fic: The Vines Around My Heart
The Vines Around My Heart
Supernatural; girl!Sam/Jess; r; 1,350 words
Jess says, "You look so beautiful," and sometimes it still seems too good to be true.
Written for scorpiod1 for spn_fs_exchange. Thanks to familiardevil for looking it over. Originally posted here.
~*~
Parties aren't Sam's thing, but her roommate Holly convinces her to go, even though there'll be a ton of hot guys there isn't what convinces her. She's never had a boyfriend for longer than three months, and even then, he wasn't someone she got a chance to have a real relationship with (though she did sleep with him), but she knows enough to realize that guys don't like girls who know more about guns than they do, or a girl who could kick their ass. She wants to have fun before she buckles down on work, though, so she borrows one of Holly's miniskirts, and tucks a knife into her boot, just in case.
Everyone's drinking when they arrive, so Sam pays five bucks for a cup of lukewarm beer. The fact that it's not something even Dean would drink says something about the party, but she gulps it down, and goes to find a soda to get the taste out of her mouth. It takes her awhile to find the little card table with non-alcoholic drinks-it's tucked into a dark corner of the room.
"The beer tastes that bad, huh?" says a girl standing next to the table. She's tall-barely shorter than Sam-and blonde, has dangerous curves that don't match her sweet smile.
"Yeah," she replies, not sure her voice carries over the music. "This probably makes me a huge loser or something, but I don't even like beer."
"I have tequila, if you want that instead. I'm Jessica."
"Samantha. And sure, why not? My roommate wants me to get trashed."
"That's kind of the point of the party." She gives Sam a wicked grin. "Get some guy drunk enough to sleep with me and then tie him up so he's stuck here."
"Oh, damn, it's your party? I didn't mean to insult your beer..."
"Sam," Jess says; when she touches Sam's arm, her body tingles with electricity. "Don't worry about it."
She likes Jess already.
*
Having a best friend feels weird to Sam, since she's never stayed in one place long enough to really get to know anyone, let alone make friends and keep them. She and Jess study together, get mani-pedis and gossip on Saturday mornings (Dean and Dad would scoff if they knew), host movie night for their floors a couple times a month. Jess curls Sam's hair and laughs when it doesn't hold, then something clicks in her head and she starts talking about no matter how you slice it, poor people are always going to draw the short straw. Sam likes that she can go from carefree to serious in an instant, that she's not a stereotypical California blonde.
She asks Sam about her Thanksgiving plans, and about her high school friends. Sam just shrugs. "I'm staying here. Chinese food and Friends reruns, probably."
"Oh, Sam, you can't," Jess says, bright smile fading. "Come to my house. There's always plenty of room."
She watches the game with Jess's dad and brothers, helps out in the kitchen to keep from feeling useless. She stuffs herself with turkey and mashed potatoes and Jess's grandma's awesome chocolate cake, and has to undo the top button of her jeans for the first time in a long time.
Jess's bedroom still looks like a thirteen-year-old girl lives in it, all hearts and flowers and pictures of guys taped on the walls. Sam makes up the bed on the other side of the room, but after she's changed into sweats and a tank top, out of the blue, Jess kisses her, mouth cool and tasting like vanilla ice cream. Sam can't hold back a gasp of surprise-she's liked Jess as more than a friend for a while, but accepted that it would always be unrequited. "Jess," she says. "What-"
"It's okay," Jess answers. "It's-I mean, if you want to. Because I do. Well, obviously."
"Yeah, I do." Sam can feel her face flush, surprised and a little embarrassed. "I thought you liked guys."
"I...do." Jess laughs. "It's just you, I guess."
*
Sam can't really cook, and when Jess finds out, she's worried it'll be a deal breaker, because Jess has a huge appetite. Dean had taught Sam the basics, but (much to his dismay) he was always the better cook. It turns out to be fine, though, and when Sam burns the waffles, Jess just drowns them in butter and whipped cream, and slices up strawberries to have on top.
She can make an awesome grilled cheese, though, and when they move into their new apartment, they eat sitting on the floor, surrounded by boxes. Sam's never tasted a better sandwich.
*
For her birthday, Jess takes Sam to a lingerie store-a really upscale lingerie store. It's out of her price range, but she knows Jess's family has money, and Jess loves to splurge, whether it's on shoes or art supplies, though her favorite splurge is buying things for Sam.
Sam finds the sale rack and checks the price of a tissue-thin tank top, feeling sick to her stomach (the most expensive things she owns are her textbooks), but Jess sets her hands on the curve of Sam's hip and says, "Hey, don't even worry about it. Go find the fitting room and I'll pick you out some things."
She strips off her jeans, t-shirt, and Converses (too casual for a place this fancy, and her plain cotton bra and underwear definitely aren't helping). The curtains are thick, red velvet, and she's sitting on the little chaise in the corner when she hears Jess ask, "Sam? That you?" before nudging the curtain aside and stepping in, arms full: she's got pink lace and blue satin, black cotton soft-cup bras and scarlet red strapless. Sam still sees a too-skinny teenager with no curves or sex appeal whatsoever, but Jess oohs and ahs as Sam tries everything on. She blushes when Jess says, "You look so beautiful," because sometimes it still seems too good to be true. They kiss, Jess deftly working at the clasp of Sam's bra, Sam arching into the touch of Jess's hands on her breasts, thumbs rubbing at her peaked nipples.
She knows she needs to be quiet here-she'd like not to be asked to leave the place where she's getting more than one birthday gift-bites her lip as Jess slips her fingers beneath the fabric of the baby-doll cami and up the inside of Sam's thigh, makes her come apart with her hands and mouth. She swallows back a moan when she comes, then pulls Jess up to her to return the favor.
Jess buys almost everything Sam tried on, and a short white nightgown for herself. Sam doesn't even look at the bill. "How did I-"
"End up with an awesome girl like me?" Jess finishes for her, laughing. She thinks it's funny that Sam still thinks Jess is out of her league. "Karma."
"Thank you," Sam says when Jess hands her the bag. And then, softer: I love you.
*
The visions start a week later. At first, Sam gets these awful headaches, and she sees their apartment burning to the ground. Advil doesn't help, and anything stronger will make her loopy and useless. She chalks it up to the added stress of finals, sleeps for three days afterwards to clear her head.
The premonitions don't stop, though. They keep coming, clearer and more vivid, and Sam can practically smell the smoke and ash. In early August, they escalate into nightmares, invading the sleep that never comes easily to begin with. In the nightmares, Jess is pinned to the ceiling, bleeding from the stomach and engulfed in flames, but still conscious, mouth open in a silent cry for help.
Sam wakes up screaming, cold sweat making her shiver, clutching at Jess to make sure she's still safe and alive. It's okay, baby, Jess whispers, and Sam tries to believe her.
Supernatural; girl!Sam/Jess; r; 1,350 words
Jess says, "You look so beautiful," and sometimes it still seems too good to be true.
Written for scorpiod1 for spn_fs_exchange. Thanks to familiardevil for looking it over. Originally posted here.
~*~
Parties aren't Sam's thing, but her roommate Holly convinces her to go, even though there'll be a ton of hot guys there isn't what convinces her. She's never had a boyfriend for longer than three months, and even then, he wasn't someone she got a chance to have a real relationship with (though she did sleep with him), but she knows enough to realize that guys don't like girls who know more about guns than they do, or a girl who could kick their ass. She wants to have fun before she buckles down on work, though, so she borrows one of Holly's miniskirts, and tucks a knife into her boot, just in case.
Everyone's drinking when they arrive, so Sam pays five bucks for a cup of lukewarm beer. The fact that it's not something even Dean would drink says something about the party, but she gulps it down, and goes to find a soda to get the taste out of her mouth. It takes her awhile to find the little card table with non-alcoholic drinks-it's tucked into a dark corner of the room.
"The beer tastes that bad, huh?" says a girl standing next to the table. She's tall-barely shorter than Sam-and blonde, has dangerous curves that don't match her sweet smile.
"Yeah," she replies, not sure her voice carries over the music. "This probably makes me a huge loser or something, but I don't even like beer."
"I have tequila, if you want that instead. I'm Jessica."
"Samantha. And sure, why not? My roommate wants me to get trashed."
"That's kind of the point of the party." She gives Sam a wicked grin. "Get some guy drunk enough to sleep with me and then tie him up so he's stuck here."
"Oh, damn, it's your party? I didn't mean to insult your beer..."
"Sam," Jess says; when she touches Sam's arm, her body tingles with electricity. "Don't worry about it."
She likes Jess already.
*
Having a best friend feels weird to Sam, since she's never stayed in one place long enough to really get to know anyone, let alone make friends and keep them. She and Jess study together, get mani-pedis and gossip on Saturday mornings (Dean and Dad would scoff if they knew), host movie night for their floors a couple times a month. Jess curls Sam's hair and laughs when it doesn't hold, then something clicks in her head and she starts talking about no matter how you slice it, poor people are always going to draw the short straw. Sam likes that she can go from carefree to serious in an instant, that she's not a stereotypical California blonde.
She asks Sam about her Thanksgiving plans, and about her high school friends. Sam just shrugs. "I'm staying here. Chinese food and Friends reruns, probably."
"Oh, Sam, you can't," Jess says, bright smile fading. "Come to my house. There's always plenty of room."
She watches the game with Jess's dad and brothers, helps out in the kitchen to keep from feeling useless. She stuffs herself with turkey and mashed potatoes and Jess's grandma's awesome chocolate cake, and has to undo the top button of her jeans for the first time in a long time.
Jess's bedroom still looks like a thirteen-year-old girl lives in it, all hearts and flowers and pictures of guys taped on the walls. Sam makes up the bed on the other side of the room, but after she's changed into sweats and a tank top, out of the blue, Jess kisses her, mouth cool and tasting like vanilla ice cream. Sam can't hold back a gasp of surprise-she's liked Jess as more than a friend for a while, but accepted that it would always be unrequited. "Jess," she says. "What-"
"It's okay," Jess answers. "It's-I mean, if you want to. Because I do. Well, obviously."
"Yeah, I do." Sam can feel her face flush, surprised and a little embarrassed. "I thought you liked guys."
"I...do." Jess laughs. "It's just you, I guess."
*
Sam can't really cook, and when Jess finds out, she's worried it'll be a deal breaker, because Jess has a huge appetite. Dean had taught Sam the basics, but (much to his dismay) he was always the better cook. It turns out to be fine, though, and when Sam burns the waffles, Jess just drowns them in butter and whipped cream, and slices up strawberries to have on top.
She can make an awesome grilled cheese, though, and when they move into their new apartment, they eat sitting on the floor, surrounded by boxes. Sam's never tasted a better sandwich.
*
For her birthday, Jess takes Sam to a lingerie store-a really upscale lingerie store. It's out of her price range, but she knows Jess's family has money, and Jess loves to splurge, whether it's on shoes or art supplies, though her favorite splurge is buying things for Sam.
Sam finds the sale rack and checks the price of a tissue-thin tank top, feeling sick to her stomach (the most expensive things she owns are her textbooks), but Jess sets her hands on the curve of Sam's hip and says, "Hey, don't even worry about it. Go find the fitting room and I'll pick you out some things."
She strips off her jeans, t-shirt, and Converses (too casual for a place this fancy, and her plain cotton bra and underwear definitely aren't helping). The curtains are thick, red velvet, and she's sitting on the little chaise in the corner when she hears Jess ask, "Sam? That you?" before nudging the curtain aside and stepping in, arms full: she's got pink lace and blue satin, black cotton soft-cup bras and scarlet red strapless. Sam still sees a too-skinny teenager with no curves or sex appeal whatsoever, but Jess oohs and ahs as Sam tries everything on. She blushes when Jess says, "You look so beautiful," because sometimes it still seems too good to be true. They kiss, Jess deftly working at the clasp of Sam's bra, Sam arching into the touch of Jess's hands on her breasts, thumbs rubbing at her peaked nipples.
She knows she needs to be quiet here-she'd like not to be asked to leave the place where she's getting more than one birthday gift-bites her lip as Jess slips her fingers beneath the fabric of the baby-doll cami and up the inside of Sam's thigh, makes her come apart with her hands and mouth. She swallows back a moan when she comes, then pulls Jess up to her to return the favor.
Jess buys almost everything Sam tried on, and a short white nightgown for herself. Sam doesn't even look at the bill. "How did I-"
"End up with an awesome girl like me?" Jess finishes for her, laughing. She thinks it's funny that Sam still thinks Jess is out of her league. "Karma."
"Thank you," Sam says when Jess hands her the bag. And then, softer: I love you.
*
The visions start a week later. At first, Sam gets these awful headaches, and she sees their apartment burning to the ground. Advil doesn't help, and anything stronger will make her loopy and useless. She chalks it up to the added stress of finals, sleeps for three days afterwards to clear her head.
The premonitions don't stop, though. They keep coming, clearer and more vivid, and Sam can practically smell the smoke and ash. In early August, they escalate into nightmares, invading the sleep that never comes easily to begin with. In the nightmares, Jess is pinned to the ceiling, bleeding from the stomach and engulfed in flames, but still conscious, mouth open in a silent cry for help.
Sam wakes up screaming, cold sweat making her shiver, clutching at Jess to make sure she's still safe and alive. It's okay, baby, Jess whispers, and Sam tries to believe her.