#psychic Sam

[emmetton]

An Angel without Wings

Who is this God? This one who causes war? Over his religions? Will those spirits soar? Those men who fought for their beliefs, will endless battles see relief?

[fablesam]

picture you ;; sam winchester (part two)

cw;; smut!!!! bloodplay, biting, demon blood, violence, angst, dark!!! sam

a mere week after your first meeting, you and sam had learned each other in and out. you’d, more importantly, learned the solution to your overarching question. the two of you had worked tirelessly to find the truth about your abilities, if your theory was correct about demon blood increasing your power. 

you could see sam starting to slightly spiral, hardly sleeping, his desperation growing with each step you took in the right direction. he’d told dean he met someone, and that he wanted some space, a chance to ‘do his own thing’ for a while. this was, judging by dean’s reaction, incredibly out of character for him, but you didn’t argue. it was what you’d always wanted, the two of you alone in your apartment, totally invested in each other. 

you were sat on the edge of your bed, brushing your hair after a shower when sam entered your room, a borderline manic excitement in his eyes. “i figured it out,” he told you, pacing as he read from his journal. “we can summon a demon here, trap it in a devil’s circle. then we can extract some of its blood, store it to drink from, and send it back to hell. it’s the safest way, it’ll make sure you don’t get hurt,” 

you felt a pang of  sadness that he wasn’t even worried about himself getting hurt, but it was overshadowed by the happiness you felt that he’d considered you in his plan. “summoning a demon seems a bit extreme,” you said after a moments contemplation, “are you sure about this, sam? i don’t want to do anything we can’t take back,” 

he came to your side, dropping the journal beside you, taking both your hands in his and looking down at you. “this is what you wanted,” he said pleadingly, “don’t you want to see what we’re capable of? let me show you,” he pressed a brief, searing kiss to your knuckles, his eyes never leaving yours, “we could be so much more, just like you said. you showed me the truth, so let me show you the way,” 

you nodded, lost in the trance of his soft brown eyes, swept up in the feeling of his hands on yours. he could’ve told you to do anything in that moment, and you were sure you would’ve. you were, not for the first time, grateful that sam was so good at his core. if he’d wanted to, you feared he could’ve had anyone submit to him, had anyone do his bidding. but if you knew sam, and you definitely did, he would never. 

he was all the goodness in the world, wrapped up in your own personal daydream. sometimes, it seemed impossible that such a shining example of purity had demon blood running through his veins, the same as you. he always had your best interest at heart, always worried what the consequences of this journey would come to, always thought about how this might affect dean. it only made you love him even more. 

“we’ll do it tomorrow,” he told you, sure as anything, “is that alright? are you ready?” you pulled him down to you, so you could rest your head on his chest from your seat on the bed, breathing in the scent of him. it never got old, the smell of chai and cedar and rain. “i’m ready,” you mumbled into his shirt, eyes closing as he stroked the back of your hair lightly, a contentedness you’d never known flowing through you, “are you scared?”

you didn’t have to look up to no he shook his head, “no, i’m not scared,” he murmured, “i guess i’m just curious. it feels wrong, still, but i know i’ve just been conditioned to feel that way. we shouldn’t be ashamed of anything,” “that’s right,” you hummed, “should we get some sleep?” 

he nodded, untangling from you, kissing the top of your head gently before going to the couch, where he’d insisted on sleeping the entire week. he’d been so adamant about not moving too fast, not taking advantage of you. it had only solidified your belief that sam was, inherently, better than you. you watched him go, tucking yourself under the blankets, ignoring the worry forming in your stomach. 

when you woke in the morning, sam was already well at work, clambering around your living room holding objects you’d never even seen before. “sam?” you yawned quietly, “what’re you doing? what is all this?” he turned to face you, as if he’d been caught, “just some things for the summoning. i have it all ready, i think, i just have to arrange everything,” 

you paused to actually look around, noting the taper candles lit on your floor, the encircled star scribbled onto your ceiling. “what is that?” you asked, unable to tear your eyes from it. “devils trap,” he said like it was the most natural thing in the world, “i’ll have to say an incantation to summon it, and we need to get it under that circle, okay? i just need you to stay back, i’ll take care of everything,” 

you forced yourself away from the setup, nodding, “and you’re sure about all this?” you asked hesitantly, “i mean, really sure?” he smiled slightly, nodding, “i’m positive. you know i wouldn’t do anything dangerous, right?” “of course, sam,” and you really did know that. you trusted him more than you trusted even yourself, for in some ways, he was more yourself than you were. 

he pulled you into a hug, his chin resting against your head, his arms circling you. “everything’s gonna be fine,” he said softly, “can you go in your bedroom for me? don’t want you to have to see this,” you pulled back just enough to look up at him, pupils dilated from his closeness, “wanna help you,” you said surely, “this isn’t your task, sam. it’s ours,” 

so you watched as sam paced the room, journal in hand as it had been the night prior, the candlelight making him look more angelic than usual. he’d cut a small incision on his wrist, letting the blood drip out into a copper bowl, placing it in the middle of the circle before he started reading. 

the energy in the room was palpable, an uneasiness spread through your apartment that you hoped would clear up soon, when all this was done. “daemon, esto subjecto voluntati meae!” he finished, and with that, the candles were out, an eerie stillness in the room. you looked to sam, eyes wide, when you saw it out of the corner of your eye. 

not so much an it as it was a fully fledged man, looking as human as you or sam, adding to your already heightening sickness. “sam winchester,” the thing said, “if you wanted me here, all you had to do was ask,” the voice was so painfully real, so clear, so human, your bones ached with the chill that came over you.

sam’s jaw tensed, and he took a step closer to it, so precise and calculated you didn’t even notice as he succeeded in his plan, backing it under the devil’s trap. “finally giving in?” it sneered, “gonna come home, sammy?” his eye twitched at this, and you thought for a moment his focus might break, but it only seemed to get more intense. 

“don’t call me that,” he snapped slightly, hands trembling, “i need you for one thing, and that’s it. then i’m sending you back where you belong,” “oh, i’m cowering in fear,” the demon said sarcastically, turning to take a step towards sam, but seemingly stopped by an invisible force. he looked up, irritation clear on his face as he discovered the trap, his jaw nearly as tense as sam’s. “so what’s your angle here, boy?” he asked, one eyebrow raised, “gonna kill me, hm?” 

“not gonna kill you,” sam took a step closer, the knife in his hand catching the light streaming through your window, “just hurt you,” you couldn’t tear your eyes away as he slashed the thing’s wrist, an animalistic howl leaving it’s mouth. sam looked to you, and without any words passed between you, you knew he needed the bowl. you hurried to his side, handing him the copper bowl he’d used to summon the demon, watching, entranced, as he let the thing’s wound trickle into it. your pulse increased with every drip-drop of the thick blood, your mouth watering in a way that almost horrified you. 

you had to resist the urge to surge forward, to take what your body so clearly craved, more concerned with obeying sam’s request than you were with drinking from the source. when the bowl was filled, you watched with a distant fascination as sam read more from his beat up journal, and the only evidence that the demon had ever been there was the ichor on sam’s hands. 

“are you alright?” were the first words that left his mouth, as if he hadn’t just summoned and dispelled a demon right in your living room, as if this was all completely normal. “i’m fine,” you nodded, eyes still focused on the bowl of blood in his right hand, “are you alright?” a small smile crossed his lips, and he nodded, “i’m fine, sweet girl,” he led you back a few steps, free hand on your lower back as he guided you to sit on your couch. 

you sat down, looking up at him with expectant eyes, “do we drink now?” he reached down, his left hand resting on your cheek lightly, cradling your face, “you’re so desperate, aren’t you? so brave,” he hummed, his thumb ghosting over your bottom lip, “open your mouth, alright? if you start to feel anything that scares you, you tell me. can you do that?” 

you nodded, feeling almost dizzy as he instructed you, anticipation making you giddy and electric, “i can do that,” you said softly. “that’s my girl,” he smiled softly, hand shifting to your jaw as he brought the bowl to your mouth, resting it between your lips. you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath before opening your mouth, letting the blood trickle onto your tongue. 

the very second it hit your bloodstream, you were on fire. a soft sound, almost a moan, left your throat as you opened your eyes, enjoying drinking in the sight of sam watching you almost as much as you were drinking the blood. “is it good?” he murmured, looking as blissful as you felt, “do you feel good, sweet girl?” you just nodded, too drunk on the venom to respond, and a whine of protest left you as he pulled the bowl away slowly, as if he was tapering you off of it. 

“sam,” you panted softly, “god, it feels-” you stopped, unable to even describe it, to even do it justice. it felt like you had been in a coffin for a decade, like you were finally free, like someone brought you back to life after years. it felt like heaven and hell had collided inside you, like you were a vessel to something far greater, like everything you’d ever gone through had led you do this very moment. you watched as sam drank from the bowl, his throat bobbing as he swallowed, a groan muffled by the liquid. he was messier than you had been, scarlet drops down his throat, and when he pulled the bowl away, you nearly whimpered at the way it shined on his lips, the pink skin tined a deep red.

 you thought he’d never been more beautiful than when he smiled down at you, his teeth tinted pink. “oh,” the sound was almost too much for you to bear, the breathless whine that left his throat, “this is everything,” “sam,” you whispered, afraid if you spoke fully, you might cry from the intensity, “it’s so much,” 

“oh, i know,” he murmured, his hand returning to your jaw, the other tracing through your hair gently. you were slightly startled by how much better he seemed to be handling it, but you were entirely too far gone to worry over the implications, “you’re gonna be just fine, baby. this is how we’re meant to feel,” 

before you had time to question it, or too even think twice about his statement, he was pulling you up, his lips on yours in an instant. you kissed him back with a fever, your hands coming to wrap around his shoulders, all six foot four of him being pulled even closer to you. he turned, never pulling his mouth from yours as he sank into the couch cushions, pulling you into his lap like you weighed nothing. 

your entire body was alert, your back arched into his touch, his hands trailing over every inch of your skin. “you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled as he pulled away, trailing kisses down your jawline, biting gently at the delicate skin of your throat, “so fucking perfect,”

you knew logically this couldn’t be heaven as you tilted your head to give him more access, blinking up at the devils trap still on your ceiling, but it didn’t make you believe it any less. nothing between you was holy, you knew that. this was something else entirely, each kiss and mumbled curse awakening some sort of ancient, dangerous power inside you. you could swear you felt the earth shift as he rolled you over, laying you back on the couch, kissing down your chest like a man possessed. 

your hands were in his hair, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you looked down at him with heavy lids and glossy eyes, “want you so badly, sam,” you murmured, “come kiss me again,” he smiled up at you, looking deceivingly soft for just a moment, reminding you of the first few visions, “i’ll come kiss you again, you impatient girl,” he scolded, a soft tease in his voice, “just busy right now,” 

he pulled your pants with him the lower his kisses trailed, the cool air of the room raising goosebumps along your hips and thighs, “you want me here?” he hummed, pressing his fingertips to the now soaked cotton of your underwear. you nodded almost frantically, too worked up to be embarrassed by your neediness. he smiled against the skin of your thighs as he pulled the material off of you, tossing them into the floor without a second glance. 

no, neither of you were holy, but you could’ve died and gone to heaven or hell with sam’s mouth on you, wasting no time before he was lapping you up just as he had the blood. he groaned against you, his hands digging into your thighs hard enough to leave bruises. 

“sam,” you moaned, back arching off the cushions, your hands pulling at his hair desperately. you weren’t even sure what you were begging for, too far gone from the feeling of him paired with the newfound power coursing through your veins. he pulled away just long enough to readjust his arms, continuing to lap at your clit as he sank two fingers inside of you, curling them just where you needed him. “oh, god, sam,” you whimpered, your nails scratching at his scalp. he pulled back, gazing up at you with your wetness coating his lips, “god’s not here, baby,” he tsked, “it’s just me and you,” 

your eyes rolled back when he took your clit into his mouth, sucking and licking a long stripe against you. the feeling of his fingers stretching you out and his devilishly skilled tongue was enough to have you coming undone, his name falling from your lips like some desolate prayer as you rocked your hips against his face, all but grinding on him as you rode out your high. 

he pulled his fingers out slowly, holding eye contact from between your thighs as he took them into his mouth, taking his time sucking them clean. you could’ve come again from the mere sight of it, from the idea of him savoring the taste. he crawled back up to you, kissing you hard enough to make you dizzy for a moment, the lingering taste of the blood combined with the taste of you making you moan into his mouth. 

he reached between you, pushing down his jeans and boxers with one hand, the other holding him up as he kissed you. “you want me to fuck you like this?” he murmured as he kissed your cheek, such a soft movement in the frenzy of need, “or you wanna ride me, hm?” 

the desire to see his face, to watch him underneath you as he came, had you pushing his chest gently, pushing him back to sit down. he grinned up at you, his eyes hazy, hands settling onto your hips as you moved to straddle him. you reached between you, taking him in your hand, barely able to wrap your fingers around the width of him as you pumped him slowly. 

his eyebrows knit in pleasure, his head tipping back onto the back of the sofa, his breaths growing heavier. seeing him like this, coming unraveled from your touch, made whatever sickness you both had so incredibly worth it. you rested one hand on his chest as you slid down onto his thick cock, kissing him to hold in your gasp at how much he stretched you. 

he bit your bottom lip as he kissed you, his nails digging into the flesh of your hips as he bucked his hips into you, moaning into your open mouth. he licked the blood from your lip, sucking it into his mouth, holding you there as he fucked up into you. you were a mess above him, your head thrown back as you rode him, grinding your hips down for some friction. 

“you feel so fucking good,” he moaned hoarsely, pulling your head down to his neck, wrapping an arm around you to hold you, “like you were fuckin’ made for me, baby,” “i was,” you pant against his skin, sucking little marks down his neck, “yours, sam,” 

“i know you’re mine,” he mumbled, thrusting into your harder, pulling your hair just hard enough to make you look at him as he fucked you stupid. his lips found their way to your neck, biting gently, and you whined softly as he broke skin just slightly, enough to send a tinge of pain to the surface.

“got that demon’s blood pumping through these veins,” he placed another soft bite just above your shoulder, “bet i’d get stronger drinkin’ from you, baby. you think so?” you just nodded, too far gone to process his words as your hips rolled against his, gasping as he reached an even deeper spot inside you, “you wanna make me stronger, don’t you?” he hummed. 

“yes!” you moaned, clenching around him, “yes, sam, fuck,” he smiled against you, thrusting into you harder, his movements slowing. he gave you no warning as he sank his teeth into your shoulder, a sharp gasp leaving your lips at the feeling. “fuck,” he groaned into the bite, his tongue laving at the blood trickling out, “you taste so good, sweet girl,” 

you could feel yourself getting dizzier as he pulled the blood from you, your entire body buzzing with alarm. “sam,” you whimpered, your hips slowing against his, “too much,” he pulled away, despite the frenzied look in his eye, pressing a gentle kiss to the area around his bite mark. “blood tastes almost as good as that pussy,” he mumbled as he pulled you into a kiss, his hand on the back of your neck as he quickened his movements. 

your thighs were trembling, vision swimming as you came undone a second time, nearly screaming as he fucked you through it. “good fuckin’ girl,” he panted, digging his hands into your thighs, “so close, baby,” you rested your head on his shoulder, bouncing your hips just enough to get him to the edge, looking up only to watch his expression as he filled you. “oh, fuck,” he groaned, his brows pinched, cheeks pink and mouth tipped open, his thrusts slowing. you kissed him as he stilled inside you, tracing your fingertips down his arm, anything to keep touching him as much as possible. 

he pet your hair gently, fingers running through the length of it, tenderness lacing his every moment. “is your shoulder alright?” he asked softly, trailing his free hand over the skin. “mhm,” you nodded, still catching your breath, “i’m fine, sam. was so good,” “yeah?” he smiled slightly, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, pulling you into his chest, “get some sleep, baby. you look like you’re about to crash,” 

you just hummed quietly in response, nuzzling your face into his neck. the events of the day replayed in your fizzled brain, skin still tingling with the effects of the blood, your body aching. sam continued to stroke your hair soothingly, his other hand tracing down your spine almost absentmindedly. “gonna keep you here with me forever,” he said softly, almost too quiet for you to hear, “we’re gonna be so fucking strong, baby. you have no idea,” 

you let sleep take you before you could question the tone in his voice, the darkness creeping into his tone. after all, you were the one who put it there.

[samdeancrimespree]

idea i just had: psychic sam (or witch sam) accidentally projecting his feelings & dreams to dean. accidentally sharing his brotherkissing wet dreams, and it pushing them apart because dean feels like a piece of shit for dreaming about sam and Liking it, and sam thinks he musta made noise or something in his sleep, and now dean thinks he’s a freak

[nuturalsuper]

some psychic sammy to celebrate christmas and all

for: @monkibizznes <3

[woundlingus]

I love that early psychic Sam using his power for dumb shit art, Sam should’ve slept in every morning for a week straight getting progressively madder that his alarm clock isnt working but he’s psychically turning it off half asleep when it buzzes, like instinct and doesn’t even know he’s doing it until Dean catches him roll over in the morning and his alarm clock fritzes and turns itself off while Sam starts snoring again lol

[jackklinemybeloved]

sam actually only gets his demon blood powers when hes on his period

incredible answer. very carrie of him.

[hearse-full-of-rats]

OH MY GOD IVE BEEN SAYING THIS CONSTANTLY SINCE I STARTED REWATCHING IT

i miss the grainy over exposed bright camera quality and the dramatic side effects

i miss it so much

s1 is just. i love you grainy unfocused shots of cemeteries and foggy roads no one travels. i love you john’s journal as a bible. i love you sam driving the impala casually with dean sleeping in the passenger seat. i love you dark motels with neon signs and dusty libraries with huge lore books. i love you side character serving as a mirror to the winchesters. i love you cleaning guns and wounds and sharpening of knives and gas stations and flip phones and laptop stickers. i love you small towns where time stands still with something unknowable and hungry lurking in the shadows. i love you angry psychic kid sam and dean trying his best with a leather jacket too big for him. i love you looming presences of john and mary. i love you homemade and flawed equipment. i love you horror and tragedy and blood. i love you dramatic lighting and silhouettes. i love you folklore and local legends. i love you -

[normalbrothershow]

dean when he saw sam exorcising/killing demons with his powers

image cred fallenchungus

[twobrothers]

azazel’s special children should’ve unionized

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Hi, I was the one who asked if you still write. For supernatural, I was wondering if you could write early season sam ( season 1-2) smut with sam going down on the reader and riding ( you don't got to if you don't want to I was just wanting some more early season sam smut)

༉‧₊˚. 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞? || 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

― pairing: sam winchester x plus size lawyer!reader

― summary: sam calls you to bail dean and him out, but you have to let him know that your services come with a price.

― warnings: another pwp!! there's a little plot in the beginning but not really, referenced past sexual tension, mentions of past drunk driving (don't do this), cigarettes, alcohol, but no one's drunk, a lot of banter, dry witted reader, kissing, stripping, oral sex (f rec.), come swallowing, pocket condoms (be smart), switch r and sam, no one's really in charge, riding, protected sex, dirty talk, hints at sam having a praise kink, i don't make the rules, a lot of consent because that's key!! and a cute ending to once again, tie this up into a nice little bow!

― wc: 2941

⋆ a/n: okay these word counts keep getting crazier and crazier, but it's been so long since i've written for any of my supernatural boys so i let myself get carried away!! i really wanted to capture how sassy early seasons sam was, and so i paired him up with a no nonsense, badass lawyer!

masterlist | AO3

“We really have to stop meeting like this.” You remark as you enter the interviewing room that Sam was being held in at a police station.

“You know I wouldn’t have called you here if I had another option.” You wave off his apology, sitting down across from him and placing your briefcase on the table. “It’s fine, but I want to talk about these charges.”

You grab out his file and lick your finger before flicking through it. “It says here you’re being charged with breaking and entering as well as trespassing. You’re lucky it’s only these.” You chide and look up at him from over the paper. 

You and Sam have… history. It’s a bit blurry how your allyship came to be, but you’re the only one that knows of the creatures that lurk in the dark, the ones that Sam and Dean fight so vehemently against to keep unknowing bystanders safe. It’s chivalrous and really fucking reckless.

“It’s a good thing I got the best lawyer around then, huh?” He says with a smile. You raise a brow at his brazen suck up. “Yeah, yeah, keep your sweet talking to yourself, Winchester, and I’ll see what I can do, yeah?” Sam laughs but nonetheless does a lip zipping motion. 

“Fuck I need a drink.” Dean cruses as he pushes the doors to the police station open. He holds it open for you and Sam to exit.

“I’m not gonna get your ass back out if you get a DUI.” You snip without any heat behind it. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart. I drive the best when I’m drunk.” You roll your eyes, “Wow, that sure does make me feel better.” You turn your head to the six-foot tall man next to him. “Keep an eye on him for me, will you?”

“Wait, you’re not staying?” Sam asks with furrowed brows. “No? Why would I?”

“Because drove all the way out here to bum fuck nowhere to help us out. The least you can do is let me treat you to a beer or something.”

You stare at Sam for a moment and weigh your options: while staying does sound very, very tempting, you know the WInchester’s aren’t any good, and being around them is like signing a death sentence. On the other hand… it was rare that you ever really got to see them, and they were old friends. They’ve gotten you out of a pickle once or twice.

“Sure.” You finally reply with a shrug, and Sam lights up. 

“Well hop in, sweets, I’m driving.” Dean whistles before ducking into the driver's seat. “Not for long!” You yell back. “After you,” Sam gestures to the backdoor that he has now opened. “What a gentleman.” You say dryly.

“Why of course.”

Drinks are uneventful to say the least.

Your body has a nice buzz going, the bar stuffy and alive with chatter and the sound of pool balls hitting each other. You light up a cigarette from the box saved for rare events such as this.

“Didn’t know you were a smoker.” Sam says and gestures to the thing hanging between your lips. You just shrug, lighting the thing up before pulling a long drag of it. The burn is nice and familiar, and the relief is comfortable when it leaves your lungs.

“Something else will kill me eventually. Don’t worry though, I don’t do it often. Consider this me… celebrating saving your ass.” 

It was just you and Sam at the table, Dean having bounced off somewhere to talk to a busty chick he had spotted at the bar. You just shook your head at his salute stating, “That’ll get old eventually.”

“So, what were you guys investigating anyway? Normal people don’t go jumping over barbed fences to abandoned power plants.” 

It was Sam’s turn to shrug, a nail picking at the now damp bear label melting off the glass.

“Heard there were a few blood suckers running around town, and the plant was their nest, but someone,” His eyes flicker over to where Dean is standing, blissfully unaware of the glare being sent his way, “Had to holler like a kicked puppy and fly over the fence while trying to climb over it.”

That manages to pull a deep laugh from you, the image of the big bad, emotionally constipated elder Winchester brother screaming in terror.

“Alright, I admit that I could excuse that.”

“But?” Sam asks slyly. 

Ah, there it was, the challenge and tension that always manages to find itself bubbling between the two of you whenever you’re together. 

“But, you know my services don’t come for free, pretty boy.” Your eyes flicker up to his, dark and hungry as you take another inhale of the quickly burning filter. 

His gazes follow your movements before returning back to yours. “You want a pick of all the fraudulent credit cards we have?”

“Nah,” You begin, snubbing the thing in the ashtray in the middle of the table. “Wouldn’t look good on my record. Plus, I have something different in mind than money.” 

You’d never toed the line this closely before, but you were warm and had a nice nice mix of nicotine and liquor buzz flowing through your body, so your apologies if you’re a little loose lipped.

“Oh? And what would that be?” He leans forward on crossed arms, large brown irises burning into yours; playful and mischievous. You could see right through his angelic little brother facade, and you smirked. 

“Why don’t you find out?”

The hotel really wasn’t that far of a walk, and when you got inside, Sam was on you, pressing you back into the door and tugging off your blazer.

Your lips were connected into a heated kiss, your own hands found themselves shucking off his brown coat. He was forced to stop touching you so he could take it all the way off and you did the same, left in your white button up and him in a t-shirt. 

You met in the middle, walking backwards until the back of his thighs met one of the beds and he sat down. You didn’t hesitate to clamber onto his lap, palms still cupping his face and tongue exploring his mouth. Large fingers dug into your hips, his cock hard and straining beneath the jeans he was wearing.

“You’re a damn good kisser.” You huff against his lips. He smirked, “You thought I’d be bad?”

“Hm,” You hum, “Inexperienced at best.”

“Wow, so little faith in me?” He grunted when you pressed down on him, finally giving him some much needed friction. “Then give me something to believe in.” You breathe. 

“Take off your pants.” He demands darkly, and it sends a shiver up your spine. “What’s the magic word?” You want to see how far you could push his buttons. A hand meets your ass in a quick slap before he grips it. “Please?”

“Fuck,” You curse through fluttered lashes. “Okay.”

You get up, pulling off your professional looking trousers to reveal plain black underwear underneath. “Granny panties a turn on for you?” You ask through a small grin. He’s watching you through hooded eyes, leaning back on his hands.

“If you take off my pants, you’d see that we’re matching.”

“Is that so?” 

“How about you find out?” Sam reiterates your words from back at the bar and you can help but study him with a tilt of your head. “You're naughty, aren’t you Sammy boy?” He shrugs in faux innocence. “I have layers.”

“I’m seeing that.” 

You approach him and gesture for him to lift up his hips, pulling his jeans down and tossing them onto the floor carelessly. Your fingers return to your own shirt, slowly popping the buttons open before the cloth hangs off your shoulders.

“Look at that, my bra matches too.”

He gulps, eyes zeroed in on your breasts. “So it does.” You smile, pulling it off the rest of the way. Sam catches the hint, tugging his t-shirt off. His chest is lean and soft, his stomach tan and the planes off his hips disappear into his underwear, leaving behind a patch of hair sat below his navel.

“Follow the yellow brick road.” You remark unseriously when your eyes land on it. “You’re the worst.” He snorts and it makes you laugh a bit too.

“So, how’s this gonna go? Want me to suck you off?” You ask crudely, and he groans. “God, of course you have to talk like that.”

“I like to get straight to the point, it’s the lawyer in me.” You dismiss and he stands up, approaching you to grab you by your shoulders and whirling you around. He sits you down on the bed before shoving you down gently and you let him.

“I want to eat you out, that’s how this is going to go.” You raise a brow, but backup on the mattress to lay your head on the pillows. “Do you have to talk like that?” You reiterate. “Of course,��� He says as he crawls up the duvet to lay between your thick thighs. “It’s the hunter in me.”

“I see how it is.” The banter between you feeds the need twisting in your stomach. You let your legs fall apart so he can fit your knees over his shoulders. “Oh trust me, you will.” You snort, “Make that mouth useful, yeah?”

His gaze burns but he listens, licking at your clit over the cotton. You gasp, fingers tangling in his hair to just hold his head against you as he takes in your taste. Your eyes flutter closed, allowing yourself to get lost in his wet tongue.

“Mmf.” You moan through your lips that you had rolled between your teeth. You were sure your panties were soaked, and your heels pressed into his back.

“God, Sam… please, don’t tease.” You weren’t above begging, tugging at his hair to emphasize your plea. “Lift your hips up for me.” Heavy hands trace themselves from your hips down to the hem of the underwear where he proceeds to drag them down your thighs before he reluctantly pulls away to rid you of them completely.

He’s not gone for long, because he reconnects his lips to your bare, wet pussy, tongue diving between your folds to drink in your arousal. Your moan comes out in a loud shout, thighs tightening around his head and flatten over his ears.

“Gah – Oh fuck!” You swear, back arching and hips jumping. He holds them down, pinning you to the mattress and eating you out in abandon. His eyes are closed, brown tresses falling in his face as if he’s getting lost in you.

You have no idea where he learned all this from, but if his teeth scraping ever so slightly over your sensitive clit, she must’ve been good. A hell of a woman. You’d love to meet her. 

“Yes, yes, just like that – Good…” You choke when one of his long fingers join into the mess, “Good fucking boy.” Surprisingly, Sam moans at the praise, and you loll your head to the side to see that he’s grinding his own hips down onto the covers.

“Always knew you were a freak in bed.” You breathe, head falling back. He goes to remove his mouth to respond but you hold him there, “No, no, don’t please. ‘M so close.” He listens but his sucks gets harsher, and one finger turns into two.

Your body spasms with each coordinated brush and press on your g-spot.

“‘M fuck – ‘m cumming.” You cry out, body crunching up to chase and run away from the pleasure at the same time. You let out a mantra of little yes, yes, yes’s until your body goes lax and he pulls away.

“Holy shit.” You huff, staring up at the popcorn ceiling in order to ground yourself. “Told you so.” Sam sasses back and you look down to glare at him. “Just give me a sec.” You pant. 

“We don’t have to keep going if you’re too tired.” Sam says and rubs comfortingly at your skin. “If you think some head is what’s going to take me out, you’ve got another thing coming.” 

“Alright, alright.” Sam raises his hands in defeat and you chuckle at him.

“Since I came first, how do you want me? I’m fine with whatever.” He thinks about it for a moment before gesturing over to the pillows. “Ride me?” He spares a glance down to your shaky legs. “Unless you can’t keep yourself up.”

“Shut up and get against the headboard.”

“So romantic.” “Uh huh.” 

You’re coming to learn that sex with Sam is really fun; he’s a giver, and he’s playful and he isn’t afraid to bite back.

He situates himself with his back on the pillows, legs splayed out in front of him so you can sit on his thighs easier. Considerate.

“Can I take your bra off?” You raise an eyebrow at his question. “I never pegged you for boob guy.” 

“I enjoy a nice woman, sue me.”

For the first time that night, you truly blush at his words, hiding your flustered face by focusing on reaching behind you to take the damn thing off yourself. You toss it somewhere once your breasts fall free.

“Fuck me.” Sam breathes, hands reaching up to grab at them. Your nipples harden under his palms as he fondles them. “Having fun?” You ask in amusement. “Maybe.” He responds and you snort and roll your eyes. 

It seems as though you’re the only one that remembers what you came here for because you tug his underwear down and tap his hip. He lifts them up and soon enough he’s bare beneath you.

“Shit wait,” Sam curses and reaches over to rummage around until he finds what looks to be Dean’s wallet. “Dean left his wallet here?” You question. “Yeah, but don’t worry, I paid off whatever was on the tab before we left.”

He digs around until he finds a condom.

“Is that thing any good?” You ask in uncertainty. “Yeah, I saw him put it in here this morning. When asked him about it he said ‘You always have to be prepared for everything, Sammy.’” You laughed, shaking your head. 

“Good thing your brother is a manwhore and forgetful.” You tease and Sam just shakes his head in fond exasperation. 

He rips the thing and rolls it onto his hardened cock before lining it up with your entrance; you place your hands on his shoulders. “Are you still good?” You nod. “I’m still good.”

With that, he helps you sink down.

The stretch isn’t all that painful due to the previous foreplay, but it still leaves you breathless as he fills you up. It’s a bit overwhelming, because you don’t have sex often, and though you can feel Sam twitching in an attempt to keep himself still, he helps you settle.

You rotate your hips in a lazy swirl and Sam chokes, his grip on your waist tightening.

“You can move.” You whimper and he doesn’t hesitate to lift you up and down a few times before meeting you halfway. 

You settle on a slow rhythm at first before you work in tandem; once you go down, he comes up. Your clit brushes his pelvis ever so often that sends electric sparks through your veins.

“Faster.” You request through a mewl. “I got you, baby, I got you.” He reassures. Sam bends his knees, planting his feet firmly on the bed before fucking up into you. His tip hits your g-spot so hard it punches the air out your lungs and the moan you let out is whorish.

“So… so good. Sammy baby. Fuck –” You ramble, your mind fogging over as he takes the reins on both of your pleasure. His jaw is set tight, the vein in his neck bulging. “You’re so tight, God, I’m not gonna last long.”

“That’s okay.” You gasp out. “Use me, I don’t care.” You could have sworn you heard Sam whimper at your words. 

He pounds into you uncontrollably, the sounds of wet slapping reverberating throughout the small hotel room. It’s hot, admittedly so, the room reeking of sex, sweat, and dust. It’s a strange combination, but one that you welcome as you near your end.

“I think… I think I’m gonna cum again.” You hiccup. You dig the pads of your fingers into the meat of his shoulders and one of the hands that were holding your waist slips between you to rub at your swollen clit.

Tears fall down your face at the overstimulation, and you clench down onto him uncontrollably.

“Gonna cum too.” Sam rasps.

You work together to achieve your orgasms, and when you do, it’s beautiful; you lose yourself to the moment, letting the white hot burn of the sensation shake you. Everything is murmured for a moment before you open your eyes, and you must have fallen forward because all you can see is the wall in front of you.

Your insides are remarkably warm so Sam must’ve cum too.

You both bask in each other’s presence for a moment.

“Was that good enough payment?” Sam asks cheekily. “Hmm,” You hum, grabbing a piece of hair and twirling it between your fingers. “I could always take twenty bucks. Gas isn’t cheap, you know.”

“How about food? That’s the best I can do.”

You smile, “You asking me on a date, Winchester?”

“Maybe. If I was, would you say yes?”

“If the food’s any good then maybe.”

“God, you really are the worst.” Sam snorts and you laugh, full bellied.

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[sammygender]

something sooooo interesting about sam saying ‘i have powers’ present tense in american nightmare. even tho he proceeds to use past tense when talking about what he could do… he still identifies as having them. taking that as confirmation they’re still within him and he’s just too deeply traumatised by s4/5 to use them again <3 if this show was good though sam‘s psychic powers would’ve made a comeback

[samdeancrimespree]

it’s so wild how dean utterly Refuses to entertain sams “maybe im a monster and a killer” thing. he feels so strongly that sam is a perfect little angel. His perfect little sweetheart. all of those other psychic kids? Nothing like his sammy. when he says “you’ve got something they don’t. me” he tries to pass it off as this lighthearted reassurance but like. dean knows to his core that sam is good. at this point dean sees himself as the killer, the monster. sam “isn’t like them.” he’s not a killer. the powers don’t change that. if sam was a vampire, he’d be like lenore. he is so fundamentally averse to hurting people. that is like… just True about sam. that’s the most obvious thing in the world to dean. and even if sam can’t trust himself, he can trust deans judgement. that’s why he trusts dean to kill him. dean would know if he was bad. dean would take care of him.

[sampegger]

sam winchester // skeleton bones - mccafferty

[angel-ghoul444]

⛥ the boy with the demon blood ౨♱ৎ

[ghostpajamas]

under a dark star, a burning heart shines.

bleeding light like the sun, fallen son.

[ladylightning]

supernatural s2 is SO GOOD because every decision has more weight because the after life is still unknown to us. we know there is something after death but we don't know quite what that is. the season starts with tessa the reaper begging dean to come with her. to where? she cannot say. when john dies it’s devastating to the brothers that he’s no longer here but elsewhere. but it’s even more devastating as they come to the slow realization that elsewhere is probably hell, whatever that looks like. sam and dean don't know anything more than the audience does about hell.

there is an effort to exorcise the possessed and save them instead of letting them die because there is no promise of heaven to be made. the ghost in roadkill wants to know what happens when she crosses over and sam and dean just don’t know. where do the monsters go when they die? are there angels? is there a god? sam and dean don’t know. sam more than anything wants to believe. and secretly dean does too. but they just don’t know.

when sam dies where does he go? dean doesn’t know. we never get to see it. and more than that. does dean truly believe that he would be sent to the same hereafter as his brother after everything he has done? all dean knows is that there is a way to damn your eternal soul to hell and there is a way to bring his brother back from the unknown and he will choose that path without hesitation over and over and over again.

the second the angels are introduced we lose that sense of unknown. while the stakes are higher in seasons 4-5 the second we can see behind the curtain it’s over. yes you can damn the world and start the apocalypse but at least you KNOW. you know there is an afterlife. a heaven. a hell. a hereafter. and all the people who die will end up will end up where they belong so how guilty can you feel using a demon knife to kill an innocent? how wrong is it to drain the host for blood? they’ll end up in heaven after all. no more pain. and that is how only the winchester family drama becomes important to the brothers, because they KNOW the end is not the end. there’s more than just ghosts and demons and reapers. there is a heaven. and if there is a heaven every wrong bad thing in the narrative can be brushed away by the characters or the audience as “well at least they are at peace in heaven now.” they do this to jimmy novak and ash and pamela and lord knows who else.

season 2 sam and dean don’t have this opt out. every choice they make is so much heavier because they just. don’t. know.