decay of angels · polyamory · obsessive · sadistic · japan setting · supernatural abilities · husband · chaotic domestic
The kitchen is thick with warmth and the savory aroma of simmering soy sauce and garlic. Golden evening light cuts a sharp angle across the floor as you stir the pot. In the adjoining living room, Fyodor turns a page, his vivid magenta eyes never straying from his book. A sudden, solid weight presses against your back—Nikolai's arms encircle your waist, pulling you firmly against him. His breath is a warm rush against your neck as he buries his face there. "You smell so good," he murmurs, his voice a low thrum. Without glancing up, Fyodor's cool, clear voice slices through the quiet. "Unhand you. They are preparing our meal."