The silence of the road resonated between you as you hurtled down the empty country road. The outside passed by your window, a dark smudge, occasionally morphing in tone to lighter or darker greys.
You turned your watch to the minimal light and could just about make out the time to be 12:30 am. Your ribs hurt – your leg too – after getting thrown around in the fight. But you were sure John was worse off. You glanced over at him and eyed the cut running down the side of his face, a trickle of blood seeping from the gash. You’d offered but he hadn’t let you tend it, or any of his wounds. He’d insisted on getting on the road as soon as possible.
It wasn’t like you blamed the guy. How could you? They were his kids. But sometimes you were sure that it wouldn’t be a vampire, or a demon, or any other monster out there that would kick the bucket from under his size eleven feet. No – it would be because he didn’t take care of himself, and refused to let anyone else do it for him.
You let out a thick sigh.
“John – don’t you think we should pull over somewhere?” you said softly. He shot a hard glance at you before casting his attention back to the road.
“I told you I wanted I keep going until we get back to the boys,” he said sternly.
“I know, John, but–” You hardened your voice a little. “You’re damn near slashed to pieces, and so am I – neither of us has slept or eaten in days, you’re running on fumes as we speak–”
“Damn it, Y/N! I told them I’d be back three days ago.”
“I know– I know you did.” You leant over to him, resting your hand on his tensed forearm. “But driving when you’re like this– it’s dangerous.” You paused, your eyes flitting over his moon-lit face, watching how hard it was to keep his eyes open. “The boys will be okay for one more night. They’re with Bobby. They’re safe.”
“There’s no such thing,” he muttered bitterly. You ground your teeth together.
“Don’t be stubborn, John. You know what I mean.” You knew that that was like telling a bird not to fly, but sometimes he just had to let go. “Tucked up at Bobby’s is just about the safest place they could be.”
“It’s not just that–” You watched his features tense tighter, shift, and then relax as he let out a sigh, his hand rubbing his left temple. You knew well enough what he was trying to say. It wasn’t just about if the boys were safe. He wanted to keep his promise so badly. “Yeah, okay. You’re right,” he said, resignedly. “We’ll stop at the next motel.” You felt your body let go of all its pent-up tension. Reaching forward, you took the map and torch out of the glovebox.
“There’s one about six miles down the road,” you said after a minute or two, your finger tapping the little marker on the creased paper. You drove the rest of the way in silence with Deep Purple quietly playing in the background, very much aware that John did not want to talk. Not yet, anyway. He’d have to unwind first.
He swung off the main road at the neon yellow Sunway Motel sign and slowed the Impala to a stop in the parking lot. The doors creaked as they opened, before quickly being slammed shut again. As you walked round to the trunk, the gentle mizzle in the air soothed your skin. You grabbed your bag out of the trunk and slung the spare bag with the medkit in on your back, before heading over to the main doors. As a thunderous crack boomed overhead and the rain began to pour, you both made a break for the lobby.
A tone chimed as John pushed the door open. As you got inside, you immediately dropped your rucksack on the floor. You were both breathing heavily as you got inside, John vigorously running his hand through his hair in an attempt to shake off the coating of rain.
A small, bird-like man appeared from the office and opened a logbook, his pen behind his ear.
“How may I help?” he asked.
“We need a room, just for tonight,” replied John, stepping closer to the desk.
You started to zone out a little, watching the rain fall down the outside of the window. John always dealt with the arrangements, and once you’ve heard one of them, you’ve heard them all.
You vaguely heard the desk clerk ask of either of you needed any medical help. It made sense given the state the two of you arrived in. You weren’t paying enough attention to know if he did or not, but John likely responded in the same way he always did.
The man handed over a key with a red tag.
“Room twelve. It’s down the hallway an to your left,” he said pointing down one of the two main corridors.
“Thanks,” said John, the unintentional gruffness of his tone seeping through. You picked up your bag and trotted along after him, his own rucksack slung over his shoulder.
Following him in, your eyes swept the room, immediately spotting the double bed. Already startled, you jumped at the sound of him closing and locking the door behind you.
“One bed?” you stammered, your limbs locking and your throat drying out. John dumped his bag on the floor.
“Oh, yeah. It was the only room he had left.” He made it sound so matter-of-fact. “Not a problem, right?” You spurred yourself into a false easiness.
“Oh – no. ‘Course not. I mean, how long have we been hunting together?” you said rhetorically.
“Right,” John smiled. He took off his jacket and began to unbutton his shirt as he headed into the bathroom. As soon as he disappeared from view, the calm façade dropped from your face.
Hey, it’s okay. It’s no big deal. You’re just going to be sharing a bed…all night…with the guy want to make babies with…
You paced around the room, trying to flood out the panic with reason.
He didn’t even think twice about it. It’s totally fine. Nothing is going to happen. Especially if you just treat it like it’s nothing.
“Hey, can you give me a hand?” John had appeared from around the door, shirtless and attempting to dab away the blood from the gashes on his shoulder blade. You were jolted out of your thoughts.
“Oh – uh, yeah. Sure,” you said, taking the damp cloth from his hand and sitting him down on the edge of the bed. You sat behind him, immediately tending to his wound, your eyes drifting over the scrapes and bruises marring his skin. Your heart skipped in your chest as the tips of your fingers touched his bare skin. You bit back the feeling and tried to focus on the task at hand. You’d seen worse scratches, but an infection would be bad news.
John watched you in the mirror on the wall opposite the bed as you attentively dabbed the blood away. When it was clean, you gently applied the dressing, holding it down with medical tape. You tapped his shoulder, asking him to turn. John twisted around, allowing you to inspect the gash of his face. Your hands clasped his face as you pulled him closer.
“You’re lucky,” you started, taking out a cotton wool pad and a small bottle of medical alcohol from the medkit in the other bag. “Normally, this would need a stitch or two, but I stocked up on steri-strips before we left.” You doused the cotton pad in the alcohol. “So you get to keep your handsome face. Big breath.”
John took in a deep breath and braced. A muffled, painful sound came from his throat as you ran the cotton pad over the cut, the muscles in his jaw pulsing, his fists clenched.
It didn’t matter how many times you’d patched him up – it still hurt like a bitch. But it helped that he didn’t take it like one.
“It’s okay,” you cooed, dabbing away the excess alcohol and applying the neatly steri-strips. John sat patiently while you finished up, the pace of this breathing gradually steadying. “You’re all good,” you said quietly, getting up from the bed and stripping down to your underwear.
It was ridiculous how you were so comfortable being in front of him in almost nothing, but just the thought of sharing a bed together made you giddy. But that was just the way it was; because of the job. Exposure was normal. Intimacy wasn’t.
John turned to you and, as he did, he caught sight of the colourful bruising coming out in blotchy stripes along your ribs as you lifted your top up over your head. Just as your arms came up, you felt a crippling pain in your side.
“Hey– woah! Woah!” He shot up from the bed and steadied you as you winced, helping to pull the clothing from over your head. He lowered you down to the bed, looking closer at the bruising. “You alright?”
“As long as I don’t move.” You smiled wryly. “No, really. It’s fine. Just hurts to stretch up.”
“Stay here. I’ll get some ice.”
You clutched your side. "Yeah, sounds good.“
He put his undershirt back on and strode out the door, returning a few minutes later with a bag of ice from the outside freezer. His hair and clothes were wet. Sitting down beside you, he took his discarded flannel shirt and wrapped the bag in it, before gently pressing it against your side. You grimaced at the cold.
You’d known him long enough, now, that he didn’t need to apologise for making you wince, or to ask if it felt better. You understood that that was what he was saying from his body – the way his shoulders moved when you recoiled from his touch; the way his other hand gently held onto your side; by the look in his eyes. Words would be inadequate or ruin the moment. Silence was easier.
You’d been sat quietly for a while when you moved your hand over his forearm, squeezing gently. He didn’t move it. He let it sit there until the ice had melted. The only sound to be heard was the heavy rain steadily lashing the windows. Then he helped you to bed, finished undressing, and went to sleep.
Sometimes he drove you so crazy that you wondered why you’d ever fallen for him in the first place. But it was at times like these that there was nothing clearer.
It was 2:37 am and you still hadn’t fallen asleep. It was impossible.
It had turned out that sleeping in the same bed wasn’t as embarrassing and dreadful as you’d thought it’d be – that was, until John had turned over in his sleep and wrapped his arm around you, subsequently eliminating any physical space between the two of you.
You swallowed again for the third time in under a minute. His crotch was pressed into your ass, his hard-on fitting right between your legs, brushing you through your underwear. Your pulse was somewhere uncomfortably between 'resting’ and 'about to have a heart attack’, and your face was so red and flushed that you could feel it spreading to the rest of your body.
You felt him stir a little in his sleep and move to get more comfortable, his cock pressing harder against you, while his arm around you made it impossible to wriggle away. You muffled your gasp as you felt his cock press deeper into you. The throbbing in your pussy strengthened, your wet heat pooling rapidly between your legs. It felt so wrong, but just the sensation of him against you – the thought of what he could do to you.
A small groan escaped his lips as he shifted minutely, his cock gently rubbing against you, his breath brushing against the nape of your neck. You felt your hips angling back into him on their own, your hand covering your mouth as your breath became hoarse. It had to stop or you knew you’d regret it.
You attempted to struggle free from under his arm, carefully peeling the dead weight from your body. But as you lowered his arm to the bed, he suddenly began to wake, breathing in sharply as his eyes opened. You stared at him in the dark, petrified that he’d realise what just happened.
He shifted towards you as he sat up and allowed his eyes to focus in the light.
"Can’t sleep?” His voice was deep and gravelly from tiredness. He groaned quietly as he rubbed his eyes.
“…Yeah, you could say that.” You swallowed hard and turned to him.
“Was I snoring?” he asked good-naturedly.
“…Uh…no. No, you weren’t.”
A grin curled at the edges of his lips. “Is there a reason you’re blushing like that?”
Your brain froze. “Uh – I…I’m not blushing…am I?” you stammered, your hands wandering nervously over your face. How could he possibly have noticed that in such dim light?
“What’s got you so steamed up?” He said it jokingly – almost knowingly. “I catch you at a bad time?” The tone of his voice implied you were in the middle of getting yourself off. Little did he know that he wasn’t entirely wrong.
Looking at him in that light, with an abundance of adrenaline and lust pumping round your body, something inside you turned on. Something explicit. Easing yourself up, you lifted your leg over him, pushed his shoulders back against the headboard, and lowered down on his lap. Your hands wandered up his neck and behind his head, pulling him closer to you.
“It’s you, John.” You were breathless. “It’s always been you. It’s you that gets me this steamed up. You make me want to do things to you.” Your lips brushed against each other’s as your eyes flitted over his face. You gently rocked your hips against him, feeling him harden against you.
For a brief moment, the tension was so taught that you thought he was going to give in. Then a gentle laugh can form his throat.
“You wanted to get it in early, huh?” You stared back blankly, confused. “Your prank. April Fool’s, right? Good effort, Y/N. You almost had me.”
It took a moment for what he was saying to sink in. When it finally did, you felt a surge of embarrassment-induced rage growing in the pit of your stomach.
“April Fool’s?!” you said sharply. You sank under a wave of embarrassment, giving way to the rising anger.
“What the fuck, John?!”
He paused, shaken by your tone. “Excuse me?”
“You are such an asshole!” You clenched your fists and let them fly, however ineffectually, at his chest.
“Hey! Quit it!” he protested, trying to block your fists. But you refused to stop, continuing to mutter 'April Fool’s?’ through gritted teeth. “Stop messing around, Y/N!” He was getting sterner, the volume of his voice rising.
“You fucking jerk!”
“I SAID STOP!” he barked, seizing your wrists and holding them still as you struggled against him. But it was no use. He could have snapped your arms in two if he wanted.
“SHUT THE HELL UP!” yelled a muffled voice through the wall, accompanied by a loud thump on the wall. It wasn’t much, but it managed to sever the tension, the silence giving you both a brief moment to cool off.
Seeing the look of fear on your face, your eyes glassy with tears, he immediately let go of your wrists, burying his face in his hand with a sigh. In the argument, you’d slid off of his lap and onto the mattress. You rubbed your wrists, still aware of the warm, painful rings of pressure where he’d grabbed you.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. It wasn’t often you heard those words pass his lips. “You should’ve just stopped, Y/N. You can’t mess around with stuff like that.” You bit back the anxious, rising feeling in your chest, nodding ironically.
“Messing around?” You took a deep breath and sat up.
Gently taking hold of his hand, you slowly slid it inside your underwear, his hand cupping your cunt. You took in a short breath as you felt the coolness of his fingers sliding between the lips of your dripping pussy. You looked him in the eyes, something sultry beneath the surface. “You still think I’m messing around?”
It was like a moment of suspension; unfolding the meaning, running over whether he should or he shouldn’t. Eyes flitting, breath hastening, pulse quickening. A brief hesitation. Then his lips were on yours, pushing you down against the bed with the raw strength of carnal urge. His body felt like it was shaking. He kissed down your neck, down your torso, his hands exploring every inch. Your eyes fluttered shut as he pinned you down. You could still hear that damn, incessant rain.
Eventually, he pulled back, out of breath.
“Those things you said– you mean ‘em?” He rested his forehead on yours, holding himself back from your lips.
“Every word.” John slowly kissed your neck, nipping your earlobe.
“So what kind of things are we talking about, here?” Your breath caught in your throat.
“I want to be yours,” you breathed.
“I need details,” he grinned, his hand snaking down your body. His fingers slid between your wet, swollen lips, parting them slowly and teasing the rim of your entrance. “You wanna feel me inside you?” As you nodded, the tips of his fingers grazed your hard clit, eliciting a sound from inside you. “You wanna ride my dick with your tight, little pussy?” You nodded, feeling his finger slide inside you with ease. “You wanna feel my cum inside you?” He slid a second finger inside, both curling round and beginning to pump in and out of you. You nodded.
“Fuck, yes,” you whimpered, stammering as he expertly fingered you. “Please, John. Fuck me. I need to feel you inside me.” His thumb gently encircled your clit.
“How much? How bad do you want me inside you?” He took your mouth aggressively, occasionally breaking free to continue pulling off your clothes. You rose up to meet him on your knees, impatiently helping him remove his t-shirt. Seeing his torso exposed made you pause, taking it in: wide and strong, with short, dark hairs curling over the contours. Your insides pulsed. You pushed him down, seizing his mouth for a minute, before inching backwards and dragging off his boxers.
You bit your lip as his cock came free, thick and hard. Crawling back on top of him, you felt his smile against your lips, his hands holding you firmly by the waist. He rolled over, pinning you beneath him, and paused momentarily before guiding himself to your entrance and easing his himself forwards.
“Fuuck…” he groaned as you enveloped his cock.
You gasped as the first few inches of him eased inside, stretching you almost painfully. He took a moment to allow you to adjust before he began thrusting – slowly and shallowly in order to ease you into it. Small groans fell from your throat as he began to reach deeper inside you, the sound of him plunging inside your pussy wet and loud. You lifted your legs up around his waist, angling your hips for his faster, deeper thrusts. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, maintaining a forceful pace.
“You feel that?” you whispered, your walls squeezing around his length, clinging to him and making it harder for him to pull out of you. His ragged breath was hot on your neck. “That’s how much I fucking want you, John.”
Grabbing your jaw with his coarse hands, he pulled you onto his mouth, his hips driving harder inside you. As his thumb brushed over your mouth, you closed your lips around it, sucking on it as you focused on the sensations filling your body as he pounded into you.
“God, fuck…” he muttered under his breath, every muscle in his face straining. His body was tense and unyielding as he tried to hold off his orgasm.
“Fuck, John…please, go deeper…” you begged.
Hooking your leg over his shoulder, he angled his hips and slid all the way in to the hilt. Your eyelids fluttered as you cried out lewdly, the full length of his cock buried deep inside you. Your hips now rose up to meet his every thrust, craving every last inch of his thick cock he had to give.
“Fuck, I don’t think I can–!” You felt him tense up against you before he suddenly came, releasing a thick load inside you, moaning loudly as his legs fell limp against you. As soon as he could manage, he sat up, his eyes wide and terrified. “Shit,” he muttered, wiping his forehead. “I didn’t…” The words wouldn’t come to him. He ran his hands through his soft, tousled hair, and you smiled inwardly at how adorable he was when he was concerned. Crawling over to him, you planted a deep, passionate kiss on his lips, before raising your lips to his ears.
“I liked feeling you fill me up with your cum,” you whispered. You heard him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing prominently. You gently grasped his cock and began stroking him back up to full height again. “I said I wanted to feel it. I’d love to feel it again.”
“You mean you’re not…pissed?” he asked, warily. A breathless groan escaped his lips as you rubbed his cock.
“Do I look pissed?” Getting down on your knees, you enveloped the tip of his cock with your lips, pulling weak, vulnerable whimpers from his throat. You licked and sucked his cock until he was rock-hard, twitching and pulsing. “You’re so sensitive,” you breathed, swirling your tongue around his leaking head. “I can’t wait for everything you have to be inside me.”
Climbing on top of him, you guided him to your entrance, slowly lowering down onto his length, taking him deep inside you. Your pussy throbbed hard against his cock as you rocked your hips. As you picked up the pace, the sound of your mixed juices filled the room. John watched you taking in his cock, over and over. It wasn’t long before he was thrusting up into you.
You were both breathing hard, your bodies slick with sweat as you relentlessly rode him. John took hold of your hips, grinding you harder against his cock, while you started encircling your swollen clit.
“Fuck! John, I’m so close!” you breathed, a burning sensation spreading across your thighs. He was becoming more vocal, moans slipping out and fueling the pleasure mounting inside you. Your walls pulsed around him, squeezing his length, as you neared your climax.
“Shit, me too…” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut, trying desperately not to cum from the sensation of you pulsing around him.
“Ahh! Fuck – John!” Your desire snapped, sending a shockwave of quivering pleasure radiating through your body. Your back straightened as your walls spasmed around his cock, your hips riding him through it, tipping him over the edge. With a final thrust, he gave in, spurting jets of thick, hot cum inside you, filling your pussy.
As cum slowly dribbled out of your cunt and down his softening shaft, you were overcome with exhaustion and collapsed onto his chest. You managed to slide him out of you as you felt the heavy blanket of sleep drawing your eyelids shut. And the last thing you remembered was how warm and safe you felt curled up in his arms.
You woke with the morning light to John’s soft eyes, a gentle smile on his lips.
“What?” you asked shyly, shifting a little under the duvet to face him.
“I’m just thinkin’ about how beautiful you are.” Your face began to heat up, an unstoppable smile tugging at your cheeks.
“Stop,” you said bashfully.
“It’s the truth.” John pulled the duvet away from your face, where you’d bunched up it to cover the pink in your cheeks. “You’ve always been beautiful.” He put his hand on the dip in your waist, running his thumb gently over your skin.
Your eyes ran unashamedly over his body, taking in the muscles, the cuts, and the bruises and scars. Without looking, you knew he was doing the same. Your fingertips ran over an old scar that cut across his shoulder, while his hand gently touched your bruised ribs. Looking up at him, you held the side of his face, your thumb brushing over his mouth.
“I just never thought I’d hear it from these lips.”
“They’ve wanted to say it more times than you know,” he whispered, taking your hand and kissing it, before pulling you in and taking your mouth with his. Your body melted against him as you moved on top of you, holding the base of your jaw. His other hand stroked the tousled locks of your hair as they sprawled over the pillow. Your legs tangled around his, spreading for him on their own.
As he pulled away from you, you thought to yourself how much the smile on his face suited him, and wished he could bring himself to do it more often. The sparkle of his eyes made your heart swell, and those dimples were going to be the death of you. But you knew it wasn’t fair to ask it of him.
He paused over you, just enjoying his view of you.
“I can’t believe I almost missed out on this.” His head shook in disbelief. “You must think I’m such jerk.” It came out as an airy laugh.
“I did,” you said saucily. “That’s what the fists were for, remember?”
“Yeah, but– there you were coming on to me, and I said you were pulling a prank. To your face. God, I am such an ass,” he laughed, more from dismay than anything else.
“I know!” You laughed along with him until it subsided. “Why did you? Think I was joking?” you asked seriously. It was a question that had been bothering you in the back of your mind.
John paused. “You think I go around thinking pretty, young women are into me? A scruffy, washed-out nobody who’s almost old enough to be your father?” You were silent while your heart twinged in your chest. He sounded so…tired.
“Maybe…But who also happens to be brave, and strong, and smart, and who saves more lives than anyone would believe– including mine. John, you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.” You paused, allowing him to process everything, before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to you with a glint in your eye. “Besides– your age happens to be a huge turn on.” John cracked a smile, pinning your hands above your head.
“Oh yeah? You like getting it on with an old man?”
“Mmm, you bet,” you grinned, feeling the giggles building in your chest as he showered you in pecks and kisses.
“Let me guess – it’s the dad bod,” he joked between kisses. “I’m right, aren’t I?” You tried to flap him away as you wriggled with laughter, his lips tickling every part of your body that they touched. “Girls always dig a dad bod.” Your legs held tighter onto his body as you play-fought, inching ever closer to the edge of the bed. “Or the grey hair,” he continued, quizzically stroking his stubble. You let out a bubbly laugh.
“You’re not even going grey!”
“Yet,” he said, with a warning finger, before cracking. “Just you wait. In a few years, I’ll be–”
Suddenly, there was no mattress left to fall onto. You both tumbled off of the bed with a thud, followed by a brief silence, before going right back to laughing, this time unable to hold anything in. You sat up with your back against the side of the bed, creasing over, while John laid on his back, appearing to have given up using his core muscles while they spasmed.
Just as the last of the laughter had faded, John sat up and pulled your lips to his. It was deep and passionate – more so than anything you had ever felt. When he pulled away, you gasped for air, feeling the desire lighting within you.
It didn’t need to be said.
John lifted you up, sitting you down on the edge of the bed as he kissed you, his hands feeling your breasts. Breaking away, you laid back and spread your legs as you watched him stroke himself until he was hard and ready. You felt yourself moisten below as he hand rose and fell over his thick cock, and bit your lip.
He got down on his knees, his hands running down the insides of your thighs as he pressed his mouth to your cunt. He kissed and licked, the tip of his tongue exploring every inch of your slickness, sucking on your clit and teasing the entrance of your pussy as you writhed beneath him.
As your stomach tightened and your hips rose up to meet him, his hands clamped down, holding you close against his mouth. As he worked, his stubble scratched and prickled at your skin. You moaned softly as his tongue swirled around your hardening clit, your body fighting to move with him, the sounds of him eating you out only making you wetter. The pleasure built inside you, tensing your body and making it harder to breathe.
“Fuck, John…I’m - I’m going to–” The tension gave way and pleasure flooded your body, radiating out from between your legs. You let out a long, mewling cry as your body spasmed against him.
John crawled up onto the bed, kneeling under your legs and kissed you forcefully as he guided the tip of his cock to your entrance. He eased his hips forward, sinking his entire length inside you with a deep, guttural groan, before pulling out and thrusting back in again with more vigour. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, accompanied by your heavy breaths and fleeting moans.
It was closer – more personal – than before. Everything he did was similar but somehow different. There was something about the way he thrust inside you, the way he held you, and the way his forehead rested against yours, that was more intimate than the night before. Your bodies felt hotter, more connected, and it filled you with vitality.
Hooking both of your legs over his shoulders, he increased his pace. The bed creaked loudly with the force of his thrusts, your arousal dripping from your pussy and slathering his length with every insertion. He frowned, deep in focus as he neared his climax far too early for his own liking.
Feeling him close to breaking, you gently pushed your hand against his chest. He sat up from you, allowing his twitching cock to slip from inside you. You gave him a moment to recover, before getting down on your hands and knees, inviting him to take you from behind.
He sat up on his knees and pressed his cock against your pussy. Taking hold of your ass, he fitted the head of his cock into your pussy and slammed forwards. He quickly reached a brutal pace as he ploughed into you, balls deep with every thrust, your tight pussy eagerly taking in every inch and pulsing around his shaft for more.
“God, fuck…fuck…fuck,” he groaned. “So tight…” His hands groped your ass before spanking you hard as he fucked you from behind. You let out a whimper as his hand connected with your skin, feeling your ass and breasts move back and forth with his thrusts. He continued to pound into you, every thrust reaching deeper, the curve of his cock putting pressure into your G-spot.
“Oh, God– right there, John!” you mewled, your legs spread wide for him. “Fuck– right there!” Your hips backed up onto him as he moved, angling up against him.
His arm wrapped around your torso, raising you up so you sat on his cock, your back against his chest. One hand toyed with your breast while the other held your throat. He slowed his pace, making deep, forceful thrusts up into you, kissing and biting your exposed neck. You reached around behind you, holding onto the nape of his neck.
“God, I love you,” he whispered into your ear. A shiver spread across your skin, the familiar sensation of tension building in your stomach. You tried to speak, but all that came out was an arousing moan. His cock twitched and pulsed inside you, threatening to cum at any moment.
He let go of you, allowing you to fall flat onto your stomach with your pussy in the air, just begging to be filled. He moved in close, inserting himself inside you, and quickly picking up the pace. As the pleasure mounted inside you, you felt your insides begin to pulse as he slid in and out of your sensitive pussy, fucking you into the mattress.
“You want me to cum inside you again?” he asked, barely able to speak.
“Fuck, please!” you begged, before feeling yourself tip over the edge. Your vision blurred as your mind emptied and your insides spasmed around his driving cock. After a few more thrusts, you felt his hips buckle as he released inside you, before collapsing next to you on the bed.
Breathing heavily as you came down from your high, you turned over and buried your face in his chest.
“I love you too.”
Somehow the world seemed brighter. The sky was bluer, the grass was greener, the little, white clouds were fluffier. You felt strangely alive.
“Can’t believe how much the weather’s brightened up,” you said cheerily, peering out the passenger window of the Impala. The road slipped along under the car as she roared down the highway with nothing but open road ahead of her.
John nodded, peaking left and right at the scenery.
“Yeah, that storm last night sure cleared up the atmosphere.” He paused for a moment, his thumb drumming along to the song on the steering wheel. “We should stop for breakfast soon. What do you want?”
You’d left the motel early in the morning so John could get back to Sam and Dean as soon as possible.
“Pancakes!” you said, clapping your hands together.
John chuckled. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.” You were both was silent for a while, still clearly a little nervous about the new situation. “We’re making good headway,” he piped up after a while. “Should be back by mid-afternoon.” Given what had happened, you suddenly had new anxieties about seeing the boys again.
“John…what if they don’t like me?” you said quietly, turning your knees towards him. John frowned.
“What do you mean? The boys love you. You know that.”
“Yeah. As their dad’s work friend who brings them Hershey’s and Hubba Bubba. Not…” You breathed out heavily. “I don’t want them to think that I’m trying to replace their mum.” John’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “That’s the last thing I want. But they’re kids, and I don’t expect them to understand how complicated it is.”
John’s tapes buzzed in the background of the silent cabin, somehow amplifying it. He sighed heavily.
“Look. I’m sure they’re going to be okay with it – I can’t think why they wouldn’t be. But we can take it slow if that’s what you want.” You nodded sheepishly, your thumbs twiddling in your lap. “Things’ll turn out alright. You’ll see.” Sensing the mood-vacuum, John’s demeanour changed. “Besides– if things carry on like last night, we’ll be just fine.”
He winked at you with a sly grin, making you blush as you remembered everything you’d done. Your gaze dropped to his crotch and you bit your lip. Reaching out, you rested your hand on his thigh.
“Pull over and I’ll give you a blowjob,” you said brazenly. John looked over, his eyes flicking between you and the road.
“You serious?” he asked, hopeful. A grin spread across your lips.
“Psych. April Fool’s,” you said brightly. John sighed heavily over the wheel, chuckling to himself.
“Shit, you got me,” he said, a little defeated. “A fitting payback for last night, I suppose.” You adjusted smugly in your seat, watching the road disappear in front of you until John coughed. “You sure you couldn’t find it in your heart to take pity on this humble hunter and change your mind?”
“We’ll see,” you said coyly as you reached over and began rubbing him through his jeans. He let out a heavy breath, his hips moving into you a little.
“Oh – you are getting fucked so hard tonight,” he said, his voice low and gruff. The tape switched over and the opening bars of Back in Black by AC/DC started playing. You fought the grin pulling at your lips.
“I’m counting on it.”