Mama, Can't You Wait? (NC-17)
Title: Mama, Can't You Wait?
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Ash/Jo
Word Count: 636
Warnings: Mild sex. Drug use.
Disclaimer: Ha. No. Not mine.
Summary: “Solves all of life’s problems,” he’d said.
Notes: This hit me out of nowhere while I was sleeping in class yesterday. Title taken from "Lit Up" by Buckcherry.
----------
Chronic giggling cuts through the boiling Nebraska countryside. She sits closer to Ash than her mama would approve of; shoulder-to-shoulder, arms brushing and thin layers of sweat mingling under the pounding rays of the midday sun.
Jo takes the joint when he passes it to her. Smoke filters out his nostrils as she takes a drag, holding it in and savoring the buzz. The smoke rising in waves from the tip of the joint matches the broiling heat radiating around them on the roof of the Roadhouse.
She releases the smoke in the same fashion as Ash. The memory of the first time he talked her into this still lingers at the back of her mind. It was two years ago; she was sixteen and the high school drama over the freak with a knife collection had her bummed and on the verge of utilizing pliers to relocate some balls after he made a smartass remark about her needing to get laid.
“Solves all of life’s problems,” he’d said.
How he had actually coerced her into joining him in his room is still a little hazy. The part that sticks out more isn’t the smoking; it’s the sex. He was her first, somehow having convinced her to give him a shot. In her state of lethargy, she had agreed. Looking back now, she’s pretty sure he only did it to give her a reason to attack other appendages when she’s pissed at him.
Whether it’s true or not, it sure as hell worked.
No regrets.
She leans back, arms behind, palms flat against the heated roof. She laughs at nothing in particular and squints up at the clear sky. Ash leans over and whispers something in her ear that makes her blush furiously.
She shifts so that her back is resting against his chest. He wraps an arm around her waist and she leans her head back into his chest, just under his chin. The smell of marijuana emanates from him. Breathing in deep and exhaling slowly, it almost gets her higher than a long, hard drag.
Her palm runs over the bulge in his jeans, kneading against the ragged denim, making him grunt as he grows harder. Unzipping his jeans, she finishes him off; yet another favor shared between friends. By now she knows exactly what works; how the scrape of teeth makes him groan, how it feels when his seed slides down her throat.
“Damn, girl,” he says, his hand now under her shirt and drifting over her breasts.
She grins lazily, moving back up to her previous position, sitting right next to him and lounging back against his chest. She closes her eyes and lets his hands take over, running down her sides, under her bra, drawing her nipples painfully hard.
She didn’t dub him Dr. Badass for nothing.
The fastenings on her jeans are loosened and he dives under the waistband of her panties. Hips rock with his motion, giving him complete control. He works his magic, finding a new, thrilling way to send her crashing down every time. He hits just the right angle and she comes violently around his fingers, moaning so loud that it echoes back.
She stays limp in his arms, trying desperately to catch her breath. She doesn’t know whether it’s the pot or just the exhilerating sexual workout, but’s she’s suddenly starved.
“Joanna Beth!”
She startles at her mother’s voice from inside the Roadhouse. Fixing her jeans and making a mental note to stop by her room and get a change of panties, she wipes at the sweat dripping down her forehead before standing on shaky legs and following the sound of Ellen’s voice, prepared to act as though nothing happened.
Ash was right. It did solve all of life’s problems, at least for a while.
**
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Ash/Jo
Word Count: 636
Warnings: Mild sex. Drug use.
Disclaimer: Ha. No. Not mine.
Summary: “Solves all of life’s problems,” he’d said.
Notes: This hit me out of nowhere while I was sleeping in class yesterday. Title taken from "Lit Up" by Buckcherry.
----------
Chronic giggling cuts through the boiling Nebraska countryside. She sits closer to Ash than her mama would approve of; shoulder-to-shoulder, arms brushing and thin layers of sweat mingling under the pounding rays of the midday sun.
Jo takes the joint when he passes it to her. Smoke filters out his nostrils as she takes a drag, holding it in and savoring the buzz. The smoke rising in waves from the tip of the joint matches the broiling heat radiating around them on the roof of the Roadhouse.
She releases the smoke in the same fashion as Ash. The memory of the first time he talked her into this still lingers at the back of her mind. It was two years ago; she was sixteen and the high school drama over the freak with a knife collection had her bummed and on the verge of utilizing pliers to relocate some balls after he made a smartass remark about her needing to get laid.
“Solves all of life’s problems,” he’d said.
How he had actually coerced her into joining him in his room is still a little hazy. The part that sticks out more isn’t the smoking; it’s the sex. He was her first, somehow having convinced her to give him a shot. In her state of lethargy, she had agreed. Looking back now, she’s pretty sure he only did it to give her a reason to attack other appendages when she’s pissed at him.
Whether it’s true or not, it sure as hell worked.
No regrets.
She leans back, arms behind, palms flat against the heated roof. She laughs at nothing in particular and squints up at the clear sky. Ash leans over and whispers something in her ear that makes her blush furiously.
She shifts so that her back is resting against his chest. He wraps an arm around her waist and she leans her head back into his chest, just under his chin. The smell of marijuana emanates from him. Breathing in deep and exhaling slowly, it almost gets her higher than a long, hard drag.
Her palm runs over the bulge in his jeans, kneading against the ragged denim, making him grunt as he grows harder. Unzipping his jeans, she finishes him off; yet another favor shared between friends. By now she knows exactly what works; how the scrape of teeth makes him groan, how it feels when his seed slides down her throat.
“Damn, girl,” he says, his hand now under her shirt and drifting over her breasts.
She grins lazily, moving back up to her previous position, sitting right next to him and lounging back against his chest. She closes her eyes and lets his hands take over, running down her sides, under her bra, drawing her nipples painfully hard.
She didn’t dub him Dr. Badass for nothing.
The fastenings on her jeans are loosened and he dives under the waistband of her panties. Hips rock with his motion, giving him complete control. He works his magic, finding a new, thrilling way to send her crashing down every time. He hits just the right angle and she comes violently around his fingers, moaning so loud that it echoes back.
She stays limp in his arms, trying desperately to catch her breath. She doesn’t know whether it’s the pot or just the exhilerating sexual workout, but’s she’s suddenly starved.
“Joanna Beth!”
She startles at her mother’s voice from inside the Roadhouse. Fixing her jeans and making a mental note to stop by her room and get a change of panties, she wipes at the sweat dripping down her forehead before standing on shaky legs and following the sound of Ellen’s voice, prepared to act as though nothing happened.
Ash was right. It did solve all of life’s problems, at least for a while.
**