Yandere Lover

****

The casino’s patrons did not give you any trouble. You made time to visit Jackpot, and your presence seemed to make his day. You had no idea why, but it was nice to see him glow whenever you showed up at his bar.

He mentioned his boss, Gambit, here and there. He had nothing bad to say about Gambit, and it became clear that they were good friends. You couldn’t help but wonder: why did Jackpot seem so lonely when he had a friend as close as Gambit?

It didn’t make sense, and you usually weren’t one to judge. There was something deeply wrong here, but you lacked concrete proof.

Sometimes, you’d observe Jackpot working before greeting him. The conclusion you came to? Jackpot needed help. The possibility of exploitation came to mind, but when you carefully brought it up, Jackpot vehemently denied it.

“No, Gambit is not like that. He would never do that to me.”

You met Gambit a few days later. Gambit had stopped you by the shoulder. His cold demeanor terrified you enough that you couldn’t hide the fear in your expression. How did he know?

His first words to you were about one of the suites, suggesting you should think about it. He didn’t walk off immediately; a few uncomfortable seconds had been spent in silence before you realized you could leave.

****

As it turned out, Gambit truly appeared to be a reasonable enough guy. His reputation was well-earned, and you only knew a fraction of what he was capable of. A man like him had to be powerful if he could hire assassins to handle the dirty work for him and have no one bat an eye.

There’s more to Gambit, but you hardly knew him. Jackpot was easy, it felt like you were more of a danger to him than he was to you. With Gambit, you knew you were powerless and small. Yet he never took advantage of you, and treated you with more respect than most nonhumans did outside the casino.

Eventually, you found yourself welcome even without spending money first. You didn’t get the luxury of VIP treatment, but the owner liked you enough. In rare moments, you could almost swear that he wanted more. Gambit looked at you differently than Jackpot, but you couldn’t make sense of it.

You did enjoy Gambit’s company. He scared off any patrons who would give you trouble otherwise. You’d be lying if you said he ever mistreated you. There was little warmth behind his charming smiles, but with you he felt more genuine. It was something you appreciated. He made you feel special.

****

You couldn’t remember last night. How could you forget something that happened so recently?

Upon slowly blinking awake, you froze, stiff as a board. You couldn’t move, instead forced to feel your heart race on its own, preparing itself for an attack or escape. It took a moment for you to take in the details of your surroundings: luxurious furniture and decor, even down to the mattress you slept on. You weren’t home, but where were you?

Willing yourself to move, you managed to break out of your fear-induced paralysis and glanced once more around your room.

Nothing stopped you from heading out and exploring the area. So you did, quickly finding yourself back in the casino. You were in a suite, it seemed. That made sense. Gambit had suggested it to you when you met. You hadn’t expected yourself to actually go through with it, but apparently you did.

Jackpot was quick to appear at your side. Only this time, he’s clearly upset. “I think you were right about Gambit,” he suddenly stated. The comment threw you off; what changed his mind? Jackpot’s hand gripped onto your arm, a little too tight for comfort.

“Why should he get to help you? He didn’t even let me help!” Jackpot was surprisingly sober. He never was, and you had gotten used to it. Seeing the clarity in his eyes, how different they were than usual, was jarring. He paused, gazing deep into your eyes. It only made him more distressed. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. All Gambit told me was that he handled it, but I needed to see you for myself. He made me worry the whole night. It’s not fair!”

You needed help last night? No, that wasn’t right… Did you really?

“What happened? I don’t remember anything.”

“You don’t?” Jackpot furrowed his brows in deep thought, like he’s trying to put together a puzzle with missing pieces. He sought your eyes like a lifeline, holding on to you as if you’d drift away. “I remember… Someone slipped something into your drink, and I didn’t see who did it. You passed out, but Gambit caught you before you fell. He said it made sense for him to take you to an empty suite. I begged to go with him because I…” There was a tense pause. You waited for Jackpot to finish, but the growing dread gnawing at you could not be ignored. “I don’t trust him alone with you.”

Why Jackpot would suddenly doubt Gambit eluded you. His boss had been so good to you, and he cared deeply for Jackpot as well. This felt wrong. Gambit didn’t do anything to deserve this, but Jackpot’s insistence was worth listening to.

“Really? Gambit wouldn’t do anything. He’s never seen me that way.” You weren’t eager to point fingers, but Jackpot was your first friend here. He could be eccentric at times, but you doubted it was his fault. Someone might have failed him in his life, but that was only a theory of yours. Jackpot couldn’t tell you much about his past, anyway. He wasn’t a malicious guy; you could trust him, but believing him meant accepting that there was a very real possibility that Gambit did something to you.

“You might be right.” It felt like your blood has gone cold.

Jackpot didn’t seem to be doing any better. His grip on you had not loosened since you started talking. “We can’t trust him at all,” he murmured. “He’s not my friend…”

It appeared as though Jackpot’s making this realization in the moment. Gambit clearly was his friend, but you wondered if Jackpot was denouncing him for possibly taking advantage of you, or if there was a deeper meaning that you knew too little to understand. You weren’t entirely convinced Gambit had done anything at all.

Color drained from Jackpot, staring not at you but something behind you. He released your arm, but ushered you beside him.

When you turned to look behind you, goosebumps formed on your skin in seconds.

“Are you feeling well?” Gambit’s worry was evident in his expression. He focused more on you than he did Jackpot. After all, you did get drugged last night. Gambit, in that moment, did not look like the kind of man with ill intentions for his friends at all.

“I’m… okay. I don’t have a headache or anything.” You calmed down a little after seeing Gambit be his usual polite self.

“You should be in bed,” he suggested. “You might feel side effects today. I’ll walk you back.” Gambit extended a hand; there was a clear expectation for you to take it, even if he didn’t vocalize it.

You spared a glance towards Jackpot. You couldn’t read him, and you only hoped that Gambit hadn’t heard his employee, his friend, suggest he could be capable of something as terrible as assault.

Gambit wouldn’t do anything to you, there’s no evidence to indicate otherwise. There was no soreness in your body at all, you were fine. So you took his hand, and spared Jackpot a final glance before Gambit guided you back to your suite.

****

The walk back had been mostly silent. For some strange reason, when you passed by a particular painting, you stopped. It wasn’t the painting that was important, you couldn’t care less, but it was familiar. You have passed this painting before. Last night, to be exact.

Gambit, sensing your growing panic, was quick to check up on you. “It’s okay,” he said, rubbing his thumb over your hand. A comforting gesture, perhaps. “I will help.”

He’s said that before.

****

A strange heat surged through you, just enough to make you uncomfortable, but not unbearable. Distantly, you were aware. Your fear, replaced by a desperate need once you were settled into bed. You didn’t know what happened, but you knew you needed help.

Kind, generous Gambit, thankfully, brought you to safety. The moment your body touched the sheets, you sighed blissfully. Sleep was just what you needed, but your body’s aching for something you could not mention.

You thought Gambit would leave once you’re safe, but he lingered. The bed dipped with his weight, and you opened your eyes, confused.

“How are you feeling?” He had asked, and he seemed concerned. It made something in you stir.

“Weird,” you answered. Realizing that he should probably get a better response, you forced yourself to continue. “My body is hot and uncomfortable.”

Gambit stayed silent. He stared at the ground, but when he looked your way, there was something different about him. “Sex will help.”

His blunt words stunned you for a moment. How could he mention that so casually? You were trying to avoid saying it in the first place!

“I don’t know…” You weren’t completely opposed to the idea, but would it really help? Should you even let your friend’s boss sleep with you while you’re clearly unwell?

“What you’re going through will become unbearable if you don’t let me help. It’ll get worse if I don’t.” Gambit spoke as this would be an easy decision for you, as if it was the most natural arrangement in the world.

When you didn’t seem entirely convinced, Gambit moved closer until you felt his body against yours. Even such a simple touch was enough to cause your hesitation to waver, to silence any future protests from coming out of your mouth.

“I won’t do anything if you don’t let me,” he assured, but it felt more like a threat in your delirious state. The decision was yours; Gambit was letting you decide: either face unbearable symptoms alone, or be granted a reprieve. All you had to do was offer your body. Gambit was nowhere near the worst person to sleep with. If anything, you felt like he would be doing you a huge favor rather than doing it for his own pleasure.

“Please help me.” You caved. The trepidation weighing heavily on your mind hadn’t left, but you agreed to it anyway. This was your choice.

It didn’t feel like you were in a position to refuse.

Gambit smiled, perhaps a little too wide for someone who’s supposedly only doing this for your sake.

He slotted his lips against yours so naturally, as if loving you was his purpose. So was his hand which slipped into your pants with no hesitation at all. Meanwhile you were a bundle of nerves, so incredibly nervous and ashamed but desperate for relief.

“It’s okay,” Gambit whispered, leaning in close enough where he made your heart race. “I will help.”

****

Visiting Buried Pair was second nature to you.

It’s one of the few places in the city that prioritized your safety as much as the nonhumans. You were used to being an afterthought, but here, you knew you were safe.

You grew closer with Gambit through every conversation, and the feeling was mutual. He made you, a mere human, feel special in a world where you had to worry about those around you. You even had a feeling Gambit took security more seriously after having gotten to know you.

Gambit took good care of his friends, a group which included you. Jackpot sometimes experienced panic attacks during his shifts, but Gambit always knew how to help, it seemed, because when they returned from the back, Jackpot was his cheerful self again. He could never recall what was on his mind, but Jackpot had always been the forgetful type for as long as you’ve known him. Though sometimes you had to wonder how someone could be so unaware.

----

It’s dark. You couldn’t see anything, save for glowing green irises. Most concerningly, your legs were spread, and you felt full. There’s breathing, yours mixed with his, and terrible, slick sounds from where the two of you met.

“Harlequin?” You knew who it was, you weren’t stupid, and you’re certain Harlequin heard the disbelief in your voice. You didn’t think he’d go this far! He’s always respected your boundaries, even if he pushed your limits at times, so why did he change now?

Whatever awful thing was inside you pulled back before drawing out a needy whine from you with its next thrust. You weren’t sure what part of Harlequin it was—it was all him. Down to whatever was restraining your wrists, moving and coiling around your limbs. You tried to pull against him, but his grip tightened. You might bruise if you make it out alive. Harlequin hummed, trailing his clawed hand along your stomach before stopping at your clit. You tensed.

“Your heart is racing. For whom, I wonder?” There was a playful lilt to Harlequin’s voice. “There’s no one here but us.”

Despite keeping you bound, you could still move your arms somewhat freely. Harlequin kept himself coiled around your limbs, yes, but he wasn’t keeping you in a particularly tight grip. You might be able to wriggle free, but you doubt he’d let you. Instead, you let your head slump against a mattress (where even were you?), and made a pathetic, miserable sound. The thought of screaming did cross your mind, but you might attract whatever freak friends he has instead. Who knows if they’d help you? Pierrot would. Your sweet, dear Pierrot. If he hasn’t come for you already, then Harlequin must’ve hid you well.

“Stop.” You writhed underneath him, making it abundantly clear you didn’t want to be touched. All that accomplished was strengthening your binds, making them more restrictive than before.

Harlequin’s claw played with your clit, causing you to suck in a breath. You tried to imagine Pierrot touching you in, but his touch was reverent in a way Harlequin’s was not. He wasn’t gentle. No, it was like he was trying to fuck himself under your skin, to become one with you in ways you were afraid to comprehend. You tried again. “I’m serious. Stop.”

Except your voice wavered, as if unsure, but you were certain. Harlequin’s touch shouldn’t feel this good; it’s oppressive in a way. You are being touched when you did not want to be, by someone you previously considered a friend. Harlequin—the charming monster who vowed to steal you from Pierrot when you were no one’s but your own. Sure, he had always been a little odd, but he wasn’t human. You thought he didn’t know any better, but now, as you lied underneath him, trembling, you doubted it.

“You don’t want me to stop. Not really.” Harlequin lowered himself until his breath fanned the skin of your neck. “I’ll leave my mark,” he hummed, grazing you with his fangs, causing goosebumps to litter your skin.

“Don’t—”

He didn’t wait for you to protest before sinking his fangs into you. You could only manage a cry, squeezing the “ropes” around your wrists to ground yourself. A horrible, wet tongue laved over the mark, lapping up any spilled blood. If he wanted to, he could have ripped a chunk out of you. You should have been grateful; Harlequin could be far worse. It wouldn’t have been the first time he did something like that.

When you squeezed him, Harlequin shuddered. “You’re playing a dangerous game, ma’am,” he purred. “If you keep that up, I won’t be able to control myself.”

You quickly loosened your grip on him, and, of course, he noticed the horror in your expression. “Don’t look at me like that… Your mouth says no, but it’s me your body wants. Forget about him; I’m all you need.” Harlequin leaned in against your neck, but he didn’t draw more blood like you expected; he kissed his mark. It felt oddly tender in a way you couldn’t understand.

The building heat in your core wasn’t helping. Harlequin lazily thrust into you, predatory eyes noting your reactions and what made you clench around him. It wasn’t long before you spasmed around his cock, letting out a drawn out mewl as you came. Harlequin was kind enough to nurse you through it, but now that you’ve cum, he seemed determined to leave his mark inside you as well.

It was starting to feel overwhelming. “Harlequin—it’s too much—” You mindlessly squeezed your binds, hoping to elicit the same reaction from earlier. Anything to speed this up. It felt like hours had passed while you’re still here, with Harlequin, against your will.

You said his name again, a pitiful moan, and Harlequin groaned, thrusting inside you as deep as possible. He grabbed your hips and pulled you flush against him. You couldn’t even beg for him to pull out. Harlequin finished inside you, and you felt dazed. Ashamed. Hopeless. What would Pierrot think? Would he get himself killed while trying to kill Harlequin in your defense?