as he's looming over you, hips bucking against yours. his steady pace falters as he gets closer, of course he waits for you to reach the edge before he could let himself cum. as your walls clench around him and a cry breaks free from your throat, he feels his abdomen tighten and he mumbles "i fucking love you.." as waves of warmth and pleasure washes over him, he lowers himself ontop of you and your hand rubs up and down his back then comes to tangle in his hair as you reply with "i love you too..."

"that's it, pretty girl...feels good huh baby?.." his lips brush against the shell of your ear, soft pants sending shivers down your spine and into the coil tightening in your lower stomach, threatening to release at any moment. with each buck of your hips his thumb presses down on the bundle of nerves that aches for attention. you forgot how many times he's already made you come,you're too drunk off him to care anyway

"c'mon, sweetheart...one more f'me yeah?"

"y'sound like heaven.."

"let go, baby...you're right there.."

he catches your mouth in yet another steaming kiss that makes you grow hotter, more flushed. you feel the exact moment you fall apart—mouth agape, panting, back arched— it's a sight he would pay to see. the view he has of you is enough to get him off. you both ride out your high until you're oversensitive and shaking in his arms.

the speaker blares with the shredding of angus young's guitar, the engine hums softly. but it's all a blur while you sit on your favorite seat.

dean's lap.

the sun is setting, the sky a beautiful mix of orange and pink flowing into each other perfectly, the clouds adding shadows like a painter decided they would. soft rays of light shine through the windows, displaying on the vinyl bench of baby, playing soft shadows on dean's features—you believe. you don't really know since his lips are moving against yours in a slow dance that makes your heart flutter like crazy. his large hands splay on the curve of your waist, holding you down against him. your straddling his lap with your arms circling around his neck as if making sure he won't pull away.

even though you know he won't

with the way he keeps adjusting you in his lap to press your bodies even closer—if that's even possible— says everything he doesn't want to voice out loud. you try to break the kiss but his hand reaches up to the back of your head to pull you back in. almost like he needs your mouth on his in order to breathe. you let out a surprised gasp when his tongue invades your mouth, slipping in like that's it's rightful place. your fingers curl in his shirt and pull him closed as his hand tangles in your hair, your almost positive he hasn't taken a breath in two minutes but the only color on his face is flushed light pink that spread on the apple of his cheeks. his hair is mused and messy from your hand running through it earlier. you open your eyes briefly to look at his adorable soft state. the sight makes the corner of your lips turn up into a small grin

you swear it was a complete accident, but it most definitely was not. you were agitating him all day, teasing him. walking coincidentally in front of him, your ass rubbing against his crotch on complete accident. it got to the point where when he confronted you, you denied it. batting your lashes innocently while looking up at him with those puppy eyes you've mastered thanks to sam. he's had enough and pushed you against the bed, hovering on top of you, a hand on your neck. just barely squeezing your windpipe. you squirm and rub your thighs together. he notices and smirk, "someone's getting off on this, huh?" all you could respond with was a small whine. he let's go and lifts your chin up with his index finger to meet his gaze. "hm, such a needy little thing..." . his lips capture yours in a steaming kiss, his hand going back to your neck, gentle pressure on your throat as his lips coax yours open, tongue slipping in. pulling out small whimpers and high pitched moans from you, he swallows every last one.

chest still heaving from the rush of adrenaline pumping through his veins, blood smeared over his forearm and on his henley that's a little too tight on him, stretching over the planes of muscle. he walks into the motel with Sam behind him, mumbling something about taking a shower. leaving you and dean alone in the small room. he winces with every step but refuses to let you clean his wounds. after a couple moments of you pleading to tend to his aching body, he gives in. not without grumbling though. he sits on the edge of the bed as you pull out the sewing kit from your duffle. he takes off his shirt and you stop in your tracks, eyes taking over his defined body, biceps flexing as he tosses the shirt, his back muscles rippling under his skin like they know you're watching. you sit next to his and tell him to hold still as you pierce his skin to close the gaping cut on his upper arm, his eye twitches every time the needle goes into his flesh as he grumbles an unconvincing "I'm fine."

afterwards you ask him to lay down on his stomach, before he could protest you send him a stern look and he complies. laying down with his arms under his head, he feels you hover over him. your soft hands start working his tense muscles, and the sound he lets out is straight out of a porno. you giggle and run your hands up his back, then back down. tracing over every scar, every blemish. each one tells a story and you can't wait to hear it. working his shoulder with such tenderness lulls him to sleep. his soft snores rumble from deep in his chest. you smile to yourself and press a kiss to the back of his neck, whispering an "I love you" and getting off his back. pulling the cheap comforter over you both.