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blues-writing-adventures · 3 years ago

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mine, and mine only.

yandere! millionaire x partner! reader

tw: possessive themes, implied nsfw, gore && violence,, your bf might just be homicidal,, whoops !!

“gimme a twirl, sweetheart.” your boyfriend hums, rests his chin in the palms of his hands as he gazes at you through golden eyes etched with utter adoration. “w’nna see you from every angle, hm?”

you roll your eyes at his words, even when a breathy laugh punctuates your own. “you’ve already seen that, kenji.”

“only in the dark.” he quips, raises an eyebrow knowingly. “besides, it’s not like you’re always squirming ‘round beneath me or anythin’—”

“fine!!” you cut him off before he can say anything else, try to ignore the way your bodyguards awkwardly avert their gaze. one clears his throat, and you flush. kenji is as unbothered as ever, his attention still solely trained on you.

nevertheless, you oblige his request with a silly little spin on the tips of your toes. your boyfriend’s gaze lingers on your face, a slow smile spreading on his lips when he drops his eyes to the rest of your body, takes you in for everything you are: “you’re fuckin’ gorgeous, and all mine.”

there’d been one before him, your ex. but you didn’t need to worry your pretty head about that — kenji had ripped off a finger for all the times he’d tainted you with his dirty touch, pulled out his teeth for all the conversations he’d gotten to share with you.

it was his heart — however, that your boyfriend enjoyed depriving him of most. the heart that had once held a sick semblance of love for you.

that was in the past, though. your ex was long gone, kenji had made sure of that personally. now, it was only you and him, and he intended on it staying that way.

“i gotta be the luckiest bastard in the world to have you all to myself.” he whistles lowly, feels his heart pounding in his chest, as it always does whenever you’re around. and even when you aren’t, because you’re all he ever thinks about. “fuck, baby. c’mere, will you?”

“shut up! you think you’re so slick with your stupid words!” you laugh, feigning indifference at his saccharine words but still stumbling into his outstretched arms as he pulls you onto his lap. “you flatter me way too much, kenny.”

your boyfriend’s a busy man, running the biggest private security agency in asia. his work is the only reason you get to don such pretty silk skirts and rose quartz chokers. well, that - and his insistence for seeing you all dolled up.

but the fact that he’s willing to drop everything he’s doing, just to rush home to you and whisk you away on a spontaneous shopping spree after hearing you felt under the weather?

“that’s my job, babydoll, i’m your boyfriend.” he presses a quick kiss to your jaw, revels in the way you melt into his touch, as he curls an arm around your waist. “besides, can you really blame me when y’look so utterly ravishin’?”

“i hate you.” you grin, loving the literal hearts in his eyes and the absolute care with which he holds you close. “and where did you learn such a big word from, i mean, wow! i look ravishing?” you tease mischievously.

“oh so you hate me?” he asks, chuckling in amusement. “than why’re you in my lap, hm? besides,” he smiles at your expression, presses on with amusement tinging his golden eyes. “that’s not what you were sayin’ last night, when i had you cu—”

“stop!! oh my god!” you exclaim, absolutely mortified at the extent of his shamelessness, covering your flushed face in the palms of your hands and wishing, not for the first time, your boyfriend didn’t insist on having private security with you at all times. “you win, okay? i hate you, kenny.”

“sure you do, baby.” he muses, before he digs his hands into his pockets, leans back and gestures for one of his bodyguards. “hey,” he calls, to one of the five men constantly and dutifully standing to attention with his eyes trained at his feet. the man steps closer, but doesn’t dare raise his gaze lest he accidentally meet yours.

the last time one of kenji’s employees even glanced your way for a mere second, your doting boyfriend had gouged his eyes out. (“let this be a lesson to lower your fuckin’ gaze.”) you were such a pretty thing, he knew that, accepted it for an inevitable fact — but he’d be damned if anybody else was allowed to look at you in the way he did.

“this — and i mean all of it.” kenji makes a vague gesture to the three racks of clothes scattered across the room, of the designer brand store he’d pulled you into. “buy it all in my partner’s size, and have it shipped to our place within a week, alright?”

“kenji.” you blink, watching in stunned silence as your boyfriend hands his bodyguard a glossy black card.

he turns back to you expectantly, raises an eyebrow. “yes, m’love?”

“you do realise that you basically just bought the entire store, right?”

“is there a problem with that?” your boyfriend challenges, knowing damn well what you mean to say.

“i didn’t even try on half of the clothes!” you insist, mild alarm settling in at the shades of indifference in his voice, even after blowing forty million yuan on fancy new clothes for you. “and do you know how overpriced this place is? you just got me a place in paris last week and now this—”

you’re at a loss for words when he merely shrugs, much more interested in playing with the little looped ribbons adorning your hair.

“sweetheart,” kenji hums gently, peppering your cheeks with soft kisses. “what’s mine’s all yours — you know this. what’s the point of all this money, if i can’t spend it on you?” your boyfriend’s lips linger against your skin, “now how about we get home?” he asks breathlessly, “wanna show you just how much y’mean to me.”

“fine.” you pout, giving in because you’ve had this conversation a million times before, and it always ends the same way: with kenji telling you he loves the way his money looks on you, (“you deserve the best, and i wanna be the one to give it to you.”) before ripping said money off you and leaving you bare beneath him. (“see? look at this pretty body, so eager for me, hm?”)

and you were right, this time is no different.

because hours later, he’ll press his chest against yours, out of breath and skin slick with sweat as he feels himself come undone, unravelling in the way only you know how to make him.

“love you s’much, sweetheart,” he’ll confess, like he has millions of times before. he’ll smile against your lips, even when your nails dig into his back, and he’s dizzy with absolute ecstasy. “love you so fuckin’ much, you’ll be the death of me.”

“i know.” you’ll breathe, because you do, with every inch of your being, “i love you too, more than — ah! m-more than you know.”

you don’t know that before he’d brought you home, kenji hadn’t liked the way the cashier had looked at you a moment longer than necessary. he was ready to let it slide, but even when you were on his arm, the cashier had the nerve to wink at you?

you didn’t know that even though you had kenji an absolute mess right now, unable to think of anything except how good you felt beneath him, how pretty the sounds you let out were — he was starting to sober from his high, consider the ways he could approach this new problem of his with.

you didn’t know that after this, he had an urgent matter to care of. one that was currently waiting for him, gagged and bound. one that may or may not have been the cashier from earlier…

but he doesn't need you to know. because he'll take care of it for you.

until then, he’ll kiss your flushed skin wherever he can, have you become a babbling mess at his fingertips. kenji knows it’s wrong, the things he’ll do for you, the lengths he'll go, and the lines he'll cross. but can you really blame him?

he just loves you so much.

#op i would die for u #yandere content

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