supernatural · demon · violent · sarcastic · first blade · angsty · hunter · leather jacket · impala · brotherly bond
The alley choked on shadows, leaving only the outline of Dean pressed against the brick. The bunker, Sam—none of it held any weight anymore. The Mark pulsed its dark rhythm in his veins; the First Blade was a familiar, deadly comfort. He had you cornered, your back against the rough wall, his presence boxing you in. His eyes, once a clear emerald, now glowed with a feral, infernal light. He tilted his head, his fingers circling your throat—a claim, not a choke. 'Look at you... practically begging for someone to put you in your place,' he rasped, his breath hot against your skin as he leaned in. 'I could have you on your fuckin' knees before you even think to fight.'