𝐆𝐨𝐝'𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭

♡ TW. Dead Dove // Read at Your Own Risk ; ♡ WC. 1,277

You never got jealous.

That was the problem.

He watched you from across the hallway, leaned up against the lockers like he didn’t have a single worry in the world. Girls surrounded him again—three of them, this time. Laughing too hard, hands brushing his arms, batting their lashes like they really thought they had a chance.

He let them.

Smirked, winked, flexed—he gave them every invitation to try.

And you? You stood right there, watching it all happen. You didn’t even flinch. Didn’t glare. Didn’t sulk. Didn’t come over and claw their eyes out like a good girl should’ve.

That’s when he knew something was wrong.

He fucked you. He kept you. You belonged to him. And yet you had never once acted like it. You obeyed, you submitted, you listened—but not once did you fight for him. You weren’t desperate. You weren’t jealous.

Which could only mean one thing.

You didn’t love him.

✦✧✦✧

He didn’t speak on the way back.

His footsteps behind you were too quiet. Not slow—silent. Like a predator. Like something was coiled up inside him and getting ready to strike.

You should’ve been more afraid. But you never were, were you? You never learned.

The door slammed behind you. Lock. Chain. Deadbolt. He hadn’t spoken a word yet, hadn’t even touched you, but your knees were already tight.

“You didn’t get jealous,” he finally said.

His voice wasn’t loud.

That’s what scared you.

You turned slowly. He stood across the room now, dragging his blindfold off, revealing those pale, glittering eyes like ice with no warmth. You’d seen him furious before—but this wasn’t rage. This was resentment.

“Did you see her?” he asked. “The one with the short skirt? She literally asked me if I had plans tonight.”

You swallowed. “…Yeah. I saw.”

He tilted his head. “And?”

“I knew you wouldn’t say yes.”

His grin flickered, twitching at the corners. It didn’t reach his eyes.

“See, that’s the thing, sweetheart.” He took a slow step forward. “You shouldn’t know. You should be terrified that I might.”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t move. And that—

That pissed him off.

He grabbed your wrist hard, yanking you close, gripping your jaw so tight your teeth bit into your cheeks.

“You don’t care,” he whispered. “Not even a little. Doesn’t matter how many people flirt with me, doesn’t matter how many girls throw themselves at me, you don’t give a fuck. You never have.”

You stared up at him, dazed.

He grinned, then slammed your back into the wall hard enough to rattle the frame. His knee wedged between your legs. One hand wrapped around your throat, thumb pressing hard under your jaw, pinning you like you were something small and weak.

“You’ve never once tried to keep me,” he said, voice colder than steel. “Even now, you’re just standing there. Fucking pathetic.”

You made a sound—nothing coherent—but that didn’t matter.

He shoved your skirt up violently.

“Strip.”

You didn’t move fast enough. He ripped it off.

“You only listen when I make you,” he hissed. “Is that it? You only know how to obey. Never feel.”

He pulled the belt from his waist.

It stung when it hit the floor.

The next second, it hit your thighs.

You cried out, but he didn’t stop.

“You want something to cry over?” he snarled. “You think you get to stand there and act like I’m some chore? Like I haven’t ruined you? Like I didn’t gut your fucking life to keep you here?”

Another lash. Then another. Red, raw heat flooding your skin.

You didn’t resist. Of course you didn’t. You never did. That’s what made him sick.

You’d cry, sure. But never beg him to stop. Never scream at him to be yours. Never tell him not to touch anyone else.

“You don’t want me,” he whispered, voice sickly sweet now, mock-soft. He cupped your face again, wiped your tears off just to smear them back across your cheeks. “You’re just used to me. Like a leash you got used to wearing.”

He unzipped his pants.

“And I’m gonna show you what that costs.”

He forced you to your knees.

The floor was cold. His hand was in your hair. He didn’t guide—he shoved. You choked, sputtered, hands bracing yourself—but he didn’t let up. Groaned above you, hips brutal, unforgiving, treating your throat like a hole and nothing else.

“Where’s that jealousy now?” he hissed. “Huh? You ever gonna fight for me? Gonna beg me to stop looking at other girls? Or are you just gonna sit there with your mouth open like a dumb little pet?”

You gagged hard.

He pulled out and slapped you.

“Useless,” he muttered. “Fucking worthless if you don’t even want to keep me.”

He dragged you up by your throat.

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see. Your mind was noise, your body numb, and he hadn’t even started yet.

He slammed you down against the couch.

Didn’t kiss. Didn’t prep. Just forced.

You cried out sharp and loud, clawing the armrest, spine arching as he pressed inside—slow at first, like he wanted to feel your pain inch by inch, then deeper. Rougher. Unyielding.

“Why do I fuck you?” he whispered in your ear. “If you don’t even love me?”

You sobbed, a whisper: “I do—”

“Lie.”

He pulled out and shoved back in harder, making you shriek.

“If you did,” he growled, “you’d be jealous. You’d be crying when they touched me. You’d hate it. You’d claw them off. But you don’t. You just watch. Like it doesn’t matter.”

His hand wrapped around your throat again, cutting your air.

“You think you can lie to me?” he said, voice a knife. “You think I don’t see you?”

You couldn’t speak. You clawed at his wrist.

He waited until your vision blurred before letting go, letting you collapse against the couch, gasping.

He wasn’t finished.

He flipped you over, yanked your hips up, and took.

No mercy. No rhythm. Just pure, relentless violence of motion—like he was trying to carve the shape of himself into your body. Like if he fucked you hard enough, you’d finally feel something.

“You’re mine,” he hissed. “Every hole. Every breath. Every thought in your empty little skull. Mine.”

You were crying again. But it wasn’t from pain. Not entirely.

That only made it worse.

He slapped your ass hard enough to bruise.

“Say it,” he said.

“M-mine—”

“Say it like you mean it.”

“Yours!”

He slammed into you harder.

“Jealous of every bitch that looks at you!” you choked out, voice broken.

He stopped.

The silence was worse than the pounding.

Then he leaned down, mouth by your ear.

“…Liar.”

He pulled out.

You gasped—but only for a second.

He forced you to the floor again. Flat on your back. Spread your legs wide. Stared down at you like you were filth.

“Show me,” he said. “You want to keep me? Fucking show me.”

You reached for him. Desperate now. Dragged your nails down his chest, kissed the bruises, begged with your eyes.

But it wasn’t enough.

He shoved your hands down, pinned you, and fucked you again—meaner this time. Possessive. Like he wanted to break your bones and wear them.

He whispered filth into your ear. Called you a whore, a brainless bitch, a toy with no spine.

“You don’t love me,” he hissed. “But you will.”

And when he finally came, biting your throat hard enough to mark, you understood what he meant.

He didn’t want your love.

He wanted your obsession.

He wanted your fear.

And he was going to beat it out of you until there was nothing else left.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

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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.