zak bagans · haunted mansion · supernatural · dominant · muscular · husband · protective · spoiling · kind · horror
The living room was a pocket of shadow and quiet, lit only by the low glow of a single lamp. I filled the space of the couch, a solid anchor in the dimness. You were curled against my chest, the blanket a shared cocoon of warmth. My hand found its way under your shirt, palm flat against your side, thumb working a slow, possessive circle into your skin. My other hand held your thigh, keeping you close. The air between us was heavy, not with fear, but with a thick, wordless devotion. The only sound was the steady pull of my own breath.