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Ladies First

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Wynonna had Dean up against the staircase in the homestead. Both of their leather jackets were long forgotten by the door and Dean had his hands everywhere. She felt his callouses drag against her waist, against her breasts, as he pushed up up until her shirt and her bra were tossed somewhere she would surely care about later, after more sins had been committed.

The funny part was she couldn’t remember the exact moment when she decided she wanted to fuck Dean Winchester. It wasn’t that she was too drunk to remember the evening, because boy did she remember the evening. There had been at least one bottle of whiskey, three games of pool, and a bunch of lingering gazes to celebrate their recent victory. No civilian casualties and a couple of dead revenants were definitely good reasons to celebrate. Maybe Wynonna had made up her mind as soon as Dean walked into Shorty’s earlier that night, his bright green eyes and easy smile a comfort she didn't know she'd been looking for.

Dean rolled into town barely a week ago, and he’d used all her lines, and normally she could immediately size a guy up. But Dean was too different. Too familiar.

“Is that a gun, or are you just happy to see me?”

“Have we met before?”

“This is my ride. Pretty sweet, right?”

“We’re going to roast these motherfuckers.”

I mean, really. Who did this guy think he is? She’d totally assumed he was just another idiot in a leather jacket at first. And then. Then she saw him shoot a revenant. Sure, he couldn’t kill the thing, but that didn’t detract from the fact that Dean was damn skilled with a gun. There were few people who impressed Wynonna with weapons. In fact, the number of people who could impress Wynonna with weapons could be counted on one hand.

Wynonna brought Dean’s hand to her face so she could kiss Dean’s palm, and laughed at herself.

She pushed all his fingers down so they folded down against his palm, except two.

She touched his pointer finger and his middle finger and counted aloud. “One… two.”

“Should I ask?” Dean looked amused.

“Nah. Ask me later. Something about guns.” Wynonna let Dean’s hand drop back down so he could touch her. She kissed his already swollen lips, teasing the edge of his mouth with her tongue. She bit at his lower lip, and he groaned.

“Hey, you wanna-” Dean motioned up the stairs. His grin had turned to something downright predatory.

“Ya. Ya. Let’s go.” Wynonna pushed herself of his broad chest, panting.

“Ladies first.” Dean quirked his lips in a barely-there smirk. He was teasing her, but she took the bait anyway.

“Oh fuck you. You first, ass.” Wynonna grabbed at his arm to pull him upstairs, but she missed. She blamed the whiskey.

“Hey, you are way more dressed than me,” Wynonna pointed out.

Dean pulled his olive green t-shirt slowly over his head, grinning at her the whole time. Wynonna huffed and crossed her arms, but she was sure her bluff was pretty obvious. She was never a good liar when she was drunk. Her eyes roved over his broad chest and hard nipples, but then she doubled back to stare at his ink. It nearly took up his entire left peck. The dark and precise geometric lines stood out starkly against his pale skin. Wynonna’s mouth started to water.

“Some tattoo. What’s the story?” She nodded at his chest, rubbing her fingers over it.

“That can wait,” Dean huffed, all mysterious. Wynonna figured the guy should be allowed to keep his secrets. For now.

She kissed his tattoo, and felt Dean shiver. Emboldened by his reaction, she bit at his skin. He moaned, and Wynonna smiled against his skin.

“It looks good.”

“Thanks,” Dean mumbled, clearly enjoying the way Wynonna was dragging her teeth against his skin. She bit along his tattoo, nearly mesmerized by its unique shape.

Dean suddenly scooped her up, clearly done with the teasing. His hands gripped her ass and she wrapped her legs around his hips so she wouldn’t fall. He started up the stairs, and Peacemaker kept thumping against his leg.

“What’s with men and lifting me up?” Wynonna said, cognizant that if she wiggled, they might both topple down the stairs.

“What’s with you and talking so much?”

“Are you referring to right now, or earlier tonight? Because I can assure you, you ain’t seen nothin’ -”

Dean kissed her just to shut her up, but damn did Dean know how to kiss. Wynonna hopped down from his arms clumsily, unzipping her own jeans as he deepened the kiss. Her bare chest rubbed against him, and occasionally one of her nipples would catch and drag on his warm skin. She hissed, but enjoyed the surprise. She kept pushing against him until his back was against her doorway.

Her eyes were closed, but she could feel him reach down to unzip his own jeans. His tongue swept inside her mouth, and Wynonna breathed him in. His tongue was wet and thick inside her mouth, and she reveled in the sensation of his tongue against hers. But this was not what she had come upstairs for.

“Let me help you there, cowboy,” Wynonna teased as she slid Dean’s jeans down his hips.

“So it’s like that?” Dean’s voice was gruff and heavy. Damn, he had it bad for her.

Dean wrapped his hands around her hips and spun her around. He pulled her jeans down just far enough for her ass to stick out. She had worn a pink thong that day, and she didn’t miss the sound of Dean sucking in his breath as he stared for a moment. Definitely a good decision on her part.

She pushed back against him, and felt his hard cock against the crack of her ass. He didn’t make a sound, but Wynonna would of bet a million bucks his face was totally blissed out right now. Men. So predictable. Wynonna bent over more to exaggerate the movement. Dean slapped her ass and Wynonna giggled, but then Dean’s hand was in between her legs.

He gently rubbed her pussy lips with barely-there pressure. He pushed his pointer finger in so that it pushed her pussy lips apart just enough for his finger to fit in-between, and on each upward push, he’d hit her clit. It was almost too much sensation at once.

Wynonna moaned, but she played it up just to tease him. It was a long, drawn out “ahhh” that made Dean push aside her thong and push a finger into her pussy. He slowly fucked into her while his other hand reached around her body to rub her clit, under jeans but over her panties.

“Just one?” No sooner had Wynonna said it than Dean pushed two in. She was wet enough, she knew that much. Her pussy clenched around his fingers, and she breathed in time with his slow thrusts. It was damn near relaxing, is what it was. She felt like she was the epitome of zen right then.

“You like that.” Dean said it like a statement, not like a question. She straightened up, and leaned against him. He breathed in her ear, and she reached back to squeeze his cock. It was hard and leaking, and she rubbed her thumb over the head. Dean shivered, but he kept up the rhythm with his fingers.

“Turn around,” he ordered her.

He pulled her jeans down, and she pulled out her left leg. The jeans were so tight they dragged on her right leg, and they gave up trying to get them all the way off. She went to unbuckle the belt that held up Peacemaker, but Dean put his hand briefly on the gun.

“Leave it.”

“Kinky,” Wynonna almost laughed. She didn’t argue, though. Her gun holster was pretty legit.

Dean pushed her panties aside to rub the tip of his leaking cock against her pussy lips. He made eye contact with her, and his gaze was intense. She watched him roll on a condom that he pulled from his pocket before he kicked his jeans and boxers aside. He hitched his arm under her left leg to pull it up off the ground. Her pussy felt exposed. They were still outside her room, but her whole body was tingling with anticipation.

“Fuck.” Dean breathed as she entered her. Wynonna shivered from the sensation when her lips clenched around his cock.

She looked up to watch his face. Beads of sweat rolled down his brow. His freckles stood out starkly against the rest of his flushed pink skin, and his nose kept bumping hers as he pushed into her.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Dean cussed softly and reverently like he was praying, and maybe this was his religion. Wynonna couldn’t penalize him for it, because she was having a fucking holy moment right now too.

“I want you on your knees,” Dean commanded.

“But what about me?” She purred as Dean paused to catch his breath.

“Sweetheart, you can ask for whatever you want in about five minutes.” Dean grunted as he pulled out of her, and put her leg down gently. Wynonna bemoaned how empty she felt with Dean’s cock gone, but she wasn’t going to miss the chance to get in a good dig.

“Oh, that’s all?” She smirked and batted her eyelashes, then pulled her right leg out of her jeans. She kicked them aside, and climbed on top of her mattress, on her hands and knees. Dean was immediately behind her, his hands gripping her hips. He stayed standing, and pulled her ass to him. She wasn’t going to admit it, but she thought it was sexy that he was so strong. Dean pushed his cock into her wet cunt slowly, and Wynonna pushed back against him to encourage him.

“Holy shit.” Dean started to speed up, and she knew he was about to cum because of the way his fingernails dug into her hips. He was gulping air like he was about to drown.

But she didn’t want him to be done just yet.

Wynonna pushed forward, letting Dean’s cock fall out of her. Dean lost his rhythm and groaned, annoyed.

“Fuck. Wynonna, I was about to cum,” Dean whined. Wynonna turned around and sat up, grinning.

“Ladies first. Massage my pussy,” Wynonna said as she propped herself up on her elbows and spread her legs.

“Is this payback for bossin’ you around?” Dean kicked off his pants and climbed onto the bed. He sat back on his haunches, appraising her.

“Sweetheart, I have no idea what you mean.” Wynonna fluttered her eyelashes, teasing. Of course this was payback for his bossiness earlier. Besides, she wanted to see him squirm a little more. He was so pretty when he squirmed.

Dean rolled his eyes, but smirked and gestured for Wynonna to come closer to him. She scooted to the edge of the bed, and Dean went to work.

She watched as he pressed his pointer finger and middle finger together at the top of her clit. He started to massage her in quick, small circles. He rubbed around the outside of her cunt with the fingers of his left hand and Wynonna smiled appreciatively. Dean’s capable hands were touching her, mapping her, and breaking her apart all at once.

Time was lost to Wynonna as Dean sped up the circular motion on her clit. He pushed two fingers from his left hand into her cunt, fucking into her slow and steady. Wynonna tried to stay focused on his hands, on his face, on his tattoo, but she felt her body coiling up, ready to fall over the edge. She let her eyes slip closed.

“Oh fuck, Dean. Don’t stop,” Wynonna panted.

“I’m not you, sweetheart.” Dean was teasing her, but Wynonna could barely hear him. Her orgasm ran her over like a freight train, and she felt her body vibrate like train tracks after a train passes.

Slowly, Wynonna came down from her high. She could hear Dean whispering in awe. “You look so good like that, Wynonna.”

Her body felt loose and satisfied, and she wasn’t drunk anymore. She pulled peacemaker from its holster, and put it on the nightstand. She lay all the way down and reached for Dean. “Come up here,” Wynonna beckoned. Her voice sounded rough, even to her.

Dean climbed onto the bed and looked down on her, condom still on from earlier. Wynonna helped guide his cock into her cunt. He easily pushed inside, and Wynonna clenched around him. New pleasure washed over her, and as Dean fucked her, Wynonna nearly felt as good as she had when Dean had fingered her.

“Ask for permission,” Wynonna said, attempting to keep her voice steady. She had been watching his face, and he had started to flutter his eyes closed.

“What?” Dean questioned as he opened his eyes to stare at her. He started to thrust harder, and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. His hands gripped her hips tightly, holding her in place.

Wynonna quirked an eyebrow. She knew that he heard her. She watched realization dawn on his face and he opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it. That a boy.

“Can I - fuck. Can I fucking cum, Wynonna Earp?” Dean’s voice didn’t shake and Wynonna was yet again impressed with him. But he was fucking into her hard and fast, his forehead was scrunched up in pleasure, and sweat was dripping from his forehead. Tell-tale signs that he was ready, even though his voice hadn’t given him away.

Wynonna let her gaze wonder over his eyelashes, his stubble, his freckled shoulders, before she landed on his tattoo. Dean made a pretty picture.

“Okay, Dean. Cum for me,” Wynonna whispered.

Dean did as a commanded and Wynonna stared at him, hoping to memorize his face. He was flushed and slightly pink, and his lips were parted and looked soft and inviting. His eyelashes fluttered as he started to smile the sort of blissed out smile that is reserved only for moments like this.

He pulled out and collapsed on the bed next to her, his eyes closed. His fingers skating absentmindedly across her arms, her ribs, her boobs, as he lay next to her. His skin felt warm against hers, and Wynonna sighed, content.

“Not bad, Winchester.” She poked him in the ribs.

“Not bad yourself, Earp.” Dean’s fingers continued their lazy stroll across her body, and Wynonna watched his face as he cracked open one eye to look over at her.

“You still going to let me ride your bike later?” Dean asked. Wynonna huffed a laugh.

“Only if I can drive the Impala,” Wynonna countered.

Dean opened both eyes and his mouth fell open. He looked at her slightly aghast, like she had grown a second head. But after a moment, he smiled.

“I’ll consider it.”

That’s all Wynonna could ask for.