♡ TW. Dead Dove // Read at Your Own Risk ; ♡ WC. 1,126
The air crackles, thick and suffocating, humming with an unseen violence that pricks at your skin. It seeps into your bones, coils around your ribs, constricts, squeezes—tight, tight, too tight.
You barely register the weight of your classmate’s hand, his nails biting into your wrist like a parasite burrowing deep. He shoves you, again and again, until your back meets the unyielding cold of the courtyard wall. There’s a sneer curling his lips, something ugly, something hungry—something that makes your stomach churn and twist into itself.
You don’t fight it.
You don’t even flinch.
That sick, familiar heat blooms in your stomach before you can snuff it out. It settles, an ember waiting to ignite, a sensation too close to pleasure, too filthy to name. And then—
It all vanishes.
In a blink, the hand is gone, ripped away so violently that the sound of bone meeting flesh reverberates through the air like a gunshot. A strangled cry rings out, but it’s short-lived, choked down to a gurgle as your classmate’s body crumples to the ground. A boot slams onto his chest, pressing, pressing, harder, harder, until the ribs beneath creak like brittle twigs ready to snap.
Your bully doesn’t even spare him a glance.
His gaze is on you.
And it burns.
“You really don’t give a fuck who does it, do you?”
A muscle jumps in his jaw, his fingers twitch at his sides, curled so tight his knuckles gleam white under the dim courtyard lights. His entire body hums with restrained fury, wound taut as a predator moments from the kill.
He steps closer.
Your stomach knots.
“You let him touch you?” His voice is a blade, honed and jagged.
Your mouth parts, but nothing comes out. You should say no. Should tell him it didn’t mean anything, that you didn’t want it, that it wasn’t the same—but that would be a lie, wouldn’t it? And he has always read you too well.
The grin that spreads across his face is slow, deliberate, sharp as a razor pressed against tender flesh. His hand snaps up, fingers curling around your throat—not squeezing, not yet, just pressing, just feeling the way your pulse thrums wildly beneath his touch.
Possessive. Branding.
“You fucking like it, don’t you?” His breath is hot against your skin, his voice a dark, velvety thing dripping with malice. “You don’t care where it comes from, as long as someone’s putting their hands on you.”
Your fingers twitch.
His grip tightens. Just slightly.
Heat licks up your spine.
“You wanna be treated like a whore so bad, huh?” A cruel chuckle vibrates in his chest as his free hand trails down your side, slow, measured, savoring. It ghosts over your hip, dips lower, shoves your skirt up with a lazy sort of cruelty. “That why you let some pathetic little bitch lay his hands on you?”
A sharp yank, and you’re pulled forward, ripped from the wall and into his chest. The scent of him engulfs you—smoke, musk, something biting and sharp that makes your head swim.
Then he’s dragging you away.
The world blurs. The courtyard, the gasping classmate sprawled in the dirt, the hushed murmurs of onlookers who know better than to intervene. None of it matters.
You don’t register the slam of your back against a door until the lock clicks, sealing you inside his dorm, trapping you in the heavy silence that follows.
He doesn’t hesitate.
His mouth crashes against your throat, teeth sinking in, claiming, marking. Hands shove and tug, tearing fabric, stripping you bare with a single-minded intensity that borders on feral. He maps out your skin with bruising touches, carving his name into your flesh with every press, every bite, every ragged breath.
“You think anyone else could handle you?” he growls, dragging you onto the bed, shoving your thighs apart like he owns them. “You think some weak fucking coward could give you what I do?”
Your breath stutters. Your body trembles. But you don’t answer.
You don’t need to.
He sees it.
He sees the way your body responds to him, the way your thighs twitch when he spits on his fingers, rubbing the slick mess over your clit in slow, mocking circles.
“Pathetic little thing,” he murmurs, thick with disdain, with something deeper, something dangerously close to obsession. “You need someone to break you, don’t you?”
The blunt, heavy drag of his cock against your entrance steals the air from your lungs, slick smearing over flushed skin, teasing, taunting.
And then he’s inside.
You choke on a gasp.
Too big. Too much. The stretch is brutal, splitting you open inch by inch, forcing your walls to yield, to accommodate, to take. He doesn’t wait, doesn’t let you breathe—he snaps his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt, a groan rumbling from deep in his chest.
“Mine.”
The word is a growl, a snarl, punctuated by the bruising grip of his hands on your waist as he drags you closer, as he forces you to take him deeper, deeper, deeper.
Your nails claw at his shoulders, useless, desperate. Your head spins.
“You’re never letting anyone else touch you again,” he hisses, pulling back just enough to slam into you again, sharp, punishing, brutal. “I see it—I see the way you fucking like this.”
Shame curls around your ribs, tight and suffocating.
But it’s too late to deny it.
He pounds into you, fast and unrelenting, each thrust knocking the air from your lungs, each slap of skin against skin hammering in the humiliating truth—
You love it.
You love how cruel he is, how easily he manhandles you, how he spits out every insult like it’s the filthiest thing he’s ever said.
“Little fucking masochist,” he mutters, voice low and mocking. “You don’t even care what I do to you, do you?”
His teeth sink into your shoulder, his hips snapping forward, hitting something deep, something devastating.
A sharp cry spills from your lips.
His grin is feral.
“You’re gonna take every fucking drop,” he breathes, thick with possession, with something darker, more insidious. “Gonna fill you up, make sure you know exactly who you belong to.”
Your body clenches around him, the coil in your stomach twisting, winding, ready to snap.
He slams you flat against the mattress, his full weight crushing, suffocating, his cock twitching, thick and pulsing—
And then he’s spilling into you, burying himself so deep you swear you can feel it in your stomach.
For a moment, he doesn’t move.
He just lets you feel it. The heat. The weight.
Then, finally, he chuckles, low and mean, lips pressing against your temple.
“No one else,” he murmurs, satisfied. “Only me.”
And you don’t have the strength to argue.
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
♡ List of Fandoms and Characters.
♡ Note. Due to Tumblr policy, all characters are all of age.
Ace Attorney: N/A
Arcane: N/A
Blue Lock: Michael Kaiser, Shidou Ryusei, Yoichi Isagi
Boku no Hero Academia: Dabi, Katsuki Bakugo
Brutal: Satsujin Kansatsukan no Kokuhaku: N/A
Death Note: N/A
Demon Slayer: Sanemi Shinazugawa
DC: Damian Wayne
Dishonored Series: N/A
Genshin Impact: Childe, Scaramouche
Haikyuu!!: Hajime Iwaizumi, Yūji Terushima
Honkai Star Rail: Blade, Boothill
How to Live as an Illegal Healer: N/A
Hunter x Hunter: Uvogin
I’m Not That Kind of Talent: N/A
Jujutsu Kaisen: Naoya Zen’in, Ryōmen Sukuna
Kill The Hero: Park Yong-Wan
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, Dust! Sans, Fresh! Sans, Ink! Sans, Killer! Sans, Nightmare! Sans, Shattered Dream! Sans, Underfell! Papyrus, Underfell! Sans, Undertale! Chara
Wuthering Waves: Scar
Your Throne: N/A
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of The Red Ledger (TRL): Stained in Lust, Written in Blood. Thank you.
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 