Reader x supernatural Chapter 4- Drinks on Me

“Alright,” you huffed, smiling as you moved to rinse your hands at the sink, “Lets get better acquainted. Shirt off, please.”

“You could at least buy me a drink first,” Dean retorted sarcastically. Your back was to him so he couldn’t see your smile widen. You were beginning to like these two brothers- Dean was gruff and flirtatious but also comical and Sam was pensive and intelligent- an observer much like yourself. You opened a cabinet to grab something and Dean took the moment to look you over properly.

Your hair was the same color as Bobby’s except curly and its length was not easy to discern since it was bunched up on the back of your head save for a few short locks escaping around your face. Your clothes were loose around your slender form, as you liked them, but he could still tell you had curves under there somewhere. 'Nice ass,' he noted to himself for a third time. All in all, he concluded that you must look like your mom since you didn’t look very much like Bobby.

You interrupted his thoughts when you turned on your heel and set a glass of whiskey in front of him. He looked at it in surprise since he hadn’t noticed you pour it.

“This good enough?” you quipped, staring him dead in the eye. He took a moment to notice the smattering of freckles across the bridge of you nose, not unlike his own, and that your deep coffee colored eyes, which seemed to be rimed and flecked with tones of amethyst and lavender, were lined with thick lashes and had a mischievous sparkle in them.

His split second observation was interrupted by the continuation of your sentence, “I have you pegged as a whiskey man.”

He grinned, “Good call.”

“That enough to get your shirt off ?" you smirked, keeping your eyes locked on his. 

He had not expected you to participate in a back in forth with him- you didn't seem like the type- so he just nodded and pulled his shirt over his head. You surprised him again by not stopping to admire his well toned chest, instead walking directly around behind him to let out a sigh as you got a better look at his blood encrusted shoulder. The wound was fairly standard but flecked with bits of broken glass.

“These have got to come out first,” you sighed almost to yourself, leaning in closer. Dean squirmed a bit but when he felt your fingers gingerly touch his skin he calmed. You smiled at his reaction as continuing to assess the damage with gentle fingers.

“This isn’t my first rodeo, Cowboy” you hummed and Dean could hear the smile on your lips, responding, “Go easy on me, Doc."

Something told him you would.

The task before you was familiar and took almost no time at all with Dean sitting in silence to let you work. Sam came in just as you finished bandaging the wound, starting, “How goes…”

He trailed off when he saw that you were done before stating in a stunned tone, “That’s a first.”  

“Shut it, Sammy,” Dean retorted angrily and you looked up at Sam questioningly.

“He usually complains the whole time. Loudly,” the tall brunette offered and you chuckled as Dean glared at him, “She has magic fingers, man. Hardly felt a thing.”

You laughed outright this time and then leaned in to whisper, “That’s not all they’re magic at.” Your breath tickling at his ear.

Dean’s jaw dropped and Sam burst out laughing- you had managed to catch his womanizing brother off guard. You giggled wildly, “Oh god you should see your face. Priceless,” before turning to go wash your hands in the sink again.

“You shouldn’t tease a man like that,” he protested, regaining his wits while giving a still-laughing Sam an embarrassed glare. You were such a mystery to them, both looking in you direction after a moment, and you could sense the curiosity that peeled of them in droves.

“Tease a man like what?” came a gruff voice that silenced both Dean and Sam.

But not you.

Turning from the sink, you smiled and responded lightly, “Oh, you know just having a little fun with your boys, Bobby.”

They were his boys. You had grown up aware of them, though they were unaware of you, and at times you were sure he had been more of a father to them then he ever was to you. You didn’t blame him, as Dean had suspected you were the spitting image of your mother and a constant reminder of what he had done… what he had lost. Nor did you blame him for sending you away to live with your aunt and uncle shortly after the incident. He had wanted you to be safe, away from being a hunter and the dangers that came with it.

Not that it had mattered in the end. 

The older you got, the more time you spent with him, and the more it became obvious that this is what you were born to do for so many reasons.

Bobby shot you a disapproving look, his face set in a serious frown, and the atmosphere in the kitchen went from jovial to tense.