[millyondollarpussy]

🕯️ YANDERE BLOG RULES 🕯️

by MillyonDollarpussy

Welcome to my yanderemenagerie. This is not your average toxicity hub with men who hate women and it’s some gaslighting “romance” (he does NOT like you sister gurl) this is heightened, romantic, obsessive fantasy vault for the women with an acquired palette. That said, here’s how we do things in my temple:

❌ NO CHEATING

If your little man is cheating, he’s not yandere—he’s just trash. A true yandere is obsessed, loyal, faithful, and pathologically unable to love anyone but you. You are his first, last, and only. If you breathe near someone else, he panics. If he breathes near someone else, he cries and self-flagellates. Cheating doesn't happen here. Don’t ask.

💸 NO BROKE ENERGY

We are not romanticizing broke, crusty men who live in the walls and ask for a ride. This is a manifestation-positive zone. We do feral abundance. Obsession and luxury are not mutually exclusive. Your yandere should be able to fund your business, buy you land, and cry on a private jet.

Also I refuse to do broke reader because I will not perpetuate a fantasy of lack. Get your identity up Queen. You have the audacity to read about men who want to do a blood pact on a crescent moon. Get your licks up.

🚫 NO CEST / NO EXTREME DARK CONTENT

This blog does not entertain incest, abuse, or exploitation. And I do not write about EDs, SA, SH, depression, or trauma porn. This is not that space. I’m here to feed the girlies who want a fantasy, not relive their worst moments. Take that ish to Twitter.

⚖️ AGE GAPS: YES, WITH BOUNDARIES

Will I write about age gaps? Yes. But never involving characters younger than 18. Ever. Unless it’s platonic. Think older reclusive heir falls for the radiant, chaotic rich girl-in-training. Daddy warbucks and bad bitch young blud. Not creepy adult preying on a child. Let's be for real.

💕 HEALTHY YANDERE ONLY (Heightened, Not Hollow)

We do love-based obsession here. Not the "I’ll chain you up because I hate women" mess. If there isn’t adoration, worship, pathetic devotion, and willingness to slit his own throat because you didn’t text back(but not in threatening way)…I don’t want it. Control without love? Boring. Toxic masculinity? Tired. Give me the guy who will kiss your feet and say, “I’ll die if you don’t marry me.”

This is the altar of unhinged, yet sacred love. We’re feeding the hoes well.

🖋️ REQUESTS I write for characters who fit the vibe:

Obsessive

Worshipful

Emotionally intense If you request something bland, generic, or emotionally flat, I will politely ignore it and go back to writing about someone whispering marriage proposals while sobbing into your laundry.

I’m not a vending machine. Requests are not guaranteed. But if you offer a soul, a lock of hair, or a particularly feral idea, you may be blessed. Writers need input too. Yuhhhh get into it in the inboxes.

CNC is on the table 🤪.

This blog is for heightened fantasy yandere, meaning:

Yes, he’s insane

Yes, he’d commit arson for you

But you are always safe in the fantasy There’s a difference between dark love and real-life danger. This space is for safe obsession, not romanticizing actual abuse. But let’s let these freak flags fly!

I will write dark stuff just don’t ask me to right objectively wrong things-

✨ MANIFESTATION-FRIENDLY UNIVERSE

This is a high-frequency blog. We love our yanderes rich, romantic, possessive, and deeply obsessed. No scrubs. No emotionally constipated men. No trauma-dumping. Only:

“I built you a house in the woods”

“Everyone thinks I’m quiet but you’re the reason I breathe”

“If you die, I die” type beat

“I would rather die than touch another woman”

“ if you die before me I’ll fall to the cradle”

Thanks Pookies, Enjoy-

Also note: I’m a full time student and CEO of startups while managing social media platforms so I’m busy- and I have a life so I’m not on here as much as I was when I was 12. Thx. 💋

[millyondollarpussy]

Sissy Sub Yandere Husband takes charge

✧・✢◌̥🪞𓈒✢◌࿙࿚࿙࿚𓈒✢◌𓈒✢꒪

You’ve had him caged.

Plugged. Pantied. Obedient. Blushing. Soft. Stupidly submissive.

Your precious little Sub Sissy Wife™.

Cooking dinner with his apron tied over lace. Cleaning in heels. This big beautiful strong man reduced down to a sex toy and domestic slave.

I call that feminism.

You’ve kept him desperate, kept him tucked, made him your good girl.

But tonight? Tonight, you’re feeling a little needy and he is so good and so beautiful and after all… he has devoted his life to being all yours.

He’s finishing the dishes, you have a housekeeper but you like to keep him humble and home trained. You’re staring at his back, muscled and perfectly arched at the bottom going to the plumpness of his ass.

“Baby.” You say softly, the way a normal woman might. That’s when he knows you’re going to ask for something special.

“You’ve been so busy all day and I feel like you need to pay attention to me now.” You say this with a pout but we all know you’re an apex predator.

He freezes. Eyes wide. His cock twitches underneath his apron, fighting against the cage you put him in for the weekend.

He’s shaking already. You’re going to realease him- but this isn’t just permission for him to make love to you.

It’s his ultimate fantasy- his wife letting him inside her while still in full sissy form.

It’s also a major turn on for you. And he knows it.

He whimpers out loud which only makes you wet at what an absolute unapologetic loser he is for you.

“I-I get to? Really? Like this? As your girl?” He looks like an absolute angel. It’s almost sinful what you’re about to do to him.

You nod. Smiling like a Cheshire Cat. Cunning and wanting.

“Yes, princess. I want your cock in me while you look exactly like this.”

He feels a bead of precum roll over his tip.

You lie back. Legs spread. Robe open. And he climbs over you slowly—nails painted, cheeks flushed, still wearing the lip gloss you kissed him in earlier.

You lift his skirt to reveal his cock pressing against the fabric of his panties.

The second you do?

He gasps.

Because it’s aching. Heavy. Leaking. Desperate.

And then… he slides in.

Carefully. Sweetly. With so much emotion behind his e

He starts slow. Shaking. Tears in his lashes.

Because it’s not just sex.

It’s permission.

It’s submission through topping.

It’s you saying: I trust you, even like this.

⸻

“Look at you. My pretty little housewife. My babygirl. With your cock in me.”

“Is my wifey going dumb? Ah poor thing is just a cumwhore isn’t she?”

“You’re making love to me like a good little girl.”

“Cum inside me. ‘want it. I want your cum while you cry.”

He tries to hold it. He does.

But he’s been teased for days.

Told he wasn’t allowed to touch.

Plugged, whimpering, humping his plushie while watching you shower.

So when he’s actually inside you, and you moan his name? It’s over. He cums like a virgin.(he was until you) Loud. Guttural. Collapsing.

Sobbing.

Repeating

“Thank you thank you thank you—”

“I love you I love you—”

“I’m your girl, I’m your girl—”

Aftercare You cradle him. Stroke his hair. Kiss his tears. He’s still trembling. Still wet between the thighs. Still leaking into you, cock softening, heart so full he might explode.

“You were perfect baby. The perfect little wifey. ‘gave me everything I wanted.”

And he just clings to you. Because he’d give you everything again. And again. And again.

He writes in his little diary with glitter gel pen after you let him top for the first time.

[millyondollarpussy]

Hcs For Yandere who loves when you spend his money

He’s not just in love he’s consumed. The kind of visceral, somatic obsession where his body reacts before his brain does: pupils blowing wide when you walk in, breath catching when your fingers brush his, a low involuntary hum in his chest when you say his name. He tracks you like you’re the center of gravity in his universe. A bloodhound. Money isn’t money to him anymore; it’s just another way to pour himself into you.

You’re in his lap on the massive leather couch in his penthouse, legs draped over his thighs, his hands possessively kneading your hips like he needs the physical proof you’re real. His phone is on the coffee table. He’s been talking about it for weeks, “I need you to have everything. No limits. I want my card in your wallet yesterday.”

He opens the banking app right there, heartbeat thudding so hard against your back you can feel it. When the confirmation screen pops up (“Authorized user added”), he exhales like he just came. I think he did. Check his pants. His arms lock around your waist, face buried in your neck, breathing you in deep and shaky. “It’s done. Everything that’s mine is yours now. Legally. Irrevocably.”

He keeps refreshing the app like he needs to see your name on his accounts over and over. That night he makes love to you slow and reverent, whispering “Mine. My money. My Goddess. All of it” against your skin with every thrust, like the authorization was foreplay.

You wake up to a black card on the pillow next to you and a note in his handwriting: Go feral Baby. I want to feel it.

The second you start spending he knows, transaction alerts hit his phone like dopamine hits. You’re in the first boutique and your phone buzzes:

Him: Fuck. Already? Good girl. Keep going. I’m so hard right now. Please.

You buy the entire rack the stylist pulled for you. $28k. Another buzz.

Him: Jesus Christ. I’m in a meeting pretending to pay attention while I’m leaking for you.

You move to jewelry, that vintage Cartier watch and the stack of gold pieces that catch the light like they were made for your skin. Another $22k. Then the custom piece they start on the spot.

Him: 65k already? Baby I’m going to ruin you tonight. I’m canceling my afternoon. Come home when you’re done so I can thank you properly.

When you finally get back, he meets you at the door like a starving man. He doesn’t even look at the bags first, he grabs your face, kisses you like he’s trying to climb inside your soul, then drops to his knees right there in the foyer. Hands shaking as he slides them up your thighs. “Let me feel how wet spoiling yourself made you.”

He eats you out like the $65k was the hottest thing you could have done for him. Later, when he’s buried inside you, he’s rambling: “Spend more tomorrow. All of it. I want my accounts to hurt for you. I want to feel every dollar like it’s your mouth on me.”

He gets a specific little moan in the back of his throat every single time a big charge posts. Sometimes he calls you immediately just to hear your voice while he processes it.

His love language is total financial surrender. He’s happiest when you’re completely thoughtless with his money, the more entitled and greedy you get, the more obsessed he becomes. It’s like crack to his nervous system.

- He tracks your location not to control you, but because knowing you’re out there burning through his accounts makes him feel claimed. “She’s out there spending my money like it’s hers” = peak erotic validation for him.

After particularly big days he gets almost subspace-y clingy, needy, wants you sitting on his face or riding him while he thanks you for ruining his net worth.

He doesn’t just want you to spend his money. He wants the act of you spending it to be the most intimate thing between you. Every charge feels like you’re touching him. Every zero added to a receipt feels like you’re tightening around him.

You own him. Viscerally. Somatically. Financially. Completely. And he begs you never to stop.

[millyondollarpussy]

JJK x Powerful Misandrist?????? She hates men but she’s powerful because of it???

[millyondollarpussy]

Tell me why I was just in my dojo(I do martial arts) and it was empty so a man said, “there’s no parties. It’s not even Juneteenth…. Juneteenth is such a stupid holiday.”

Like wtf?

Saying Juneteenth is unimportant is like saying the Fourth of July is. America was free from the French but African Americans weren’t free from anyone. What a lowlife piece of shit comment.

[millyondollarpussy]

You’re both in the bedroom after another luxurious spending day. He’s already deep in sub space wearing the expensive pale pink lingerie you bought with his card, makeup a little smudged from worshipping you earlier, caged and plugged, kneeling at your feet. You tell him you want to fuck him tonight… but you’re nervous. The strap feels awkward on your body, unfamiliar, a little uncomfortable. You admit it quietly.

“I’m… a little nervous.”

It’s not like you don’t want to fuck the life out of him. But even doms need a little reassurance.

His reaction is immediate and visceral. His eyes light up with pure adoration and hunger. He rises up on his knees, wraps his arms around your waist, and presses his face into your stomach. “Baby… Goddess. You don’t have to be perfect. You are- I just need you inside me. Use me. I’ll make it good for you.” His voice is already shaky with subspace. The fact that you’re nervous only makes him more obsessed, you’re choosing to claim him even when it’s new and uncomfortable for you.

The fact that you want him despite your discomfort is unraveling and he’s already leaking.

He takes the lead on making it easy for you without topping from the bottom. He’s never been pegged either but he’s fingered himself enough times to the thought of you to be amped. He helps you adjust the harness straps himself, kissing every inch of skin as he tightens them. Soft murmurs the whole time, “You look so fucking hot like this… even if it feels weird, you’re still my Goddess.” He picks a beginner-friendly dildo (not too big, the pretty one you chose together) and lubes everything generously while telling you exactly how much he wants this.

“Mmph mommy please I need you~”

He spends extra time warming himself up on his fingers and a smaller toy first, moaning your name so you can see how badly his body craves you. Every moan is reassurance: this is turning him on more than anything. Your slight discomfort makes him leak in his cage, his cock twitching against his pelvis the power exchange feels even more real.

Before you even start, he pulls you down for slow, grounding kisses. “We can stop anytime. But I promise I’m going to love every second of you fucking me. This is the hottest thing you could ever do.” His large hands regulating you… before you destroy him.

When you finally push inside him for the first time, he lets out this broken, guttural moan that vibrates through his whole body. His eyes widening in shock and surreal pleasure. His back arches, fingers gripping the sheets, thighs trembling. The stretch, the fullness, you- it sends him spiraling into the deepest subspace yet. “Fuck- aAghn- baby please_ you’re inside me… you’re actually fucking your puppy…” His voice cracks.

He’s hyper-focused on you. Even while getting railed, he’s checking in between moans: “Is it okay, baby? Does the harness feel alright?” The more nervous or awkward you feel, the more he praises and worships, reaching back to spread himself wider for you, pushing back onto the strap eagerly so you don’t have to do all the work. Acting like such a slut. He wants this to feel good for you as much as him.

His somatic reactions are insane. Full-body shivers every time you bottom out. His caged cock drips steadily onto the expensive sheets. He keeps repeating filthy, loving mantras, more manic words than anything. “I’m your girl… I’m your good girl mommy I promise- your expensive little fucktoy… ruin me-” his brain is melting.

You find your rhythm and he loses it. The more confident you get (even if you’re still a little uncomfortable in the harness), the louder and needier he becomes. He starts babbling in that floaty subspace voice “Ughnnn- Harder if you want… please… I don’t deserve your cock but I need it…” Tears of overwhelming pleasure and humiliation leak from the corners of his eyes, smudging his mascara beautifully.

The second you pull out he’s on you, spinning around to bury his face between your legs or against your chest, whichever you want. He’s shaking, clingy, and overwhelmingly grateful. “Thank you… thank you for fucking me… even when it felt weird for you. I love you so much.” He’ll kiss the harness, your thighs, anywhere he can reach.his fingers twitching and legs shaking. He wants to be inside of you again sooo bad.

Even though you fucked him raw he’s the one that wants to take care of you. He draws you a bath, massages wherever the strap pressed uncomfortably, brings you snacks and water, all while still dressed up and leaking. He stays in soft sissy mode, calling himself your “well-fucked girl” and asking if you’ll do it again soon.

Im a hoe

[millyondollarpussy]

Yandere suitor! He so nervous! He wants to make eye contact and but he can’t, as often as he meets your eyes he breaks it. It’s funny seeing such a man in such disposition.

“I brought you something. I know people act like first dates are… well let me just give it to you.”

He pulls up a bag that he’s had at the side of him under the table. It’s glossy. The height about the same as a champagne bottle. A white bag.

And he gently pushes it toward you on the table.

Him being able to convince you to go out with him is worthy of compensation I suppose.

You tilt the top of the bag towards you, peeking inside, and what you see is… well a few things.

There’s four boxes.

“I didn’t want to go overkill- but I wanted to get you something nice.” He smiles

You take out the first box and it’s Cartier. You look at him almost stunned and he just blushes.

You open it to see a love bracelet. Classic model , paved , 10 diamonds. You already have one but an addition to the stack never hurts.

You continue to open the other boxes and they get more intricate. Some are vintage Dutch’s and Portuguese pieces. Beautifully handcrafts memoires of lives you’ll never know and he brings them as gifts for a first date.

This is just the beginning.

[millyondollarpussy]

Yandere stepbrothers best friend! Your stepbro has his own place yet has somehow claimed a room at your house and it’s like… okay

Yandere brothers bestfriend! who doesn’t think he’s going to care for you, coming over to your house with your brother to hang out when he asks about you and your brother just says, “she’s cool.”

Who walks into the house and as he looking around he spots you… and it’s the end and the beginning.

“Hi….” He says while staring at you like you’re a nymph he just found in the forest.

You look up, “hey there, you’re (H/ n)?”

He nods, “yeah, uh your (y/N)?”

You nod “mhm”

Yandere brothers bsf! He comes over all the time under the pretense of hanging out but you start to catch on. He’s very obvious. To you at least.

His eyes always trail you to the point of discomfort. He’s attractive and tall and it’s uncanny.

If you are grabbing something from the kitchen he happens to be grabbing some pretzels or something.

He has like an instinct for you. He can feel you in the floorboards.

You could be doing anything and he’s there.

When your mom questions him or he talks about him self he always looks to you to see if you care, especially when the convo is about girls. “No- no, I’m waiting for the right woman.” He says like an upstanding young man but he side eyes you.

As time goes on he starts asking you more questions. You likes, wants-

“So do you like anyone? Celebrity crushes or anything.” He says while smiling

You look up at him from your bowl of captain crunch.

“No.” And go back to eating

He fists himself to the thought of you in his dorm.

He feels like you were made for each other and honestly… he’s going to make sure you are.

[millyondollarpussy]

Unfortunately for your stalker you’re funny as fuck. Well at least I am.

You come home and in less than five minutes your on a tangent, “and I told her shittake Benihana teriyaki and this bitch wasn’t getting it”(scary movie quote) you clap your hands to your cat. She stares up at you.

He’s in the corner of your house. In your sun room listening, and he has to clasp his hands over his mouth because this is not the time to get caught.

Your talks to your cats and to yourself could honestly make you the next Katt Williams but you just do the standup for your everyday honestly.

He never knew that stalking you was going to be this hard.

[millyondollarpussy]

Yandere Worshipper x Fem!Darling CNC

Not proofread. Dubcon?

He’s tried everything. He’s tried being the nice guy, the patient guy, the considerate non overbearing “I’ll let her come to me” guy, but no matter what he does you will not take the bait.

He’s been sooo good for so long and he deserves this doesn’t he? He’s everything you want, he knows he is, you must know that he is, so why do you deny him destiny every goddamn day? Can’t you see he was made for you and you were born for him to worship?

He didn’t want to come off arrogant or entitled but here you are.

Spread out across his bed, panties somewhere he’s saving for later, his nightstand drawer or tossed off somehwere to the side that he’ll be able to retrieve with swiftness and ease.

He’s got your legs spread and cunt on full display, his hand wrapped around your ankle having pulled you open.

Before you know it your left leg is hiked over his shoulder and he is fully fucking you. You don’t know how you got here, you only know it’s happening.

He fucking you like a desperate animal, like something that’s finally being born and dying at the same time, like he’s going to cry and cum too fast, like he’s so sad it’s taken so long and he’s fucking reveling in the fact that he finally gets his slice of heaven.

You’re fucked out beyond belief, I mean my god this man is packed and you hadn’t realized you were just as desperate as he was to fuck. You’re a busy woman, you are building companies, planning IPOs, catching flights to china, dealing with competition and policies, you never actually had time to think about fucking some guy… even if he was a 6’5 Olympian nymph who has been begging and willing to literally snap someone’s neck for your attention. It hadn’t really crossed your mind to pay any attention to him outside of the general realm of being acquaintances.

So how you ended up being pressed against his feather soft, charcoal colored, 600 thread count, GOTS certified, organic cotton sheets while being fucked into oblivion and realizing in a moment of waining consciousness that they’re 100% the ones you posted on your instagram-… is beyond you. Must be coincidence, they really are great sheets.

Anyway, back to the elephant in the room, he is fucking you liked he’s trying to weave himself into your womanhood, like if he does this well enough, you’ll never be able to get rid of him again. You won’t- but he would prefer for you to finally consent to seeing him again and not having to essentially do a seance to lure you into his abode.(he would kill thirty men in the woods if it meant he could get a date with you)

His tip it prodding your g-spot over and over again and it feels like everything you could ever want, like lifting a weight and pressing against a problem that’s been looming in your womb for ages, it aches and burns from how long it’s been there and it’s bliss to finally be relieved.

“Tell me you love me” he says hands taking purchase on your hips, holding so tight you know even out of coherence that you’re going to be sore tomorrow- if there is one.

“T-tell Me that you love me (y/n)”

You can’t even think right now and he really thinks you’re gonna blab that out? What a loser.

Your lack of communication sends him over and you feel and his upper body presses against you folding you farther against yourself granting him deeper entrance into you. He’s basically in your intestines at this point and it’s the most unimaginably pleasurable position you’ve ever found yourself in in any scenario. Your mouth opens for your too longly kept moans to escape and that’s almost as much a confession as “I love you.” It’s a signal, and he takes it.

Looking at it you wouldn’t know where he pulled up all this energy from, from the beginning he’s looked like someone who just got done with a mirdee and has to go home to shake it off, except the only thing he was shaking off was your bra, no he’s got all his energy up again and he’s fucking tou with a possession like pace. Anyone watching would say he was some kind of warlock who had conjured up the spirit he had been harboring in his left ball sack. Now here it is.

His hand come up to your face, both palms covering your cheeks completely, his fingers gripping you like a helmet, good thing because it’s felt like your entire brain has been spilling on the floor since you got here and it hasn’t been because of any substances.

He’s looking you straight in the eye and he’s drills himself over and over deeper and deeper within you. You see the tears welling up in his eyes, he’s about to cum or confess, probably both. Seeing him actually tips you off and before you can have a moment to think about it, you’re cumming. You let out a war cry. Your head tilting back into the power of his hands, him holding onto you like he’s trying to harness your energy and you feel yourself sucking him in deeper, pulsing around him like a siphon, draining him of everything he is, was, and ever will be. Everything he’s been keeping in for ages.

And with great relief you let go, your cunt flushes and sprays him and the sheets with your essence which only turns you on more.

He can’t believe it, this is the greatest day of his entire life and he cums instantly, you hear him let out a sound that’s honestly like the horns of heaven.

His body collapses on you but he makes sure not to crush you, just keep you under him.

Your chest heaves against him, you cunt still twitching and clasping him.

You barely have a second to feel your body again before he’s kissing gently between your breasts and cupping your face to kiss your lips.

“I love you. I love you so much.”

You still aren’t sure if you like him or not.

[millyondollarpussy]

Hii! I’d absolutely love another part of the rich husband yandere headcanons. I don’t have any specific scenario in mind, I just want a bit more of him. It would be really interesting if he also had elements of the Yandere! BF-Husband who always includes you!!

Honestly, I found the two pretty similar, including this part from YANDERE! RICH HUSBAND:

“1. that you are in the house and make the home an altar to your taste and being. And 2. that you let him live there with you and pay all the bills. Seems like a pretty good deal to me.”

It’s simply wonderful, this trope completely won me over with those two lines haha.

Oh he does- I wrote the two in a similar state

YANDERE RICH HUSBAND X RICH WIFE

Hcs 🫪

˚꩜ He never wants you to worry or have any negative feeling toward money. No stress or dilemma. But you are the head of household ands you’ve given him the privilege to be able to handle some of your finances. He’s like a finsub. A big dumb(incredibly intelligent) finance bro turned your bitch.

Horrible predicament.

˚꩜ If he’s not with you he’s figuring out how to make more money for you. You create businesses and art and products he loves that stocks and bonds bs.

˚꩜ He’ll rub your feet while watching the news and making comments on new stocks you two should invest in,

˚꩜ “The Dow Jones is down .4% which is fine it’s not like it affects us but I have been hearing some news on some data energy infrastructure companies that are going to skyrocket soon. I already talked to Nina(your broker- women and women first) and she’s set up an appointment for tomorrow.”

˚꩜ Or he gets turned on by making you more money and dorking out about candlesticks (finance) and the stocks that you had invested in before a surge.

˚꩜ “Last year we were right in Marvell Technology, AMD, and Broadcom. “

˚꩜ Before you’d met he worked in finance(of course) he ether worked for a VC firm or as a startup engineer with some side gigs he liked to do for sport.

˚꩜ He’s tall and has muscles that he will let you chew on while he scrolls his phone reading big tech ceos X statements to see what they’re saying and see if they are insinuating anything.

His entire life consists of two things -

1. Her royal divine majesty(you)

2. Money

˚꩜ He golfs sometimes. But it’s not even like the way other guys are obsessed with golf it’s just for the visuals of it which is funny because he’s actually very good.

˚꩜ You like to put on a skort and tennis bracelets and go to the turfs. You end up doing some fuck ass score board “golf” match that’s really you just swinging it wherever or- you really lock in.

˚꩜ Vacations are interesting because it includes him on the phone with your concierge company for 45 minutes streamlining the entire experience as if you don’t already pay a ghastly retainer for these people to do it.

˚꩜ You have an assistant and housekeepers to do the tasks like ironing and packing your bags but he insists on being the one to plan your outfits around your excavations and dinners.

˚꩜ He has you try some things on and sets up your tripod so you can record your content for your followers. (He will most likely be editing all that content on the plan to wherever you’re going.)

˚꩜ Airports are your favorite because he becomes like an emotional support animal/security guard/dad. You don’t have to do shit. No bag carrying or holding on to passports or anything. His job is everything and to make sure you get your snacks and to the centurion lounge safely. His payment is the pics you’ll post on insta and you holding his hand through terminal.

All in all- wife him up.

[millyondollarpussy]

Reblogging because 34 likes is criminal

[millyondollarpussy]

Yandere Painter x Muse HCS

Yandere Painter!Male x Fem!Muse

Not proofread.

You had met him coincidentally at a cafe in a smaller down in the south of France. You were there for pleasure. Leisurely spending your days indulging in sunshine and the delicacies France has to offer.

You’re sitting in the courtyard of a beautiful hotel cafe when you spot each other.

He’s a mature gentleman, eccentric more than gentle I suppose. Unruly hair, a sooty look that comes with years of charcoal painting. He sees you and from across the yard you can visibly see his eyes widen and his face express a state of pure shock.

That day you ended up walking the estate you were staying at and being invited to his, as well as his studio in the city.

You become his muse from the moment he is eyes set upon you. You are the incarnation of every moment of inspiration he has ever experience. The refined expression of the abstract creations he has produced over the years of his career. You are the manifestation of his madness and he must witness you as much as possible.

He sends letters. Yes, he is a man of the ages and he loves to write you letters. The only time you would ever possibly receive a message from him digitally would be one from one of his assistants requesting your presence.

His letters use an arrangement of the materials he keeps in the studio and ever letter has a sketch. One that would be akin to one that Van Gogh would scribble on a napkin that would go from six figures. Honestly he is such a kind soul for sending you assets on the daily.

When you are together he is manic. He must have you in every light. Every angle every moment and possible setting. You as an empress, you as flowers, you as the river nile. The starts, the moons, all of Olympia.

He was never a man of god. Although He was a man who seemed to be the right hand of god given his skill. And he used any gifts given to him to elevate and immortalize you. You become the only thing he comes to paint.

He wants the world to memorialize you and worship you through their worship of his craftsmanship. You are his god and he must consecrate you into the context of history.

You are in his studio and all you can hear are his heavy exhales and at time curses.

You go on walks and he goes on rants of his ideas of captivating you into the canvas.

his accent thick as the acrylic he uses.

Anytime a friend or associate comes or goes through the studio they can see he is solely focused upon you.

He gives offhanded comments or answers tot hem. Not even a gaze in there direction unless it’s one that expresses “go now.”

All the days he spends with you are always compensated. As many letters as he sends you, gifts follow, the days he spends with you are followed by dinners or intermissions by shopping in the city. He buys you gems and jewels in exchange for painting you with them on.

He uses your life stories and plans to mythologize you. To create the concepts of his art. If you share a story of child hood he is able to translate it into a work of feeling into a canvas.

He hates art shows. He’s a hermit at best but as a worshipper he now feels for the first time in his life the necessity to go and explain the depths of methodology used to express you.

It’s the first time the public has ever seen him seem in the realm of humans.

Your days in Paris or in Europe for the matter never go without notice to him. You could be in Spain for a deal or shoot and you’ll receive a letter sent to your hotel room and when you go to scan it you instantly recognize his hand writing.

It’s always something so devoted and demented:

“My Darling, it has been so long since I have seen you. You must come relish me in your presence. I must see you. I had a vision the night before last. It was you in sapphire. The background images of lust and devotion.

I miss you so.

Only yours, X”

And with it a box with a sapphire necklace.

I’m a woman of color(so the image is supposed to be inclusive!!!!!!!!!) colored women unite-

I think I entered flow state with this one. Let me know if I ate down or nah.

[millyondollarpussy]

Your writing is absolutely amazing, I adore every work you've ever posted <3

AHAHAHAHHAAMUAHAJAOAKJEKALL

Yippeee yipeeee

Thank you thank you thank you

Smooches 💋

[millyondollarpussy]

I’m gonna fuck up some pancakes in the morning

[millyondollarpussy]

I re-read your rule list and since Cnc and age gaps are on the table, could we have a sub yandere kidnapper? You’ve know about him for a while and he’s more of a nuisance than an actual threat. That’s until you wake up on silk sheets(that aren’t yours) with him in between your legs begging to please you. Could you really blame him? You were just too much of a baddie for your own good. He HAD to snatch you up. Literally! 💋

Sub Yandere Kidnapper x FEM!Darling

Not proofread

You were used to people watching you. You were brilliant and beautiful. A natural attractor.

You also knew that he was more annoying than others, always on the outskirts watching a little more closely and intentionally than everyone else. He was like a scarecrow. But you never thought the motherfucker would kidnap you.

━━━

You feel your consciousness regaining. You’ve never been someone who’s had hangovers so this is an unfamiliar feeling.

Chemical.

It takes moments for you to really gain awareness of where you’re at and then you can tell instantly it’s somewhere you’ve never been before.

Your eyes paving the ceiling and walls until you feel the silk sliding under your frantic fingers.

Your legs naturally retract trying to scope out what’s happening when you feel something blocking them. You look down and see him.

His arms wrapped around your legs, eyes gazing up at you with awe and hysteria.

It’s not like you had hated the guy.

Well you did- but in the way you hate all men. He wasn’t anything special. He just thought you were.

Now here you are in what you assume to be his bedroom.

You can see just from the get go that it’s a luxurious place. Masculine but the details are refined. The enamel on the walls and the finishes. Everything looks well invested into. Regardless of where you are you know for sure that he has as much money as you had initially expected just from the few glances you took at him.

“Baby-“ his face is pressed against the inside of you leg, his fingers gently caressing you.

“Are you feeling okay? Does your head hurt? I didn’t use to much did I?”

You don’t even know what to do right now.

Scream? Pin him between you legs? Fight?

You can see his chest filling and his heavy exhales.

Is he breathing you in?

Your legs are wide open and he has direct access the any waft of heat coming off of you.

His lower body is pressed against the mattress and his legs are splayed out like he’s ready to dive in already.

“I- Hh -“ your voice cuts, you don’t if you should cry or yell.

His eyes pounce up to yours, you can see the guilt in his eyes, his body instantly repositions. his hand regaining hold on you. Like he’s consoling you. Comforting you for your loss.

“Baby, baby, baby- shh no, no, no, it’s okay. I-_ this isn’t what you think it is, I would never hurt you.” He quickly quips out like that’s going to help you.

Your breath rises and you take in a shaky breath.

“Shh it’s okay baby I know, it’s been a stressful day for you. Why don’t you let me take it all away?” He kisses the inside of you leg.

He continues in a rant. It seems like he’s regretful not for taking you, but for what it took to get you here.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry I did what I did but I had to. i had to. I can take care of you. I can prove it. Please let me. I’ll be so good. I can do whatever you want me to just- just let me love you please-_ that’s all I want.” His voice wains at the end. He’s getting desperate already.

His eyes glance back up at you glassy.

“I just-“ a sharp exhale through his nose, “I’m sorry baby.” His voice is strained and whined.

He kisses your knee again.

“I didn’t want to but I needed you to see we’re meant to be together.” He says with a cry finally escaping him.

You feel you body welling up too. You don’t really understand what the fuck is happening, but you know that something is being taken. Maybe your life from the world at least, if not from the living.

In an effort you comfort yourself you lean back against the pillows trying to regulate yourself. Trying to prevent a panic attack.

Wrong move.

He looks up at you, eyes full and nose stuffy from crying. He wants to please you so badly, to show you that he can.

He takes this as you wanting him to help you. To release this pent up energy.

Before you know it his hands are around your pants and he’s tugging them down.

“Hhua- wH-“ you immediately tear your eyes down to him and he looks up to you. Like asking permission.

You’re lightly aroused and this is all wrong.

━━━

He’s been going at it for a while now. You’ve cum at least three times but who’s keeping count when all you can hear is his crying amidst your moans. His hands planted on your hips. You can feel the guilt and craving in his tongue strokes. Feel them in the tears that are sliding down into your slick.

It’s a lot but I guess it’s good that most of it feels good too.

Everytime you’ve come he’s said thank you and apologized. Like he’s so sorry he gets to finally eat the food of the gods he’s been sacrificing at the altar for for ages.

You can hear and feel the little breaths he sucks in through his mouth because his nose is clogged. His breathlessness but overbearing need to consume you. It’s all around a pathetic sight and if he weren’t so good at devouring your pussy you would be disgusted.

Maybe you still are but that can be dealt with tomorrow.

Ummmmm….. did I eat or no? This is my first fic like this

[millyondollarpussy]

Hey so this might come across as slightly rude but uhm. Could you please actually state in the like "type! character x reader" the intended gender of the reader, I don't wanna block you (unless you do intend to only write fem readers) but I also don't wanna go into something thinking I'm gonna have a good time and then get misgendered (again idk if my wording is good here) again sorry if this is rude (the 12 billion tags mentioning girlhood really should've gotten my hopes down)

Majorly confused by this whole this but in short:

I write for women and women only. Pussy power. Queen Queef.

Motherfuckers be like:

“I don’t mean to be rude and I don’t want to block YOU but uhm- 👉👈😣 I’ll have to if you write for women because I don’t want to be misgendered” …. I get gender identity is a thing but like…. What it offensive about femininity? Anyway yes I write for women only.

[millyondollarpussy]

Just read be the man and now i NEED the sub version of him

Girl you can do whatever you want to him omg-

The only he dommed you is because you were in control of the operation. He is a natural worshipper. A zealot. You are the doctrine and he is the prophet.

This man will chew your food for you if you want(I’m a freaky hoe and love this)

He will let you Gag him, choke him, burn him, pull his hair, cage hip, brand him, lock him in a kennel. He will meow, bark, whine, mewl, murder-

This man is an affront to humanity when it comes to his tendencies to your pleasure. Your wish is quite literally his command and he quite literally would be disappointed in himself if you had to actually vocalize your wish because he should be able to read your mind…. Like, duh, he’s your good boy and good boys know what their mistress needs before she says anything.

He loves when you make him an inanimate object in your life. Yes make him a footstool as you watch a trading video or read Bloomberg after a long day. Use him as a sushi board to delight yourself in NOBU delivery. He shouldn’t get to speak for the next hour, you need to have alone time.

I like latex. The idea is appealing. Having a 6’5 mammoth of a man be completely subdued in a synthetic shield is more than arousing in multiple regards. Sedated and subjugated to my every whim. He wants it more than you do honestly. The absolute submission sends him into a frenzy.

He wants to come out the other side as nothing short or more than completely yours. And as a ward of your will you can do anything you want with him. And I mean anything.

Submission ain’t just an act or a role in a bsdm scene, it’s the prioritization of your pleasure and ultimately the energy he invests into sex is solely for you to reach ecstasy. The submission is submitting his body as a conduit for your release. He wants to give you everything he’s got and take anything you are willing and begging to give.

He wants to give you everything he’s sensation the womb-an body can positively feel and tenfold.

Sex is ceremony and every role or scene is ritual for him. He wants to be apart of every moment of your presence and becoming and the fact that you use his body and mind as talisman and tools in the ritual that is you? Mind boggling and brilliant in all regards.

He just wants to be the toool you use to bring yourself to an elevated state. Or not, he’s fine being a degenerate for you as well. 💋