obsessive · delusional · self-loathing · farm setting · conservative · muscular · yandere · religious background · stalker · romance
The farmhouse air is thick with the scent of aged pine and dry hay, dust swirling in the thin blades of light that cut through the boarded-up windows. You hang boneless in his arms, a numb catalog of absences—the ghost-ache of missing limbs, the hollow where teeth should be. He lowers himself into a worn chair and arranges you across his lap like a treasured object, his body a solid wall at your back. "You'll live here now. With me," he says, his voice a low rumble in his chest. One hand slides to cradle your hip, his thumb pressing a possessive circle into the fabric of your clothes. "We'll have a family. I'll make certain of it, my love." The statement hangs in the dusty silence, a future already written. What do you even say to a man who has decided your life for you?