SPN Imagines... (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Dean Not Being Able To Say 'I love You'

You were half asleep when you felt yourself being pushed out of bed. And then suddenly you landed smack onto the cheap motel carpet butt first. You groaned and pushed yourself up, staring back at the giant Sasquatch that sprawled across the mattress leaving no room for you.

You sighed, about to take your pillow and get comfortable on the floor when you heard the rustle of the comforters on the bed next to you move. You looked up to see Dean shuffle over to the other side, turning down the blankets for you to climb in.

You'd had a fight with him earlier over something stupid and chose to share a bed with Sam for the night; a choice you were regretting now as you rubbed your tailbone.

He patted the open spot when you hesitated and reluctantly crawled in next to him, quickly turning yourself away and curling up on the edge of the bed. You heard him take a deep breath and exhale heavily before the mattress dipped and you felt an arm wrap around your waist, pulling your back flush to his chest.

He held you tight when you tried to wiggle away, easily keeping you in place and turning your head to face him with a hand on your chin. Then his lips met yours in the cover of darkness, all soft and supple like, but you didn't respond. Still mad and annoyed over the day you'd had.

He pulled away and sighed again, his forehead resting against yours as his fingers combed through your hair. Then, he brushed your cheek with his lips and once again before he dipped his head down, kissing you with a little more need this time. You slowly melted into it, your lips parting to let his bottom lip fit between them. You tasted his scruff when you playfully tugged his lip between your teeth and rolled your body to face him. His hand cupped your cheek, fingertips feeling your velvety skin as they traced a line down to your collarbone where your shirt got in the way. He continued trailing his hand down your body stopping to knead one of your breasts through the thin cotton before his hand dipped under your shirt and caressed your waist.

You whimpered at the feel when he firmly gripped your hip and pulled you closer, a shiver running down to your toes. He'd spent months mapping out the sensitive spots of your body and lingered on them coaxing you to forgive him.

You panted when he finally broke the kiss. Moaning as you let him nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, sucking a mark into the flesh under your jaw and nipping at your shoulder. You were too far gone to be mad anymore and he had you right where he wanted you.

He knew just how to play you, make you forget about everything. You loved that about him, you loved him and you didn't care anymore if he never said it back. You knew he felt the same with the way he tucked you into himself, snuggling closer and tangling his legs with yours, his hands feeling every inch of your soft, heated skin. Maybe he couldn't say it back, but he showed you in the way he held you, his gentle touches, and meaningful glances; that's how you knew. He loved you, too. Every minute of every day.