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apocalypsosI sat down at the computer and all I could think about was Sam fucking girls. Gee, I wonder why.
Title: We Might Be Laughing A Bit Too Loud
Author: Troll Princess
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: "Heart"
Pairing: Sam/Jess
***
We Might Be Laughing A Bit Too Loud
***
When Jess starts going out with boys she always ends up with the bad boys.
She kisses Troy Bell under the bleachers in ninth grade and he tastes like pot and Cheetos. She lets Donny Camden stick his hand under her shirt when her parents leave for a wine-tasting weekend in spite of the oil and grime under his nails from auto shop. Hell, because of it.
In eleventh grade she falls head over heels for Ricky Lopez. He's got dark wavy hair and a wicked smile, and his jacket tugs across his shoulders like they're fighting to break free from the leather.
She gets detention one week for being found making out with him in the janitor's closet.
Her best friend Tommy shakes his head while they study in the library afterwards.
“You couldn't have waited until after school?” he says.
She just smiles and says, “It's Ricky Lopez.”
Tommy doesn't understand, of course, but he is kind of a geek.
*
Two months go by and Jess is bored, really amazingly bored.
Ricky is supposed to be wild and bad. The reason he's there is to be her first, to teach her a dozen different positions he learned from practicing on the slutty girls and go down on her just to see how many times he can make her come. He's meant to let her stick her hand down his pants in the auditorium balcony during school assemblies and return the favor when she's done.
After two months he's still stroking his hands along her sides when they're alone, nuzzling her neck and making plans so that her first time is special.
He whispers, “You'll look beautiful by candlelight,” into the soft curve of her neck.
She considers herself lucky he can't see her roll her eyes.
*
She breaks up with Ricky before they get too far. Who knew he'd secretly be some romantic dork? Honestly.
After school Tommy pulls her into the janitor's closet and she laughs.
“What are you doing?” she says.
“Did you really break up with Ricky?”
She's trying not to laugh but what makes it easy to stop is the very serious look in Tommy's eyes. Tommy's her best friend. He helps her with math, she helps him with lit. In Mr. Steele's history classes he waits for the teacher to turn around and makes faces while mouthing along to Mr. Steele's barked words to try and make her laugh.
“Yes,” she says. “Why?”
He shrugs. “No reason,” he says, and then he leans forward and kisses her.
Kisses her. Jeez, that doesn't even sum it up. His tongue in her mouth short-circuits every part of her, fries her central nervous system, and damn, they must be what jellyfish feel like.
Her knees don't work anymore, and she nearly slides to the floor before he pushes her against the wall.
“Thank you,” he finally says as he pulls back for air.
She tugs at his shirt – up, down, off, whatever -- and blurts out, “What for?”
He slips to his knees, his hands sliding up her legs.
“For wearing a skirt today,” he says, and pushes it aside, kissing her hipbone before moving onward.
*
They don't get detention for what they do in the janitor's closet that day, but boy, do they deserve it.
*
After graduation, before she packs up all of her stuff and heads off to Palo Alto, she says goodbye to Tommy by fucking him under the stage.
The two of them laugh, shush and moan the entire time. Her lips on his cock and balls, his tongue in her ass. She still hates the taste of flavored lube, he still rolls his eyes at the fact that sucking on her nipples tickles her to the point of hysterical laughter.
“Why do I put up with you?” he says.
“Hell if I know,” she says with a smirk, and lets him come in her ass.
*
When she arrives in Palo Alto she gets an email from Tommy daring her to date another bad boy.
They were realistic, always understanding what the future would bring. Now she emails him at MIT about how much she hated Titanic and he emails her back about his weird redneck roommate and sometimes they have text message sex during classes just for the hell of it.
“Just try it,” he says. “They can't all be lousy fucks, right?”
She nearly chokes on the Mountain Dew she's drinking as she reads her email. Once they'd started having sex together Tommy's boy-next-door act had crashed and burned.
Mostly into her panties, though, so not like she had complained or anything.
*
The experiment starts and ends with Dane.
Dane is the Stanford version of a bad boy, too much money and not enough comeuppance. His father owns a entire state, although Jess never bothers to remember which one. Everybody he knows will tell you he's funny but she just tries to ignore how many of them she's heard on HBO specials.
He pledges a fraternity, or tries to when he's sober. He has about as much luck with that as he does lasting more than a minute in the sack.
“I'm sorry,” he says the third time in a week he comes before she does.
She's pretty sure he's apologizing for puking on her shoes.
*
She names her vibrator Ben Affleck.
The day she breaks up with Dane she lets Ben Affleck get her off twice before chem class and stops on the way home to pick another vibrator she names Matt Damon, just 'cause.
Her roommate thinks she's deranged.
Jess just thinks she's jealous because she named hers Leonardo DiCaprio.
*
During finals she hides out behind one specific bookshelf in the library. It's dark and sturdy and nobody ever comes back this far.
Except the one day somebody does.
The books on the shelf are ... hell, Jess has never even looked in them. They're history books, old ones at that, and if she cracked them open she bets she could find a different version of the Soviet Union in each one. She's been sure for days that this is where out-of-date textbooks go to die.
The guy appears at the end of the aisle, knapsack slung over his shoulder, and nearly trips over her.
“Oh, sorry,” he says. “I didn't see you down there.”
She doesn't doubt it. Guy's the size of a fucking redwood. He probably needs binoculars to see anybody shorter than he is.
“Not a problem,” she says. “Looking for a place to study?”
He nods, then points at the empty spot next to where she's curled up on the floor, her back against the wall. “That seat taken?”
“If you can fit into it,” she says, and pats the floor.
*
Sam Winchester is polite.
He opens doors and pulls out chairs and says, “Yes, please,” and, “No, sir.” He's kind of shy sometimes and buys her coffees and he's so damn sweet that her teeth practically chatter when he's around.
She really needs to work on that.
*
On the last day of finals right before her pop culture final and his art history exam, she sighs and shoves her textbook onto the empty shelf next to her.
“I need a breather,” she says, and reaches over to tug at his belt.
He flinches and the hand holding his notes drops to his side, but he doesn't stop her. “What are you doing?”
She grins wickedly, and says, “Helping us both relax,” before bending over him.
*
Holy fuck, she thinks.
Sam tugs at her hair when she's blowing him less like he's pulling her away and more like he knows she'll get off on it. He bites and scratches, licks at the wounds and nips at her skin all over again. He fucks her up against walls, in closets and in airplane bathrooms, and every time she walks away so sore she lies about an old cheerleading injury to anyone who asks.
The girl at the sex shop knows them by name, puts aside new costumes in their size and calls Sam once to ask him what kind of strap-on he'd want Jess to have ready for his birthday.
Their neighbors in the dorm who hate the screaming turn into their neighbors in the apartment building who find used condoms around the complex and just assume they're theirs.
I'm going to marry him, she thinks one day, and is so giddy at the thought she doesn't even get mad when it takes her a whole hour of searching the apartment to find the ball gag.
Title: We Might Be Laughing A Bit Too Loud
Author: Troll Princess
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: "Heart"
Pairing: Sam/Jess
We Might Be Laughing A Bit Too Loud
***
When Jess starts going out with boys she always ends up with the bad boys.
She kisses Troy Bell under the bleachers in ninth grade and he tastes like pot and Cheetos. She lets Donny Camden stick his hand under her shirt when her parents leave for a wine-tasting weekend in spite of the oil and grime under his nails from auto shop. Hell, because of it.
In eleventh grade she falls head over heels for Ricky Lopez. He's got dark wavy hair and a wicked smile, and his jacket tugs across his shoulders like they're fighting to break free from the leather.
She gets detention one week for being found making out with him in the janitor's closet.
Her best friend Tommy shakes his head while they study in the library afterwards.
“You couldn't have waited until after school?” he says.
She just smiles and says, “It's Ricky Lopez.”
Tommy doesn't understand, of course, but he is kind of a geek.
Two months go by and Jess is bored, really amazingly bored.
Ricky is supposed to be wild and bad. The reason he's there is to be her first, to teach her a dozen different positions he learned from practicing on the slutty girls and go down on her just to see how many times he can make her come. He's meant to let her stick her hand down his pants in the auditorium balcony during school assemblies and return the favor when she's done.
After two months he's still stroking his hands along her sides when they're alone, nuzzling her neck and making plans so that her first time is special.
He whispers, “You'll look beautiful by candlelight,” into the soft curve of her neck.
She considers herself lucky he can't see her roll her eyes.
She breaks up with Ricky before they get too far. Who knew he'd secretly be some romantic dork? Honestly.
After school Tommy pulls her into the janitor's closet and she laughs.
“What are you doing?” she says.
“Did you really break up with Ricky?”
She's trying not to laugh but what makes it easy to stop is the very serious look in Tommy's eyes. Tommy's her best friend. He helps her with math, she helps him with lit. In Mr. Steele's history classes he waits for the teacher to turn around and makes faces while mouthing along to Mr. Steele's barked words to try and make her laugh.
“Yes,” she says. “Why?”
He shrugs. “No reason,” he says, and then he leans forward and kisses her.
Kisses her. Jeez, that doesn't even sum it up. His tongue in her mouth short-circuits every part of her, fries her central nervous system, and damn, they must be what jellyfish feel like.
Her knees don't work anymore, and she nearly slides to the floor before he pushes her against the wall.
“Thank you,” he finally says as he pulls back for air.
She tugs at his shirt – up, down, off, whatever -- and blurts out, “What for?”
He slips to his knees, his hands sliding up her legs.
“For wearing a skirt today,” he says, and pushes it aside, kissing her hipbone before moving onward.
They don't get detention for what they do in the janitor's closet that day, but boy, do they deserve it.
After graduation, before she packs up all of her stuff and heads off to Palo Alto, she says goodbye to Tommy by fucking him under the stage.
The two of them laugh, shush and moan the entire time. Her lips on his cock and balls, his tongue in her ass. She still hates the taste of flavored lube, he still rolls his eyes at the fact that sucking on her nipples tickles her to the point of hysterical laughter.
“Why do I put up with you?” he says.
“Hell if I know,” she says with a smirk, and lets him come in her ass.
When she arrives in Palo Alto she gets an email from Tommy daring her to date another bad boy.
They were realistic, always understanding what the future would bring. Now she emails him at MIT about how much she hated Titanic and he emails her back about his weird redneck roommate and sometimes they have text message sex during classes just for the hell of it.
“Just try it,” he says. “They can't all be lousy fucks, right?”
She nearly chokes on the Mountain Dew she's drinking as she reads her email. Once they'd started having sex together Tommy's boy-next-door act had crashed and burned.
Mostly into her panties, though, so not like she had complained or anything.
The experiment starts and ends with Dane.
Dane is the Stanford version of a bad boy, too much money and not enough comeuppance. His father owns a entire state, although Jess never bothers to remember which one. Everybody he knows will tell you he's funny but she just tries to ignore how many of them she's heard on HBO specials.
He pledges a fraternity, or tries to when he's sober. He has about as much luck with that as he does lasting more than a minute in the sack.
“I'm sorry,” he says the third time in a week he comes before she does.
She's pretty sure he's apologizing for puking on her shoes.
She names her vibrator Ben Affleck.
The day she breaks up with Dane she lets Ben Affleck get her off twice before chem class and stops on the way home to pick another vibrator she names Matt Damon, just 'cause.
Her roommate thinks she's deranged.
Jess just thinks she's jealous because she named hers Leonardo DiCaprio.
During finals she hides out behind one specific bookshelf in the library. It's dark and sturdy and nobody ever comes back this far.
Except the one day somebody does.
The books on the shelf are ... hell, Jess has never even looked in them. They're history books, old ones at that, and if she cracked them open she bets she could find a different version of the Soviet Union in each one. She's been sure for days that this is where out-of-date textbooks go to die.
The guy appears at the end of the aisle, knapsack slung over his shoulder, and nearly trips over her.
“Oh, sorry,” he says. “I didn't see you down there.”
She doesn't doubt it. Guy's the size of a fucking redwood. He probably needs binoculars to see anybody shorter than he is.
“Not a problem,” she says. “Looking for a place to study?”
He nods, then points at the empty spot next to where she's curled up on the floor, her back against the wall. “That seat taken?”
“If you can fit into it,” she says, and pats the floor.
Sam Winchester is polite.
He opens doors and pulls out chairs and says, “Yes, please,” and, “No, sir.” He's kind of shy sometimes and buys her coffees and he's so damn sweet that her teeth practically chatter when he's around.
She really needs to work on that.
On the last day of finals right before her pop culture final and his art history exam, she sighs and shoves her textbook onto the empty shelf next to her.
“I need a breather,” she says, and reaches over to tug at his belt.
He flinches and the hand holding his notes drops to his side, but he doesn't stop her. “What are you doing?”
She grins wickedly, and says, “Helping us both relax,” before bending over him.
Holy fuck, she thinks.
Sam tugs at her hair when she's blowing him less like he's pulling her away and more like he knows she'll get off on it. He bites and scratches, licks at the wounds and nips at her skin all over again. He fucks her up against walls, in closets and in airplane bathrooms, and every time she walks away so sore she lies about an old cheerleading injury to anyone who asks.
The girl at the sex shop knows them by name, puts aside new costumes in their size and calls Sam once to ask him what kind of strap-on he'd want Jess to have ready for his birthday.
Their neighbors in the dorm who hate the screaming turn into their neighbors in the apartment building who find used condoms around the complex and just assume they're theirs.
I'm going to marry him, she thinks one day, and is so giddy at the thought she doesn't even get mad when it takes her a whole hour of searching the apartment to find the ball gag.
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no subject
Date: 2007-03-23 09:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-23 09:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-23 09:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-23 09:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-23 09:41 pm (UTC)hardcore
seriously
this was fantabulous
*gives you cake*
no subject
Date: 2007-03-23 10:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-23 10:12 pm (UTC)i loved this. *smooches jess* she is hot, bebbah. and i love how the sex shop guy knows them. hee!
thank you for this! <3
no subject
Date: 2007-03-23 10:22 pm (UTC)*goes to happy place*
This was fun reading. I do so like Jess a little slutty because she is slutty in fun, good and still healthy ways.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-24 12:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-24 01:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-24 01:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-24 04:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-24 05:10 am (UTC)But still, my favorite part was this:
and he emails her back about his weird redneck roommate
yeah. love.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-24 07:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-24 07:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-26 04:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-24 08:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-24 09:37 am (UTC)I'm going to marry him, she thinks one day, and is so giddy at the thought she doesn't even get mad when it takes her a whole hour of searching the apartment to find the ball gag.
I have an overwhelming desire to print this out and put it in a sparkly binder with jess winchester <3's sam's cock written all over over the cover in pink glitter.
Here via friendsfriends in case you were wondering about the random.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-24 11:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-24 02:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-24 05:44 pm (UTC)XD!!
\o/
no subject
Date: 2007-03-24 09:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-24 11:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-25 01:53 am (UTC)Man, do I love this Jess. Thank you, so much.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-25 09:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-30 02:37 am (UTC)Recc'ed over at
no subject
Date: 2007-04-19 04:13 am (UTC)Jenna
no subject
Date: 2007-04-19 06:44 am (UTC)I think I want to marry the last paragraph.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-09 10:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-22 09:24 am (UTC)...i have no words.
\o/
pump up the volume
Date: 2009-02-02 06:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-01 02:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-23 07:22 pm (UTC)Oh, and thanks for making me rewatch "Heart". Again.