Emily (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2007-08-31 08:25 pm
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2007-08-31 08:25 pm
Sam/Shannon - Pool Boy
Fandom: Supernatural/Lost
Title: Pool Boy
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
iluvroadrunner6
Rating: Hard R/FRM
Characters: slightly evil!Sam Winchester/Shannon Rutherford, Sabrina Carlyle, mentions of Boone Carlyle
Content Warning: evil!Sam, sexual content.
Summary: Sam goes to work as the Carlyles' pool boy.
Author's Note: Stanford era. This originally started out as angst-laced fluff, but then mutated into this Evil!Sam thing and I'm not quite sure how--but I think I like it.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Supernatural or Lost. They're owned by ABC and the CW. However, any and all original characters are mine, so please do not use them without my permission.
This was going to be a long summer.
“So—Sam, is it?” Sabrina said as she walked through the house. The woman seemed to be surgically attached to her blackberry.
“Yeah.” Rich bitch can’t even get off the phone long enough to interview an emoployee. Fuckin’ idiot. Sam swallowed hard and pushed the voice to the back of his mind, something he had gotten used to doing a lot lately. He just waited for Sabrina to continue, watching her, trying to convince himself that she couldn’t read his mind.
“You can stay out in the pool house for the summer, help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge, but try to stay out of the way, alright?”
“OK,” Sam nodded slowly, not really sure what to think of this woman. “So all I have to do is clean the pool, right?”
“Right,” she nodded. “And you may be given a few extra chores here and there.”
He nodded again, before turning his gaze out the kitchen window to the large pool sitting on the estate. He was taking this job out of absolute desperation. He knew if Dean had seen him, the cracks would be endless, but thankfully, he hadn’t spoken to Dean in a few months and had no intention to. So—hopefully—this job would never be one his brother would find out about.
His eyes caught a flash of blond by the pool, and his eyes landed on the blond woman tanning on the edge of the pool. Sabrina seemed to follow his gaze, and sneered slightly. “I’d stay away from that one.”
“I’m sorry?” he frowned, turning back to the woman.
“Well, she’s a bit out of your league, don’t you think?” she replied, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she studied his appearance once again. “Besides—the family of the house shouldn’t mix with the help.”
Sam bit back an angrier response, before nodding. “Right. I’ll go get settled then.”
Sabrina watched him for a minute, before nodding. “You do that.”
Sam navigated his way out of the back door towards the pool house, and he could feel the eyes of both women on him as he went. They were both appraising him in a way, trying to see if he would make some kind of cut. He tried to seem like he didn’t notice that they were watching him, but he didn’t breath until he disappeared behind the door of the pool house, praying that he stopped being so interesting very quickly.
***
“Hey, pool boy.”
Sam looked up and saw the blond—Shannon, they said her name was—standing near the edge of the pool. He took a deep breath for a minute, and gave her a look, hoping to maintain some kind of dignity on this job. “It’s Sam.”
“Whatever,” she said, rolling her eyes slightly. She was your typical spoiled heiress in every sense, except there was something about her that Sam couldn’t quite place. She seemed to be wearing the heiress persona like a costume, as to not make waves. As if things were easier when she pretended she didn’t know anything. “You missed a spot,” she stated.
“Thanks,” he said dryly after her, before going back to take care of the spot. He watched her out of the corner of his eye. She wasn’t shy about watching him. He had felt her watching him since she started working there. She would just stand there, studying him like he was some kind of interesting specimen of some kind. He wasn’t sure what she was thinking—whether she considered him scandal material, or she just wanted to piss of her stepmother or what, but—the way she was looking at him—it wasn’t the way she was supposed to be.
You could take her in a half a second—grab her, take her back around the pool house where no one would see. Bet she wouldn’t fight back much. Bet she’d only struggle for a minute before she’d given, slutty princess bitch—
He shook his head, pushing the thought to the back of his mind. More and more thoughts like those had been popping up lately. Sometimes they scared him, but most of the time he just pushed them away and focused on something else, something other than the long bare legs, golden tan as they stood next to him, and went back to the work he was supposed to be doing. He finished what he was doing and was prepared to disappear back into the pool house again, when he started to walk away, she spoke up again.
“You go to Stanford, right?”
“Yeah,” he said slowly. “What about it?”
“Nothing,” she said awkwardly. “Just—trying to make conversation.”
“Oh.” He stared back at her, unsure of what to say, and she looked away, indifference replacing interest.
“Whatever. Just forget it.” She walked away, back to the other side of the pool, and Sam just retreated back into the pool house. There really wasn’t any way to try and breach the chasm between them. And Sam knew it was probably better if it stayed that way.
***
You would have had to have been death not to have heard the way the door slammed.
Sam was a light sleeper already, and the slam of the back door of the house was enough to jolt him from his sleep, tense and ready to attack. Some instincts hadn’t faded with time, and loud noises still made him reach for his rifle, or knife, or whatever form of protection he had on him at the moment. He got up and walked toward the window of the pool house, peering around the curtain to see what was going on.
He saw Shannon first, pacing angrily back and forth across the end of the pool near the diving board. She was followed by Sabrina’s son—he was pretty sure the guy’s name was Boone—who seemed like he was trying to calm her down, but Shannon wasn’t hearing any of it. She was just screaming back, and backing away from him, closer and closer to the edge of the pool. Boone seemed to notice what she was going to do and started to try and pull her away from the edge when she started fighting back more, her foot hitting the edge of the pool in just the right way that caused her to lose her balance and go tumbling into the water.
She came up, cough, sputtering, and seemingly more pissed off than before, this time probably more with herself than anyone else. She swam her way to the side, and Boone tried to help her out of the water, but she refused his help, pushing herself up, and pushing him away from her.
“Damnit, Boone, just leave me the fuck alone.”
Boone finally seemed to get the message, and he made his way back into the main house. Shannon sat down on one of the lawn chairs, dripping wet and not wanting to go back into the house anytime soon. Sam was still watching her from the window, thinking that he was out of sight, but then Shannon snapped around looking at him directly in the window. He tried to move out of her line of vision as quickly as he could, but he knew that he was busted and she had seen him. He walked away from the window to sit on his bed, not sure what he was going to do if she confronted him about it, just having this feeling in the pit of his stomach that she probably would.
It was only a few minutes before he heard a knock on the door, and he waited a few minutes before getting up from the bed and walking over to the door. Shannon glared back at him, her hands on her hips.
“So—guess you like sticking your nose in other people’s business?”
“What’re you talking about?” he lied, hoping it would cover him.
“I saw you. Don’t try and lie your way out of it. And you were at the door pretty quickly for a guy who was just sleeping.”
“I’m a light sleeper.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Actually—that’s the truth.”
“Whatever.” She paused for a minute, before trying to stick her head around the corner of the door. “You have a washer/dryer thing in here, right?”
“Yeah,” he said, backing away from the door to give her room to move. “Be my guest.”
She didn’t anything, just stalked past him to the little alcove where the washer and dryer was. He had watched her as she went, eyes drinking in the sight of her soaking wet, clothes clinging to her skin. That voice in the back of his head roared to life again, daring him to watch her undress, see the clothes peel from her skin and drink in the sights of her curves and lines.
She’d be so feeble, so easy. You’re so much stronger than her. All you’d need is to get between her and a wall and she’s yours. His head began to swim with visions of her bent of over the dryer, or tangled in his sheets, bite marks and bruises marring her tanned skin. He pinched his eyes closed, willing them away before they could do any damage.
He turned around to find her something to wear, pulling out a t-shirt and basketball shorts, before starting to go back to the alcove. He didn’t go in, just leaned back against the wall, and held his hand out. “Thought you might like something to wear.”
There was a long silence, before the clothes were snatched from his hand. “What? Don’t want to ogle me, like the rest of the male population in this world?”
“No,” he said slowly, not wanting to lose his temper with her like everyone else had that night. “Just wanted to give you your privacy.”
Shannon didn’t say anything to that, and there was a soft rustle of clothing before he heard the washer start, and Shannon stepped out into his line of vision. She ran a hand through her still wet hair, before looking up at him.
“Thanks.”
There wasn’t much gratitude behind it, just like she was saying something because she knew she was supposed to. Sam just shrugged it off, before starting to head back to the bed, and she just stood there, looking at him like she expected him to do something that he wasn’t. He watched her a minute, before smiling slowly and saying dryly. “Do you want to stay here tonight, Shannon?”
Her eyes narrowed, “You don’t have to be an ass about it.”
“True. I don’t. But if you are gonna be an ass to me, I’m gonna be one right back.”
“Oh, fuck you.”
Sam just shook his head with a smirk, “Well, what’re you gonna do? You walking back in there with the pool boy’s clothes on is gonna go over real well.”
She glared at him for a minute, before speaking up again. “You think you’re so fuckin’ smart, don’t you? ‘Giving me my privacy,’ my ass. You’re not better than any of the other pieces of shit that have worked here.”
“—the fuck?” Sam frowned giving her a look. The little whore—
“I see the way you fuckin’ look at me, and don’t tell me you don’t. You’re all the fuckin’ same. You all look at me like I’m some kinda piece of ass with no brain who’s just out to screw anyone who gives her the time of day. You don’t give a shit about how I might feel about the whole thing.”
“People only think you’re a piece of ass because you don’t really give them anything to prove yourself otherwise,” he shouted back at her, the growl in his voice something foreign, something he had never heard before. He wanted to back up, before he did something he regretted, but something surged forward in him, pushing him to provoke her further. She only glared back at him, before he felt her hand whip across his face.
At that, whatever the hell it was inside him snapped. She wound up to slap him again, but this time he caught her hand, pulling her against him. She didn’t seem to struggle much, just let him back her towards the wall of the pool house as he dipped his head to whisper in her ear.
“This what you want?”
His voice was deathly low, something he didn’t even recognize, almost like his entire personality had changed. Shannon didn’t fight, didn’t try and push him away, only ground her hips back against him and whispered back sweetly in his ear.
“You tell me.”
He chuckled, low and gravely before biting down on her neck and feeling her arch up into him, a gasping moan on her lips.
“So—Daddy’s little Princess like it rough, does she?”
She didn’t answer, just kissed him roughly biting down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. The copper taste mixing with the taste of her on his tongue pushed the last of his doubts far from his mind as he yanked her away from the wall, and tossed her down on his bed, fingers tearing at clothes and teeth nipping at skin.
There was nothing gentle or loving about it. It was angry, rough, animal lust, neither of them giving anything, but taking all they could get. There wasn’t any waiting for cues, just doing whatever they wanted to each other as soon as they got the chance. By the time the two of them collapsed next to each other, she was covered in bite marks and bruises, just like the image that had passed through his mind, but he wasn’t without his own injuries, matching bruises and long red lines down his back where she had dug in with her nails, and tore them through his skin.
***
When he woke up the next morning, she was gone. His clothes were left in the pile, and hers were gone from the dryer. He winced as he moved, feeling the sore muscles stretch from their hard night. He tried not to think much of her as he went through his routine, praying that when he stepped out to take care of the pool, there wasn’t going to be some cop waiting for him, accusing him of raping her or something. He waited for the dark voice to creep in to the back of his mind again, but it didn’t come, somewhat appeased by the events of the night before.
He took a deep breath before stepping outside, getting on with his daily duties, and it was an hour before she stepped out of the house, sunglasses over her eyes. She started to make her way around the pool, examining the edge, before looking up at him.
“Missed a spot.”
He smirked back slightly, before nodding. “Thanks.” He could see where she had used make-up to cover the bruises and marks, but he had a feeling to someone far away, they wouldn’t even blink.
“Look, Sam—about last night. It was just a one time thing, alright.”
“Yeah. No big deal.”
“Yeah. Whatever.” She adjusted her sunglasses on her eyes, before walking over to the lounge chair, and settling herself in, leaning back into the sun. He sighed heavily before shaking his head and going back to the pool.
It was going to be a really long summer.
Title: Pool Boy
Author:
iluvroadrunner6Rating: Hard R/FRM
Characters: slightly evil!Sam Winchester/Shannon Rutherford, Sabrina Carlyle, mentions of Boone Carlyle
Content Warning: evil!Sam, sexual content.
Summary: Sam goes to work as the Carlyles' pool boy.
Author's Note: Stanford era. This originally started out as angst-laced fluff, but then mutated into this Evil!Sam thing and I'm not quite sure how--but I think I like it.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Supernatural or Lost. They're owned by ABC and the CW. However, any and all original characters are mine, so please do not use them without my permission.
This was going to be a long summer.
“So—Sam, is it?” Sabrina said as she walked through the house. The woman seemed to be surgically attached to her blackberry.
“Yeah.” Rich bitch can’t even get off the phone long enough to interview an emoployee. Fuckin’ idiot. Sam swallowed hard and pushed the voice to the back of his mind, something he had gotten used to doing a lot lately. He just waited for Sabrina to continue, watching her, trying to convince himself that she couldn’t read his mind.
“You can stay out in the pool house for the summer, help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge, but try to stay out of the way, alright?”
“OK,” Sam nodded slowly, not really sure what to think of this woman. “So all I have to do is clean the pool, right?”
“Right,” she nodded. “And you may be given a few extra chores here and there.”
He nodded again, before turning his gaze out the kitchen window to the large pool sitting on the estate. He was taking this job out of absolute desperation. He knew if Dean had seen him, the cracks would be endless, but thankfully, he hadn’t spoken to Dean in a few months and had no intention to. So—hopefully—this job would never be one his brother would find out about.
His eyes caught a flash of blond by the pool, and his eyes landed on the blond woman tanning on the edge of the pool. Sabrina seemed to follow his gaze, and sneered slightly. “I’d stay away from that one.”
“I’m sorry?” he frowned, turning back to the woman.
“Well, she’s a bit out of your league, don’t you think?” she replied, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she studied his appearance once again. “Besides—the family of the house shouldn’t mix with the help.”
Sam bit back an angrier response, before nodding. “Right. I’ll go get settled then.”
Sabrina watched him for a minute, before nodding. “You do that.”
Sam navigated his way out of the back door towards the pool house, and he could feel the eyes of both women on him as he went. They were both appraising him in a way, trying to see if he would make some kind of cut. He tried to seem like he didn’t notice that they were watching him, but he didn’t breath until he disappeared behind the door of the pool house, praying that he stopped being so interesting very quickly.
***
“Hey, pool boy.”
Sam looked up and saw the blond—Shannon, they said her name was—standing near the edge of the pool. He took a deep breath for a minute, and gave her a look, hoping to maintain some kind of dignity on this job. “It’s Sam.”
“Whatever,” she said, rolling her eyes slightly. She was your typical spoiled heiress in every sense, except there was something about her that Sam couldn’t quite place. She seemed to be wearing the heiress persona like a costume, as to not make waves. As if things were easier when she pretended she didn’t know anything. “You missed a spot,” she stated.
“Thanks,” he said dryly after her, before going back to take care of the spot. He watched her out of the corner of his eye. She wasn’t shy about watching him. He had felt her watching him since she started working there. She would just stand there, studying him like he was some kind of interesting specimen of some kind. He wasn’t sure what she was thinking—whether she considered him scandal material, or she just wanted to piss of her stepmother or what, but—the way she was looking at him—it wasn’t the way she was supposed to be.
You could take her in a half a second—grab her, take her back around the pool house where no one would see. Bet she wouldn’t fight back much. Bet she’d only struggle for a minute before she’d given, slutty princess bitch—
He shook his head, pushing the thought to the back of his mind. More and more thoughts like those had been popping up lately. Sometimes they scared him, but most of the time he just pushed them away and focused on something else, something other than the long bare legs, golden tan as they stood next to him, and went back to the work he was supposed to be doing. He finished what he was doing and was prepared to disappear back into the pool house again, when he started to walk away, she spoke up again.
“You go to Stanford, right?”
“Yeah,” he said slowly. “What about it?”
“Nothing,” she said awkwardly. “Just—trying to make conversation.”
“Oh.” He stared back at her, unsure of what to say, and she looked away, indifference replacing interest.
“Whatever. Just forget it.” She walked away, back to the other side of the pool, and Sam just retreated back into the pool house. There really wasn’t any way to try and breach the chasm between them. And Sam knew it was probably better if it stayed that way.
***
You would have had to have been death not to have heard the way the door slammed.
Sam was a light sleeper already, and the slam of the back door of the house was enough to jolt him from his sleep, tense and ready to attack. Some instincts hadn’t faded with time, and loud noises still made him reach for his rifle, or knife, or whatever form of protection he had on him at the moment. He got up and walked toward the window of the pool house, peering around the curtain to see what was going on.
He saw Shannon first, pacing angrily back and forth across the end of the pool near the diving board. She was followed by Sabrina’s son—he was pretty sure the guy’s name was Boone—who seemed like he was trying to calm her down, but Shannon wasn’t hearing any of it. She was just screaming back, and backing away from him, closer and closer to the edge of the pool. Boone seemed to notice what she was going to do and started to try and pull her away from the edge when she started fighting back more, her foot hitting the edge of the pool in just the right way that caused her to lose her balance and go tumbling into the water.
She came up, cough, sputtering, and seemingly more pissed off than before, this time probably more with herself than anyone else. She swam her way to the side, and Boone tried to help her out of the water, but she refused his help, pushing herself up, and pushing him away from her.
“Damnit, Boone, just leave me the fuck alone.”
Boone finally seemed to get the message, and he made his way back into the main house. Shannon sat down on one of the lawn chairs, dripping wet and not wanting to go back into the house anytime soon. Sam was still watching her from the window, thinking that he was out of sight, but then Shannon snapped around looking at him directly in the window. He tried to move out of her line of vision as quickly as he could, but he knew that he was busted and she had seen him. He walked away from the window to sit on his bed, not sure what he was going to do if she confronted him about it, just having this feeling in the pit of his stomach that she probably would.
It was only a few minutes before he heard a knock on the door, and he waited a few minutes before getting up from the bed and walking over to the door. Shannon glared back at him, her hands on her hips.
“So—guess you like sticking your nose in other people’s business?”
“What’re you talking about?” he lied, hoping it would cover him.
“I saw you. Don’t try and lie your way out of it. And you were at the door pretty quickly for a guy who was just sleeping.”
“I’m a light sleeper.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Actually—that’s the truth.”
“Whatever.” She paused for a minute, before trying to stick her head around the corner of the door. “You have a washer/dryer thing in here, right?”
“Yeah,” he said, backing away from the door to give her room to move. “Be my guest.”
She didn’t anything, just stalked past him to the little alcove where the washer and dryer was. He had watched her as she went, eyes drinking in the sight of her soaking wet, clothes clinging to her skin. That voice in the back of his head roared to life again, daring him to watch her undress, see the clothes peel from her skin and drink in the sights of her curves and lines.
She’d be so feeble, so easy. You’re so much stronger than her. All you’d need is to get between her and a wall and she’s yours. His head began to swim with visions of her bent of over the dryer, or tangled in his sheets, bite marks and bruises marring her tanned skin. He pinched his eyes closed, willing them away before they could do any damage.
He turned around to find her something to wear, pulling out a t-shirt and basketball shorts, before starting to go back to the alcove. He didn’t go in, just leaned back against the wall, and held his hand out. “Thought you might like something to wear.”
There was a long silence, before the clothes were snatched from his hand. “What? Don’t want to ogle me, like the rest of the male population in this world?”
“No,” he said slowly, not wanting to lose his temper with her like everyone else had that night. “Just wanted to give you your privacy.”
Shannon didn’t say anything to that, and there was a soft rustle of clothing before he heard the washer start, and Shannon stepped out into his line of vision. She ran a hand through her still wet hair, before looking up at him.
“Thanks.”
There wasn’t much gratitude behind it, just like she was saying something because she knew she was supposed to. Sam just shrugged it off, before starting to head back to the bed, and she just stood there, looking at him like she expected him to do something that he wasn’t. He watched her a minute, before smiling slowly and saying dryly. “Do you want to stay here tonight, Shannon?”
Her eyes narrowed, “You don’t have to be an ass about it.”
“True. I don’t. But if you are gonna be an ass to me, I’m gonna be one right back.”
“Oh, fuck you.”
Sam just shook his head with a smirk, “Well, what’re you gonna do? You walking back in there with the pool boy’s clothes on is gonna go over real well.”
She glared at him for a minute, before speaking up again. “You think you’re so fuckin’ smart, don’t you? ‘Giving me my privacy,’ my ass. You’re not better than any of the other pieces of shit that have worked here.”
“—the fuck?” Sam frowned giving her a look. The little whore—
“I see the way you fuckin’ look at me, and don’t tell me you don’t. You’re all the fuckin’ same. You all look at me like I’m some kinda piece of ass with no brain who’s just out to screw anyone who gives her the time of day. You don’t give a shit about how I might feel about the whole thing.”
“People only think you’re a piece of ass because you don’t really give them anything to prove yourself otherwise,” he shouted back at her, the growl in his voice something foreign, something he had never heard before. He wanted to back up, before he did something he regretted, but something surged forward in him, pushing him to provoke her further. She only glared back at him, before he felt her hand whip across his face.
At that, whatever the hell it was inside him snapped. She wound up to slap him again, but this time he caught her hand, pulling her against him. She didn’t seem to struggle much, just let him back her towards the wall of the pool house as he dipped his head to whisper in her ear.
“This what you want?”
His voice was deathly low, something he didn’t even recognize, almost like his entire personality had changed. Shannon didn’t fight, didn’t try and push him away, only ground her hips back against him and whispered back sweetly in his ear.
“You tell me.”
He chuckled, low and gravely before biting down on her neck and feeling her arch up into him, a gasping moan on her lips.
“So—Daddy’s little Princess like it rough, does she?”
She didn’t answer, just kissed him roughly biting down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. The copper taste mixing with the taste of her on his tongue pushed the last of his doubts far from his mind as he yanked her away from the wall, and tossed her down on his bed, fingers tearing at clothes and teeth nipping at skin.
There was nothing gentle or loving about it. It was angry, rough, animal lust, neither of them giving anything, but taking all they could get. There wasn’t any waiting for cues, just doing whatever they wanted to each other as soon as they got the chance. By the time the two of them collapsed next to each other, she was covered in bite marks and bruises, just like the image that had passed through his mind, but he wasn’t without his own injuries, matching bruises and long red lines down his back where she had dug in with her nails, and tore them through his skin.
***
When he woke up the next morning, she was gone. His clothes were left in the pile, and hers were gone from the dryer. He winced as he moved, feeling the sore muscles stretch from their hard night. He tried not to think much of her as he went through his routine, praying that when he stepped out to take care of the pool, there wasn’t going to be some cop waiting for him, accusing him of raping her or something. He waited for the dark voice to creep in to the back of his mind again, but it didn’t come, somewhat appeased by the events of the night before.
He took a deep breath before stepping outside, getting on with his daily duties, and it was an hour before she stepped out of the house, sunglasses over her eyes. She started to make her way around the pool, examining the edge, before looking up at him.
“Missed a spot.”
He smirked back slightly, before nodding. “Thanks.” He could see where she had used make-up to cover the bruises and marks, but he had a feeling to someone far away, they wouldn’t even blink.
“Look, Sam—about last night. It was just a one time thing, alright.”
“Yeah. No big deal.”
“Yeah. Whatever.” She adjusted her sunglasses on her eyes, before walking over to the lounge chair, and settling herself in, leaning back into the sun. He sighed heavily before shaking his head and going back to the pool.
It was going to be a really long summer.