♡ TW. Dead Dove // Read at Your Own Risk ; ♡ WC. 949
The room was pitch black, save for the harsh strip of LED white light carving across the ceiling like a surgical scar. It hummed like a buzzsaw. Cold. Clinical. Just like him.
He watched you tremble—naked, knees on the mattress, face shoved into the sheets like a discarded doll. Useless. Fragile.
Exactly how he liked you.
You didn’t see him, but he saw everything.
He always did.
The shape of your ribs with every sharp breath. The bruises blooming across your thighs—his hands. His mouth. His fucking appetite. He saw the glossy drool clinging to your lips, the way you tried to breathe through your nose even though you were gagging around his cock.
Pathetic. Sweet. He could’ve left you like this all night.
But no.
Tonight, he wanted to watch you break while your face was buried between his legs—while he had his mouth buried between yours.
You twitched when he climbed over you.
No warning. Just the heat of his body settling on top of yours in one slow, humiliating crawl. That thick length still stuffing your throat as he rotated your hips up, his hand wrapping around your inner thigh like it was meant to be snapped apart. Bent like meat.
He didn’t say anything, of course. He never had to.
Your cunt was soaked before he even touched it.
He didn’t kiss it. He bit. First. Hard. He wanted you to yelp—around his cock, around the shame in your chest—and you did, drooling down his shaft as you writhed like a dying thing under him.
“Don’t stop sucking just because you’re crying.”
That voice was sweet. High. Laughing. As if he wasn’t eating you like a rabid fucking dog.
The tongue that flicked and probed and twisted into you wasn’t trying to please you.
It was trying to dismantle you.
You weren’t a girl. You were a thing. A toy. A hole.
And he made sure you understood that with every clench of his fingers around your trembling thighs, with every humiliating slurp he dragged from your cunt as his cock shoved further and further down your throat. You choked. He moaned.
He loved how your little cunt clenched when you gagged.
Of course it would. You were made for him. Whether you knew it or not.
That was the fun part.
The degradation was just foreplay.
You could barely focus on one sensation before the next obliterated it. Your eyes rolled. Your legs kicked. But he gripped your ass so hard the bruises would be there for days. His tongue violated you with slow, cruel confidence, every stroke deeper than the last. Every moan he breathed into your cunt made you melt into the mattress like meat melting off bone.
He didn’t slow down when you started sobbing.
He liked that too much.
He gave a deep grunt when you tried to pull away from his cock, your throat too sore, too raw—but he grabbed your hair and forced you down again, so hard you almost puked.
Almost.
Would’ve been cute if you had. A real mess.
He came first, of course. He always did. But not in your mouth. Not yet.
He yanked you back by the hair, your lips red, your nose wet, eyes ruined. He looked down at you like a scientist studying an animal he just dissected.
You twitched.
He laughed.
“You look disgusting.”
He sounded proud.
You couldn’t say anything. Couldn’t breathe. He didn’t care.
He flipped you, one-handed, face back into the pillows, ass in the air. Spit dripping down your thighs. Cunt so wet he didn’t need to lube his fingers when he shoved two inside you like he was stuffing trash down a drain.
“Still fucking tight,” he growled. “Guess I didn’t break you enough yet.”
He was smiling. That twisted, boyish grin. Like all this was a joke.
It wasn’t.
He moved back over you, cock glistening, smeared with your saliva. You couldn’t even beg before he rammed it inside you like a punishment.
He bottomed out on the first thrust.
You screamed into the mattress. He moaned.
“That’s more like it,” he sighed, fucking you so hard the bedframe cracked. “That’s the sound I wanted from the start.”
Every time you clawed forward, he yanked you back.
Every time your body jerked away, he shoved deeper.
The slapping of skin was loud. Obscene. Like violence.
Your mind tried to crawl somewhere else, but he wouldn’t let it. He gripped the back of your neck and slammed your face into the mattress until all you could hear was your pulse. You weren’t even there anymore. You were just a vessel.
He wouldn’t let you dissociate.
Not tonight.
“You’re mine,” he whispered against your ear, hips pounding into you like gunfire. “Mine. My little fucktoy. My hole. My crybaby genius slut.”
The names never stopped.
Stupid. Filthy. Cunt. Slut. Rag.
“Say thank you,” he said.
You whimpered.
“Louder.”
“Thank you,” you cried.
He rewarded you by choking you out until you blacked for a second.
When you came, he didn’t let you. He kept going.
Because you weren’t allowed unless he said so.
You knew that.
But your body betrayed you anyway.
And that was the real horror.
Not him.
You.
How easy it was to be used. How natural it felt to obey. To break.
He pulled out before he came.
You whimpered. Your pussy clenched around nothing.
He smeared it all over your back.
He never came inside. Not yet.
That would be too merciful.
You collapsed. He watched.
He watched you twitch. Suck in shallow, ruined gasps. Your body convulsing around his fingerprints.
You couldn’t move.
But he could.
And he wasn’t done.
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
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❤︎ 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.
♡ Book 7. Corpus Delicti (CD): Donum Mortis.
♡ Book 8. Malum Consilium (MC): Primordial Hunger.
𝐆𝐨𝐝'𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭 