#because i actually wrote a smut scene in 1500 words

[zenkindoflove]

10 desperately

For Elucien, but like, not an established relationship.

10...desperately.

Okay, Anon. This one got smutty. I mean, I read desperately and that's where my brain went. So this is very NSFW.

10…desperately

Elain closed her bedroom door, taking her first deep breath of the day. 

He was here, of course. And because he was here, that meant that her body was not her own. Her nose could always pick up his scent, even when he was in the adjacent room. Her eyes always found him, trailing over his lean frame, noticing how nicely his pants fit him. And her ears could hear the consistent beating of his heart, thud thud, thud thud, thud thud. 

It also meant that a more primal possession controlled her emotions. The part of her that ached for his touch.

She ignored it, of course. It was improper and senseless. Her mate was still a stranger to her, and despite the call of the mating bond, Elain was determined to maintain some of her dignity. 

An entire day of ignoring her instincts left her sore and sensitive. As she slipped on her nightgown, the brush of the fabric against her nipples infused a whimper in her throat. She squeezed her core, her sex tingling with desire. It had been like this since she was Made. As a human, she remembered having a libido, but whether it was being a Fae or the mating bond, Elain found that her sexual hunger could be insatiable at times. Lucien usually had the good sense to not stay the night, and she was able to take care of her needs without him in the house. However, tonight she had heard him agree to Feyre’s offer, citing that he had a little too much to drink. 

She could still hear his heart beating through the wall. He was put in the room down the hall, and if she listened close enough, she was sure she could hear his feet rustling against the floor as he got ready for bed. 

She slid under her covers, keeping her hands over the comforter. She closed her eyes, laying on her side, squeezing her thighs tightly together. She could ignore this. She could fall asleep. 

Her thoughts drifted as she laid there. She thought about what Lucien could be doing at that very moment. Was he lying in bed as well? Did he sleep in pajamas, or just sleep pants? Maybe he wore nothing to bed at all. Maybe beneath his sheets, he was hard, his cock aching to be touched like her pussy ached now. Maybe he ran his hand over himself, rubbing his palm against his shaft once to try and relieve some of the pressure. 

Elain rolled over on her stomach, pulling her top sheet around her and bunching it up underneath. She grinded her mound against it, seeking pressure on her throbbing clit. She knew that this alone wasn’t enough to fully satisfy her, but maybe she could soothe the growing need. Chase it away, at least until morning. She thought of Lucien. She had never seen his body, but she had a fantasy in her mind of what he would look like. She rocked her hips, biting her lip as the little release of pleasure only built her growing momentum. It seemed to only make her hunger worse. She groaned, rolling on her back as she stared up at the ceiling. 

She felt something new. Some new desire filled her chest. It was raw and jagged. It sunk its teeth into her and she purred, letting the new sensation stroke her up and down. Up and down, and then Elain realized, this desire was not her own. She popped her eyes open in surprise, as she pieced together what was happening. She was feeling Lucien’s arousal down the bond. And he was…taking care of himself. 

It was still her imagination, but she could see him more clearly now. He was naked, lying on his back in bed, stroking his erection in his fist, his head thrown back with his eyes closed shut. 

Elain bunched the bottom of her nightgown in her fists, pulling it up and over her breasts. She usually didn’t wear underwear to bed, and she immediately slid her fingers through her folds. She was soaking wet, her day-long arousal making her slick and ready. She explored first, feeling how swollen she had become, toying with her entrance as she tweaked one of her nipples, until she focused on the spot that she knew would take her all the way. She rubbed her clit slowly, more than familiar now with how much pressure and speed she needed. She could make this quick. If she could feel him, she knew he would be able to feel her. It terrified and excited her all at once. 

It was different this time. It felt like she had an audience, and it made her even more sensitive. She stroked her clit faster and faster, already a surge building inside of her. She could feel Lucien peaking too, his energy ferocious and needy. But just as she approached the edge of oblivion, she suddenly hit a wall. Her acceleration stopped and she petered out. 

“No,” she whined, and she tore her nightgown over her head. She still ached, having the distinct need to be filled, and filled by something big. Something that was just on the other side of the bond, still edging on the brink. 

She felt desperate. She knew she wasn’t thinking straight, but she had been dealing with all of this on her own for two, long, excruciating years. Her body was not her own as it tugged on the bond. 

Lucien winnowed in front of her bed in an instant, completely naked. His eyes trailed over her body, drinking her in before he prowled forward on his hands and knees across the bed. His body was even better than she imagined. All lean muscles and broad, thick shoulders and biceps. Elain held her breath as he hovered over her, and she darted her sight down, taking in that thick cock that stood in attention against his flat abs. He didn’t speak, and he didn’t touch her, as he waited for her to make the first move. 

She snatched him by the back of his head and pulled his face down to kiss him. She poured her desperation into that kiss. The need for him that never stopped bleeding. The pain of her own stubbornness, of her fear and her reluctance. How she couldn’t bring herself to think of what a first step might be. What knowing him would do to her. How she understood that after just one touch, she would be his forever. How she kept herself at a distance, not ready for forever yet. 

But oh, she had to be ready now, didn’t she? 

Her kiss was a signal for Lucien to finally let go. He kissed her with tongue, diving and lapping at hers, showing her exactly what the promise of his body held. His mouth never left hers as he slid his fingers through her slit, picking up where she left off as he circled her clit until she clung to his shoulders, and he swallowed her cry of ecstasy while she climaxed against his hand. 

As Elain came down from her high, the aching, desperate need was gone, satiated by Lucien’s expert fingers. But a new temptation cast a spell over her. She hooked her knees over Lucien’s hips, crossing her legs behind him as she pulled him flush against her sex. As Lucien tore his mouth away from hers, she chased after him with her tongue, swiping a lick over his teeth and lips. He dropped his face to the crook of her neck, inhaling with a deep sniff, before groaning and pulling his hips back. He reached a hand between them, lining his cock up at her entrance. 

He didn’t push inside of her immediately, and Elain grew impatient with his hesitancy. She practically growled, tightening her legs around his ass and pushing him forward. 

She only took moments to adjust before Lucien quickened his thrusts. They both knew this would be fast, neither of them considering taking it slow. This wasn’t about learning each other's bodies. This was about soothing a burn. Elain grabbed a fist full of Lucien’s hair, tugging him down so that he could kiss her again. She wanted him to fill her mouth as well as her pussy. He pounded into her, his hard, fast movements building her up again, this time to a peak fiercer and more dangerous. Elain realized she was meeting his thrusts too, jutting her hips forward so that her clit grinded against his pelvis. She forgot about being quiet, and as her orgasm crashed through her, the most feral wail rang out of her throat. Lucien groaned as he collapsed on top of her, chanting the word “Fuck” over and over into her ear. 

Elain loosened the grip on his hair, running her hands over his scalp in a gentle caress. Her entire body tingled, a hazy, blissful fog making her forget that she and Lucien had barely spoken ten words to each other since they met. She cradled him, loving the way he felt still hard inside of her. Once the haze faded, she knew they were in for the most awkward pillow talk of all time. But for now, she basked in the moment, feeling whole inside her body for the first time. 

Kiss prompts.

[monstrous-femme]

Have you ever felt embarrassed posting fic?? I have so many ideas and I really enjoyed doing stuff for fsw but I cringe at the thought of writing anything else?? Or at creating anything generally? I don't know why and I really want to get over it n u seem insightful about this stuff.

(feel free to answer public or priv I don't mind, also feel free to ignore me entirely x)

I love this question bc I think it's about art and vulnerability and imperfection and those are things I think about a lot! (Alternatively, I may be viewing this question through the lenses of art and vulnerability and imperfection BECAUSE I think about those things a lot.)

If I tried to make this all connect it'd be a 1500+ word essay, so instead I'm going to provide some random thoughts and you can connect them however works for you:

1. No fic I write is ever going to get the number of kudos of a very mid Drarry fic I wrote when I was 18. It plagues me that this is my most-read story. I also refuse to take it down. It might still be meaningful to someone, even if it's not too me, and it did mean something to 18 year old me and I want to respect that. But the real reason I keep it up is because I don't want people to think my new, better work appeared from nowhere. I write so well now in part because I wrote a random 50k Drarry fic in high school. Writing it helped me become the writer I became.

2. I think a lot about the cartoon of a dog(?) playing piano with the caption "He plays very poorly, but it keeps him from destroying things."

3. I make paintings and don't post them because they aren't beautiful but I am still glad I paint, and when I first started making earrings I didn't understand how to use little beads to hold big beads in place so things often fell apart.

4. Someone who I met while writing fanfiction and meta for a tiny webseries fandom became such a dear friend that she flew across the country for my wedding party.

5. Many of the best scenes from In Her Hips are ones that scared or embarrassed me to write.

6. While we're on the subject of embarrassment, those smut scenes/fics I wrote that y'all like so much? Literally almost couldn't handle posting them but I bet you're glad I did 😉.

7. When my poetry collection came out and we did a reading and discussion, one of the members of my poetry cohort talked about the paradox of vulnerability, how we think that people will only connect with us if we write broadly but it is actually only in the personal details that we manage to connect. I really, really want to connect with other people. It feels like the most important thing I can do.

8. If you write your stories and never show them to anyone else, I promise they still matter.

9. If you write stories and choose to share them, I promise they will not matter less with someone else's gaze on them.

10. It's terrifying to be perceived because we can't control what other people see when they look at us. When I let myself be perceived, it's like admitting that I want to be loved, and the terrifying thing about admitting that I want something is that I may not get it. I may lose in public. I may be seen as small and human and wanting. There is no way around this.

I hope this somehow answers your question.

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

I guess even I surprise myself sometimes. And not in a good way, but in a funny and disquieting way.

Oh dear god, last weekend when I spent literally over 12 hours writing (and ended up with 13 pages - half a page I needed to scrap, though it's still in my document in case I want to use part of it) and researching, it was like 12am when I finally got to ~the action~ and I was too tired to actually write it so I just described it and THE DESCRIPTION ALONE, which was more like a guide/notes for myself to actually write it (complete with 'lol's and '*screaming, crying, etc*'), was 3000 words. WHEN I! CANNOT REMEMBER! The last time I even WROTE smut! So WHY IS IT OVER 3000 WORDS?! I'M DEAD. Like, I really cannot tell if it's 3000 words because I have not written smut in a long time, or if it's 3000 words because it's just a description for me to actually write the real scene later, so the actual scene will be shorter? ...maybe both are true. Either way, LMFAO, I am highly amused. And kind of horrified. I feel like good smut is written in like...maybe 1500-2000 words tops, while half that amount is average. Even though I almost never write physical descriptions without some emotional context, also, aka erotica in this case (I believe that's an accurate descriptor for it, anyway), which tends to make my writing longer...

Anyway...if I can finally motivate myself to actually write it, I guess I'll find out...what happens with it...

And before anyone asks, no, I have zero intentions of sharing this publicly. Thank. :)

[em-writes-stuff-sometimes]

I’m emotionally preparing for your take on the dance, cuz I know there will be some sadness BUT at the same time weirdly excited? You’re creating such a great story and I know it’s going to be a wild ride. I love how this started as the best smutty one shot and evolved into a beautifully built world with complex characters I’m obsessed with. Plus we still get well fed with the dirty scenes. Not to go on a full tangent but I hate it when it’s supposed to be a nsfw work and the characters have sex one time and then lose the spark/never touch each other again. You on the other hand are multitasking with the plot and building on to each smut scene and making them hotter. I’ve basically gained new kinks thanks to this fic and the asks. Overstimulated Daemon is going in the spank bank right along with chapter 7 😳😅

No but seriously, I really admire what a great writer you are and it’s a joy to be part of the feral fan club 🥰

Thank you so much! I want to show the progression of their relationship in a multitude of ways, with both plot AND smut haha. Daemon's a guy with a wealth of experience, and probably a bunch of really unsavoury kinks - it'd be fun having a test-run at each of these with babey Reader lol.

I honestly don't know how this evolved into a full-fledged fic; I've never been able to write anything beyond a one-shot before, and of course that is how this fic began (I originally posted the bedding scene on AO3 and decided to go back and add more backstory, then went on from there, then wrote a prequel, then now we here omg). I've read an embarrassing amount of smut for characters with certain similarities to Daemon (I think unhinged, dominating, charismatic characters are my type I'm afraid), and it's been fairly easy to pick out some themes to explore in my own fic. Because I'm at a point in the series where I do have to include plot, I can't actually fit smut in every single chapter - but I don't want to overload the story with sexy-time either, as it would come at the cost of dumbing down the overarching story. I feel that a smut every 2-3 chapters is an okay sacrifice, and of course I do have a smut anthology thing I'm planning on doing (I'm wondering if I should bother with any exposition for that, or legit just go straight into the scene and write like 1500-2000 word filth for each chapter) - that may well be a permanently ongoing thing for me to continuously add to, to serve as additional or 'deleted' scenes or something.

Thank you for being a part of my ferals! I am so so thrilled to be getting such a warm response for this silly little idea I had!

[sleepymccoy]

sleepy’s fic masterlist

Doing this cos I wanted to! And I can’t find the short things I’ve written on tumblr half the time, so i wanted a place to go to find them. I’ll edit this whenever I post something new and give it a quick reblog when I do <3

Tumblr shorts

Inventions and Ice-cream

A chererful conversation between Crowley and Aziraphale about their favourite invention humans have come up with. Also read for hand holding, ice-cream, and macking out against the Bentley door. Goes hard on the hand holding stuff

1600-ish words

What kind of lover are you?

Filled a prompt, wing grooming by South Downs. It turned into something very soft, very loving, with some acknowledgement of the aftereffects of trauma and constant threat and the anxiety that would be on you from that. Also, some nice massaging and snark from the main two. I feel like I’m getting a hug when I read this, thb

1200-ish words

Chamomille

Aziraphale notices Crowley getting tired and swings into action with a prepared bedtime routine. Crowley is not consulted. Very short and sweet

350-ish words

Monsieur and Difficult Topics

Crowley and Aziraphale are having a meal together after the apocalypse. Crowley says they're not friends and a very challenging conversation follows as Aziraphale tries to correct this. This is a pre romance thing, so they finish having had a worthwhile conversation, not leaping into dating

2000-ish words

Burnt Coffee and Crosswords

Crowley stumbles out of bed and finds that Aziraphale has, yet again, snuck into his flat while he was asleep. Fluff and fondness ensue

1000-ish words

Absolutely Adorably Nauseating

Outsider POV of Aziraphale and Crowley having very dramatic public fights. Three different stories. Mainly meant to be funny, but has some nice fluff in it

2000-ish words

How can someone as clever as you be so handsome?

Aziraphale remembers Crowley calling him clever in an angry moment and fondly teases him for it. Very fluffy.

1000-ish words

Gifts

Through the years Crowley has been giving Aziraphale gifts that are, overwhelmingly, in poor taste. Fluffy and silly, has pictures

2000-ish words

An Unpleasant Suprise

A butteromens effort. The similar fics were Aziraphale saving Crowley from Gabriel, I wanted to do a twist that had Crowley more engaged in the fight. Turns into an awful lot of flirting and the like at the end, it’s a fun read. Quick warning for a brief decrip of gore from being burnt, but I move on pretty fast

3500-ish words

A New Eden

Filled a prompt; “I’m going to need you to put some underwear on before you say anything else.” It’s not sexy, but by the virtue of the prompt there is dick. Mostly speechless Crowley, though.

1200-ish words

Entirely Unapologetic

Filled a prompt; “so why did I have to punch that guy?” Features protective Crowley and blustering Aziraphale

500-ish words

Be Unashamed With Me

Crowley’s waiting for Aziraphale to leave a church and as he waits he gets a bit sad about his demon-hood and remembers how hopeless he was before he and Aziraphale got together. When Aziraphale joins him a lot of fluff and compliments follow to cheer Crowley up. Which works. Gets a bit flirty.

1500-ish words

Climb Every Mountain

In the biblical narrative, God tells Abraham to sacrifice his son, Isaac, on Moriah. Abraham begins to comply, when a messenger from God interrupts him. Abraham then sees a ram and sacrifices it instead. In the me narrative, Crowley does a favour for Aziraphale then swiftly changes his mind and doesn’t let the kid be killed.

1200-ish words

How Many Ways Can I Say...

A very short form fic, more a casual tumblr post, but it has some cute descriptions of different ways Aziraphale can sat I love you to Crowley

500-ish words

AO3 links

If You Like

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link to some relevant art

a take on the few days between apocalypse and the body switch, cos Aziraphale goes from surprised at Crowley offering to let him crash at his apartment, to swapping bodies and letting Crowley risk himself. So it’s following Aziraphale’s trauma and consideration. Lots of bed sharing and a very fluffy body-positivity ending with Aziraphale’s golden stretch marks.

10,000-ish words

Nothing’s Changed

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A week into July and Crowley has finished sleeping in. He gives Aziraphale a ring and receives a very frosty reception. Although Aziraphale insists nothing has changed, Crowley suspects otherwise. Fic includes Aziraphale pinching Crowley to prove he’s not dreaming

2000-ish words

Slipped My Mind

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Crowley and Aziraphale are so used to not being in a relationship that its quite easy to slip into old habits and forget that they’re allowed to touch now. A bit of angst, but mostly fluffy as they get used to this new normal.

6000-ish words

Requisite Lockdown Fic

link to tumblr promo post

This was actually a tumblr short fic I wrote, but it got crazy out of hand and the format is much easier on ao3 so I’m linking it here. Told entirely through phone calls in the same format as the lockdown youtube special. Crowley is setting boundaries for the first time and Aziraphale is struggling to adjust to these new rules. But it goes well

4000-ish words

To Seduce, Beguile, and Entice

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Crowley isn’t any good at seduction temptations. This comes up one night and Aziraphale is concerned because he’s seduced in Crowley’s name before. All part of the Arrangement. So, of course, the only solution is for Aziraphale to teach Crowley how to seduce. It gets out of hand quickly. The last chapter is post apocalypse and Crowley tries his hand at seducing Aziraphale in a very intentionally referential way, as a kind of method to express that he’s actually interested in a relationship.

10,000-ish words

Still Waking Up

link to some relevant art

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Follows the pair for about two years after the apocalypse as Crowley is behaving oddly and Aziraphale is figuring everything out. This is your trauma recovery fic! Crowley has nightmares and a fear of fire and some abandonment. Aziraphale is lonely and feels deeply incompetent and lost, as well as having not fully resolved some of his issues with Heaven. They learn how to be on their own side together rather than keeping it all separate and protective. Also, bed sharing.

30,000-ish words

Not Quite Human

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Omnipotent POV (but not god) that sorta swaps between them. It’s just a simple 18 hours or so in the shop on afternoon as they’ve begun to get more physically affectionate. This is a decent mutual pining fic. I tried to lean into the real not-human stuff they’ve both got going on. It’s your classic admission of love fic with plenty of panicking Crowley. Features some smut with a sex-positive, asexual Aziraphale and a sex-neutral, demisexual Crowley.

10,000-ish words

the kind of thing one says easily

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This is my silly take on an au. Everything is exactly the same but they actually communicate honestly occasionally. Wild, I know. We follow Crowley and Aziraphale through moments of time in their history (some canon friendly, like follow ons from scenes in the tv show, some made up) as Crowley quite simply tells Aziraphale that he loves him. And Aziraphale gets used to it and learns to be honest in return. Things really come to a head as the apocalypse approaches. The last chapter is a sex scene, but it’s very very loving rather than smutty.

15,000-ish words

Soft.

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This is a very fluffy fic. Crowley tells Aziraphale he has a nice body and it dredges up Aziraphale’s residual concerns over what Gabriel said and in the panic-fueled conversation that follows as Crowley tries to right his wrong they slowly step in sync into discussing their feelings and wants. This fic is the big three, communication, consent, and soft. (gets a bit sexy too, but it’s pretty tame)

10,000-ish words

Is It Worth It Yet

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Around abouts the 1000AD mark, in what would become Turkey a few hundred years later, Crowley sat down, took a breath, and told Aziraphale how he feels in a total trainwreck of a conversation. Chapter 1, that conversation. Of course, Aziraphale would then expect Crowley to bring it all up again after the apocalypse, and when he doesn't he decides to take matters into his own hands and broach the topic himself. It doesn't go as well as he'd hoped. Good ending tho, don't worry guys. If you need an overload of angst then a big old hug to pull you up again, this is a good one.

10,000-ish words

Summoned

link to relevant (lemon) art

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Post apocalypse, timeline unspecified. Heaven and Hell refangle the way humans summonings work so it only applies to Aziraphale and Crowley. This means Crowley finds himself summoned an awful lot more than usual. We see their relationship readjust after the apocalypse in snippets of moments as Crowley’s been summoned. It’s mostly fairly light hearted, but there’s a couple chapters of pretty good angst and one very sexy chapter at the end! Just straight up smut, of the light d/s variety

13,000-ish words

Try Some Pride On For A Day

link to some relevant art

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Shortly after the apocalypse, Aziraphale set a challenge down. Sin vs virtue. Each chapter shows an attempt from Crowley to get Aziraphale to succumb to sin, and Aziraphale tricking Crowley into performing a virtue. Some attempts are easier than others, some are impossible. They learn a lot about each other and slip into some unexpectedly honest moments. This one gets sexy but not out of hand. Aziraphale is pretty explicitly asexual.

20,000-ish words

Needed a break, gone to France x

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A few weeks after the apocalypse and Crowley goes to visit Aziraphale to find a note taped to his door. Panic, anxiety, and general sadness over being so broken up with ensue. This is a miscommunication fic with a writing style that leans toward humour rather than angst and has a nice fluffy ending with good asexual overtones

9000-ish words

Heresy

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Set 3000 years after the apocalypse. Crowley and Aziraphale live together and are romantic. They have been left not entirely alone by their old colleagues, but they are unthreatened so it’s all okay. Until one day Beelzebub and Gabriel drop by to visit in the most surprising way. This fic is my first and was written before the discussion of Beelzebubs pronouns kicked off, so I used the actresses pronouns (she/her) instead of they/them which I’ve used since when referring to Beelzebub

2500-ish words

[fangirlxwritesx67]

May Be Home, Chapter 9 Word count this chapter: 1500 Catch up here: Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7.  Chapter 8.  Characters: au rockstar!Dean Winchester x OFC Sasha. Song: Sounds of Someday, Radio Company Music

Tags: 18+, sex, smut, lots and lots of m/f sex in different ways (fingering, oral, penetrative) in different places (bed, table, car, shower), no condoms ever, enthusiastic consent, Daddy kink, language, lots of alcohol, sexy eating, etc

Dean Winchester was a deep sleeper, and a handsy one. Sasha spent most of the night being grabbed and hugged and held by him. Sometime after the sun rose, he fell asleep on his back. She curled against him, her arm across his chest and her leg thrown across his thighs. 

That was how Sasha woke up, her cheek resting on Dean's warm chest. His big hand was stroking her face, tangling in her hair. She was afraid to open her eyes, afraid that when she did, it would all disappear. 

"Dean," she whispered hesitantly.

His hand was still there, fingertips caressing her cheekbones and trailing down to her chin. Then his lips were there, kissing hers. 

"Sasha," he answered, his voice low.

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at Dean's gorgeous face. This was real, he was real, and she was really with him. Yesterday felt like a dream.

"Did we really do all that? Fight and then go on a date and then- ?"

Dean's plush lips curled into a smug smile. "Well, I have you here in bed with me so, yes."

Sasha let her eyes close and snuggled in closer to Dean. She couldn't forget that the weekend was almost over and she would have to leave. 

After that, what? What did yesterday really mean for the two of them? Were they together, or would the fantasy end with the weekend? Sasha pushed the thoughts away, determined to enjoy this moment.

Dean lowered his mouth to hers in a deep kiss. "In case you've forgotten what we did yesterday, I'd be happy to remind you." He cupped her chin in his hand, running his eyes over the curves and angles of her face before bringing her lips up to meet hers again.

She hummed happily against his mouth, enjoying the closeness of the moment. 

"Sasha," said Dean, "You're really something, you know that?"

Sasha shook her head. This kind of conversation could only end in him letting her down gently. She wanted to enjoy Dean as long as she had him. 

Her eyes were drawn, as usual, to the tattoo sleeve that covered his arm and part of his chest. She leaned her head against his shoulder and traced the inked lines on his skin. 

"Dean," she begged. "Tell me about your tattoos."

Dean curved his arm around her waist and placed a kiss on her forehead. "Which tattoos, sweetheart?" 

Sasha ran her fingers over the largest figure on Dean's bicep. It was a mirrored image of a playing card Queen of Hearts. The top woman was an angel, with a beautiful face, wings, and a halo. The flipped image was a demon, with a skull for a face. 

"Tell me about this one," she said.

"My Queen of Hearts? She represents desire. When I'm doing what I love, it's heavenly. When I can't do what I need, I feel like I'm dying inside." 

Sasha nodded. She understood, lying in Dean's arms, an awful lot about desire. 

"What about this one?" Her fingers traced a symbol under his collarbone, the outline of a star in a sunburst. 

"It's a family thing. My brother Sam has one too." Dean's tone was clipped.

Sasha waited, but when it became obvious he wasn't going to say any more about that, she moved on. Her fingers trailed over a line of musical notes that wrapped above Dean's elbow. "And this?

Dean grinned. "That was one of my first songs. I actually wrote it in high school. I reworked it into one of the songs on my second album."

Sasha cupped his jaw in one hand. “I love your tattoos, Dean, I love them because they show me you.” She kissed him, warm and soft. He kissed her back, warm and eager. 

Eventually, Dean spoke. "Baby girl, waking up next to you is delicious, but Daddy still needs some coffee."

Sasha giggled. "I could go for coffee."

Dean ordered coffee and pastries. He pulled on blue jeans to answer the door. Sasha pinned up her hair before picking up his soft blue denim shirt and buttoning it over her breasts.

Dean brought the coffee back and settled down next to Sasha, teasing her about her frothy drink.

"What is it?" he asked. "A pumpkin spice latte? Some lavender creme brulee crap?"

Sasha giggled. "Hey, it's the little things in life. Besides, what are you drinking, something dark and bitter?”

"Americano. That's espresso and water, in case you don't know."

"Of course I know, Dean. Waitress, remember? And my guess was spot on."

Dean threw back his head and laughed, that magical full-body laugh that Sasha found irresistible. 

The two of them were too wrapped up in one another to hear the door to the suite open. 

Suddenly, Sam appeared in the bedroom doorway. "Wanna go-"

The words died on his lips as he registered the cozy scene before him. Dean was shirtless, leaning against the pillows, and Sasha sat next to him, wearing his shirt. Sasha's chin almost brushed Dean's shoulder. He was looking down at her like she was the only woman in the world, his eyes locked on her face. The two of them weren't even touching, but Sam could see the intimacy between them. 

Sam's eyes widened. "Oh, hell, Dean. Sorry." He ducked out quickly. 

Sasha rolled her eyes at the interruption, but it had definitely thrown off the illusion of waking up in bed together, for all the world like a real couple. She was suddenly reminded that her time with Dean was limited. 

She kept waiting for him to say something, anything, so she didn't have to go. She kept hoping that he would tell her this weekend was different. She thought she meant more to him than just a few days of hot sex. Still, he never mentioned it.

With every moment that passed, Sasha felt sadder. She felt that uniquely painful longing of knowing she would miss him even though he wasn't gone yet. She needed a moment to gather her spinning thoughts.

"Hey, Dean," she said, trying to act casual. "I usually like to shower in the morning." 

She knew where the bathroom was but Dean led her there anyway. He turned on the shower, making sure it was warm before he left. 

Sasha stripped and stepped into the expansive gleaming shower, under the generous spray. She was sore and bruised in unexpected places from her weekend with Dean. She let the hot water ease her aching muscles as she soaped up with the body wash she found there.

She was letting the last soap bubbles slip through her fingers when the shower door opened. Dean stood there, looking her up and down as if he had never seen her naked before. He was undressed and his cock twitched to attention as Sasha cupped her breasts in her own hands.

"You going to join me?" she asked. "I'm just rinsing off."

Dean stepped in with her. The shower had plenty of room for both of them but he slid right behind her, pressing close against her generous ass. 

"Let me help you," he said, running his hands over her wet curvy body. 

He grabbed her waist, pulling her back to him in a firm grip. She tilted her hips up against him and he pressed between her legs. Dean bent her over with a hand on her shoulder, but the water hit her face, and Sasha sputtered. Dean reached up to adjust the spray and let Sasha brace herself against the wall.

Dean reached around her with one hand and began to stroke her. She spread her legs farther and he thrust into her. 

Sasha wanted Dean so badly, wanted everything he had to give her. She also wanted this to last, but she couldn't, not with Dean's big hand and thick cock working her over, inside and out. She let her head drop forward against the cool shower wall as she began to moan. 

Dean picked up his pace and her moans grew loud and wild, echoing off the shower walls. She pressed her ass hard back against Dean as she came. Her knees shook and he held her up, kept thrusting into her harder and faster. Dean couldn't resist Sasha, not when she was so blatantly needy for him. He bent forward, sinking his teeth into the soft skin of her shoulder. 

Sasha yelped, and shuddered, and was blindsided by another orgasm. Dean curled around her, bracing himself on his forearms against the shower as he came.

The hot water cascaded down around them while they caught their breath. After a few moments, Dean turned Sasha in his arms to face him. He pulled her back so they were both standing under the shower. The water streamed over their bodies, wrapping them in its warm embrace.

"What a gift you are," Dean murmured. "Sasha, my beauty, my sweetheart." 

Sasha sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. With the water all around her, she could pretend her cheeks weren't wet from tears. 

Dean lifted her chin and kissed her deeply.

Only one word crossed her lips, the only thought in her mind: “Dean.” 

... Were they together, or would the fantasy end with the weekend?   Chapter 10 ... SPN First Last and Always: @dawnie1988 @divadinag @flamencodiva @fookinghelljensensthighs @idreamofplaid @maddiepants @onethirstyunicorn   @the-chocolate-moose  @there-must-be-a-lock @tloveswriting Dean Curious: @adoptdontshoppets @deangirl7695 @deans-baby-momma  @mrsjenniferwinchester @supersassyprobablysad @wayward-gypsy