Though neither of you two had planned on having anything more than a simple one night together, here you found yourself back in the motel room with Dean — oh, boy.

It had all started one night at the bar, when he’d bought you a drink, and the two of you hit it off pretty well. After a while of back and forth flirting, Dean had subtly hinted to you he wanted to get out of there and go somewhere more, well, private, to which you agreed.

You spent the night together and went separate ways again the following morning.

Until, as if routine, you two wound up in the exact same spot at the exact same time. Again. And again. And again.

And despite knowing near to nothing about each other, every time you ran into each other, one of you took the other home. So on, and so forth. Which is how the two of you wound up in this situation in the first place.

With the blinds shut, the lights down low and no sound but that of your own breaths, the two of you shared yet another night like many of the others.

“Miss me, huh?” Dean practically grunted, his lips hungrily peppering kisses along your neck and throat, hands firmly gripping your hips like a vice.