Be mine? (Yandere one shots)

Money (Yandere!CEO x Reader)

You kicked a pebble and watched it skid into the alleyway. You scoffed and shoved your hands in the pockets of your trench coat. Fixing your hat, you kept walking along the buildings. Faint jazz music echoed through the starry night, causing you to close your eyes and revel in the musical notes.

Your moonshine business was, to put it lightly, going to shit. Your alcohol-making skills were subpar, and the workers are getting angry at you because they haven't been paid yet. To make it up to them, you gave them your gut-wrenching liquor and let them on their merry way. Now you don't know if they were going to return to work tomorrow.

"Is something wrong?"

Your eyes snapped open to see a tall blonde staring down at you with a look of disdain. You scowled, grumpy at his sudden interruption. "I'm fine. Sorry."

He gave you a cocky smile. "You don't seem fine, boy. Though I must say, you have very feminine features."

Cross dressing was your only way to start a business. Women weren't the most respected gender, but things seemed to be getting better. You didn't mind dressing as a boy. The short (h/c) cut looked great under a hat, and your chest didn't hurt whenever your lie down on your stomach. Also, you got more respect from your company. Being a girl wouldn't cultivate as much respect as being a boy.

"That's not a compliment," you replied. "And maybe I'm not fine. But why would I tell a stranger what's going on?"

He reached into his business suit pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. You stared at it in disbelief. He really was giving you money during these times? You pushed his gloved hand away with a chuckle. "Don't need your cabbage, mate."

"This is more than enough to get you through two months," he said. "All you have to do is tell me what's happening."

You bit your lip. Save your little apartment? You could also fix the leaky pipes and shaky heater. You swiped the money out of his hand and put it in your pocket.

"My business is crashing. Hard," you explained. "When it finally shuts down, I'm gonna be broke. I've already talked to some shylocks, but they ain't helping me. Or they demand absurd amounts of money. Either way, it's a bad deal."

"Sounds rough. What's your business."

"Another ten thousand and I'll tell you," you joked with a haughty smirk. He reached into his pocket once again and pulled out a checkbook, writing 10,000. He passed you the pen and paper with a serious gaze. You laughed nervously. "You're kidding."

"I'm not kidding," he replied with his own mischievous smirk. You pushed the checkbook back into his chest.

"Okay, you're really nosy. I'm just going to opt out of this conversation. Goodnight, sir." You tipped your hat and rushed away. What was wrong with that guy? You laughed at the sky feeling the raw cash fly around in your pocket. Maybe paying your workers will make them stay.

You reached your apartment and shoved the key into the lock. You flung open your door and crashed onto your decaying couch. The money spilled from your coat pocket as you gazed into space. How the hell did that guy get so much money? Was he also part of a shady business?

"That fucker," you mumbled. "Does he get it by his good looks? Or his fancy suit?"

You sighed and sat up, rubbing your head. The phone in the small kitchen rang, catching you off guard. You trudged towards it and picked it up.

"(Y/n)! Thank goodness you picked up!" A shrill voice yelled. You grit your teeth, realizing that it's your boisterous mother.

"Hello, mother," you said, mustering up your politeness.