Male Reader X

Reader x Yandere Yang Xiao Long (RWBY)

(Yangdere?)

The stinging bite of the ropes around your hands and ankles make it abundantly clear that she wants you to stay here, unmoving.

It has been nearly three hours.

At least she was kind enough to leave the TV on, though the ongoing drone of the current affairs programming it landed on as she hastily ran out through the front door has started to drive you slightly mad.

Yang had decided that tonight was the night she was going clubbing; without you, as a bout of paranoid mania has convinced her that you will be swept off your feet by a woman should you ever show your face in public. She overpowered you using her trained body and strapped you to a cheap wooden chair, a chair you didn't even know she owned until now.

What do they call it when you get used to this? Should you be getting used to this?

Yang was always a strange girl, ever since you first met her at the tail end of a fight between her and a pack of vicious, bloodsucking grimm. Confident, beautiful, assertive. She charged over and started flirting with you on the spot. Why? You don't know. Maybe she finds something about your face particularly appealing. She likes to say it was love at first sight.

You agreed to one date, what kind of guy wouldn't when a blonde, busty bombshell was climbing all over him?

You should have seen the warning signs. You're in too deep to back out now. You are fairly confident that Yang will disembowel you with her fists should you dare suggest breaking up. She's possessive to an extreme degree. While it does massage your ego to have her clinging to your arm like a leech at all times of day, it does make going to the toilet awkward.

"Can I watch?"

You shudder at the recollection. Your ears perk up as the front door clicks open. The heavy footfalls of your darling girlfriend tell you two things, she's coming to find you, and the uneven pace of her gait means she's really drunk again.

"Babe, I'm home!" she drawls, stumbling into the open doorway with a wayward smile. Wearing a black tank top, a leather jacket and a pair of jeans so short you could best describe them as underwear. You can smell the stench of booze from halfway across the room. She quickly closes in and plants her bottom on your lap, burying her face into the top of your head and inhaling deeply. "Ah, you smell nice," she giggles.

"Welcome home... can you untie me? These knots are starting to hurt."

"But I like you like this," she pouts – her eyes flash a dangerous shade of red for just a moment - her semblance and a key tell to when she's getting impatient. You've seen Yang totally blow her top when some 'shit-eating playboy' tries to hit on her when she's on the town with you. She wiggles her hips and enjoys another nose full of your hair.

There is no safety to be found by lowering your gaze. Yang's top hangs open, revealing her bare breasts. Where is her bra? You look back up and to the bed beside you, where the fabric lays discarded. You didn't even see her take it off. Yang could work as a magician if she wasn't so invested in fighting monsters.

Yang's embrace turns more aggressive. She clutches your cheeks in her hands and begins to pepper your face with alcohol scented kisses, "Love you, I love you so much..." she mumbles drunkenly, "None of those other girls are gonna' get to you with me around. I'm going to make sure you never want anybody else but me."

"I'm not going anywhere Yang," you assure her in the hopes that she'll untie you. That hope is quickly snuffed out as she slips her hands into your shirt and begins rubbing your chest. Yang enjoys seeing you tied up and helpless. You have to wait for her to get her fill, or for her to get too horny to bother with the foreplay.

She smirks, "That's right, you're not. You're all mine, forever." She dips down and pulls your lips into one last kiss, before pulling away her roaming hands and ripping off her own tank top. Yang is stacked. That seems obvious, but you find yourself thinking it all over again every time you see her naked. "Let's have some fun babe!"

---

After a wild evening where Yang did most of the work, you awoke from your sex/bondage coma in bed with her wrapped around you back like a cobra. Yang groaned and rolled over as a rogue beam of sunlight snuck through a gap in the curtains. "My head..." You sigh and hop out of bed. You quickly run into the kitchen and run her a glass of cold water. She takes it gratefully and downs the entire glass in a few gulps. "Thanks."

You rub the red marks on your arms with an irritated frown. "Seriously Yang, I get that you have these episodes, but can you avoid doing them when you're drunk?"

"Yeah, yeah."

The still naked huntress hobbles out of bed and pulls you into another hug, you pat her back and escort her into the living room, where she crashes down onto the couch. "I've gotta' leave my mark so those other bitches don't get to you."

"The only other girl I talk with regularly is your sister."

"She's a looker too!"

"And do you think Ruby's mean enough to steal her sister's partner?"

Yang sheepishly backs down and shakes her head.

You reach out and begin to prepare your breakfast, "Next time you go out drinking, I'm coming with you."

She leans off the couch and objects, "But I'll have to watch you all night!"

"I don't care. You're the hottest girl in the club anyway. What do you want to eat?"

"...Toast."

Just another day with Yang.