You killed the witch, stabbing her right in the stomach. She tried to say something as she was dying, but her lungs were filling with blood and it sounded like wet coughs and wheezing until she finally went silent.
“Ding dong, the witch is dead,” you laughed, Dean high-fiving you and Sam giving you a small smile.
No one was injured- not even close. You called that a success, which you celebrated with the boys at a local bar.
“Here’s to the dream team,” you said, clinking your shot glass with Sam and Dean’s before throwing it back, wincing a little at the burn, though you were getting number the more you drank
“Hey, what about that guy?” Sam asked, pointing at an attractive guy sitting on a bar stool- seemingly by himself.
It was a game the three of you liked to play. You’d hit on people for the hell of it, making bets on whether you’d be rejected or get lucky.
“My money’s on rejection,” Sam laughed.
“Wanna bet?” You fired back. There was no way you were losing now.
You unbuttoned your plaid shirt, tying it above your hips and keeping it open dangerously low. You teased your hair a little and yanked up your jeans, tightening your bra strap and putting your breasts on display for good measure.
The boys just stared at you while you did so, though you didn’t mind. You lived together so it wasn’t the first time you’d seen each other in… compromising positions. Dean should’ve known something was wrong then and something was itching in the back of his mind, but he assumed it was just his hunter’s intuition in overdrive from the extremely recent hunt.
You sauntered away, swinging your hips as you did so, Dean’s mouth dropping open.
“Dude! Gross!”
“Shut up,” Dean said, squinting at him a little before turning back to watch you.
He’d always felt something for you, though he usually piled other crap over it and ignored what his heart was telling him, figuring it was just lust, but it never seemed to really go away. He shrugged it off, deciding you were worth far more than a one night stand, not willing to risk finding out if it was anything more than that. But when he was watching you flirt with another man that wasn’t him, he felt… a little hurt, even betrayed. Which was absurd because it wasn’t like he owned you, right? He’d brought home plenty of women, right? You were just his friend- hunting partner- sister, right? Honestly, he didn’t know anymore. But what he did know was that something was wrong when you were kissing him rough with a need so foreign, so completely different than anything even remotely you behind the bar. A certain ferocity he hadn’t seen before… ever.
“Mykie, whoa, slow down,” he said, his hands on your waist pushing you back a little.-
“Dean, can we please go back to the motel? I wanna- I want you,” you said, nibbling at his ear.
He shivered at your words and the seductive tone, but he knew something was definitely wrong. You didn’t give out that easy and you sure as hell didn’t say things like that, not even to people like the guy she’d flirted with when you first arrived. What was wrong with her?
“Mykie, I think- I think something’s wrong.”
“What? Your dick doesn’t work? You can’t fuck me like you’ve always wanted to? C’mon, Dean, please, I want this more than you know.”
