Feb. 23rd, 2012

weary_head: Sex, Love (Want.)
"I don't even get this dress," Dean admits, though in his defense, it's been many long moments since he's seen it, the lights of the Compound long since left behind for the quiet and dark near the barn.

He rubs his cheek alongside Faye's own, breathing deep and doing his best to get himself under control. It's no easy task, with Faye pressed sure and tight between him and the wooden walls, all long, dark hair and breathless heat. "It's all lace, I can practically see all your skin." Framing her hips with his fingers, Dean holds her close. "It's all I can think about, god, Faye."

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Dean Winchester

November 2020

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