Blue Moon (Now I'm No Longer Alone)
Title: Blue Moon (Now I’m No Longer Alone)
Rating: R
Genre: Gen?
Word Count: ~1200
Spoilers: I guess for 5x22, though the story takes place pre-series
Warnings: Maybe the darkest thing I've written. Non-con, possession, OPOV
Disclaimer: Please don't sue me.
Note: Written for this prompt at spnkink_meme. (Hi Ma! Please don't click that link.) Also crosses off the rape/non-con square on my hc_bingo. But don't bother looking for it, there's no comfort here.
Summary: Sam loses his virginity on prom night. So does his possessed prom date.
(AO3)
Rachel Nave hasn't been Rachel Nave for almost two months. Not since Sam Winchester slid into the seat next to hers in Chemistry on his first day of school and shot her a blinding smile that made her knees go weak.
That night the darkness came, and forced its way into her, and took over her body. And now Rachel is a prisoner, a puppet, and she wishes Sam Winchester had never been born. She screams and kicks and claws for control of her body but the demon is in charge, the demon is always in charge.
* * *
Two months ago Rachel was looking forward to graduating and starting college in the fall, and meeting a cute boy, and becoming a veterinarian. They would have big happy dogs and snuggly cats and acres of land and maybe even a horse someday.
Now she lives in a cage the exact size and shape of her body, and she's in a constant state of claustrophobic fury. She fantasizes about cutting her own throat, so her soul can escape surfing waves of blood, and she can be free. The demon laughs at her when she thinks that. It's you and me till the end, baby, the demon whispers inside her head. And I can't be killed.
* * *
The demon is not happy about this fucking babysitting assignment, he tells Rachel on their first night together. He's there for one reason only, to watch over Sam, and he's been placed under strict orders not to cause any chaos or draw any unwanted attention.
So he gets most of his entertainment from fucking with Rachel.
He talks to her constantly, a twisty-slithery voice in her head that she can't ignore, even as he answers questions for her in class or talks to her friends on the phone or accepts a date from Sam. He keeps up a steady litany of all the things he would do to the people she loves, to the children waiting at bus stops, to the Boyd's newborn baby, if only he weren't on a mission.
He lets her surface from time to time, just long enough to say “Mom!” or “Hey!” before he's shoving her deep down into her own skin again. That's one of his favorite games, giving her one second of control and then taking it back again as easily as popping off the head of a dandelion.
The demon also likes to make her touch herself. He doesn't seem to get off on it, not in any ordinary way she might expect from the way the boys at school talk; instead he revels in her humiliation and repulsion.
He feeds on it.
He is overfed.
Are you a virgin? he whispers as her hands unwillingly brush against her own nipples. And she wants to cry and she wants to scream and she wants to tell him to fuck off but her reflection smirks back at her and she has no secrets from him, none, and he laughs. I can help you fix that.
* * *
Rachel's mother is delighted that her shy, bookish daughter has a date to the prom. She's a little less thrilled that Rachel was asked by that boy who lives in the seedy motel on the edge of town-the one who wears threadbare clothes and doesn't seem to have much parental supervision-but she purses her lips and agrees to help Rachel shop for a dress and do up her hair.
Maybe it's the demon's horror-show whispers that she's forced to listen to almost incessantly, but Rachel is seized with the urge to stab her mother in the guts with a paring knife. How can she not know that Rachel isn't Rachel? What kind of mom doesn't recognize her own daughter?
"Thanks, Mom," Rachel's voice says sweetly, while the real Rachel seethes and rages.
* * *
Sam and the demon have a wonderful time at the prom. They press together during slow songs and nibble canapés during the fast ones. The demon tells him all about Rachel's plans for the future, and Sam tells her he's going away to college, he just has to figure out how to tell his family.
He's going to end the world, the demon murmurs, and she doesn't even care anymore. Fuck demons and fuck the world and fuck Sam Winchester.
Sam apologizes that he couldn't really afford to take her out for a nice dinner before, but he says they can go out for coffee and dessert if she wants. And they walk up the street to the First Avenue diner and they sit and talk and I'd love to just kill you both bloody and go do something really fun the demon tells her, while smiling at Sam and stealing a bite of his pie.
When Sam pulls out his wallet to pay for their food a condom flies onto the table and he blushes to the roots of his hair.
"Oh, man, I didn't put that…I'm sorry," he tells her, and he looks so embarrassed she thinks he might actually mean it. "Probably, my brother, he thinks he's hilarious…"
And the demon places her hand over his and gives him a look and says "It's okay, Sam."
* * *
"Are you sure,?" he must ask her a thousand times as they walk to his shabby motel room. "This, I mean, it's not really a nice hotel or anything. But my dad and my brother are away for the weekend…"
"It's perfect," the demon says, happier than when he'd made her strangle Mr. Diaz's cat Margarita.
* * *
Rachel Nave isn't Rachel Nave when she loses her virginity in a crummy motel room on unwashed sheets.
"Sorry," Sam mutters as he throws dirty clothes into the closet. "I, are you sure? I really wasn't expecting anything…" and Rachel, the real Rachel, knows that must be true because boys are maybe not the cleanest creatures on earth but they probably don't plan seductions in a room so messy and cheerless.
"I mean… I haven't really done this…" and then he trails off, self-conscious.
But the demon is very convincing, and Sam pulls her in for a kiss that tastes like cinnamon apples and coffee.
And Rachel's sorry about the thing with the paring knife because she just wants to crawl into her mother's arms and be safe, be Rachel, but instead Sam's unzipping her floor length dress and kissing her neck and she doesn't want any of this and she can't say no.
"Are you sure," Sam whispers as he kisses her breasts, and "Are you sure"?" Sam whispers as he kisses her stomach, and "Are you sure?" Sam whispers as he kisses her down low, and "Are you sure?" he asks, just before he's inside.
Does he want a fucking medal for sainthood? Or does he just not think you're pretty enough? the demon sneers, but he makes all the right noises and Rachel tries to say no no no but she's squashed down deep in her body and she can't say anything and then Sam Winchester is fucking her.
"Sam," the demon murmurs, and "Sam," the demon coos, and "Sam!" the demon moans, and then he pulls Rachel to the surface again, and "SAM!" Rachel cries, and Sam pulls back and looks at her, startled and scared, but the demon tucks her away again, and is there to soothe him.
"You just feel so good," the demon says. "Please, don't stop."
Rating: R
Genre: Gen?
Word Count: ~1200
Spoilers: I guess for 5x22, though the story takes place pre-series
Warnings: Maybe the darkest thing I've written. Non-con, possession, OPOV
Disclaimer: Please don't sue me.
Note: Written for this prompt at spnkink_meme. (Hi Ma! Please don't click that link.) Also crosses off the rape/non-con square on my hc_bingo. But don't bother looking for it, there's no comfort here.
Summary: Sam loses his virginity on prom night. So does his possessed prom date.
(AO3)
Rachel Nave hasn't been Rachel Nave for almost two months. Not since Sam Winchester slid into the seat next to hers in Chemistry on his first day of school and shot her a blinding smile that made her knees go weak.
That night the darkness came, and forced its way into her, and took over her body. And now Rachel is a prisoner, a puppet, and she wishes Sam Winchester had never been born. She screams and kicks and claws for control of her body but the demon is in charge, the demon is always in charge.
* * *
Two months ago Rachel was looking forward to graduating and starting college in the fall, and meeting a cute boy, and becoming a veterinarian. They would have big happy dogs and snuggly cats and acres of land and maybe even a horse someday.
Now she lives in a cage the exact size and shape of her body, and she's in a constant state of claustrophobic fury. She fantasizes about cutting her own throat, so her soul can escape surfing waves of blood, and she can be free. The demon laughs at her when she thinks that. It's you and me till the end, baby, the demon whispers inside her head. And I can't be killed.
* * *
The demon is not happy about this fucking babysitting assignment, he tells Rachel on their first night together. He's there for one reason only, to watch over Sam, and he's been placed under strict orders not to cause any chaos or draw any unwanted attention.
So he gets most of his entertainment from fucking with Rachel.
He talks to her constantly, a twisty-slithery voice in her head that she can't ignore, even as he answers questions for her in class or talks to her friends on the phone or accepts a date from Sam. He keeps up a steady litany of all the things he would do to the people she loves, to the children waiting at bus stops, to the Boyd's newborn baby, if only he weren't on a mission.
He lets her surface from time to time, just long enough to say “Mom!” or “Hey!” before he's shoving her deep down into her own skin again. That's one of his favorite games, giving her one second of control and then taking it back again as easily as popping off the head of a dandelion.
The demon also likes to make her touch herself. He doesn't seem to get off on it, not in any ordinary way she might expect from the way the boys at school talk; instead he revels in her humiliation and repulsion.
He feeds on it.
He is overfed.
Are you a virgin? he whispers as her hands unwillingly brush against her own nipples. And she wants to cry and she wants to scream and she wants to tell him to fuck off but her reflection smirks back at her and she has no secrets from him, none, and he laughs. I can help you fix that.
* * *
Rachel's mother is delighted that her shy, bookish daughter has a date to the prom. She's a little less thrilled that Rachel was asked by that boy who lives in the seedy motel on the edge of town-the one who wears threadbare clothes and doesn't seem to have much parental supervision-but she purses her lips and agrees to help Rachel shop for a dress and do up her hair.
Maybe it's the demon's horror-show whispers that she's forced to listen to almost incessantly, but Rachel is seized with the urge to stab her mother in the guts with a paring knife. How can she not know that Rachel isn't Rachel? What kind of mom doesn't recognize her own daughter?
"Thanks, Mom," Rachel's voice says sweetly, while the real Rachel seethes and rages.
* * *
Sam and the demon have a wonderful time at the prom. They press together during slow songs and nibble canapés during the fast ones. The demon tells him all about Rachel's plans for the future, and Sam tells her he's going away to college, he just has to figure out how to tell his family.
He's going to end the world, the demon murmurs, and she doesn't even care anymore. Fuck demons and fuck the world and fuck Sam Winchester.
Sam apologizes that he couldn't really afford to take her out for a nice dinner before, but he says they can go out for coffee and dessert if she wants. And they walk up the street to the First Avenue diner and they sit and talk and I'd love to just kill you both bloody and go do something really fun the demon tells her, while smiling at Sam and stealing a bite of his pie.
When Sam pulls out his wallet to pay for their food a condom flies onto the table and he blushes to the roots of his hair.
"Oh, man, I didn't put that…I'm sorry," he tells her, and he looks so embarrassed she thinks he might actually mean it. "Probably, my brother, he thinks he's hilarious…"
And the demon places her hand over his and gives him a look and says "It's okay, Sam."
* * *
"Are you sure,?" he must ask her a thousand times as they walk to his shabby motel room. "This, I mean, it's not really a nice hotel or anything. But my dad and my brother are away for the weekend…"
"It's perfect," the demon says, happier than when he'd made her strangle Mr. Diaz's cat Margarita.
* * *
Rachel Nave isn't Rachel Nave when she loses her virginity in a crummy motel room on unwashed sheets.
"Sorry," Sam mutters as he throws dirty clothes into the closet. "I, are you sure? I really wasn't expecting anything…" and Rachel, the real Rachel, knows that must be true because boys are maybe not the cleanest creatures on earth but they probably don't plan seductions in a room so messy and cheerless.
"I mean… I haven't really done this…" and then he trails off, self-conscious.
But the demon is very convincing, and Sam pulls her in for a kiss that tastes like cinnamon apples and coffee.
And Rachel's sorry about the thing with the paring knife because she just wants to crawl into her mother's arms and be safe, be Rachel, but instead Sam's unzipping her floor length dress and kissing her neck and she doesn't want any of this and she can't say no.
"Are you sure," Sam whispers as he kisses her breasts, and "Are you sure"?" Sam whispers as he kisses her stomach, and "Are you sure?" Sam whispers as he kisses her down low, and "Are you sure?" he asks, just before he's inside.
Does he want a fucking medal for sainthood? Or does he just not think you're pretty enough? the demon sneers, but he makes all the right noises and Rachel tries to say no no no but she's squashed down deep in her body and she can't say anything and then Sam Winchester is fucking her.
"Sam," the demon murmurs, and "Sam," the demon coos, and "Sam!" the demon moans, and then he pulls Rachel to the surface again, and "SAM!" Rachel cries, and Sam pulls back and looks at her, startled and scared, but the demon tucks her away again, and is there to soothe him.
"You just feel so good," the demon says. "Please, don't stop."