𝐆𝐨𝐝'𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭

Some women play hard to get. You play impossible to afford.

♡ Yandere! DILF’s x Fem. Reader. Sugar Daddy, Old Money, Professor, Sponsor

♡ Headcanons. Midas Eyes – Part 1

♡ Word Count. 1,916

You learned early on that the world was cruel.

No, really, you learned it at four years old when your mother sold you for a pack of cheap cigarettes and a crumpled fifty-dollar bill to a greasy landlord who smelled like mothballs and desperation. He took one look at your wide, galaxy-stained eyes, eyes that had already started to carry that otherworldly sheen, and promptly died of a stroke before he could even touch you. The police called it a tragic accident. Your mother called it a waste of fifty dollars. You called it a Tuesday.

You were shuffled into the system after that. Foster homes, group homes, shelters—hell itself would’ve had more warmth. But that’s where you learned the first rule of survival: if you can’t fight it, learn to use it. You were tired of people looking at you like a piece of meat. Tired of the unwanted hands, the constant stares, the whispering in dark corners about how you “glowed like an angel.” You hated it. Hated that your eyes could make anyone do what you wanted, that they could turn even the most self-righteous into a desperate, panting fool.

But you also hated starving. And cold. And the feeling of powerlessness even more than you hated your ability.

So you made a choice: if the world wanted to use you, you’d use it first.

By thirteen, you had learned to control it. To turn it on and off at will. To make people see what you wanted them to see. You were a ghost in the system, slipping through cracks, taking what you needed, and leaving before anyone could remember your name. Some nights you’d practice in the mirror, staring at yourself until your pupils bled into cosmic chaos, until the universe itself seemed to shift in your gaze. You named it “The Midas Eyes.” Because everything you saw—everything you wanted—was yours.

By sixteen, you had tasted money, real money. Not the pocket change from pickpocketing or the damp bills from scamming local creeps, but real wealth. Luxury. High society. It started with a bet. Some bloated banker had looked down on you from his too-expensive car, and you’d made him hand over his Rolex with a single glance. A week later, you had an entire stock portfolio under your name. A month after that, you had real estate. The world bent over backward for you, and you made sure to squeeze every last dime out of it.

But money alone wasn’t enough. You wanted power. Control. A safety net so thick that even the universe itself couldn’t shake it.

So you learned the second rule of survival: play the role they expect.

If people wanted a dumb, submissive slut, then that’s what you’d be. You let them think they were buying you, when in reality, you were buying them. Men who thought they were the hunters quickly found themselves devoured. You became an investment, a commodity with a price tag so high that only the richest could afford a taste. A model. A cam girl. A prostitute. A luxury escort. You didn’t just sell sex—you sold power, exclusivity.

You became a myth in elite circles, a legend whispered behind closed doors.

“She only takes billionaires.”

“She can make you do anything.”

“She’s dangerous.”

You reveled in it. If they wanted a goddess, you’d be a goddess. If they wanted a pet, you’d leash yourself until it tightened around their throat instead. You didn’t care about love, relationships, or any of that sentimental trash. You loved one thing, and one thing only: money.

And now, you had your sights set on the next step up the food chain.

Not just any rich men. The richest. The most powerful. The ones who controlled the world’s wealth like gods playing chess.

You’d already caught their attention. You could feel it, sense the way they watched from the shadows, sizing you up like a meal, thinking they were the predators.

You smiled.

They had no idea who they were dealing with.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Sugar Daddy who’s the human equivalent of a Wall Street crash—volatile, erratic, and absolutely lethal to anyone who underestimates him.

♡ Yandere! Sugar Daddy who made his first billion by accident. It was supposed to be a scam. A joke. A fun little side hustle that somehow spiraled into an empire overnight. He didn’t mean to disrupt the global market, but oops. Here he was.

♡ Yandere! Sugar Daddy who still doesn’t quite understand how he got here, only that money feels like a game and he’s very, very good at playing it. He thrives on chaos. He doesn’t invest; he gambles. He doesn’t plan; he improvises. He doesn’t think things through, but somehow, miraculously, it always works out.

♡ Yandere! Sugar Daddy who is both a genius and a complete menace to society. If there’s a rule, he breaks it. If there’s a limit, he tests it. If there’s a way to make money off something, he’s already done it—twice.

♡ Yandere! Sugar Daddy who meets you at a high-stakes poker game, where billionaires bet islands and countries instead of money. He’s bored out of his mind. Then you walk in.

♡ Yandere! Sugar Daddy who watches you clean out the entire table in less than an hour, methodically breaking men apart with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You fascinate him. Not just because you’re beautiful, but because you’re dangerous. Because your Midas Eyes meet his, and for the first time in his life, he feels like prey.

♡ Yandere! Sugar Daddy who watches, enraptured, as you make a man sign away his company with nothing but a glance and a well-placed touch. Who leans forward when you finally turn your attention to him, a slow, assessing look that makes his breath catch. Who grins, wild and reckless, because he can already tell—you’re going to ruin him, and he’s going to let you.

———

♡ Yandere! Old Money who comes from a line of men who have never known the taste of failure. Who were born at the top and will die at the top, because that’s how the world works.

♡ Yandere! Old Money who was raised with a silver spoon in his mouth and a dagger in his back. Who learned from an early age that emotions are weaknesses, that sentimentality is a disease, that control is the only currency that matters.

♡ Yandere! Old Money who does not ask. He takes. He dominates. He bends the world to his will, because it has never occurred to him that it could be any other way.

♡ Yandere! Old Money who meets you long before you’re anything. When you’re still clawing your way up, bleeding and starving and feral. He sees the potential. The raw, untamed brilliance lurking beneath your calculated indifference.

♡ Yandere! Old Money who decides, on a whim, to train you. To refine you. To mold you into something worthy of his attention. He does not coddle. He does not nurture. He sharpens you like a blade and throws you into the fire, watching with satisfaction as you come out harder, colder, more lethal.

♡ Yandere! Old Money who realizes, too late, that he has created something he cannot control. That the little girl he shaped into a weapon now turns those razor-sharp edges back on him. That you are no longer a student but an equal. A rival. A threat.

♡ Yandere! Old Money who watches, with a mixture of pride and something far darker, as you carve out your own empire. Who finds himself drawn to you in ways that make no logical sense. Who wants to possess you, to own you, to bring you back under his control—but knows, deep down, that you would rather burn the world than belong to anyone but yourself.

———

♡ Yandere! Professor who is both an enigma and a monster. The kind of man who speaks in riddles and thinks in labyrinths, who sees ten steps ahead and moves accordingly.

♡ Yandere! Professor who is a scholar, a historian, a philosopher—but also a thief, a manipulator, a man who collects secrets the way others collect art.

♡ Yandere! Professor who teaches at the most prestigious university in the world, not because he cares about education, but because it gives him access to the minds of the next generation. Because knowledge is power, and power is everything.

♡ Yandere! Professor who meets you when you enroll in his class under a false name, slipping into his lecture hall like a shadow. Who notices you immediately—not because of your beauty, but because of your silence. Because you sit in the back, watching, calculating, dissecting his every word like you’re searching for weakness.

♡ Yandere! Professor who finds himself intrigued. Who starts testing you, pushing you, setting traps just to see if you’ll spring them. Who watches, delighted, as you navigate his mind games with the ease of someone who has spent their entire life playing a much deadlier version.

♡ Yandere! Professor who realizes, too late, that he has become obsessed. That he lingers on your name longer than he should. That he rewatches security footage just to see the way you move. That he dreams of you, of your Midas Eyes, of what it would feel like to have you look at him like that.

♡ Yandere! Professor who knows, deep down, that you are playing him just as much as he is playing you—but does not care. Because for the first time in his life, he has met someone worthy of the game.

———

♡ Yandere! Sponsor who is quiet, calculating, and impossibly dangerous. The kind of man who does not waste words, who does not make idle threats, who does not hesitate.

♡ Yandere! Sponsor who grew up in the underbelly of society, in the kind of places that eat the weak and spit out the strong. Who fought his way out with nothing but his fists and a mind sharper than any blade.

♡ Yandere! Sponsor who does not trust easily. Who does not give freely. Who does not believe in kindness, because he has never been given any.

♡ Yandere! Sponsor who meets you when you come looking for a backer, someone to fund whatever grand scheme you’ve concocted this time. Who listens as you lay out your plans with the cold precision of a woman who has never known failure.

♡ Yandere! Sponsor who sees the hunger in your eyes, the same hunger that once burned in his. Who recognizes a kindred spirit, a fellow survivor, a wolf disguised as a lamb.

♡ Yandere! Sponsor who decides, in that moment, that he will back you. That he will give you what you need. That he will watch, from the shadows, as you rise higher and higher, knowing that every step you take brings you closer to him.

♡ Yandere! Sponsor who does not ask for repayment. Who does not demand gratitude. Who does not claim ownership. But who watches. Who waits. Who bides his time, knowing that one day, you will realize that he is the only one who truly understands you.

♡ Yandere! Sponsor who will be there when that day comes. Who will catch you when you finally fall. Who will remind you that some debts can never be repaid—only collected.

———

Because you may be the predator now.

But sooner or later, every predator meets something hungrier.

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “Whispers In The Dark”: @keisocool , @elvabeth , @elloredef , @mjsjshhd , @lem-hhn , @yuki-istired , @lilyalone , @starryperson , @yandreams-storageblog , @tiffyisme3760 , @songbirdgardensworld , @yune1337 , @mocalocha , @astreaaaaaa6 , @poopooindamouf , @yandereaficionado , @esther-kpopstan , @iris-arcadia

❤︎ 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 [you are here]. 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. 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.