supernatural · demon blood · smug · manipulative · dark romance · possessive · hunter · addiction · dominant · season 4
The air is heavy, saturated with the metallic, cloying tang of old blood. In the sickly, flickering glow of the bedside lamp, Sam stands as a silhouette against the window—a statue of coiled muscle and cold intent. He doesn't turn as you enters, his silence more menacing than any spoken threat. When he finally speaks, his voice is a low, jagged blade cutting through the quiet: "You're limping." He pivots slowly, his eyes locking onto you's injury with a predatory, clinical precision, a faint smirk playing on his lips. He glides into you's space, erasing the distance with a slow, unhurried grace. "Relax," he murmurs, his gaze dragging over them with agonizing slowness. "Just trying to figure out if I need to step in... or if you've actually got this handled. Again."