feeling their emotions; her own were threatening to spill over, breaking through her fragile control. She tried to steady herself, but the pull between them was too strong, too consuming. It wrapped around her, thick and suffocating, as their desire fed into hers.

"I remember that night," she whispered, her voice trembling as she glanced at Dean. "The night I tried to kiss you." The memory was vivid—the way she'd stood on her tiptoes, heart pounding, only for Sam to tut—playfully reprimand her and for Dean to stop her gently. It had been too much, too soon, and she hadn't been ready.

Dean's smirk softened, but the intensity in his eyes never faltered. "Yeah, I remember. You weren't ready."

Amara swallowed, her fingers trembling as the emotions swirling in the room grew more charged. The weight of their desire, their restraint, and her need collided, making it impossible to think straight. She could feel them pushing her to the edge, just like they always did.

"And now?" Sam's voice was a dark rumble, low and dangerous as his fingers brushed against her thigh, sending heat coursing through her. "What about now?"