#daringdrabbles

The Winchester brothers and I had taken a break, from talking to witnesses, for lunch and were in the process of comparing notes when my phone rang. “Detective Benson.” I answered, not bothering to check the caller ID as I kept reading over the witness notes Sam had taken earlier. “I need to see you.” The gruff and demanding voice made me stiffen in my seat. I instantly looked across the table at the boys, my thighs squeezing tightly together, my cheeks flushing. “I’m just gonna take this…” I whispered to Dean and Sam, both not looking up, Dean waving me off. I stood from the table and headed towards the back of the bar, hoping for a quiet corner.

“Where are you?” I asked, hoping it wasn’t too long of a drive. “Too far. I need to see you, now.” He demanded once more. “John, I’m in the middle of a case, I want to see you too but -” I began, almost as a whimper, it had been weeks and his last instruction had left me hornier than ever before: Don’t touch yourself, not till I tell you to. “You have a camera on your phone.” The gravel of his tone had me swallowing thickly and itching to touch myself. How would he ever know? “I’m in a bar.” I explained, but I was already looking for the restroom. “You’ll figure something out.” He said, making my knees almost buckle. I headed straight for the restroom and checked the cubicles were free before locking the main door and sealing myself in a cramped stall. I pulled my phone from my ear and tapped the video call button, biting my lip when his face came into view. The salt and pepper matched his hair, but the smattering of curls across his chest, just visible at the top of a V’d tshirt, was still dark. “Balance the phone somewhere so I can see you.” He instructed, the predatory smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Yes sir.” I answered, placing the phone on top of the toilet paper receptacle on the back of the door. I sat down on the closed lid of the toilet and closed my eyes, breathing erratic already.

“Hitch up that skirt, love.” I did not have to be told twice, I inched the fabric of the pencil skirt up my thighs and over my hips, already hooking my index fingers into the panties I had on. “That’s my girl, you know what to do, take them off, let me see you.” John’s voice was like a good whiskey, rough and warm. I pushed the offending material down to my ankles and then sat back, legs wide for him. I licked my lips as I noticed his arm was moving, hand out of sight, but I knew he was touching himself. Slowly stroking his hard cock, looking for relief from the ache, but not yet chasing an end.

“It’s been too long, John, I need your touch. I’m so pent up I don’t know what I’m doing half the time!” I begged, knowing he wasn’t a fan of begging unless it was for him to stop whatever torturous play he was busy performing. “That’s dangerous on a hunt, my girl, need you clear minded.” He said with a snarl, I saw the flick of his eyes as he took in the screen in front of him. “You can touch yourself.” My hand flew straight towards my already jumpy clit. “Slowly.” He growled, watching as I jerked my hand back before teasing it towards my clit. I ran my fingertips over my hip, down the inside of my thigh, then around my lips, before finally reaching my clit. I let out a soft moan as I made contact. The tight little bundle of nerves had been screaming for attention since leaving John that now it was like stepping into heaven itself.

“What a good girl you are.” He encouraged, “Lick your fingers then circle your clit. Imagine it was my tongue. Tell me what you taste like.” I swirled my tongue around my index finger and then added my middle finger, putting on a performance, hoping he was picturing his dick sliding in and out of my plump lips.

“Baby girl, you’re so eager,” He muttered, his keen eyes trained on the screen in front of him. I made sure to make an obscene pop with my fingers as I withdrew them from my mouth before instantly lowering them between my legs. “Mmm, John, I taste good, but not as good as you.” I hummed, forcing my hooded eyes to stay open as I began to rub gently up and down, my fingers gliding with a mix of saliva and arousal.

“Jesus, baby girl, you are wicked.” He said as he watched the swap of fingers to thumb as my middle finger teased my entrance. I lifted my leg to the handrail for a better spread and grabbed at my clothed breast with my other hand. “Mmm, YN, start fucking yourself. Slowly, in and out, like you do in the mornings.” He said, spurring me on.

“Show me, sir.” I moaned as my finger slid between my lips and into my warm, wet, heat. John’s picture’s quality distorted while he repositioned. But soon I was watching him clearly; one hand helping him remain propped up on the motel bed as the other had a firm grip of his considerable length and pumped it leisurely. “Oh god,” I whimpered, eyes fluttering as I added a second finger and began pumping to match him. I reached down with my other hand and began to circle my clit again. I was chasing my release, and with how good I had been, it was sure to come fast. A low moan from John’s end had my eyes back open and focused on him.

“That’s it baby, faster,” He guided, his hand moved back and forth, his thumb wiping over the tip every so often. I could see the tense of his thigh, his tell tale sign. He was so close. “Wait, together.” I pleaded, I wasn’t quite there, I rubbed at my clit vigorously, my fingers crooking to caress that sweet spot that normally only John could hit. A guttural groan followed by a pleased hiss told me he had come and I began to shake, so close, almost there.

“Stop.” John’s voice was huskier and had the tell tale signs of being spent, but he was still dominating as ever. I whimpered, the fingers inside me slowing, but the fingers working my clit back and forth were still eager, a mind of their own. My pleasure was tied directly to them now, no way my brain was in control. “YN. Stop.” He growled, and that promise of punishment, the kind worse than this, had me ceasing all movement. My chest heaved as I panted, I was so close. My thighs were trembling, my nerves were on fire, my clit throbbed, ready for one last appeal and it would give.

“Good girl.” He cooed, it was the tone reserved for right after the smack that stung more than it gave pleasure, for right after he’d held me over his cock a little too long that I began to struggle for air. The tone that made me feel like I deserved the title. The call disconnected, but not before John gave me one last instruction, “Get back to the motel. I’m waiting.”

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“Son of a bitch” Dean threw his hands up as he practically growled at the driver in the car next to them. (Y/n) and Sam exchanged a concerned look in the rear view mirror as Dean continued to curse other drivers as they innocently went about their days. They’d been on the road for a couple of hours and it was becoming evident that the elder Winchester’s patience was running thin as exhaustion from the hunt they’d just completed caught up with him.

“Dean, maybe we should pull over for a while” His eyes snapped to (y/n)’s in the mirror and she resisted the urge to recoil from his glare.

“I’m fine” His words were forced through clenched teeth but instead of pushing him, (y/n) just leant away from the front seat and turned her attention to the view out of the window. Guilt seeped into Dean’s stomach as he watched (y/n)’s face drop, the Impala jerking violently as he turned down a road they were seconds away from passing. Silently, he followed the signs to a diner, hoping it would be nice enough to make up for his behaviour.

Sam bit his lip to stop himself from laughing when he saw where they’d stopped. He knew Dean was a softy underneath his hard exterior but he’d never seen a woman wrapped him around their little finger quite like (y/n) had. A small smile pulled at her lips when she took in their surroundings and it only grew when Dean opened the car door for her and held her hand as they made their way inside.

They all seemed to relax as they settled into their booth, quietly chatting about what they were going to do next. The conversation was cut short when the food arrived and they all but pounced on their respective dishes.

Dean was finished in a manner of minutes, the crumbs on his plate being the only remnants of his burger. He wiped off his hands before snuggling into (y/n)’s side while she still ate. One arm was wrapped around her shoulder protectively while his fingers played with her hair, the other hand resting on her thigh as he pressed kisses to her temple.

(Y/n) and Sam exchanged amused stares until Dean finally caught on. “What?”

His girlfriend turned in his arms, facing him with a wide smile on her face. “You’re hilarious when you’re hangry”

Dean’s face dropped as he turned away from her, clenching his jaw to stop his lips from forming a pout. “I don’t know what you’re talking about”

A giggle escaped (y/n)’s lips as she pressed a kiss to his cheek, earning a poorly concealed grin from the man next to her. “Happens to the best of us”

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Castiel enjoyed going on supply runs with Dean for two reasons. Firstly, he got to ride in the front of the Impala. Secondly, he got to observe humanity at its simplest from; people just going about their daily lives, and there was something about that which Castiel found reassuring.

Castiel was wistfully studying the various jams on offer when he spotted a short elderly lady trying to reach for a jar of honey on the top shelf.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” he said as he approached her. “May I get that for you?”

“Thank you, dear” the woman grinned. “Aren’t I lucky, having someone as tall and handsome as you come to my rescue?”

“I’m actually of average height” Castiel said as he reached for the jar. “My friend Sam is much taller than me. I always have to ask him to get books off the shelf for me. Here you go” he added as he handed the woman the honey.

“Thanks again” she gushed. “You’re a real angel.”

Castiel became alarmed. “Who told you?”

The woman just laughed and waved her hand dismissively before moving down the aisle. Castiel frowned ponderously as he walked away.

He was distracted again when he saw a little boy crying in the candy aisle.

Castiel walked over to him and smiled softly as he crouched down to the boy’s level.

“Hello, little one. Why are you sad?” he asked.

“I-I can’t find my momma” the boy sniffed.

“I’ll help you to find her” Castiel assured him. “I need you to think about your mother. Think very hard.”

The boy nodded and closed his eyes; his nose scrunched up to indicate his high level of concentration.

Castiel held the little boy’s hand and felt the connection he had to his mother; she in turn was fretting about her son.

“This way” Castiel said gently as he led the boy.

They ended up in the bakery section where they found a frantic looking woman.

“Momma!” the little boy squealed. He ran to his mother and she knelt down to scoop him into her arms. “Thanks mister wizard man!” the boy called to Castiel.

Castiel smiled and gave the boy a small wave.

“Cas!” a gruff voice called from the checkout desks.

Castiel hurried over and found Dean waiting for his items to be scanned.

“Man, I need to put you on a leash” the hunter said.

“I’m sorry, I got distracted helping people.”

“Well, you can help me pack the bags.”

“Alright, Dean.”

Castiel thoughtfully packed each item into the paper bags as the cashier passed them to him. Dean paid and the cashier smiled at him and Castiel.

“Thank you, have a nice day.”

“No, thank you” Castiel stressed. “I hope you have a nice day too.”

He grabbed a couple of the bags while Dean picked up the rest.

“Why you gotta be so cute?” the older Winchester grumbled.

“I wasn’t aware that I was” Castiel frowned.