Disclaimer: I don't own Sam and Dean, they belong to Eric Kripke and the CW, not me. I don't make any sort of money from this.
Warnings: Sexual context/overtones (not wincest), spanking and swearing.
Author's Note: Set during season 1.
There's a Lamia in this story which is vastlydifferent from the one actually featured in the show. I just played around with the various tales I've read about Lamias and came up with this one. The word 'daemon' isn't misspelled, by the way. This was written for FicwriterJet's prompt challenge on her website.
A huge thank you to FicwriterJet for all help with this!
I apologize beforehand for any eventual grammatical errors or spelling mistakes you may find, English isn't my first language!
PRIDE
Dean Winchester jumped as the door closed behind him loudly, then he heard the ominous click of the lock and the immediate protests of his brother on the other side. Sam hadn't been quick enough to get in with him. Well, he didn't really get the chance - it had happened all too fast for either of the brothers to react before it was too late.
Dean spun around to stare right at the daemon frowning at him, shaking her head. Oh, fuck.
The Lamia sighed, "What are you trying to do, human?"
"Kill you," Dean gritted out, clenching his jaw angrily.
"How is it going?"
"Shut up!" With that said, he attacked her.
About five minutes later, Dean was flying through the air like a rag doll for the third time that evening - grunting when he hit the wall forcefully, going out like a light as his head cracked against the hard surface. Finally, the Lamia thought as she looked at him, pleased that her plan had worked.
"You are quite rude," she told him, smacking her tongue in disapproval, "I didn't even invite you, yet you and your friend came bursting through my door like hooligans. With knifes drawn! Didn't your parents warn you about running around with sharp objects?"
The daemon ignored the yelling man on the other side of the locked door while she went to retrieve ropes in the cabinet of the room, talking to Dean - like he actually could hear her - under the whole time.
"You even tried to aim those dangerous knives at me - that's not how you treat a lady! Have your father taught you some manners at all? I'm sure we would have gotten along much better if you hadn't tried to kill me, you brute."
Again, the daemon shook her head and frowned. This whole experience had been a waste of her precious time, and these men were at fault for it.
"I'm sorry that I had to split you and your friend up, but I believe you worked each other up a bit," she explained softly, walking up to him again.
The Lamia grabbed Dean none too gently and hauled him to a chair with ease, sitting the slack body down to tie him up carefully. "Despite your lack of courtesy, you're kinda cute in a way."
Taking a step back to scrutinize him thoroughly and nodding to herself, she smirked a little. "You're a bit too rough for my taste, but I'm not that picky - I take what I can get."
Outside, Sam kicked the door one more time for good measure before he remembered the lock-picking set. He groaned as he almost slapped himself for not thinking of that from the start, quickly digging it up from his pocket to get the job done and save his brother. Meanwhile, the Lamia heard what he was doing, standing with her arms crossed as she stared at the door, patiently waiting for the young man to finish and join the party.
When he finally heard the sweet sound of the lock open for him, Sam barrelled in with the silverblade knife, but came to a sudden halt when he realized he'd been expected. And that his brother was completely out of the game, tied up to a chair. That's just great.
How would he fix this one single-handed? Every hunter knows you can't go after a Lamia on your own, you should always have someone with you. Preferably two. Or three. Maybe four.
Sam sure would love to have four other people with him right now.
The Lamia looked at him, her head tilted and her eyes sparkled, clearly interested in what she saw. She began to approach him with a tender smile and kind look upon her face, but Sam wasn't having none of that, just wanted her as far away from him as possible.
He stumbled backwards until he hit the wall, his breath caught in his throat fearfully. This wasn't good. He trembled somewhat when the daemon got closer to him, sneering at his panicked face; making his heart beat faster and faster, as if it was trying to break free from his chest.
Suddenly, she stopped, maybe a foot or so from Sam. She watched him as her eyes changed colour and he found himself unable to move now, to escape, to fucking breathe at all - the knife slipped through his grip as he gasped in surprise and pain, because those eyes, it was the exact same eyes-
He recognized them well, remembered them so clearly. It's been so long. Too long.. Sam felt tears spring forth as he got lost into them, soaking up every little detail he could find.
At the very same moment, Dean was starting to come around, groaning at the throbbing ache in the back of his head when he realized his arms were restricted. He instantly sobered up and his mind began to process what was happening automatically, his gaze spinning around the room to gather some information about the current situation.
To his horror, he saw Sam pressed up against the wall, the Lamia hovering close to him. Too close.
"Sam!" Dean shouted from the other side of the room, where he was struggling to get loose from the ropes around him. "Fight her off! Don'tlook into her eyes, for God's sake, what are you..? Do something, goddammit!"
Sam flinched at the unexpected bark of orders and his focus temporarily darted towards Dean and they stared at each other for a while, his big brother giving him a warning look and he knew what it meant - do as I say right now, Sam - but he just couldn't.
Dean glared at the other man, understanding that his little brother wasn't going to move at all to obey him, and he growled in anger. Sam wasn't trapped yet or he wouldn't have reacted to his voice, but he would be soon if he didn't do as told!
Sam could only watch with huge, wide eyes, like a deer in headlights, as the Lamia advanced on him. She was utterly gorgeous, disguised as a beautiful woman with fair skin and soft, dark hair swirling down, and he thought she was very attractive. Sam knew her beauty was false, pure trickery - it was how Lamias lurked men to follow them home to feed on their youth - but nevertheless, the daemon was stunning.
Sam licked his lips nervously and quietly prayed for any kind of mercy in his head, trying to force oxygen into his aching lungs, but the panick was crushing his chest with an iron fist and he simply couldn't get air; Oh God, I'm going to die, gonna be killed, this is it.
Desperate, the young man fought to make his limbs to move, but they felt like cement of the lingering shock and it seemed impossible to even lift a finger in defence. He felt like a caged animal; his feet glued to the floor, his arms pressed against the cracked wall behind him, mind racing like crazy - why the hell did he just stand there? Why weren't he fighting it like he had been taught?
But Sam couldn't bring himself to raise a hand against her after what he'd seen when he stared into the face of the Lamia, leaving him paralyzed from head to toe. The glimpse of his dead girlfriend's familiar blue, kind eyes looking back at him. Sam knew it was only an illusion, a mere manipulation to make him weaker, but a part of him didn't want to acknowledge that fact - he wanted it to somehow actually be her.
Oh, how Sam wished it was her.
The deamon reached out a warm hand and touched his face gently, smiling a little as a couple of tears started to fall down Sam's cheeks. He continued staring at her with a look of sheer terror, his chest heaving up and down and he shook his head to make her stop and let him be.
"Sammy! Don't let her touch you!" Dean almost jumped around the room with the chair trying so hard to get free.
He was blatantly ignored by both of them.
"Hush, baby," she whispered soothingly, trailing Sam's tense jaw with a finger, "I'm not going to hurt you. You won't feel a thing, I promise. I will take care of you."
No. No! Sam swallowed painfully, sweat began to run down his back and mouth going dry as he tried to remember what he was supposed to do. He remained motionless, frantically struggling to gather his scattered thoughts through the fearful ringing in his ears and the sound of his pulse beating. The youngest Winchester was certain it would burst any second.
"Keep still now, darling," the Lamia mumbled softly, as if Sam actually could do anything else.
Dean snarled from his seat, watching as that evil bitch leaned over his little brother, "No! Get away from him, you hear?!"
A daemon wasn't anything to mess around with, especially in their age, and Sam was aware of that, so why the hell did his little brother just let it happen? He knew perfectly well you shouldn't let a Lamia touch you - it was mere seconds from drinking the youth right out of him, for christ's sake!
"Hey!" Dean yelled, trying to snap the kid back to reality, because he wasn't even blinking at this point. What the fuck is he doing?
Sam didn't hear him; well, okay, maybe he did, but he dismissed it. The attention was turned to the beautiful woman - no wait, the daemon - in front of him, wanting her to show the eyes of Jess again. But instead, her lips were on his throat, kissing and biting softly, her breath warm against the skin.
The 22-year-old couldn't help but shiver; nearly gasping when the Lamia teasingly nibbled at his neck and he reacted automatically, yearning for her to continue. Giving in to the strong urge, Sam tilted his head to the side to offer better access, his body arching upwards to meet hers. He simply needed a woman's touch upon him again.
The struggle to think rational, along with the wish to get away from the daemon, started to fade away after they shared an eager kiss, leaving him panting loudly. His older brother frowned in worry, becoming nervous when Sam didn't try to push her away rather than tugging her closer.
"Sammy, step away from her," Dean ordered angrily, his voice turning into a dark growl, but Sam didn't even notice, wasn't aware of anything else than his own burning lust pulsating in him - rapidly growing into something uncontrollable, wild and greedy, so much more than he could handle, and when his head started to yell want, want, want, he couldn't turn away. No, impossible.
He'd fallen head first into her trap, but he didn't mind; too caught up in the moment as he pressed his mouth hard against hers again, demanding more - want more, need it, come on, must have more, please- and she parted her lips, welcoming his tongue in to play and Sam moaned in response.
A mist clouded his head, dulling his mind, but Sam didn't pay it any attention. The odd, but utterly amazing sensations the daemon caused with her body, her perfect hands and fingers running all over him, made him dizzy - it was too sweet, too damn good, never had he felt anything like it before; how was he supposed to deny this?
The Lamia hummed with satisfied joy, feeling the desire rise quickly in the human - they always tasted better with arousal rushing through their veins. She traced her fingers down the young man's spine, smirking when he instantly thrust his hips against her, desperate for friction, for something.
Sam was nearly begging by now, his whole existense revolving around the daemon and her touch, every cell screaming for it. He wanted to cry out in prostest when her hands disappeared for a second, the look upon his face a silent plea and frustated tears threatened to spill until she wrapped herself around him again. Soon, a thigh sneaked between Sam's legs, causing him to squirm helplessly, almost sobbing because it wasn't close enough and God-fucking-dammit!
The older Winchester witnessed the whole ordeal with his chin slightly dropped, his head trying to comprehend what was happening. His little brother was practically vibrating now, his breath shallow as the Lamia slid a hand under his shirt. Closing his eyes in pleasure, Sam bit his bottom-lip 'till it almost bled before kissing her hair gratefully. It was just as soft as he imagined.
"What the hell, Sam- stop!" Dean finally exclaimed, twisting furiously. "Abort the mission, you fucking idiot!"
He would never interrupt Sam's sexual encounters normally. Quite the opposite, he would gladly try to make it happen, chat a girl up for him and everything - but this, this was just wrong for multiple reasons.
Dean had never wished to watch Sam get laid right in front of him. Ever. Especially not with a daemon that would eat him for dinner afterwards. This was a freakin' Lamia, the kid knew more than enough to realize how dangerous they were, how easily you got trapped if you let them touch you, but he hadn't even tried to fight it off.
"STOP IT!" Dean's raised voice bounced around the room, "Are you even thinking anymore?!"
Well, no. The brain upstairs wasn't really handling the situation right now. It'd already handed the responsibility for Sam's actions to something further south.
Luckily for the tall man, he wasn't completely gone yet. A tiny fragment of his rationality snapped up his brother's yell and relentlessly hauled Sam out from the mist and he blinked, realizing his mistake and recoiled, disgusted;
This isn't the right girl, he thought as his stomach churned in sudden nausea, it isn't even a real girl. A part of Sam didn't want to care about this little detail, but with a shaky breath, he pushed away the daemon with determination. Across the room, Dean let out a small cheer of honest relief and slumped back in his seat. The Lamia hissed in fury, her serpentine teeth visible as she launched at Sam to bite him before he got away.
He dodged to avoid her - including the sharp teeth - and she crashed into the wall behind him with a satisfying bang, and Sam took the chance to run to the silver knife laying on the floor where he'd dropped it. He turned to glare at her, arm raised, prepared to stab that repulsing bitch straight in the heart as soon as she came close enough.
The daemon watched the large human warily as she jumped up from the floor, her eyes never leaving his as they changed colour and there was Jessica again. Sam squared his shoulders, breathing heavily from his nose as he spoke, "Don't you fucking dare, I swear I'll kill you good for that!"
The Lamia quickly stopped, eyes glittering as she held up her hands placatingly, and she started begging, "I'm sorry, but it's just that I need you, need you so bad- that's why I did it."
She took a step forward and Sam - to Dean's chagrin - didn't back away, just stared at her. "I want you, anything, please Sam, I will- I'm gonna explode if you don't.."
The mere tone in her mesmerizing, seductive voice was enough to push the tall man to the edge, just an inch from falling right back into the pit.
Seeing that Sam wasn't protesting but looking unsure, she trailed off. The daemon knew she had him right where she wanted. Reaching out, she drew her fingers over his chest and down his stomach, lightly touching the edge of his jeans and Sam shifted his hips almost imperceptibly in return. Dean glowered at his brother, knowing Sam's resistance started to waver again and he gritted his teeth.
"Listen to me, Sam," Dean called urgently. "She's lying, this isn't real, that bitch doesn't want you - she want your youth. Don't believe her, it's not true, okay?"
Sam already knew that; he understood so damn well what the daemon was doing, that she was luring him to her trap again. His body however refused to give up on his need for her, the lust still pounding on and on and on, longing for her warm embrace and he just.. desperately wanted her. All over him, everywhere; under him and - oh god - on top of him, and-
The younger man swallowed audibly, his gaze momentarily flying to Dean who looked back with such intense anger and a hint of nervous worry, it scared Sam enough to seriously consider stepping away from the Lamia again.
Sensing this, she sent a withering glare Dean's way, deciding to take action before that stupid guy changed his brother's mind once more. "Please, Sam.."
"Are you going to listen to her, a fucking Lamia, or me, your big brother?"
Honestly, Sam didn't know. He was torn between the two, didn't know what to do at all, fighting huge inner battles because this was just so damn hard.
The daemon scowled, then erased the remaining distance between them with a long step, paying no mind to Dean's loud arguements and orders, and she pressed herself onto Sam. He inhaled sharply, those weird but oh-so-very-pleasurable sensations flooding through every part of him again.
"Holy-" he blurted out when her thigh was between his legs again, now so teasingly near where he wanted it to be. Close enough to make a man crazy.
Big brothers be damned. Sam yet again abandoned his only weapon, throwing it away, to place his hands on her neck as she leaned up for another breath-taking kiss. They became intense, almost raw as seconds passed - greedy for more. Their lips came crashing together over and over again, bruising and unyielding, their hands wandering over each other like it was life or death.
Every inch of Sam was tingling and he felt like crawling out of his skin from the strange pleasure, but he needed it to continue forever, blocking out Dean's voice that never seemed to quiet down for a moment. He was confined to her.
The Lamia herself was actually enjoying it too, this little situation between them. The human was delirious of desire, moaning for her and she was happy to oblige. After all, this was what she did for a living.
Both of them were too busy to notice the sudden silence, that Dean's constant yelling had ceased, and that while Sam kept that thing occupied, he was shuffling awkwardly in the chair towards the deserted knife. This could take a while.
The Lamia trailed kisses down Sam's face down to his neck again and left a bruising mark, then she simply couldn't take it anymore - the daemon needed his youth, now.
Her sharp teeth shot out and into his flesh, stunging him, but he didn't seem to mind this at all. Maybe he likes it rough, she mused and started to rub herself against Sam to bring more arousal to life, 'cause it was making him taste so amazingly sweet.
Sam was beyond reason at this point; his eyes closed shut, his jaw set and muscles shaking of exertion. He felt tired as she continued drinking him dry of youth, weaker by the second, but he didn't say anything. Just leaned his head against her shoulder because he.. was oddly heavy. So heavy..
The youngest Winchester slid down the wall, his legs unable to support his weight any longer and the Lamia followed him the whole way, her teeth still buried deep in his neck. He almost fell asleep like that, still holding her.
Then without a warning, she was ripped out of his arms and Sam heard her hiss before a strangled scream escaped her and he looked up in surprise. Trying to blink away the blur, a strong hand suddenly grabbed his shirt and Sam was mercilessly dragged behind the older man, stumbling bad and nearly falling down the stairs because he couldn't hold his balance for that long.
What the hell is happening? Sam was confused. He just wanted to lay down and rest, but instead he was pulled around from one spot to another for some reason, the surroundings changing too fast and it made his head spin and he wanted it to stop.
"Come on, Sammy," Dean urged, worry evident in his voice, "we don't have much time, you gotta hurry up."
"I can't, too tired," came the faint reply, deepening Dean's frown. Who knew how much that Lamia managed to drink from his brother?
Hastily, he stepped behind Sam and began to push him forcefully to get them out faster, careful so the kid wouldn't fall on something as they made their way out of the house.
Dean didn't let him go, not even when they were right next to his precious car. Sam winced when he was basically thrown into the passenger seat, but Dean needed to speed this up and didn't have the time to be gentle and considerate right now.
He flung himself behind the wheel and drove them away as fast as he could, keeping a watchful eye on the half-sleeping boy next to him. Honestly, Dean was terrified, his heart wrenching in concern and his blood pressure was probably way too high to be healthy, but the current state of Sam scared the hell out of him.
When they finally arrived at the motel, Dean got out and rounded the car and bent over in order to look at Sam firmly after he'd opened the door, "Dude, put your arm around my shoulders."
".. Why?"
"You are gonna need the support." There was a sad sigh, then Sam carefully got guided outside and he obediently placed an arm around the blonde man.
Dean was right. He did need the support, his legs were almost buckling beneath him as they nice and slow walked to their room and he mumbled a quiet apology to his brother. "Dean? 'M real sorry."
"Not now."
Sam's heart sank at the stiff tone of the response; it was obvious that he'd screwed up big time. Dammit.
"Okay, Sam. Let's get you some shut-eye."
Dean didn't loosen his grip around his brother until he could put him down safely on one of the beds and Sam did another attempt to talk to him, but was abruptly cut off.
"Lay down," the older Winchester ordered curtly.
His baby brother didn't fight him on this, didn't really have the strength to, which ironically enough troubled Dean. There was something really wrong if Sam just let things go without the heart-to-heart conversation first.
Dean knew he wouldn't sleep that night. He had to watch Sam for any signs of sickness, needed to protect him if things suddenly went south, no matter what. Even if he wished to throttle the kid at the moment.
His brother was fast asleep already, looking so young with his unruly hair pointed in every direction and so completely exhausted, a part of Dean's anger melted away at the sight. He had to take care of Sam first, later they would go from there.
The older man took off Sam's shoes, reaching to buckle up his belt as well when Sam started to stir anxiously, but Dean hushed him softly and pulled off his jeans, throwing them to the floor. Careful not to wake his little brother up further, he inched the blanket laying beneath the large man to freedom and draped it over him.
With a loud sigh, Dean flopped down on the sofa, turning the tv on, but left the volym low so his brother could get some peace and quiet. He tried to concentrate on the programme, but his thoughts drifted off, replaying the day's events in his head.
Dean rubbed his face with a hand, feeling weary and frustrated. He couldn't understand why Sam hadn't listen to him.
"I guess I will found out tomorrow," he mumbled to himself.