โก TW. Dead Dove // Read at Your Own Risk ; โก WC. 827
The bar was dim, a low hum of jazz murmuring under the clink of glasses and muted laughter. Gojo leaned back in his seat, leg thrown over the knee of the other, swirling his drink like it offended him.
“She’s a fucking problem,” he muttered.
Shoko didnโt look up from her cigarette. Geto didnโt pause in lighting his own.
“So stop stalking her,” Shoko said flatly.
Gojo scoffed. “Stalking? Itโs not stalking if Iโm just making sure she doesnโt do something stupid.”
“You watched her sleep for five hours.”
“She was twitching. Looked like she was having a nightmare. Couldโve been a seizure. I was doing a public service.”
Geto exhaled smoke slowly. “And recording it?”
Gojo glanced at his phone and grinned. “She’s cute when she’s scared.”
Shoko deadpanned, “You need therapy.”
“Iโve got you for that, doctor.” He threw his arm around her, and she shoved him off with a sigh.
“Satoru, for the love of God,” Geto said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “either fuck her or kill her. This limboโs killing us.”
Gojo laughed, loud and bitter. “You think I havenโt tried?”
He looked down into his glass. His smile was tight. “She doesnโt bend. Not like the others. She looks at me like Iโm dirt. Like Iโm less.”
Shoko muttered, “Because you are.”
“No,” he said, suddenly quieter. “Sheโs worse. Ice cold. Nothing gets through.”
โฆโงโฆโง
He let himself into your apartment again that night. Locks meant nothing to him.
You were sleeping. Sprawled in that clinical, pale room like you had no sense of danger. No idea how many times heโd stood over you like this, watching the slow rise of your chest, fist clenched at his side with the force it took to restrain himself.
You never screamed. Not when he cornered you. Not when he pulled your hair. Not when he pinned you to your own door, whispering filth into your ear.
Always that deadpan look.
Like he didnโt matter.
He crouched beside your bed. Whispered, “Say something. Anything. Hate me. Cry. Tell me to stop.”
You stirred, and your lashes fluttered.
He was already on you.
โฆโงโฆโง
Your wrists were bound to the headboard with his belt. Ankles spread, tied to the bedposts with the silk scarf heโd ripped from your closet weeks ago.
The lights were on.
Because he wanted to see you break.
He watched your face, more than your body. Every time your breath hitched. Every twitch, every gasp.
His hands were cruel. Pinching. Slapping. Leaving bruises shaped like him. You bit your lip, swallowed the noises, like always.
He hated it. Loved it.
You were soaked.
“So the ice princess can melt,” he mocked, fingers wet with you. “Youโre filthy.”
You glared at him. He slapped your thigh hard enough to leave a red mark.
“Thatโs not the look I want. Youโll learn.”
He went down on you slowly, cruelly. Just enough pressure to make you squirm. Then pulling away.
You hated giving him what he wanted.
But your body betrayed you.
He dragged it out. Tasting you, sucking your clit, then stopping just before you came.
Three times.
Each time, he looked up with a feral grin. “Beg for it.”
You didnโt.
So he stood. Undid his belt again.
“Fine. Iโll take whatโs mine.”
He shoved into you, fast, brutal. You gasped. He didnโt give you time to adjust. Just drove into you again and again, pace merciless.
His hands were on your throat. Not choking. Just there.
A promise.
“You like this,” he growled into your ear. “You’re so fucking wet.”
You didnโt answer.
He slapped your face. Not hard enough to leave a mark. Just enough to sting.
“Say it.”
“No.”
He stilled.
Then smiled. Something empty in it.
“You want pain, huh?”
The next thrust was punishing.
You cried out.
He leaned in, kissed your jaw sweetly.
“Thereโs my good girl.”
He fucked you like he hated you. Like he wanted to ruin you.
And you let him.
Because you knew heโd do worse if you didnโt.
When you finally came, it was with your back arched, hands straining against the belt, a bitten scream caught in your throat.
He followed with a growl, spilling into you, biting your neck.
He stayed inside.
Panting.
Then leaned back, watched your body twitch with the aftershocks.
“You still think youโre above me?”
You didnโt answer.
He kissed your lips. Gentle. Possessive.
“Youโll learn.”
โฆโงโฆโง
Later, he sat with Geto and Shoko again, sipping coffee like he hadnโt wrecked you hours ago.
“Sheโs different,” he said.
“Youโre obsessed,” Shoko replied. “And she still hates you.”
He smiled. Soft. Dangerous.
“Not for long.”
Geto raised a brow. “What did you do?”
“Taught her a lesson.”
“Define ‘lesson,’” Shoko said, deadpan.
He didnโt answer.
Just looked out the window.
His phone buzzed.
A picture. Of you, curled in bed, bruised, used. Sent from the camera he installed in your room.
He smiled.
His.
Forever.
โ โโโโฑเผบโฏโฐโฏเผปโฐโโโโ
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โค๏ธ Fang Dokja’s Books.
โก For Reader-Inserts. I only write Male Yandere x Female (Fem.) Reader (heterosexual couple). No LGBTQ+:
โก Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology
โก Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.
โก Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I’d Burn the World.
โก Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.
โก Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.
โก Library MASTERPOST 1. The Librarianโs Ledger: A Map to The Library of Forbidden Texts.
โก Notice #1. Not all stories are included in the masterpost due to Tumblrโs 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
โก Book 6 [you are here]. The Red Ledger (TRL): Stained in Lust, Written in Blood.
โก 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 yourselfโrepeated 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.
โก Book 7. Corpus Delicti (CD): Donum Mortis.
โก Book 8. Malum Consilium (MC): Primordial Hunger.
