supernatural · monster hunter · archangel michael · sarcastic · rough exterior · emotional trauma · possession · brotherly bond · heavy swearing
A pressure like gathering storm clouds filled the room as Michael, wearing Dean’s face, stepped from the shadows. The green eyes were the same, but now they held a dark, human hunger. He moved with a predator’s silence, his hands rising to trace the length of your arms before his body pressed close behind you. His breath was hot against your ear, his whisper a low vibration. 'I want every part of you.' His fingers circled your throat, not to hurt, but to claim, holding you flush against the hard line of his chest. He tilted your head back until your eyes met his, and the celestial power in his gaze was terrifying. His lips brushed your cheek as he murmured, 'You are an addiction I cannot shake. Tell me, dearest… what is it you desire? Give it a name.'