Beauty and the Beast 7/?
Title: Beauty and the Beast 7/?
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Warnings: Wee!cest(Sam is 13),incest,language,mentions of extreme underage,rimming,bondage,dub-con,non-con
"Samuel?…Sam?…SAMMY!"
Sam shot straight out of bed at the sound of his brother's voice, all the while scanning the room for any indication that he was still somehow in the dream he'd just arisen from. These nightmares were starting to get intense, each vivid depiction of hellfire becoming more and more prominent with each passing day. His efforts to stay awake at night proved fruitless however, as fatigue and exhaustion inevitably seeped into his skin by the time certain escapades involving an insatiable Dean had come to an end.
Guilt and shame set in as the memory of the previous night flashed before his eyes. The sexual satisfaction he acquired at the hands of his lascivious brother was also starting to become too much for him to handle, each lustful caress the demon bestowed upon him bringing him closer and closer to an ecstasy that, until now, had been previously unknown to him. The self-loathing that followed afterwards was the worst part of it all, the reason for it being that he very much enjoyed the things he did with Dean in the dark; each and every sinful transgression.
Disgusted with the unfortunate turn his thoughts had taken, Sam rubbed his face with his hands and counted to ten before finally addressing the worried glances he kept getting from Dean.
"What?"
"You were moaning in your sleep as if you were in pain. You okay, baby?"
"I'm fine," Sam lied. "I just…I was just having a dream about daddy."
Dean's eyes hardened at the mention of their father, then softened as a thought seemed to dawn on him. Sam closed his eyes to brace himself for the inevitable scolding he was expecting for bringing up you-know-who, only to have his body jerk in surprise when he found himself enveloped in his brother's arms.
"This is all my fault," Dean whimpered miserably. "I'm so sorry, honey. I went overboard that night. I know it now. God, baby I'm so fucking sorry. I love you so fucking much. I don't know what I'd do without you. I…I miss you, Sammy. You've been so distant since that shit happened and it's all because of me. We can get what we had back though, can't we? Tell me we can. Tell me you still love me and that I didn't just fuck up my relationship with my brother."
Traitorous tears trailed down Sam's cheeks before he could stop them, each one a painful reminder of the emotional roller coaster his life had become. Memories of that night cropped up into his brain, giving him mixed feelings about whatever this thing was between him and his brother. He knew this relationship was unhealthy, but the unconditional love he felt for the older boy always ended up winning out in the end, much to his dismay. He would make up his mind to leave, only to have Dean give him a reason to stay and before he knew it, he was right back where he started: up shit creek without a paddle. Today was no exception. He may have allowed Dean access to his body, but that didn't mean he allowed him access to his heart. He had been so angry with him for that night, thinking that this was definitely going to be the end of it all this time. Now here he is, feeling sorry for the boy who'd caused him so much grief. So much for holding grudges…
"I forgive you, De. But you've got to stop treating me like I'm your property. If you want to have a relationship with me then things are going to have to change around here."
Dean stared at Sam with an expression that looked suspiciously like defiance. "What kind of things?"
"You know…like all this sexual stuff. We could just be brothers again. Remember how we were before you disappeared? We were happy, weren't we? I mean, I know we've had our ups and downs, but we got through them. We could get that back again, De. You and I could go back to you being my protector and me being the pain in the ass little brother. Remember that? I miss that…I miss you, Dean. The old you. The one who would tell me bedtime stories and put me to sleep every night. The one who would kiss all my boo boos away and keep me safe. That's what I want. I want you to go back to being the brother you once were. The brother you've always been. Can you do that?"
Sam watched in silence as Dean's face displayed an overwhelming range of emotions at the proposition he'd just put forth, pain and anger being the most evident. Thinking that Dean probably just needed a moment to take all this in, Sam waited patiently for any type of reaction to surface, preferably a favorable one indicating that he was okay with this new arrangement. After what seemed like ages, his brother finally spoke, the tone of his voice creating a chill in the air that could have frozen Rosewood Manor faster than a thousand Siberian winters.
"Is there someone else?"
Oh no. Dean was always temperamental. That was just part of his nature and it was something Sam had always been able to live with. But as soon as possessiveness and jealousy overtook his older brother, he became completely irrational. Sam knew the minute he heard the question that not only was the argument over, but that the result wasn't going to be a good one.
"No Dean," he replied, defeat written all over his face. "There's no one else. I just don't want this kind of physical relationship with you anymore. You're toxic, De. You're toxic and you're no good for me…not like this."
The tortured look that replaced the jealous rage Sam saw in his brother's eyes made his heart constrict painfully in his chest. Wanting to comfort the older boy, he made a move to wrap his arms around him, only to be shoved violently towards the wall without warning, the force of the push causing him to fall to his knees in shock.
"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!"
Sam looked up in horror at this evil thing standing before him, all evidence of what used to be his brother gone from the room. Irises that were once emerald had morphed into the darkest shade of ebony, draining all humanity from Dean's beautiful face and transforming his features into something more sinister. Thin eyebrows furrowed in anger as the full lips Sam once coveted lifted up toward his nose, both movements conveying on the outside what the demon undoubtedly felt on the inside.
Sam cowered in the corner as Dean slowly made his way over to him, the hands he had fisted at his sides turning his knuckles a pale white. "So…you don't want to be with me anymore then, huh? The brother that wasted his time taking care of you when he should have just taken care of himself? The brother that nursed you back to health when you were sick and put your whiny little ass to bed while daddy was off looking for a killer that was more important than his own children? The one who would crawl in bed beside you in the middle of the night when you had your nightmares and hold you while you cried like a little bitch, forgetting the fact that your fucking brother had to go to school the next day? The one who bathed, fed and clothed you when it wasn't even his fucking job? I DID EVERYTHING FOR YOU, SAMMY! EVERY FUCKING THING I DID WAS FOR YOUR BENEFIT, YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE SHIT. I PUT MY ENTIRE LIFE ON HOLD JUST TO CARE FOR A BOY WHO APPARENTLY DOESN'T WANNA FUCKING BE WITH ME ANYMORE!"
Sam looked on as Dean's anger reached its peak, the objects he hurled across the room thrown with such force that they all shattered as they hit the wall, the sight resembling the fragmented pieces of Sam's broken heart. Seeing the anguish present on Dean's face forced tears to fall from the younger boy's eyes, the knowledge that he'd been the one to put that look there too much for him to take.
When the last of the room's contents had been overturned, Dean all but ran to Sam's side and dragged him up by his arm, pulling him out of the room and taking him to origins unknown. "Dean?! Dean, let me go! Dean, stop!"
"You're not fucking going anywhere, Samuel. I'll make sure of that," Dean replied angrily, forcing Sam down a set of stairs that led to what appeared to be a dungeon. The acrid stench of mold hit Sam's nostrils with a vengeance, causing his unoccupied hand to involuntarily cover his nose as a means to block the unpleasant smell. Upon reaching the last door to the left, Dean forced it open and threw Sam inside. The sound of the deadbolt had the younger boy pounding on the door in despair.
"Dean!" he screamed, tears soaking the front of his lumpy black sweater. "Dean, why are you doing this? Please open the door. Please!"
"You are going to learn how to fucking behave, Samuel!" Dean yelled from the other end, the pain in his cracked voice giving Sam the impression that he was crying. "I've just about had it with your insolence. You don't wanna be with me? Fine! But that doesn't mean I'm gonna let you leave. I'd rather die than live without you, Sammy. I'll kill anyone that tries to take you away from me. I killed that little friend of yours and I'll kill anyone in this house that goes anywhere near you. Now you are going to stay in there until you can learn to respect me. And don't you ever let me hear you speak to me like that ever again. You're mine, Sammy. Fucking mine! I'll never let you go. Ever!"
The sound of Dean's receding footsteps echoed through the dungeon, growing more and more distant before finally ceasing altogether, leaving behind a silence that Sam found torturous. Turning around reluctantly, he took in the surroundings of his new prison, hoping to find an imperfection within the foundation of its walls that would enable him to escape this wretched place that his demonic brother called home. The entire room was made of cobblestone, with nothing but an old wooden bench for furniture. The Latin inscriptions that covered the large blocks of stone overlapped, making Sam unable to read the words. There was a tiny window at the very top to his left, but any hope of escaping through the hole it provided was shattered as Sam noticed the bars that blocked his view. Realizing that he was trapped, Sam sat on the bench and put his head in his hands, feeling drained and defeated.
Every single attempt he'd made at denying what he thought was wrong had backfired on him. The incestuous thoughts he'd tried so hard to keep under wraps should have instead been allowed to come to the surface. If he had just given in to what he wanted so badly then none of this would have happened. Instead, he constantly fought against the dark impulses that constantly clouded his brain, all of those fantasies he had of his brother coming back to mock him with its existence by playing over and over in his head and making him relive every false memory ten times over. All he wanted was Dean, and yet he continually denied himself the pleasure of his brother's flesh. He did what he thought was right and this so-called heaven he's heard so much about couldn't do a damn thing in return for his efforts to please their god; his god. Maybe hell was a better master after all…
Sam's head shot straight up as the memory of what Dean had said came bubbling to the surface of his consciousness. Aimee was dead. Dean had killed her and it was all his fault. He knew what was going to happen and yet he let his own desires get in the way. So it really doesn't matter whether I give into them or not, Sam thought to himself. I'm damned either way.
Anger suddenly boiled through Sam's blood at what Dean had done to his one and only friend. He would find a way to make his brother pay for his transgressions. All he had to do was pretend to be a good boy long enough to catch the demon off guard and when the right time came, he would do the only thing he could think of to end this miserable nightmare in which he found himself, compliments of his wretched brother.
Sam was going to kill Dean Winchester.
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Warnings: Wee!cest(Sam is 13),incest,language,mentions of extreme underage,rimming,bondage,dub-con,non-con
"Samuel?…Sam?…SAMMY!"
Sam shot straight out of bed at the sound of his brother's voice, all the while scanning the room for any indication that he was still somehow in the dream he'd just arisen from. These nightmares were starting to get intense, each vivid depiction of hellfire becoming more and more prominent with each passing day. His efforts to stay awake at night proved fruitless however, as fatigue and exhaustion inevitably seeped into his skin by the time certain escapades involving an insatiable Dean had come to an end.
Guilt and shame set in as the memory of the previous night flashed before his eyes. The sexual satisfaction he acquired at the hands of his lascivious brother was also starting to become too much for him to handle, each lustful caress the demon bestowed upon him bringing him closer and closer to an ecstasy that, until now, had been previously unknown to him. The self-loathing that followed afterwards was the worst part of it all, the reason for it being that he very much enjoyed the things he did with Dean in the dark; each and every sinful transgression.
Disgusted with the unfortunate turn his thoughts had taken, Sam rubbed his face with his hands and counted to ten before finally addressing the worried glances he kept getting from Dean.
"What?"
"You were moaning in your sleep as if you were in pain. You okay, baby?"
"I'm fine," Sam lied. "I just…I was just having a dream about daddy."
Dean's eyes hardened at the mention of their father, then softened as a thought seemed to dawn on him. Sam closed his eyes to brace himself for the inevitable scolding he was expecting for bringing up you-know-who, only to have his body jerk in surprise when he found himself enveloped in his brother's arms.
"This is all my fault," Dean whimpered miserably. "I'm so sorry, honey. I went overboard that night. I know it now. God, baby I'm so fucking sorry. I love you so fucking much. I don't know what I'd do without you. I…I miss you, Sammy. You've been so distant since that shit happened and it's all because of me. We can get what we had back though, can't we? Tell me we can. Tell me you still love me and that I didn't just fuck up my relationship with my brother."
Traitorous tears trailed down Sam's cheeks before he could stop them, each one a painful reminder of the emotional roller coaster his life had become. Memories of that night cropped up into his brain, giving him mixed feelings about whatever this thing was between him and his brother. He knew this relationship was unhealthy, but the unconditional love he felt for the older boy always ended up winning out in the end, much to his dismay. He would make up his mind to leave, only to have Dean give him a reason to stay and before he knew it, he was right back where he started: up shit creek without a paddle. Today was no exception. He may have allowed Dean access to his body, but that didn't mean he allowed him access to his heart. He had been so angry with him for that night, thinking that this was definitely going to be the end of it all this time. Now here he is, feeling sorry for the boy who'd caused him so much grief. So much for holding grudges…
"I forgive you, De. But you've got to stop treating me like I'm your property. If you want to have a relationship with me then things are going to have to change around here."
Dean stared at Sam with an expression that looked suspiciously like defiance. "What kind of things?"
"You know…like all this sexual stuff. We could just be brothers again. Remember how we were before you disappeared? We were happy, weren't we? I mean, I know we've had our ups and downs, but we got through them. We could get that back again, De. You and I could go back to you being my protector and me being the pain in the ass little brother. Remember that? I miss that…I miss you, Dean. The old you. The one who would tell me bedtime stories and put me to sleep every night. The one who would kiss all my boo boos away and keep me safe. That's what I want. I want you to go back to being the brother you once were. The brother you've always been. Can you do that?"
Sam watched in silence as Dean's face displayed an overwhelming range of emotions at the proposition he'd just put forth, pain and anger being the most evident. Thinking that Dean probably just needed a moment to take all this in, Sam waited patiently for any type of reaction to surface, preferably a favorable one indicating that he was okay with this new arrangement. After what seemed like ages, his brother finally spoke, the tone of his voice creating a chill in the air that could have frozen Rosewood Manor faster than a thousand Siberian winters.
"Is there someone else?"
Oh no. Dean was always temperamental. That was just part of his nature and it was something Sam had always been able to live with. But as soon as possessiveness and jealousy overtook his older brother, he became completely irrational. Sam knew the minute he heard the question that not only was the argument over, but that the result wasn't going to be a good one.
"No Dean," he replied, defeat written all over his face. "There's no one else. I just don't want this kind of physical relationship with you anymore. You're toxic, De. You're toxic and you're no good for me…not like this."
The tortured look that replaced the jealous rage Sam saw in his brother's eyes made his heart constrict painfully in his chest. Wanting to comfort the older boy, he made a move to wrap his arms around him, only to be shoved violently towards the wall without warning, the force of the push causing him to fall to his knees in shock.
"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!"
Sam looked up in horror at this evil thing standing before him, all evidence of what used to be his brother gone from the room. Irises that were once emerald had morphed into the darkest shade of ebony, draining all humanity from Dean's beautiful face and transforming his features into something more sinister. Thin eyebrows furrowed in anger as the full lips Sam once coveted lifted up toward his nose, both movements conveying on the outside what the demon undoubtedly felt on the inside.
Sam cowered in the corner as Dean slowly made his way over to him, the hands he had fisted at his sides turning his knuckles a pale white. "So…you don't want to be with me anymore then, huh? The brother that wasted his time taking care of you when he should have just taken care of himself? The brother that nursed you back to health when you were sick and put your whiny little ass to bed while daddy was off looking for a killer that was more important than his own children? The one who would crawl in bed beside you in the middle of the night when you had your nightmares and hold you while you cried like a little bitch, forgetting the fact that your fucking brother had to go to school the next day? The one who bathed, fed and clothed you when it wasn't even his fucking job? I DID EVERYTHING FOR YOU, SAMMY! EVERY FUCKING THING I DID WAS FOR YOUR BENEFIT, YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE SHIT. I PUT MY ENTIRE LIFE ON HOLD JUST TO CARE FOR A BOY WHO APPARENTLY DOESN'T WANNA FUCKING BE WITH ME ANYMORE!"
Sam looked on as Dean's anger reached its peak, the objects he hurled across the room thrown with such force that they all shattered as they hit the wall, the sight resembling the fragmented pieces of Sam's broken heart. Seeing the anguish present on Dean's face forced tears to fall from the younger boy's eyes, the knowledge that he'd been the one to put that look there too much for him to take.
When the last of the room's contents had been overturned, Dean all but ran to Sam's side and dragged him up by his arm, pulling him out of the room and taking him to origins unknown. "Dean?! Dean, let me go! Dean, stop!"
"You're not fucking going anywhere, Samuel. I'll make sure of that," Dean replied angrily, forcing Sam down a set of stairs that led to what appeared to be a dungeon. The acrid stench of mold hit Sam's nostrils with a vengeance, causing his unoccupied hand to involuntarily cover his nose as a means to block the unpleasant smell. Upon reaching the last door to the left, Dean forced it open and threw Sam inside. The sound of the deadbolt had the younger boy pounding on the door in despair.
"Dean!" he screamed, tears soaking the front of his lumpy black sweater. "Dean, why are you doing this? Please open the door. Please!"
"You are going to learn how to fucking behave, Samuel!" Dean yelled from the other end, the pain in his cracked voice giving Sam the impression that he was crying. "I've just about had it with your insolence. You don't wanna be with me? Fine! But that doesn't mean I'm gonna let you leave. I'd rather die than live without you, Sammy. I'll kill anyone that tries to take you away from me. I killed that little friend of yours and I'll kill anyone in this house that goes anywhere near you. Now you are going to stay in there until you can learn to respect me. And don't you ever let me hear you speak to me like that ever again. You're mine, Sammy. Fucking mine! I'll never let you go. Ever!"
The sound of Dean's receding footsteps echoed through the dungeon, growing more and more distant before finally ceasing altogether, leaving behind a silence that Sam found torturous. Turning around reluctantly, he took in the surroundings of his new prison, hoping to find an imperfection within the foundation of its walls that would enable him to escape this wretched place that his demonic brother called home. The entire room was made of cobblestone, with nothing but an old wooden bench for furniture. The Latin inscriptions that covered the large blocks of stone overlapped, making Sam unable to read the words. There was a tiny window at the very top to his left, but any hope of escaping through the hole it provided was shattered as Sam noticed the bars that blocked his view. Realizing that he was trapped, Sam sat on the bench and put his head in his hands, feeling drained and defeated.
Every single attempt he'd made at denying what he thought was wrong had backfired on him. The incestuous thoughts he'd tried so hard to keep under wraps should have instead been allowed to come to the surface. If he had just given in to what he wanted so badly then none of this would have happened. Instead, he constantly fought against the dark impulses that constantly clouded his brain, all of those fantasies he had of his brother coming back to mock him with its existence by playing over and over in his head and making him relive every false memory ten times over. All he wanted was Dean, and yet he continually denied himself the pleasure of his brother's flesh. He did what he thought was right and this so-called heaven he's heard so much about couldn't do a damn thing in return for his efforts to please their god; his god. Maybe hell was a better master after all…
Sam's head shot straight up as the memory of what Dean had said came bubbling to the surface of his consciousness. Aimee was dead. Dean had killed her and it was all his fault. He knew what was going to happen and yet he let his own desires get in the way. So it really doesn't matter whether I give into them or not, Sam thought to himself. I'm damned either way.
Anger suddenly boiled through Sam's blood at what Dean had done to his one and only friend. He would find a way to make his brother pay for his transgressions. All he had to do was pretend to be a good boy long enough to catch the demon off guard and when the right time came, he would do the only thing he could think of to end this miserable nightmare in which he found himself, compliments of his wretched brother.
Sam was going to kill Dean Winchester.