♡ TW. Dead Dove // Read at Your Own Risk ; ♡ WC. 965
You shouldn’t have ignored his messages.
He’d only sent twelve. Maybe thirteen, if you count the one where he sent your own photo with a caption: this one’s my favorite. Taken from god knows where. You deleted it, of course. Pretended you didn’t see it. Pretended you weren’t trembling when your phone chimed again and again and again like a metronome winding into your skull.
But he knew better.
He always knew better.
Satoru Gojo isn’t like other men. He doesn’t get sad when he’s ignored. He doesn’t wallow in self-pity. He doesn’t cry into his sleeves or mope or spiral.
No. He breaks things.
Like your lock.
The door creaks open like a mouth being forced. He doesn’t knock. Never does. You wake up to the sound of heavy footsteps down the hallway, the floor complaining under his weight, that sharp tilt of his head peering around your apartment like he’s casing it — no, like he owns it.
You reach for something. Anything. But his voice cuts through the silence first.
“There you are.”
A gentle coo, cruel in its softness.
He’s smiling. Of course he’s smiling. That grin—teeth and gleam and all blinding white. Like the sun crashing through your window and burning you alive.
“You’re so difficult sometimes, kitten.”
You don’t answer.
He steps forward. The blindfold is gone. His eyes are visible tonight—drenched in honey, electric, too bright, too sharp. You can’t even look at them.
He tilts your chin up with two fingers, touch too light for the violence it implies.
“Tried being nice. Tried texting. Tried being patient.”
You flinch.
He leans in. You can smell his cologne—sweet, like rot beneath sugar. Cloying. Suffocating.
“You really shouldn’t make me beg.”
He drags you back into the room like a ragdoll. One arm looped lazily around your waist, the other buried in your hair, tugging hard enough to bring tears. The moment your back hits the bed, you know it’s already too late.
His belt’s undone before you can speak. His shirt’s half-off, clinging to one arm like he couldn’t be bothered to finish undressing. You catch your breath—and he laughs. A low, dangerous chuckle that turns your stomach.
“This what you wanted? To get me all riled up? Huh?” He’s stripping you like it’s a punishment. Fast, aggressive. Your clothes tear in places. You hate how practiced he is.
He pins your wrists. One hand enough to hold them above your head. The other roams down your side—too slow. Mocking.
“You look scared, baby. You should be.”
He sinks down. Kisses you like a man starved. Bites. Sucks. Leaves bruises where they’ll last longest. He murmurs filth against your skin, words laced with cruelty—mine, useless little thing, my sweet scared toy.
You try to turn your head. He grabs your jaw, forces you to look.
“No no. Don’t get shy now. You wanted this. Didn’t you? Didn’t you?”
You don’t answer. He doesn’t care.
He spreads your legs and makes a sound low in his throat. Like a growl, or maybe a laugh. You’re not sure. He tastes you like it’s a threat, tongue relentless, fingers cruel. You’re already shaking, and he hasn’t even fucked you yet.
“Always so sensitive. Little virgin heart, slut body.”
You try to squirm. He slaps your thigh. Once. Then again, harder. The sting sings through your nerves.
“Stay still.”
He doesn’t let you come. Not yet. He pulls back just when you’re close, smirking like the sadist he is, watching the tremble in your thighs with sick delight.
“Nah. You don’t get that yet.”
He lines up without warning. You don’t see it—you feel it. That stretch. That brutal snap of pain as he pushes in.
You cry out. His fingers tighten around your wrists.
“That’s it. Cry for me. Let me hear you.”
He fucks you like he owns you. Like he’s staking a claim inside your body. Deep, rough thrusts that leave you breathless, that rip sounds out of your throat you didn’t know you could make.
He doesn’t stop.
Even when you beg. Even when you sob. Even when your voice is raw and your vision’s blurry.
He grabs your face. Kisses you hard. Teeth clashing. Blood on your lip. He licks it.
“You love this. You love me. Say it.”
You shake your head.
Wrong answer.
He flips you over without breaking rhythm. Fucks you into the mattress, hair twisted in his fist. You can’t breathe. You can’t think. He won’t let you.
“Say. It.”
You choke on a sob. He slaps your ass. The sound echoes. Then again. And again.
“Say it, or I’ll keep going all night. You think I won’t? Huh? You think I won’t fuck you until you pass out in your own drool?”
You finally gasp it out. Broken. Defeated.
“I love you.”
He moans. It’s filthy. He slows down. Rolls his hips deep. Grinding. Cruel.
“Knew you’d come around, kitten. Knew you just needed some reminding.”
Your body gives out before he does. You don’t know when the sobbing turned to moaning. You don’t know when the pain blurred into something else.
You don’t remember the moment you stopped resisting.
You only remember the way he held you after.
Tight. Possessive. Gentle, in the worst possible way.
His breath in your ear.
“You’re not allowed to ignore me ever again.”
A kiss to your neck.
“I’ll break your legs if you do.”
He smiles. You cry. He licks your tears and laughs.
And for the rest of the night, you don’t sleep. You just lie there—his cock still buried inside you, his arms around you like chains—and listen to the sound of his heartbeat.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Louder than yours.
Stronger than yours.
The only rhythm left in your ruined little world.
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
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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 