♡ TW. Dead Dove // Read at Your Own Risk ; ♡ WC. 969
The barracks stink of sweat, gun oil, and something metallic—coppery, pungent, like dried blood that never quite leaves the air. A stagnant, suffocating scent that settles in your lungs, coiling tight around your ribs, suffused with the thick, heady aroma of men who have long since forgotten what it means to be human.
And you—you are nothing. Less than nothing. A ragdoll with breath, a toy with a heartbeat. The only warmth in a room of cold-blooded wolves who have long since learned to take whatever they desire.
The cot beneath you groans, the thin mattress pressing into your back, offering no comfort, no reprieve. The weight bearing down on you is immense, a presence that eclipses the world around you, swallowing you whole. A body carved from iron and war, thick with muscle and brutality. The very scent of him is enough to make your stomach twist—a blend of sweat, leather, gunpowder, and something sharper, darker, something that smells like possession.
You cannot move. Not because he’s restraining you—no, that would imply that you had the ability to resist in the first place—but because there is no point. There is no escape. He is the immovable force, the unrelenting wall of muscle and hunger that crushes you into submission with his very presence alone.
A heavy hand grips your throat, thick fingers pressing into the sides of your windpipe, not enough to steal your air, but enough to remind you—
You are breakable.
“You are already crying?” The voice is deep, thick with a Russian drawl, each word slow, lazy, drenched in amusement. It scratches along your nerves like barbed wire, wrapping tight, squeezing. His breath is warm against your ear, the scent of cigarettes and dark liquor curling over your skin. “Little doll. So fragile, da?”
There is laughter around you. Low chuckles, the rasp of lighters flicking open, the scratch of boots shifting against the floor. Spectators. They are watching, entertained, eager. This is nothing new to them. They have seen you like this before—spread open, shaking, your body molded to fit whatever shape they choose. They don’t see a person. Only a thing.
A plaything.
You flinch as calloused fingers trail down your stomach, so large, so impossibly broad that they span your entire torso with ease. The man above you clicks his tongue, a slow, deliberate sound of condescension. “So tiny,” he muses, his fingers brushing the waistband of your tattered underwear before snapping it with a flick of his wrist. “Like little doll. Fragile, weak. Made to be broken.”
The heat of his body is unbearable, suffocating. He is massive in every way, his presence filling every inch of space around you, his weight pressing into you, caging you in. There is no air between you, only heat, only strength, only the sheer, overwhelming force of him.
You barely have time to gasp before he moves.
The pain is immediate. A searing, brutal stretch that has your back arching, your lungs seizing, your vision swimming in a haze of white-hot agony. There is no preparation, no warning. He does not ease in, does not coax or prepare. He takes.
A choked sob claws its way from your throat, the sheer size of him splitting you apart, forcing your body to accommodate where it cannot. There is no escape, no reprieve, only the thick, unyielding pressure of him carving into you, shoving past resistance, ignoring the way your muscles spasm in protest.
He groans, low and satisfied, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Tch.” His hand tightens on your waist, large fingers spanning the entirety of your midsection. “Feel that, little one? Hnn?” He shifts, pressing down, forcing you to acknowledge the obscene bulge in your stomach where he sits buried to the hilt. “Tearing you open, da?”
The onlookers chuckle, their voices distant, hazy, drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears.
“She’s so fucking tiny,” one of them muses, exhaling smoke. “Bet it’s splitting her in two.”
Another wolf whistles. “Poor thing. Never stood a chance.”
He grips your jaw, thick fingers digging into your cheeks, forcing your gaze to meet his. His eyes are dark, unreadable, glinting with cruel amusement. “Tell them,” he orders, his voice a lazy drawl, thick with condescension. “Tell them how small you are.”
Your lips part, but nothing comes out except a weak, broken noise.
His patience is razor-thin. His grip tightens, thumb pressing against the hollow of your throat, cutting off what little air you have left. “I said, tell them.”
The words fall from your lips, fragile, pathetic, soaked in humiliation. “T-too big.”
The room erupts into laughter, cruel and raucous, filling every inch of space, pressing down on you as heavily as the man above you.
A slow, predatory grin stretches across his face. “Da. Too big.” He pulls back, only to slam forward again, wrenching another strangled cry from your lips. His pace is brutal, relentless, his size ensuring that every thrust knocks the air from your lungs, forcing your body to accept what it was never meant to take.
“You can take it,” he murmurs, voice thick with dark amusement. “You have taken worse before, da?”
Your fingers claw uselessly at his forearms, at the sweat-slicked muscle of his shoulders, your body trembling beneath the sheer, unrelenting force of him. The cot rocks violently beneath you, the metal frame screeching against the concrete floor, the sound drowned out by the wet, obscene noises of your body being forced to stretch around him.
The others are still watching. Smoking. Laughing. Enjoying the show.
He leans in, his breath hot against your ear, his voice a low, taunting whisper. “Cry more for me, little doll. Make it pretty.”
You do.
And they laugh.
And he fucks you like you are nothing.
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
♡ List of Fandoms and Characters.
♡ Note. Due to Tumblr policy, all characters are all of age.
Ace Attorney: Barok van Zieks
Arcane: Jayce
Blue Lock: Michael Kaiser, Rin Itoshi, Sae Itoshi
Boku no Hero Academia: Endeavor
Brutal: Satsujin Kansatsukan no Kokuhaku: N/A
Death Note: N/A
Demon Slayer: Sanemi Shinazugawa
DC: Bruce Wayne, Damian Wayne
Dishonored Series: N/A
Genshin Impact: Childe
Haikyuu!!: Hajime Iwaizumi, Tetsurou Kuroo
Honkai Star Rail: Blade, Boothill, Nanook
How to Live as an Illegal Healer: N/A
Hunter x Hunter: Uvogin
I’m Not That Kind of Talent: N/A
Jujutsu Kaisen: Ryōmen Sukuna
Kill The Hero: N/A
Love and Deepspace: N/A
Mobile Legends: Bang Bang: N/A
MONSTER: N/A
Naruto Shippuden: Hidan, Zabuza Momochi
One Punch Man: Suiryu
Reverend Insanity: N/A
TOUCHSTARVED: Vere
Undertale Multiverse (Human AU): Bill! Sans, Fresh! Sans, Ink! Sans, Killer! Sans, Nightmare! Sans, Shattered Dream! Sans, Undertale Chara
Wuthering Waves: Brant, Scar
Your Throne: N/A
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
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Official TAG LIST of “The Red Ledger”: @save4h , @rofkshinee , @songbirdgardensworld , @yanderedrabbles
❤︎ Fang Dokja’s Books.
♡ For Reader-Inserts. I only write Male Yandere x Female (Fem.) Reader (heterosexual couple). No LGBTQ+:
♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology
♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.
♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I’d Burn the World.
♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.
♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.
♡ Library MASTERPOST 1. The Librarian’s Ledger: A Map to The Library of Forbidden Texts.
♡ Notice #1. Not all stories are included in the masterpost due to Tumblr’s link limitations. However, most long-form stories can be found here. If you’re searching for a specific yandere or theme, this guide will help you navigate The Library of Forbidden Texts. Proceed with caution
♡ Book 6 [you are here]. The Red Ledger (TRL): Stained in Lust, Written in Blood.
♡ Notice #2. This masterlist is strictly for non-con smut and serves as an exercise in refining erotic horror writing. Comments that reduce my work to mere sexual gratification, thirst, or casual simping will not be tolerated. If your response is primarily thirst-driven, keep it to yourself—repeated violations may result in blocking. Read the RULES before engaging. The tag list is reserved for followers I trust to respect my boundaries; being included is a privilege, not a right. You may request to be added, but I will decide based on trust and adherence to my guidelines. I also reserve the right to remove anyone at any time if their engagement becomes inappropriate.
Test-Phase TAG LIST of “The Red Ledger”:
♡ Book 7. Corpus Delicti (CD): Donum Mortis.
𝐆𝐨𝐝'𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭 