Note: First is the picspam, the second is the fic.
Title: j'ai tant pleuré (I Cried So)
Summary: They weren’t even hunting together. He was actually the l a s t person she wanted to see, and she was the first one he’d seen in weeks, sans corpses and demons.
Notes: Set in the AU after Dean is murdered in 'Mystery Spot'.
The floorboards shook, dust flying up into the air as two bodies crashed to the floor, each of them painted in bruises and cuts, blood still tacky against their skin. Thin fingers fumbling with the buckle of her partners pants, gasping at the feel of his teeth digging into the flesh at her neck, a warning for the next time she turns her back on a vampire.
They weren’t even hunting together. He was actually the l a s t person she wanted to see, and she was the first one he’d seen in weeks, sans corpses and demons.
They had both been working on the finding the nest. She’d been their three days before he showed up in the slick black car that brought a heavy feeling to her chest. She didn’t know when he saw her, but latter that day he’d cornered her in her motel room after coming back from the bar, hissing that she wasn’t cut out for shit like this.
His eyes flickered to her mouth before he glared one last time and backed out of her room, leaving her with heavy feelings and flashbacks of sandpipers.
She may not have been totally sane when she decided to fuck it and drive off into the sunset (literally), hell bent on finding the nest and proving Sam wrong.
Jo groaned into Sam’s mouth, her boots finding purchase against the wood floor and allowing her to lift her hips up easily and ground them against his, her hands caught between their hips. He mumbled something around her tongue, something about protection (which was stupid, because she had that charm) and fuck, Jo before his hands slipped down the back of her pants and gripped her ass. Her head cracked against the wood, foggy and aching and itching with lust. He pressed his forehead between her breasts and finished undoing his pants, pulling hers down her thighs.
She had managed to kill three vamps before the others awoke and she was in a hail of blood and spit, screams filling her head and making her throat sore. A hand gripped her elbow, spinning her around. She recognized Sam just in time to stop herself from taking off his head, but not before drawing blood at the crook of his neck. He blinked at her, breathing heavily, looking like he was going to say something else, but all that can out was -
He entered her with a gasp, inaudible as she cried out, nails digging into his overly scarred back. She knew he’d been hunting like a death wish ever since Dean was murdered, but the feel of raised tissue under her palms sealed just how much was too much. He moved inside her without waiting for her to adjust to his size (she was so small under his hands), breathing hard against her neck, smelling his own blood on her skin. She was panting, finally enjoying the feel of him instead of just feeling the amount of him (he was huge inside of her, not quite used to fucking g i a n t s), mumbling his name as he filled her mouth with his tongue, mirroring the movements of his cock.
Her fingers twined through his hair tightly and she held on as she came with a scream.
The fucking nest had twelve newborns padlocked in the basement in addition to the eight living in the rooms above. She almost had her head torn off as she faced off with Sam, her back to the stairs, not noticing the fang lunge at her. Sam beheaded it in midair and she grunted her thanks, pulling her gun out of the back of her pants to slow the charge of a girl about 14 years old, distracting the others with the noise and decapitating two more in the process.
“Dean’s dead,” shouted Sam over the noise (screams, crying and the smell of blood, blood, b l o o d) and she almost fell over that was so unexpected. She always figured she’d be better at comforting people, but all that came out was -
“He was shot over his wallet, in a parking lot.”
Again, all that she could manage was - “Shit.”
“I guess it was better than Hell Hounds.” And she was pretty sure she wasn’t supposed to hear that.
She still had momentum left after the last body hit the floor, the head fallowing it seconds after, spraying her with red. Her once blonde hair hung in front of her face, beads of blood falling from the ends of her curls, making it rain.
“Your life kind of sucks, Sam,” said Jo matter-of-factly, shaking her hair out of her face, whipping blood around her in a halo, much like a dog after a swim. She glanced at him across the room, running his sleeve over his face in attempt to get all the blood off. He had tensed up at her words, but suddenly he was shaking and laughing so hard it was bordering hysterical.
Jo rolled her eyes, turning to head back up the stairs and the lighter fluid she kept in her car. She found the Impala parked next to her and two cases of lighter fluid placed directly in front of the bumper. She rolled her eyes again, grabbed her own and managed to hoist Sam’s under her arms.
She came twice before he finally spilled himself inside her, shouting against her shoulder something that sounded like agony and made her heart ache. But she was too high to care, sweat and blood cooling against her too hot skin, hair plastered against her forehead.
“Sorry,” she managed to breath out, and they weren’t the words she was thinking. “I’m sorry.”
He had the bodies and their parts piled in the center of the basement, his boot toeing a head closer to the pile before he waved her closer, taking two of the cases from her hands and setting them on the ground at his feet. They worked in silence, dousing the bodies in kerosene, but his shoulders were less tense, so maybe her sucker punch on his life really had helped.
He let her stick the first match and toss it down the stairs, watching it catch fire and burn away the dead. The smell of blood, sex and kerosene still hung heavy in the air, breathing heavily once they stepped outside into the cold night. Their lungs burning with smoke and cold.
Jo leant against the side of the Impala, her arms folded across her chest, watching the flames lick the window panes before smashing through. All their hard work going up in smoke and Jo couldn’t help but feel content at the sight.
Sam wasn’t watching though. He was packing up his trunk, his eyes flickering back to her when he thought she wouldn’t notice.
“Where you headed next?” asked Jo absently, still watching the fire show. Sam slammed the trunk closed and moved to stand beside her, his boots upsetting the gravel under his feet.
“What’s there?” and his cocky grin warmed her skin.
“The east coast.” she snorted and elbowed him lightly in the side. He stared at the side of her face for a moment before lifting his eyes to the fire behind her for the first time. “I’m following a trickster.”
“I guess I’ll see you around then?”
Jo nodded, pushing herself off the car as she did, adjusting her gun inside the waistband of her jeans. She managed to pull her keys out of her pocket and shuffle the few feet toward her car before she closed her eyes and gritted her teeth.
“Or, you know, if you wanted company.” she didn’t turn around to see his reaction, not knowing whether is would be good or bad. She could see his reflection in the window of her car, staring at her blankly.
“It’s your funeral.”
Sam/Jo Vid Rec
made by AsreeShadowsKeeper
Garbage, Push It
and hey! things I forgot: