blue_bells

» Title: Whole Lotta Love
» Fandom: Supernatural
» Warnings: Schmoop, classic rock love
» Pairing(s)/Characters: Pamela/Jo
» Summary: Pamela had never seen Jo under a sunrise or had to reach out for her in moonless nights. But tomorrow, maybe.
» A/N: Originally written here for

theinsaneeraser at

comment_fic. The final word in the lyric at the story's end is often contended, so let's fly with this version today. Title is taken from the Led Zeppelin song by the same name.

“What?” Pam smiled with an innocent shrug, stepping closer between Jo’s legs where the blonde sat on the bar.

Jo bit her lip to keep from smiling when Pam reached for her sides again.

“No, don’t—“ Jo jerked, eyes squeezing shut as she shrieked with laughter, pushing Pam’s tickling hands away.

“What?” Pam teased as Jo tried and failed to catch her hands, let Jo’s ankles hook at her lower back and reel her in.

Jo’s whole body was rigid and tensed for Pam’s next attack, breaths short, but she was beaming, bright hair spilling down her neck as Pam leaned up to kiss her smile. The sun streamed through the tall window over the counter, bouncing rays off the polished wood and draught taps onto their skin as Pamela pulled Jo flush against her, sharing a snicker when Jo sat on her hands to halt their wander back to Jo’s ticklish ribs.

The sun was always waning in her Heaven. Pamela had never seen Jo under a sunrise or had to reach out for her in moonless nights. But tomorrow, maybe.

Jo hummed happily against her lips, nuzzled with a seldom-faded smile and, not for the first time, Pamela was glad Ash had brought Jo through this transit station, that Jo never seemed to mind the endless sunset.

“’M ready when you are,” Jo said, fingers kneading the back of Pamela’s neck as she wrapped legs around her waist. Pamela grinned, squeezing the denim-clad ass in her hands as Jo rocked against her stomach and Jo was quick to anchor herself when the psychic hoisted her off the bar, sharp inhale of sound lost when Pamela kissed her again and marched them to the back exit.

“Go on," Jo said, reaching behind her.

Pamela felt Jo’s hold loosen as that door swung open and a blast of heat hit them the same time as the roar of adoration and tuning guitars like Jo had flicked a switch, unmuting the real glory of Heaven. Jo’s hands were at Pamela’s shoulders, trusting the other woman to let her down as she had all the times past before Pamela sauntered out onto that stage to the ballad of her life.

Jo grunted when Pamela crushed her against the wooden doorframe, melted in surprise as Pamela held her up and kissed her deep, slow and hungry. Jo’s groan trembled against Pamela’s lips, the sound reverberating through her body everywhere Pamela pressed, ground up between the v of her thighs.

“Ugh… Pam….” Jo growled, head falling back against the doorframe as Pamela’s mouth slid down her chin, trailing wet kisses to her neck.

Pamela hugged Jo to her, holding a kiss under her jaw.

“Joanna Beth Harvelle,” Pamela murmured and smiled up into Jo’s look of concern at the use of her full name. “Would you give me a whole lotta love, honey?”

Jo blinked, hands tight on her shoulders as she searched Pamela’s face, understanding slowly dawning in her expression.

“Really?” Jo glanced to the side, towards the waiting stage under bright lights. “Out there?”

Pamela couldn’t help the shrug, swaying them with a roll of her hips.

“On my stairway to Heaven.”

Jo arched a dark eyebrow, lips pursing to fight the smile at Pamela’s choice of words.

“Okay, I get the idea. I did grow up in a bar and our jukebox didn’t lack for Zeppelin.”

Pamela laughed and settled Jo on her feet, sped her on with a slap on her ass and grinned at the flirtatiously vengeful look thrown back in her direction.

It was the first time she’d shared this slice of her paradise, but she knew she made the right choice with the smooth familiar weight of her six string and Jo at her side, microphone in hand, like she’d been there all along.

“Way down inside. Woman, you need me.”

And the crowd went wild.