#is gambit a creep?

[idridian]

Saw this post and I just had to share it with you. As a watari connoisseur what are your thoughts on this?

It's from the kira game, so none of these interactions are canon, but there may be some truth to this one lol

https://www.tumblr.com/queeranotkira/757287956186857472/wow-way-to-throw-your-manslave-under-the-bus-l-the?source=share

*looks slowly from the post to my ao3 catalogue and then back at the post*

....i mean. are they wrong though lol

(tho tbh given L's neutral facial expression, the vibes of this interaction seem closer to sayu going "watari's a creep!! >:(" and L chimes in with "he sure is 🥰🥰" and then everybody stares at him awkwardly. but maybe that's just me)

[dapper-nahrwhale]

Gambit x men evolution I'm blowing you up with my mind creepo

[sun-snatcher]

Say less bestie! Could we get a continuation of limbo losers club but like wade makes y/n trip and kind of falls into gambit’s arms or some cheesy stuff like that please and thank u 🙏🏼 ☺️ hope ur having a good day or night💜

♧ ⎯ CONTACT-HIGH

summ.  You and Gambit become roommates. Wade can’t play Poker to save his life, but he can sure as hell play wingman. Kind of. pairing. Void!Gambit x f!Anomaly!reader , (established in #WELUCKYFEW) a/n.  A drabble. Have a dash of world-building, domesticity, and more Cajun!

IT TAKES A WEEK to settle in your new home.

Will probably take alot more to break in the whole new-Universe thing, though.

Anyway. Vanessa is a Saint, is what you conclude along with Remy, once you discover she’s the one responsible for pulling at some close strings to find both of you an apartment for the time being. 

Favours had been called. I’s dotted, t’s crossed; IOU’s are hashed out— that sort of thing.

Neither of you will fit at Wade’s space, she’d joked over the initial tour, Unless you’re fine with sharing a bed with him and Blind Al, ofcourse. In which case, by all means— I don’t judge. 

So she’d thrown a housewarming party as the final cherry ontop. Something simple; something easing. 

Acclimatising, if you will.

Sunday evening is already slowing down considerably, the bottle of vodka Laura brought over as a gift having buzzed you high enough to know you should probably avoid pouring yourself a subsequent cup. 

(She’d apparently stolen it from Colossus’ collection. “I’m at Professor Xavier’s school, for now,” she’d explained. “It’s… nice. Been awhile since I’ve been around that many mutants.”)

Over a messy table of candies as make-shift chips, an informal game of Poker unravels to its end. Vanessa and you have already folded, taking to watching in amusement as Wade narrows his eyes suspiciously at the Cajun. 

“…I bet that blink you just made is your tell. I don’t know, really; this is honestly just an elaborate excuse to stare at that beautiful face of yours—” he rambles, still staring comically for a shift in Remy’s calm mien. “No? Nothing? Damn. I’ll go All in, baby."

“I call,” huffs Logan, sliding his spill of jellybeans forward and sinking back into the sun faded cushions. He tosses down a Three-of-a-kind and a King-high. Decent.

“Full boat,” Wade declares, confidently setting his cards. “Pair of drag-Queens. Three Aces.”

Remy smiles. 

…You know that look.

“Pauvre bête,” he coos, spreading out his winning hand almost lazily— Spades in stunning sequence; a Straight Flush. “D’you think Gambit was bluffin’, mes amis?”  *

The table erupts in a half-defeated, half-impressed chorus of laughter.

Remy, unconsciously, glances your way. 

The wind-chime ring of your laugh is probably the most intoxicating thing in this room. You look different, he thinks privately, eyeing the high slope of your brow; the hollow of your throat as you throw your head back.

You’re bubbly. Glowing. It isn’t the alcohol, no. This is… a flash of yourself before everything. 

Not so laden with that forlorn, undersurface grief you always try to hide from him; Not so war-torn nor heartbroken from a moribund time.

It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful. 

“Lâche pas la patate, mon petit rouge,” Remy gathers his deck back along with his thoughts, self-soothing himself with a comforting shuffle of cards before he drifts any deeper into his head and haywires. “C’est la vie.”  *

“Again, not a single word— Stray!” Wade protests, “He’s speaking Simlish again. And I swear he’s cheating. Party magician here probably has an extra card shoved down his pants somewhere.”

Logan snorts. “Did’ya really think you’d win a game against a dealer named Gambit, bub?”

“My friend Domino can. It’s a shame she conveniently disappeared after Deadpool 2 released.” Wade makes a sour face. “And I bet she doesn’t even know how to play Poker.”

Laura, atop a stool, downs the remains of her drink. “As far as I know, only Matt managed to win against him back when we were at the Void.”

Juice goes down the wrong pipe just as you stand, shakily, from your post on the loveseat. “Pause— Daredevil?” you choke out a laugh, “Isn’t he literally blind?” 

“Mais, that was one time, chèr!” Remy overrides in light defiance. “He was canaille, he. Listened to my heartbeat as a tell, that couyon.”  *

“Wow, Wade, someone who couldn’t even see his own cards beat Gambit before you. What’s your excuse?”

Laura cackles. He feigns a gasp. “That’s, like, totally ableist to my beloved roommate Blind Al. Blindness is a spectrum, you ass!”

“Actually very true. I apologise,” you yield, palms shooting up. 

And then you’re stumbling your way through the couch-tangle of everyone’s legs, carefully stamping between spaces as your head swims decidedly between another drink or a trip to the bathroom. “Now, if you’ll excuse m—”

Miscalculation. You barely get the time to react. Wade had left his foot out and mistakenly tagged your ankle on a chaste side-step, and the next thing you know—

You trip.

Hard. 

The world tilts on its axis as you stumble.

Someone— 

Someone catches you by the forearm. 

It’s Remy. 

“Easy, chèr,” he steadies, a small laugh bubbling out of him; though it hadn’t been unkind. The sea-green shift in his watchful eyes brim with gentle concern, if anything. 

“If y’wanted an excuse t’hold my hand, mais, y’coulda just axed me.”

Something in your chest skips; stutters; stumbles. That lightning-reflex has always been an attractive feat of his. And that annoyingly sharp, charming smile.

“...Y’alright? Casséd, chèr?”  *

His accent rings twice as saccharine-sweet in your tipsy haze. “What?”

“Drunk,” he translates patiently, gently guiding you out the fray with an outstretched hand as you pass by.

Contact-high, Remy akins it, this wired strum up his spine. Your hot touch is just as, if not more, intoxicating than your sunburst laugh. He hopes to whatever God above that you don’t feel the current of his instinctual, hesitant, charge crawling underneath his skin. 

Your nimble fingers slide away from his.

(Electricity. Static. You wonder if perhaps it’s from the wool of your sweater.)

“No,” you answer, honestly. After all, the sheer embarrassment alone had you sobering up in the space of a breath. You can feel your cheeks aflame as you clear your throat. “Not yet, atleast,” you try to joke, “But I’m good, guys. My bad.”

“My bad, actually,” Wade points out, sounding anything but apologetic. “Whoops.”

Vanessa bites back a laugh. 

Couyon, Remy murmurs to him with a piercing look, once you’d finally gone out of sight.

There’s a flash of pink-purple in his eyes.

And then—

Something flicks the merc square in the chest, knocking the breath right out of his lungs.

“F—ucking hell,” Wade croaks. 

“Did… did you just fracture my sternum with a beer cap?!”

 *Cajun Footnotes:

Pauvre (ti) bête — Poor (little) thing Lâche pas la patate — Don’t give up/hang in there (Literally: don’t let go of the potato) C’est la vie — Such is life/That’s life Canaille — Mischievous/Wily Cassé — Drunk Couyon — Fool/Idiot Mes amis — My friends (Mon) petit rouge — (My) Little red Axe — Ask (Not a translation, more a pronunciation.)

[kayesfanfics]

Being Friends with Benefits with Gambit

Warnings: NSFW, AFAB reader, mentions of cheating, one sided love, love triangles around every corner, Morph lowkey has a crush on you

You and Gambit had always been flirty with each other, but nothing that got physical, at least until he came to you one day. He was sick of chasing after Rogue when she didn’t want him back, so he wanted to both make her jealous and let out some pent up energy. You decided to indulge him, admitting to yourself that you really did need a good lay, and you wanted to see Rogue get jealous because of you. So you agreed and let him lead you to his bedroom, which happened to be a couple doors down from Rogues’

After that first night, the two of you went to each other when you were either horny, frustrated, jealous, or all of the above. You didn’t explicitly tell the team but they all knew, having either heard you themselves or hearing it through the gossip that quickly spread through the Mansion. Rogue had shown she was a bit upset, but she also couldn’t blame Remy after making him chase after her and leading him on when she was still shacking it up with Magneto. Still, that didn’t stop the pang in her heart when she saw him whisper to you before you giggled and followed him upstairs. You and Gambit both knew you were hurting her, but Gambit was sort of okay with it and you egged him on, saying she deserved it for leading him on all these months

You watched with disdain as Gambit’s eyes were on Rogue across the table, whom was not paying him any attention. You longed for Gambit to look at you that way, but his heart was still set on the southern belle, yet his dick was set on you. You convinced yourself you were okay with that, thinking that at least he came to you for something, even if it was just sex. But truly deep down, you wished he came to you for so much more. For now though, you pined after him as he pined after Rogue.

“Meeting dismissed. Gambit, Y/N, Jubilee, don’t forget you’ve got the Danger Room with me in an hour. Good luck.” Scott grinned, before leaving the table to go tend to his pregnant wife.

“Looks like we’re gonna get our asses kicked together, chere.” You smiled at Gambit, using the nickname he used on him.

“Yeah, looks like.” He mumbled, watching Rogue leave the room, no doubt headed to Magnetos office. You glared at the back of her head, jealous that Remy was so focused on her that he couldn’t even see you throwing yourself at him right next to him. You glowered and left the table, crossing your arms, knowing he wasn’t watching you leave. You went towards the kitchen to get a drink, definitely needing a beer before fighting Wolverine soon.

“God, that’s gotta suck hard.” You heard a playful voice from somewhere behind you. You turned and saw Morph grinning at you like a creep from the hallway, before he jumped onto the counter you sat at.

“No shit, Morph.” You grumbled, taking a swig of beer as you wallowed in your self pity. “I just…I don’t get it! Why can’t he see I’m better for him? She doesn’t pay him any mind!”

“That’s what he’s thinking about her and Magneto,” he shrugged. “You can do better than him, y’know? You deserve someone who pines after you, Y/N.”

“Yeah? Like who?”

“I don’t know…maybe-“

“Oh, this is pathetic.” You both turned to see Wolverine watching you two from the fridge.

“What is?” You asked, looking at Morph in confusion.

“You two! Both of you! All of you! It’s ridiculous, really.” He grouched at you, grabbing a beer for himself.

“Aren’t YOU pining after Jean?” You teased, making him glare at you and Morph snicker.

“This ain’t about me, I’m talking about you! Morph after you, you after that southern weasel, him after Rogue, Rogue after magnet man!” Wolverine ranted before chugging some beer.

“What do you mean ‘Morph after me’?” You asked in confusion, looking up at Morph’s embarrassed face.

“Nothing! He means nothing!” Morph glared at Wolverine, who simply rolled his eyes and went back to his beer.

You grumbled in frustration, finishing your beer and tossing it before leaving. Everything was so confusing in this place, there were love triangles everywhere you looked and apparently, you were in a few of your own. You just wanted Remy to look at you how he looked at Rogue, why was that so hard?

*later that day…*

“Ya know jus’ how ta rile Gambit up, don’ ya chere?” Remy growled in your ear as he kicked shut his bedroom door behind him, your lips locked on his jawline, leaving large and dark hickies behind as your hands clawed at his trench coat. He moaned slightly at your actions, his hands feeling up your body that he carried in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands grabbing handfuls of your ass and plush thighs as he walked the both of you over to his bed. His room was dark and smelled of his colonge, his sheets surprisingly soft as he laid you down on it, immediately climbing on top of you and letting his hands trail up your sides to your breasts, squeezing them and making you toss your head back and bite your lip as he played with them.

“Remy, please!” You whined, desperately needing to feel his touch without your suits blocking his skin. He raked his hands down your chest and abdomen before holding both your thighs in his hands, keeping them wrapped around him as he started to attack your neck with his soft lips. You moaned and grabbed a handful of his wild hair, pushing him closer to you as he sucked at that sweet spot behind your ear that sent shivers down your spine, making your back arch off the bed and press your clothed chests together.

“Why ya always gotta mess wit’ me durin trainin, dollface? Nearly fucked me right there in front’a ol Morph and Scott.” He said between kisses, his red and black eyes watching your face as you moaned and but your lip for him.

“I can’t…can’t resist you!” You pulled his hair so his lips would meet yours in a frantic kiss. “So handsome…so sexy…so wonderful…” you moaned between kisses, out of breath but not caring as you kissed him again and again.

“Aw, you charm Gambit, mon cherie~” he smiled and pulled away from the kiss, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it somewhere behind him. “How bout you show Gambit how sexy he is, huh?”

You smiled excitedly as he got off you so both of you could undress quickly, tossing clothes carelessly onto the floor, so focused on each others bodies you couldn’t care less about the mess. As soon as the both of you were undressed, you grabbed Remy by the shoulders and pushed him onto his back, climbing on top of him and straddling his waist, your pussy sitting atop his dick but not penetrating yourself just yet. You started with kissing his chest and teasing his nipples with your tongue as he folded his arms behind him to watch the show, his usual shit eating grin on his face as he watched you ravage his body. Your hands glided along his sculpted abs, following his happy trail down to his cock, one hand palming it while the other continued to feel up his body. After some more teasing, he bucked his hips up into your hand and raised an eyebrow at you, giving you the signal that he was getting tired of your teasing.

“So impatient~” you purred, trailing a finger down his chest as you crawled down the bed until your face was level with his cock. You grabbed it fully in your hand finally, making him sharply inhale as you started to move your hand slowly up and down his shaft. His arms moved to grip the sheets as you opened your lips to suck on his tip gently, swirling your tongue teasingly and watching him squirm below you. You smirked with a mouthful of his dick until his hand grabbed your hair and shoved you down, his cock quickly hitting the back of your throat, making you choke and gag around him. He heartily laughed at your reaction as he moved your head at the pace he pleased, eventually letting go once you found a good rhythm for him. You gripped his thighs when his hips bucked up into your face, warning you that he was about to cum. You braved yourself by squeezing his thighs until his semen sprayed down your throat, then rubbed his thighs as you swallowed everything he gave you.

“Fuck, chere!” Remy panted as he came down from your high, watching you sit up and wipe your mouth elegantly, your eyelashes batting at him sexily as he caught his breath. He suddenly sat up and pushed you face first into the bed so your ass was up and your face buried in the covers. You moaned as you felt his hand grab a handful of your ass and grope it, before smacking it hard enough to leave a red mark, making you yelp and grip the sheets beneath you. “Think ya can take Gambit now?”

“Yes! Please, Remy! I need you so badly!” You begged him, tilting your head to make eye contact with him behind you. He smirked and slapped your other cheek, chuckling when you squeaked and buried your face into the covers to hide your blushing face. You gasped when he tugged your hair harshly, before feeling the tip of his cock prod at your entrance. Your back arched impossibly more as he slowly entered you, whining as you felt every inch of him in detail slip into you.

He leaned down to press his chest to your back and place a few kisses on your bare shoulder, asking, “Ya alright, chere? Ready for Gambit?”

You nodded desperately and soon felt his cock pumping in and out of your pussy. You let out a choked out moan as he picked up his pace, hearing the smack of his hips against your ass as he thrusted harder and harder. You whimpered out his name pathetically like a prayer, before feeling his free hand slip beneath you and his fingers beginning to rub and pinch at your clit. You cried out at the feeling of all this stimulation at once, Remy’s skilled fingers and hips fucking you just right into his mattress.

“R-Remy, please! Fuck! Rem, I-I’m gonna…ah!” You screamed as he pistoned in and out of you, his hand pulling your hair harshly and his fingers playing with your clit expertly. “Please please please please please! Gambit! R-Rem!”

“Cum fer Gambit, mon ange! You can do it!” He huffed, out of breath from the workout of fucking you. You gripped the sheets so hard your knuckles turned pale as you shut your eyes, feeling the coil inside of you snap with one last harsh thrust of his hips into your pussy. Gambit slowly fucked you through your orgasm, pulling out and rubbing your pussy softly as he set your shaking body down on his bed, getting up and heading to his bathroom. You heard the sink run, before he returned with a washcloth to wipe down your inner thighs. Your chest heaved as you caught your breath, your abdomen spasming as you came down from your high.

Once clean, he tossed the wash cloth onto the floor with the rest of your clothes and got back into bed with you, tugging the covers over you as he pulled you to his chest. You cuddled into him, hands around his abdomen and face buried into his hairy chest. He mindlessly played with your hair as the both of you relaxed and rested together, holding the other in comfortable silence as your eyes began to feel heavy.

“Remy?” You shyly spoke up, finally breaking the silence.

“Yeah chere?” He asked, not moving his eyes from staring up at the ceiling.

“I um…what are we?”

You felt his hand stop playing with your hair and his breath hitch, before he let go of you and sat up, fidgeting with the covers as you slowly sat up with him, holding the covers up to your chest.

“What’s this about, mon chere?”

“You know what it’s about. I can’t…I can’t keep doing this if this is all we’ll ever lead to. I have too many strong feelings for you to do this to myself. I…I love you, Remy.”

He finally looked you in the eyes, and unreadable expression on his face, before he slowly dissolved into laughter. You glared at him and smacked his shoulder, pouring that he wasn’t taking this seriously.

“I’m, I’m sorry, Y/N! Gambits sorry, it’s just…why does this shit always gotta be so damn complicated?”

“You’re telling me.” You grumbled. “Well? What are we? Answer me.”

“We are…we are friends with benefits currently, no?” He grabbed one of your hands. “Y/N, Gambit loves ya very much, it’s just…he also loves Rogue still too. He couldn’t give ya the full attention ya wanted, not right now at least. It ain’t fair to ya, but I love ya both, at least for now.”

You looked at him sadly, despite already knowing he still loved Rogue. You thought about how Morph felt the same way you did about him, and how Gambit felt the same way about Rogue. It was a complicated love triangle…square? Whatever. It was complicated, full of strong feelings, but you knew what you all felt was real and valid for each other.

“I think I can live with that for now.” You sighed, giving him a sad smile before leaning in to kiss him.

[triptuckers]

drunk in love - remy lebeau

Request: nope Pairing: remy lebeau x reader Summary: remy is comes home drunk, so you take care of him Warnings: mentions of alcohol, language, mentions of sexual themes/making out but not actually the real thing dont worry, remy being a whiny lovesick puppy, one mention of throwing up but no actual throwing up Word count: 1.7K A/N: currently binge watching x men 97 PLEASE give me more gambit content pls marvel I'm willing to beg you on my knees. based on a screenshot I saw of a comic page. enjoy!

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you're sitting on the couch, reading your book. it's dark outside, and the clock on the wall tells you it's way too late for you to be awake. you weren't a night owl, but this book was just too good. every time you want to put it away, a chapter ends in a cliffhanger. you couldn't bring yourself to close it without finding out what happened next.

the story is so good and you're so focused on it, you nearly jump out of your skin when you hear the door knob rattle.

it was late and remy wasn't home. he went out drinking with some of the other x-men. it wasn't often they were all free and in the same city, so you knew if it did happen, remy would usually stay out til late. not coming home til long after you'd gone to bed already.

you weren't expecting him to come home this early, so you're immediately on guard. slowly, you put your book down and creep closer to the front door. you grab the closest thing you can find to use as a weapon. you don't know how much damage a tissue box could do, but at the very least you could throw it at the intruder and run away.

remy had tried to teach you some self defence tricks in case something happened and he wasn't home, but he was nearly always right there with you, so you never really learned it.

you wish you had paid him more attention now.

as you get closer to the front door, you see a shadow silhouetted against the glass. and then you hear a voice, cursing while trying to open the door.

'merde... why won't this fucking key fit... fuck off...'

you unlock the door and open it. maybe a little too quickly, because remy all but stumbles into you. you barely manage to catch him.

when he looks up at you, he gives you a dazzling smile with his eyes half closed. 'hello, mon amour.' he says.

you laugh softly and roll your eyes as you shake your head. of course he'd stumble home drunk. you already know your evening is far from over when he's like this.

'come on.' you say. 'let's get you inside.'

remy does a spectacularly bad job at getting up. and he's heavy.

'remy.' you say, holding on to him. 'work with me here.'

you manage to get him inside and lock the door again. remy is looking at you with a smile on his face.

'I hadn't expected you back yet.' you say, walking into the kitchen.

remy follows you and grabs one of your hands with both of his.

'I missed you, chéri.' he says, pulling you close and nuzzling his face in your neck.

'we live together, remy. I saw you this afternoon.' you say.

you feel his lips press against the side of your neck. you briefly close your eyes and allow yourself to revel in the feeling. then you gently push him away.

you hear remy whine and turn to see him pout at you.

'you don't love me anymore?' he says.

'of course I do, my love.' you say. 'but you're drunk. you need to drink some water and go to bed.'

you grab a clean glass and walk over to the sink. as you're filling it up with water, you can sense remy's presence behind you. seconds later, you feel his hands on your hips and his chin on your shoulder.

you mange to turn around in his arms and hand him the glass of water.

'drink up.'

'can I get a kiss afterwards?'

you roll your eyes. you don't want to admit you think it's adorable when he's this handsy and affectionate. you would only encourage him and you really meant it: you wouldn't do anything when he's drunk. he'd do the same if the roles were reversed.

'sure, love, you can get a kiss afterwards.'

you have to hold back your laughter as remy's eyes light up and he downs the glass in one go. you smirk and blow him a kiss before he can lean in.

'hey, what the fuck! no fair!' he exclaims, frowning.

'come on.' you say, holding out your hand to him. 'let's go to bed.'

he all but stumbles over his feet in his haste to grab your hand and follow you.

'yeah, let's go to bed.' you hear remy say behind you. you can tell by the tone in his voice you two have different ideas about 'going to bed'.

'to sleep, remy.' you clarify.

he sighs so loudly you can feel his breath on the back of your neck. you smile to yourself, amused at how fast his moods change when he's drunk. and about the fact he's such a love sick puppy when he's had a few. that is, more of a love sick puppy than he normally is. god, he really loves you.

when you get to your bedroom, you motion for remy to sit down on the bed. you kneel down to untie his boots.

'loving this view, mon amour.' comes remy's voice from above you. 'you know I love it when you get on your knees for me.'

'I'm just taking off your boots.'

'sure you are.'

'I am, remy.'

'are you sure?'

'yes, I am sure.'

remy sighs dramatically and lets himself fall back onto the bed. you glance up at him and see how tight his pants are. of course he'd not only be overly affectionate, but also turned on.

you tug off his boots and socks, raising to your feet.

'stand up for me, please.' you say.

remy opens his eyes and smirks at you from his position on the bed.

'now this view, I like.'

'it's literally so late remy, come on, I want to go to bed.'

he takes a hold of the hand you offer him and lets you pull him to his feet. you reach out to undo his belt.

'wow, chéri, buy me dinner first.' remy mumbles above you. you can tell by his quiet voice he's ready to go to sleep but fighting to stay awake. you wonder how much of this he'll remember tomorrow.

after undoing his belt and helping him out of his pants, you tell him to put his arms up so you can pull his shirt over his head. he does what you ask and doesn't even make a flirty comment about it. that tells you his tiredness is really kicking in.

you briefly step away to get a pair of sweatpants and a shirt out of the closet. as you hand them to him, you allow remy to rest his hand on your shoulder as he puts on the pants you've given him. you let your eyes linger on his muscular chest as he puts on the shirt. you really did get lucky with him, even if he can't keep his hands off of you when he's drunk.

you gently guide him to the bed and help him lay down. you get into the bed next to him and feel how remy pulls you closer, burying his face in your neck.

'you will kiss me tomorrow, right?' he mumbles against your skin.

you run your hands lazily through his hair. 'if you aren't hungover as fuck, which I think you will be, then yes, I'll kiss you, my love.' you say.

'oh fuck yes.' he says, making you chuckle softly.

'goodnight, remy.' you say.

'sweet dreams, mon amour.' he says.

just as you expected, remy falls asleep within seconds. you lay there for a while, absently running your fingers through his hair and thinking about how much you love him, before you eventually fall asleep as well.

when you wake up in the morning, your chest feels heavy. you open your eyes to see remy has somehow put his entire body on yours during the night.

you stay like that for a while, until you can no longer deny you really want breakfast.

with some effort, you push remy off of you so you can get up. he's still asleep as you lean in and press a kiss to his cheek.

as you make breakfast, you're softly humming to yourself while you're in the kitchen.

your morning is quiet. you decide to let remy sleep for as long as he wants, maybe it would make his hangover less extreme.

just as you're making your lunch, you hear remy coming down the stairs. he stumbles into the kitchen, grumbling something in thick accented cajun you can't understand.

then he all but leans his entire body weight on you as he's standing behind you.

'why does the world hate me?' he says.

you laugh. 'good afternoon to you too, my love.'

'morning.' he mumbles. 'your voice is so loud, chéri.'

'this is the thanks I get for taking care of your drunk ass last night?'

'sorry. was I being an asshole?'

'no, just the usual. you couldn't keep your hands off of me.'

'you're used to that.'

'I am.'

you turn around. remy wraps his arms around you and drops his forehead to your shoulder.

'is this what dying feels like?' he mumbles.

'no, my love, this is what being extremely hungover feels like.' you say. 'you want coffee?'

'dear god no, the thought of it makes me want to throw up. I'll just lay on the couch.'

'you're so dramatic.' you say, gently taking a hold of his face and holding it in front of you.

remy closes his eyes and leans into your touch. 'this is making me feel better already.'

you lean in and press a kiss to the tip of his nose. when you pull back, he opens his eyes and smiles briefly at you. then he sways a bit on his feet and sucks in a sharp breath.

'still want to kiss me like you said yesterday?'

'oh, mon amour, I think if I stand really still and you don't move, the world stops spinning.'

you laugh at him as he groans, pressing one hand to his forehead. you decide to take it easy for the rest of the day. the two of you alternate between taking naps and you reading your book out loud to him. as the day passes, you can't help but to think that maybe a hungover remy isn't so bad. you secretly love how he refuses to leave your side when he's hungover.

A/N:If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost, steal or translate my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[rebelliousstories]

Rightful Spot

Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst, Mentions of Fighting

Word Count: 1,521

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: After coming back to his timeline and finally joining in on missions, Remy underestimated how powerful cuddles could be.

Consider Donating: Here

Looking back on it now, he could have stuck that landing better. However, the circumstances leading to him having to stick a landing were a bit unforgiving, so it should not have been terribly surprising. Still, falling from the sky and rolling into a dark alleyway was not how Remy wanted his welcome home to be.

He could not complain though. Remy was home. He was back in his own universe, and now had a renewed sense of purpose. Stumbling out into where he could see lights, familiar sights and sounds greeted him like old friends. New Orleans, Louisiana; home sweet home. Gambit was on Bourbon Street, which was always hustling and bustling.

His feet began the trek to who knows where. All he knew was that they were going some place familiar and safe. The man ducked and weaved, making his way effortlessly through the crowds. In his hands, a card was always there, just in case. Further and further from the crowds, his feet took him. Down to where there were some apartment buildings, his brain finally started catching up with his feet. Taking over, Remy bolted up to the top, and began to run across the rooftops to his destination.

Dropping onto the fire escape, he thanked whatever was out there that he managed to keep mostly quiet. Peaking inside the window, he was shocked to see someone was still awake. In fact, multiple someone’s had been awake and moving about the apartment. Remy could not hear what was being said, but he knew those faces. Scott with his red glasses, and Jean with her matching red hair, Storm with her flowing white locks, and her. His cher was sitting there entertaining them all.

She looked like she was exhausted. Not from sleep, but mentally and emotionally tired. She looked like how Remy felt being in the Void. In her hands was a mug of something warm, probably that tea she likes to drink, and one of Gambit’s jackets around her. His heart tugged at the sight, and his lips curled in a smile. She never did do well with the cold.

Picking the lock on the window, Remy silently creeped into the apartment. Their eyes had not noticed the new person in the apartment, but he noticed how quiet it had gotten. Before he could speak, his body was suspended in the air as Jean turned to face the man. But she gasped in shock and let the man go almost immediately. The rest of the party was just a second behind her.

“Now, that ain’t no way to treat da Gambit, no?” His hands began massaging his body as the other people finally reacted to the new arrival. He heard her voice whisper out his name as he stood once more.

“Cher, I’m home. I’m so sorry.” But before he got any closer, Scott stepped in front of the ladies.

“If you really are Gambit, what’s something only he would know, huh? What was the last thing he said to me?” Scott pressed, worried that this might be an imposter.

“Cyclops, really? I just got back, mon ami. We really gonna have us an inquisition right now?” But the man was not swayed.

“What was the last thing Gambit told me?”

The Cajun was looked around for someone to support him not doing this, and just wanted to lay his eyes on his girl again. But he groaned, and wiped a hand over his face in frustration.

“Gambit told ya, ‘I’ll go on the mission. Jean needs ya here. Tell my cher dat I love her.’ That was the last thing I told ya before leaving for that damn mission to go so some recon on the brotherhood.” Everyone stood down. But Scott was still unimpressed.

“Where have you been all this time? And why only come back now?” He continued, even though Jean was tugging at his sleeve.

“Went on dat mission, and touched down in da forest. Didn’t find no brotherhood, but instead some people called da TVA takin’ bunch o’ dem out. Next thing I know, I wake up in da desert in some place called the Void. Been der evea’ since. Den a Deadpool and a Wolverine fought to leave the Void, and bargained for my freedom to come back as well as others. Believe me now, Scott?” Remy was getting fed up with answering questions. All he wanted was to get her in his arms.

Before anyone could speak again, he was nearly knocked over by the weight and force of something hitting him hard and fast. Remy regained his balance and looked down to see his girl squeezing him tight. Closing his eyes, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. Hands landed on his arms, and he found Scott and Jean there on one side, with Storm on the other. Remy pulled the rest of the gang close as he relished this moment he never expected to have again.

After a few months of training, flying back to New York to go live at the school again, and a brief adjustment period to not always being on edge about who or what was going to find him, Gambit was back in the field. He did not do solo missions anymore, but he was excelling in team exercises again. This last one had kicked everyone’s butt though.

What was meant to be a simple mission of going down to help stop a mutant riot in the city, turned into a full scale brawl with the Brotherhood. In the end, they had eventually stopped the riot, but not without acquiring some scratches and bumps. The flight back to the school was a silent one; one where everyone that was not navigating the plane just wanted to rest with their eyes closed, and their brain off.

It was a smooth landing, which was a blessing. But having to walk back up was a curse. Every bone felt ten times heavier, and their feet felt like they were made of lead, but they did it. Bidding his teammates adieu, Remy continued his climb to where their room was. Thankfully, she had moved back into the mansion, having left when Remy disappeared, and was staying in their old room together. It was just like no time had passed.

Creaking the door open, he was delighted to see that she was folding some laundry with music playing somewhere in the background. Upon hearing the footsteps, she looked up, smiled, and abandoned her task.

“Remy, you’re home! Are you alright?” Her arms wrapped around him in a tight hug that made him groan.

“Ease up, cher. Ol’ Gambit done had the card house dropped on him.” Pulling away, she saw that a bruise was starting to form right underneath his chin. She traced a feather light touch over it, and furrowed her brows.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” She pleaded, worried to see what other marks he had gained in the afternoon that he had been gone.

“Non, cher. Just finish wit’ dem clothes so we can lay down, yeah? Gonna go get out of my suit now.” Gambit pressed a kiss to her lips, but was careful over the split he felt in the corner. While he went to the bathroom to change, she resumed her task of getting the laundry done.

Her mind was distracted, and worried about her lover that was just on the other side of the door. She could hear his groans and hisses, especially once the water started and he was underneath the stream. Setting out a loose shirt, and an equally loose pair of pajama pants, she went to work putting the rest of the clothes away while waiting for him to come out.

The door opened, and she just had to turn to see. Bruises started darkening already, and there were some minor scrapes, but that seemed to be the brunt of his injuries. With a towel loose around his hips, he grabbed the clothes from the bed, and sent his lover a wink. Not a seductive or even teasing wink, but rather a way to say thank you. He disappeared back into the bathroom, and she changed herself to something a bit more comfortable. As she was pulling the covers back from the bed, Remy emerged once more, with damp hair, and a fresh set of clothes on.

Gambit crawled into the plush bed, and sunk into it with a groan. She giggled, but crawled in beside her lover all the same. His arms, no matter how bruised or sore, opened wide to accept her right where she was supposed to be. They were facing each other, and her hands were tucked up against his chest to keep her close. One arm under her neck, and one around her waist, Remy kept her as close as humanly possible.

“Je t’aime, cher.” Remy whispered, pressing a kiss to her hairline as they began to drift off.

“I love you too, Remy.” She replied, feeling perfectly at peace in her spot with her lover.

[cera-writes]

Hi! So I recently got into X Men again after watching Deadpool & Wolverine and by god do I love Gambit! I found your blog and your stuff for him is so good! I do have a request for you if you don’t mind. Could I please get a spicy first time with Gambit and fem!reader? It’s not her first time with a guy but maybe there’s been some tension building up and he wants to show her what a real man can do if you know what I mean lmao. I’ll leave it pretty open ended, I trust you’ll make something awesome! ❤️

A/N: Saaaaame! My obsession with this man is unwavering 🫦 Pairing: Remy LeBeau "Gambit" x F!Reader Tags: sex in the water, pining, fluff, shy!reader, pnv sex Summary: Reader decides to take a swim in the lake by the mansion. Having never had much luck with guys in the sexual department, Remy decides to show the reader how good it can really be and joins her in the water.

A Moonlit Dip

The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the tranquil waters of the lake that nestled quietly at the edge of the X-Mansion grounds. You had slipped away from the main building, seeking a moment of solitude and perhaps a bit of refreshment in the cool water. The air was thick with the scent of pine and wildflowers, a welcome respite from the ever-present tension of mutant politics and training sessions.

As you waded into the lake, the water felt like silk against your skin, soothing the day's stresses. The gentle lapping of the waves against the shore was the only sound, save for the distant chirping of crickets preparing for nightfall. You dove under, letting the cool embrace wash over you, feeling more alive than you had all day.

Emerging from the water, you wiped the droplets from your eyes, only to find Remy LeBeau, aka Gambit, leaning casually against a nearby tree, his eyes twinkling with amusement. His usual smirk played at the corners of his lips, and he pushed off the tree, sauntering towards you. You let out an inhuman shriek, startled at seeing his face looking directly at yours. "Jesus, Gambit..." you huffed.

"Bonsoir, chérie," he drawled as he fought back the urge to laugh, his Cajun accent thickening the syllables. "Looks like I ain't the only one who knows how to find a little peace 'round here."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, not expecting company, especially not him. "Just needed a break," you admitted, treading water to keep yourself afloat, suddenly aware of how exposed you must look in the fading light.

Remy chuckled, removing his trench coat and tossing it aside. "Well, since you're already in d'ere, mind if Gambit join you?"

Before you could respond, he was peeling off his shirt, revealing a muscular chest that hinted at countless hours spent training and staying fit. After that came the rest of everything below the belt. Your breath caught in your throat as he stepped into the water, his eyes never leaving yours. The water seemed to part around him, as if welcoming its master back home.

"Ain't no gators in dis lake, mon cher," he teased, swimming closer. "But Remy reckon ya might have somethin' to worry 'bout anyway."

His proximity made the water feel suddenly warmer, the space between you charged with an electric tension that had been building for weeks. You remembered the lackluster dates, the guys who failed to ignite even a spark, and here was Remy, making your heart race with just a look. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't rubbed one out to just the sound of his accent alone as it filled your thoughts when you were by yourself.

"What would that be?" you managed to ask, your voice sounding faraway even to your own ears.

He closed the distance between you, his hands finding your waist beneath the water. "Me," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Remy seen you wit' them, chérie. Seen how d'ey couldn't hold a candle to what we could be."

His confession hung in the air, heavy and real. You turned to face him, your hands resting on his shoulders, feeling the strength beneath the smooth skin. "And what is that?" you challenged, though your voice trembled slightly.

Remy's smile was soft, almost vulnerable. "Something real, somethin' hot enough to burn away all those other cold nights." He leaned in, his lips a breath away from yours. "Let Gambit show you, belle. Lemme show you what a real man can do."

The world around you faded into insignificance as his lips met yours, soft at first, then deepening with a passion that took your breath away. His hands roamed your body, exploring, claiming, igniting fires wherever they touched. You responded in kind, your shyness melting away under his confident touch, giving in to the desire that had simmered between you both for so long.

In the water, limbs intertwined, breaths mingled, and the night seemed to hold its breath, watching the two of you explore each other with a hunger that was both new and ancient. Remy broke the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck, his hands guiding you deeper into the water, where the privacy was absolute.

"Tell Gambit whatchu want, chérie," he murmured, his voice husky with need.

You gasped as his fingers found a sensitive spot, your body arching toward his touch. "Show me," you begged, your voice breaking with emotion. "Show me everything, Remy."

With the moon as your only witness, you finally surrendered yourself to him.

With a low growl, Remy obeyed, his actions deliberate, every movement calculated to send you spiraling into pleasure. The water became an extension of his body, caressing you in ways you never imagined possible. You clung hard to him, nails digging into his skin as your world narrowed down to the sensations he elicited, the heat building within you like a dam about to break. You hissed in pleasure when he thrust even harder inside of you, feeling every inch of his hard dick throbbing inside your walls.

"Dass'it, belle," he encouraged, his voice rough with exertion. "Let go for Remy. Lemme see you fly."

And then, with a final, exquisite thrust, you did, soaring through the clouds of ecstasy, your cries mingling with his groans of satisfaction. The world came crashing back, the stars above seeming brighter, the water warmer, and Remy, more breathtaking than ever before.

He held you close, his forehead resting against yours, both of you catching your breath. "Was dat good, chérie?" he asked, his tone raw with emotion.

You nodded, unable to speak, your heart still racing from the whirlwind of sensations he had unleashed.

Remy kissed your forehead, his arms tightening around you. "We should get outta de water, cher. Night's chill settin' in."

You reluctantly had to agree.

His hand found yours as he led you out of the water, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warmth that had enveloped you moments before. The moon cast a silvery glow over the lake, making the droplets on your skin shimmer like diamonds. You shivered slightly, not from cold, but from the lingering thrill of what had just transpired between you. You'd managed to find your clothes in the dark, quickly dressing as Gambit did the same.

"Here, chere," Remy murmured, draping his coat around your shoulders. The fabric was still warm from his body, and it smelled faintly of his cologne—a mix of spice and something uniquely him. "You catch a chill, Gambit'll never forgive hisself."

You smiled up at him, feeling the weight of his concern, and more, the depth of his affection. "Thank you," you whispered, pulling the coat tighter.

He nodded, his eyes soft as they met yours. "Let's walk, yeah? Getchu warmed up proper."

Hand in hand, you strolled along the lakeside, the silence between you comfortable, filled with unspoken words. The crickets had resumed their song, and somewhere in the distance, a whippoorwill, its call echoing through the trees.

"Been wantin' to do dat for so long," Remy confessed suddenly, breaking the quiet. "Ever since dat night at the bonfire when you laughed at my terrible joke and didn't even care dat everyone else thought it was lame."

You chuckled, remembering the event he spoke of. "It wasn't that bad," you defended, though you knew he was teasing.

"Maybe not," he agreed, "but it was enough to make Remy think maybe, jus' maybe, you were different. That'chu saw me, not jus' Gambit the playboy, but Remy."

Your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice touching a place deep inside you. "I do see you," you admitted, pausing to face him under the moonlight. "All of you. The good, the bad, the Cajun charm... which I love, by the way." You'd confessed.

Remy laughed softly, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "And here Gambit thought he was bein' subtle," he joked, though his eyes remained serious. "You deserve someone who's upfront, someone who can give you all de fire ya need, chérie."

You leaned into his touch, the vulnerability between you both palpable. "And you think that's you?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Gambit know it is," he replied without hesitation, his gaze unwavering. "I wanna be de one to stand by your side, through thick and thin. To show you every day whatchu mean to me."

Tears pricked at your eyes, moved by his declaration. "Remy..." you breathed, searching for the right words.

He shook his head, placing a finger gently against your lips. "No need to say anything now. Jus' think about it, yeah? Let it sink in."

You nodded, understanding his request. This was a moment to savor, to reflect upon, not to rush through with hasty words.

They continued walking, the conversation lightening as Remy regaled you with tales of his youth in New Orleans, the mischief he and his friends had gotten into, and the lessons he had learned along the way. You listened intently, enchanted by his stories, by the man himself. You didn't think it was possible to fall for him even more but he had that charm all the same.

As the path wound closer to the mansion, Remy slowed his pace, his expression turning thoughtful. "Y'know, dere's somethin' I've always wanted to show you," he said, his tone mysterious.

Curiosity piqued, you looked up at him. "What's that?"

He grinned, the familiar glint of mischief returning to his eyes. "A secret spot, up in de hills. It's where I go when I need to clear my head, or jus' feel...free."

Your interest was piqued. "Sounds magical," you mused, imagining the possibilities.

"It is," he confirmed, his hand squeezing yours. "Maybe one day soon, Gambit'll take you de're. Show you de view, letchu feel de wind in your hair."

Excitement bubbled within you at the prospect of sharing such a personal place with him. "I'd like that a lot," you admitted, smiling.

As they reached the edge of the woods, the lights of the mansion peeking through the trees, Remy stopped once more, turning to face you fully. "Tonight was...incredible," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for lettin' me in, chérie."

You shook your head, unwilling to accept gratitude for something so mutual, so transformative. "There's nothing to thank me for," you insisted. "It was...perfect."

His smile widened, a flash of white teeth in the darkness. "Perfect, huh? Well, maybe next time we can aim for legendary d'en," he teased, his eyes twinkling.

Laughing, you nudged him playfully. "Oh, is that so? And what would make it legendary, pray tell?"

Remy leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. "How 'bout we find out together?" he whispered, his voice low and inviting.

Your pulse quickened at his suggestion, the promise of what could be hanging in the air between you. "I think I'd like that," you admitted, your voice catching ever so slightly.

With one last, lingering look, Remy turned towards the mansion, tugging you gently along. "C'mon, chere. Let's getchu inside before you turn into an ice sculpture. Gambit'll cook ya up somethin' to warm your soul."

You laughed, the sound carrying on the breeze as you followed him, your steps lighter than they had been in ages. As you walked, wrapped in his coat and his affections, you couldn't help but feel that perhaps, just perhaps, this was the beginning of something truly extraordinary, like the man himself.

[urdreamydoodles]

X-Men x Reader (Part.1)

You smacks their ass as they walk past (Part.1)

Each X-Man reacts with a mix of surprise and playful teasing when you smacks their ass as they walk past, leading to affectionate and mischievous moments.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Erik Lehnsherr, Warren Worthington III, Bobby Drake, Alex Summers, Pietro Maximoff & Jean Grey

Logan (Wolverine):

You’re in the kitchen, mindlessly going about your business, while Logan’s at the counter slicing through a loaf of bread. He’s focused, as usual, with that familiar scowl on his face that never quite leaves. The kitchen is quiet, just the hum of the fridge and the faint sounds of his knife slicing through the bread. You can’t help yourself—you watch him for a moment, admiring the way his muscles move under his tight shirt, the raw strength in every little motion. He looks so serious, so in his own world.

As you pass behind him, you smirk to yourself. It’s too tempting. Without thinking twice, you let your hand drift out, and with a sharp flick of your wrist, you smack his ass, enjoying the solid *thwack* that follows. You don’t stop, just continue walking like nothing happened, a satisfied smile curling on your lips.

Logan freezes mid-slice. For a beat, he doesn’t say a word. Then you hear the low rumble of a growl deep in his chest. “Really, darlin’?” His voice is thick, a little rough around the edges, and you can hear the amusement creeping in. He turns his head, one eyebrow raised, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You glance back at him, feigning innocence, but you can see the way his eyes darken just a bit. He drops the knife, turning slowly, taking a step toward you. His movements are deliberate, almost predatory. “You think you can just walk by like that and not face the consequences?” His voice is a low, gravelly whisper, sending shivers down your spine.

Before you can respond, Logan’s hand is on your waist, pulling you back against him. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his breath hot against your ear as he murmurs, “If you’re gonna start somethin’, sweetheart, you better be ready to finish it.” There’s a playful challenge in his voice, a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s not about to let you off the hook that easily.

Remy LeBeau (Gambit):

Remy is leaning against the couch, casually flipping through a deck of cards, as he often does when he’s bored. The two of you have been lounging around the living room all afternoon, and there’s an easy, comfortable silence between you. He’s dressed in that effortless way he always is—dark jeans that hug him in all the right places and a shirt that’s just tight enough to show off his lean muscles. He catches you looking at him, flashing you that mischievous smile, the one that makes your heart skip a beat.

You roll your eyes at him, but you’re already plotting something in your head. You stroll past him, heading toward the kitchen, but as you do, you let your hand dip down and smack his ass, hard enough to make him jump a little. You don’t stop, just keep walking like nothing happened, a satisfied smirk on your face.

“Mon dieu, cherie,” Remy’s voice comes out in a playful drawl, full of that Southern charm he’s famous for. He’s immediately on his feet, tossing the cards onto the couch and following you into the kitchen. “You really gonna hit an innocent man like dat and walk away?” You glance over your shoulder, and he’s grinning, his red-on-black eyes glowing with amusement.

Before you can get far, he’s behind you, his hands sliding around your waist, pulling you back against him. “Y’know, cher, dat’s gonna cost you somethin’,” he whispers, his lips brushing your ear. There’s a heat to his words, and you can feel the playful threat behind them. “You know what happens when you mess with de Ragin’ Cajun, right?”

He spins you around, pressing you up against the counter with that wicked grin still plastered on his face. His hands slide down your sides, landing right where you’d smacked him. “Might have t’ return de favor,” he purrs, leaning in to press a teasing kiss to your lips. “You know Remy always collects his dues, mon amour.”

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler):

You’re in the middle of tidying up the bedroom when you spot Kurt near the door, his back to you as he’s sorting through some papers. He’s muttering to himself in that soft, lilting German accent that you love so much, completely unaware of your eyes on him. His tail sways lazily behind him as he concentrates, and you can’t help but grin to yourself, an idea forming in your head.

You move silently, making your way over to him, and just as you pass by, you raise your hand and give his firm ass a playful smack. The sound is sharp in the quiet room, and you immediately keep walking, acting as if nothing had happened. But the reaction is instantaneous.

Kurt yelps in surprise, his tail flicking up and curling in the air as he turns to face you, a mix of shock and amusement on his face. “Liebling!” he exclaims, his yellow eyes wide with playful disbelief. “Did you just…?” His voice trails off as he stares at you, his mouth hanging open in mock offense.

You glance over your shoulder at him, feigning innocence. “What? I didn’t do anything,” you say with a smirk, knowing full well he doesn’t believe a word of it.

Before you can blink, there’s a familiar "bamf", and in an instant, Kurt’s teleported right in front of you, his arms wrapping around your waist as his tail curls mischievously around your leg. “Oh, so you think you can get away with that, meine Liebe?” he teases, his voice low and filled with amusement. “You know I won’t let that slide.”

His lips brush against your neck, his breath warm against your skin as he continues, “Perhaps you need a reminder of what happens when you provoke a demon.” The way he says it is both playful and sultry, sending a thrill down your spine. His tail tightens its grip on your leg, holding you in place as his hands move to your hips.

Kurt’s mischievous smile is contagious, and you can’t help but laugh as he presses a light kiss to your lips. “Next time, I might just have to teleport you somewhere… private,” he adds with a wink, his tail flicking playfully as he pulls you closer, the two of you lost in your little game.

Scott Summers (Cyclops):

You’re sitting at the dining room table, flipping through some documents when Scott walks by with his usual purposeful stride. His posture is perfect, as always, and that stern expression he wears doesn’t falter. He’s got a natural air of authority, but you’ve seen the softer side of him that few others get to witness. As he walks past you, that teasing side of you sparks to life, and without warning, you reach out and give his ass a firm smack.

The sound echoes in the quiet room, and Scott stops dead in his tracks. For a moment, you think maybe you’ve startled him too much, but then he turns slowly, adjusting his visor in that way he does when he’s trying to keep control. “Really?” he asks, his voice calm but with a hint of amusement. “You’re feeling bold today, huh?”

You grin, leaning back in your chair as if daring him to react. “What? You can’t handle a little fun?” you tease, enjoying the way his jaw clenches ever so slightly.

Scott doesn’t let himself smile, but you can see the ghost of one tugging at his lips. He strides back toward you, placing his hands on either side of your chair, leaning down until his face is mere inches from yours. His eyes are hidden behind that visor, but you know that intense gaze is focused solely on you. “You know,” he murmurs, his voice low and authoritative, “I could make this a teaching moment if you keep testing me.”

There’s a flicker of challenge in his tone, and you can’t help but shiver at the way he’s so controlled yet playful all at once. “Maybe I want to be taught a lesson,” you reply cheekily, smirking up at him.

Scott’s lips quirk into a small smile at that, and he leans in even closer, his breath brushing your skin. “Don’t start something you’re not ready to finish,” he warns softly, his tone filled with promise. You know Scott is all about discipline and control, but with you, there’s always an undercurrent of heat simmering just beneath the surface. And right now, you’re enjoying pushing all his buttons.

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto):

You’ve just finished straightening up a few things around the living room when you notice Erik standing by the window, his arms crossed and his expression distant. He’s always deep in thought, his mind constantly working through plans, strategies, and the weight of his responsibilities. But in moments like these, you love pulling him out of that serious headspace, even if just for a second.

As you walk past him, you let your hand trail along his lower back before delivering a quick, playful smack to his ass. You know it’ll catch him off guard, and sure enough, Erik’s head turns sharply toward you, a mixture of surprise and amusement flashing in his steely gaze. “Liebling,” he says slowly, his deep voice laced with a dark chuckle, “I hope you realize what you’ve just done.”

You meet his gaze with a mischievous smile, shrugging casually. “What? Can’t a person have a little fun?”

Erik narrows his eyes, though you can see the faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He steps toward you, his movements smooth and deliberate, until he’s standing directly in front of you, his towering presence almost intimidating. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” he warns, his voice low and dripping with intent.

His fingers reach out, brushing against your arm with a feather-light touch before sliding to your waist. “You should know better than to provoke me,” he continues, his tone growing softer, more menacing in a way that sends a thrill down your spine. There’s always something about Erik’s raw power that makes moments like these feel electric, like you’re on the verge of something intense.

You raise an eyebrow at him, refusing to back down. “Maybe I like living dangerously.”

Erik’s smirk widens, and without warning, he pulls you closer, his hand firm on your waist. “Careful, Liebling,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “Next time, I might not be so gentle.” His eyes gleam with the promise of something more, and you can’t help but smile, knowing that with Erik, every moment is charged with tension and passion.

Warren Worthington III (Angel):

Warren is pacing around the room, his wings fluttering slightly as he moves. He always gets restless like this, especially after long missions, and you can see the tension in his shoulders. His wings, magnificent as ever, brush against the walls with each step, and you can’t help but admire the effortless grace he carries with him.

You decide to lighten the mood, and as you walk by, you reach out and give his ass a playful smack. It’s quick, unexpected, and you’re already a few steps ahead by the time Warren stops and turns to look at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really, Y/N?” he says, a soft laugh escaping his lips. There’s a twinkle in his blue eyes, the corners of his mouth lifting into that charming smile you know so well.

“What?” you reply innocently, glancing over your shoulder at him. “Just wanted to see if you’d notice.”

Warren chuckles, shaking his head as he folds his wings neatly behind him and strides over to you. “Oh, I noticed,” he says, his voice smooth and playful, like silk brushing against your skin. He steps closer, his hand slipping around your waist, pulling you back toward him. “You’re lucky I find it cute when you get cheeky.”

You grin up at him, but before you can say anything, Warren’s lips are by your ear, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “But you should know… you’ve got my full attention now.” There’s a teasing edge to his words, and you can feel the heat of his body pressed against yours, his wings subtly enclosing around you, as if shielding the two of you from the world.

His fingers glide down your back, lingering just above where your hand had landed on him. “You know,” he whispers, his breath hot against your neck, “if you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask.” His lips brush the shell of your ear, and you can feel the playful energy between you shift into something deeper, more intimate. Warren always knows how to turn a simple moment into something unforgettable, and as his wings wrap around you, you know you’re in for more than just playful teasing tonight.

Bobby Drake (Iceman):

You’re standing by the counter, organizing some groceries while Bobby flips through a magazine at the kitchen table. His legs are kicked up, as casual as ever, when you pass by. Feeling playful, you give his ass a swift smack as you move past him. The sound echoes in the small space, and it’s enough to catch his attention immediately.

Bobby jerks, almost spilling his drink in surprise, before whipping around to face you, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed from both the slap and embarrassment. “Woah! Y/N, what was that for?” he asks, though there’s no hiding the grin pulling at his lips.

You shrug, flashing him an innocent look. “Just making sure you’re awake.”

He laughs, shaking his head as he stands up, crossing the room to stand next to you. “Oh, I’m awake now, alright,” he teases, sliding his arms around your waist, his touch cool against your skin. “I didn’t know you had it in you to get so… bold.”

His playful tone matches the mischievous glint in his eyes, and you can’t help but laugh along with him. “What? You can’t handle a little fun?” you challenge, enjoying the light banter between you two.

Bobby leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmurs, “I can handle anything you throw at me, but don’t think I’ll let you get away with that.” His voice is laced with a teasing edge, and you feel a cool breeze sweep through the room, a subtle reminder of the icy powers he wields. You know he’s up to something, but before you can react, he presses a quick kiss to your neck and steps back with a wink. “You’re gonna pay for that, you know.”

Alex Summers (Havok):

Alex is sprawled out on the couch, looking through some reports when you walk by. His feet are up, and there’s a focused look on his face, the kind he always wears when he’s trying to deal with the endless responsibilities of being an X-Man. You take the opportunity as you pass, leaning over to give his ass a firm smack, catching him completely off guard.

Alex sits up instantly, his eyes narrowing playfully as he turns to you. “Did you just…?” he starts, not quite believing what just happened. He’s still processing it, a mix of amusement and shock spreading across his face.

You grin, crossing your arms as you raise an eyebrow. “What? Just thought I’d remind you who’s boss around here,” you tease, knowing it’ll get a rise out of him.

Alex chuckles, shaking his head as he stands up, his presence commanding yet relaxed. “Oh, is that right?” he asks, his voice low, a hint of mischief lacing his words. He walks toward you, closing the space between you quickly. “Well, I think you’re about to find out that I don’t take orders so easily.”

His hands find your waist, pulling you flush against him. You can feel the heat radiating off his skin, his energy always simmering just beneath the surface. “You like playing with fire, huh?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Careful, Y/N… you might just get burned.”

The tension between you sizzles, and there’s a playful challenge in his eyes as he leans in closer. Alex has always had that perfect balance of power and charm, and moments like this remind you just how intoxicating he can be.

Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver):

Pietro is a blur of motion, zipping around the room as he organizes everything at lightning speed. You’ve gotten used to his constant fast-paced movements, but that doesn’t stop you from messing with him whenever you get the chance. As he darts past you, you reach out, timing it perfectly to give his ass a swift smack.

In a flash, Pietro skids to a halt, spinning around to face you, his eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and excitement. “Did you just smack me?” he asks, his voice incredulous but laced with laughter. “I didn’t even see that coming!”

You grin, leaning against the counter as you shrug casually. “Maybe you’re losing your touch, Speedy.”

Pietro narrows his eyes playfully, zipping right in front of you in the blink of an eye. He’s so close, you can feel the rush of air from his speed. “Losing my touch? Oh, you’re in for it now,” he teases, his lips curling into that trademark smirk that always makes your heart race.

Before you can respond, he leans in, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re lucky I find this little game of yours amusing,” he murmurs, his voice a low purr. “But don’t think for a second I won’t get you back. Faster than you can blink.”

Pietro’s hand slides down your side, and you can feel the energy buzzing off him, the tension between you electric. His eyes gleam with mischief as he tilts his head slightly. “Next time you try that, you better be ready to run,” he warns, but there’s no real danger in his tone—only the promise of more playful banter to come.

Jean Grey:

Jean is standing at the stove, her mind likely a million miles away as she stirs something in the pot. You’ve always loved watching her in these quiet moments, the way her hair seems to glow in the soft light, her expression so calm and serene. As you walk by, you decide to playfully break the stillness and give her a quick, teasing smack on the ass.

Jean gasps in surprise, her stirring hand freezing mid-motion as she looks over her shoulder at you, eyes wide with a mix of shock and amusement. “Y/N!” she exclaims, her voice half-laughing, half-scolding. You can see the blush rising on her cheeks, and it only makes your grin widen.

“What?” you reply innocently, trying your best to look like you didn’t just commit the playful act. “I couldn’t resist.”

Jean sets the spoon down and turns fully toward you, hands on her hips, but there’s a sparkle in her eyes. “You’re trouble, you know that?” she says, though the smile tugging at her lips betrays any attempt at a stern tone.

Before you can respond, you feel a subtle tug in your mind—Jean’s way of playfully reminding you she’s always got the upper hand when it comes to your little games. She steps closer, her fingers brushing lightly against your arm. “You know I could have you pinned with a single thought,” she teases, her voice soft yet teasing. “But I think I’ll let you off the hook this time… unless you want me to show you what happens when you mess with a telepath.”

You raise an eyebrow, feeling the warmth of her body as she presses closer, her lips ghosting over your ear. “Think you’re fast enough to get away next time?” she whispers, her breath hot against your skin, leaving you anticipating her next move.

[awkward-walking-potato]

Would you do a request for Gambit with a partner with anxiety? I love fluff and I so don't feel like there's enough Remy fluff out there 😭

Steady as a Card in the Wind

The night air was warm, the sky above the New Orleans skyline clear, with stars twinkling faintly against the inky blackness. Remy LeBeau—better known as Gambit—sat on the balcony of his apartment, a deck of cards flipping effortlessly between his fingers. He loved the quiet moments like this, the times when the city seemed to settle into a peaceful hum, and he could just breathe.

But tonight, his mind wasn’t at ease. He glanced over his shoulder at the open door leading into the apartment, where you had retreated not too long ago. You had been quiet all evening, quieter than usual. The subtle signs of your anxiety had been there—your fidgeting hands, the way your eyes kept darting around the room as if looking for something to anchor you, and the way you’d withdrawn into yourself, your usual bright demeanor overshadowed by something heavier.

Remy sighed, setting the cards down on the small table beside him. He hated seeing you like this, hated that there was something gnawing away at your peace of mind, and that he didn’t know how to fix it. He had always prided himself on being able to read people, to charm his way through almost any situation, but when it came to you and your anxiety, he often felt helpless.

But he wasn’t about to let you suffer alone.

He stood up, slipping through the door and into the dimly lit living room. You were curled up on the couch, a blanket pulled around your shoulders even though the night was warm. You hadn’t turned on any lights, and the only illumination came from the soft glow of the streetlights outside.

“Chère,” Remy said softly, his voice a gentle caress in the stillness of the room. “You alright?”

You glanced up at him, trying to muster a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Yeah… I’m fine, Remy. Just… tired, I guess.”

He knew you well enough to know that was only half the truth. Your anxiety had a way of creeping in, taking hold, and making even the simplest things feel overwhelming. And right now, it was clear that it was getting the better of you.

Remy crossed the room, sinking down onto the couch beside you. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his touch light and careful, as if you were something fragile that might break if he wasn’t gentle enough.

“You know, you don’t gotta put up a front with me, ma chère,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “I can tell somethin’s on your mind.”

You looked down at your hands, the weight of his gaze almost too much to bear. “It’s just… I don’t know. Everything feels like too much lately. Like I’m not doing enough, or like I’m just not enough. It’s stupid, I know, but I can’t help it.”

Remy’s heart ached at your words. He’d seen this before, the way your mind could twist things, make you doubt yourself, make you feel small. And he hated that there wasn’t a simple fix, that he couldn’t just take away all that pain with a snap of his fingers.

But he knew better than to dismiss your feelings or try to downplay what you were going through. Anxiety wasn’t something that could be reasoned away; it was a constant battle, one that you faced every day. And all he wanted was to be there for you, to help you fight it in any way he could.

“It ain’t stupid, chère,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Your feelin’s are real, and they’re valid. Don’t ever think you gotta apologize for feelin’ how you feel.”

You leaned into him slightly, your shoulder brushing against his. “I just don’t want to drag you down with me.”

Remy wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer until you were tucked against his side. The warmth of his body was comforting, his steady heartbeat a reminder that you weren’t alone. “You ain’t draggin’ me down, ma belle. We’re in this together, remember? When you’re feelin’ low, I’m here to lift you up. And when you’re feelin’ strong, I’ll be right beside you, cheerin’ you on.”

You let out a shaky breath, your anxiety still coiled tight in your chest, but the weight of it felt a little more manageable with Remy beside you. “I’m trying, Remy. I really am. It just feels like… like my mind won’t stop racing, and I can’t keep up.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment as if he could will his own strength into you. “I know, chère. I know it’s hard. But you’re stronger than you think. You’ve been through so much already, and you’re still here, still fightin’. That ain’t nothin’ to scoff at.”

You closed your eyes, leaning into his warmth. “I just wish it didn’t feel so overwhelming all the time.”

Remy’s hand traced soothing circles on your back, his touch steady and reassuring. “It’s okay to feel overwhelmed sometimes. And it’s okay to lean on me when you do. You don’t gotta face this alone.”

The sincerity in his voice brought a lump to your throat, and you blinked back tears. “Thank you, Remy. For always being here for me.”

He tilted your chin up with a gentle finger, his red-on-black eyes locking onto yours. “Ain’t nowhere else I’d rather be, chère. You’re my world, you know that? I’d do anythin’ to see you smile again.”

You managed a small, genuine smile this time, the love and concern in his eyes enough to chip away at the walls your anxiety had built up. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Remy.”

He chuckled softly, the sound like music in the quiet room. “Oh, ma belle, it’s me who’s the lucky one. You’re the best thing that ever happened to this ol’ thief.”

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his, and for a moment, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in this quiet, comforting space. Remy’s presence, his love, was like a lifeline, grounding you when everything else felt out of control.

“Let’s get outta here for a bit, huh?” he suggested after a few moments. “Clear your head, get some fresh air. We’ll take a walk by the river, and I’ll show you some of my favorite spots in the city.”

You hesitated, the thought of leaving the apartment a little daunting, but the idea of being out in the open, with Remy by your side, was appealing. “Okay. Yeah, that sounds nice.”

He smiled, a real, genuine smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Good. C’mon, chère. Let’s get goin’ before I change my mind and decide to keep you all to myself here.”

You laughed, a sound that felt good to let out after the tension of the evening. “Lead the way, Gambit.”

Remy stood up, offering you his hand, and you took it, letting him pull you to your feet. He kept hold of your hand as you both stepped out onto the balcony and then made your way down to the street below. The night air was cool and refreshing, and the sound of the city’s heartbeat—a mix of music, laughter, and the occasional car horn—was a soothing backdrop to the quiet conversation that flowed between you and Remy as you walked.

As you wandered through the streets of New Orleans, hand in hand, Remy pointed out the places that held special meaning for him—an old jazz club where he’d spent many nights listening to music, a little park where he’d often gone to clear his head, a hidden alley where the two of you had once shared a stolen kiss, laughing as you ran from the rain.

With each step, each story, the tightness in your chest began to ease, and you felt a little more like yourself again. Remy’s presence, his love and unwavering support, was a balm to your anxious heart, and as the night went on, you found yourself smiling more, laughing more, feeling lighter than you had in days.

By the time you returned to the apartment, the weight of your anxiety had lifted just enough for you to breathe easier. Remy led you back inside, and as you settled onto the couch together, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, knowing that no matter how dark your thoughts got, you’d always have him to help guide you back to the light.

And as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you knew that with Remy by your side, you’d never have to face your fears alone.

[taintandviolent]

If you're still doing the drabbles could you please do one for Gambit/female reader with #40 please? Love your writing!

warnings: making out, feeling boners.... 'das it. // i'm sorry this is so late!!!

He’s out on a mission, and it’s been days, but your brain is flooded with thoughts of Remy Lebeau. You can’t stop thinking about him, about where he is, what he’s doing, who he’s with, and most importantly, what’s taking precedence in your mind, is when you’re going to be near him again. 

Why? Because, almost a week ago, he’d kissed you in the kitchen when no one else was around, and it was easily one of the best kisses you’ve ever experienced in your entire life. It was warm, smooth and deep, the kind of kiss that lingers, the kind of kiss that leaves you licking your lips like a child licking a sticky sweetness off of their lips. And yet, he hadn’t even used tongue. It was just that good.

It feels like an arduous task, but you somehow manage to focus on something else for a little while – a brief workout. The reprieve is short-lived because eventually, thoughts creep back in, and you’re left frustrated, trying to tame your hunger for that man. You throw the towel over your shoulder, and head down the hallway to your room. 

In a flurry of motion, his jacket flaring out behind him, Remy captures you in his arms. You hadn’t heard him or the others come back, so the surprise is evident on your face when he urges you back against the wall. 

“Well, hi.”

Your eyes sparkle as you stare at him, taking in the visuals of the man you’ve been literally dreaming about for days.

“I wanna’ taste you on my lips again, chere.”His mouth hovers over yours, like he’s asking for permission, even though he doesn’t have to. 

God, he never has to. You’re still pressed up against the wall, his body pinning you to it. You can feel the rigidness of his armor, the leather of his gloves as they trail up your bare arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

You nod and crush your mouth against his, hungrily. His tongue darts out, sweeping across your bottom lip swiftly. You open your mouth, granting him access and his tongue tangles with yours, tasting every inch of your mouth. You bring your hands to the side of his face, to pull him closer to you, but also just to feel him, to touch him. You tilt your head, deepening the kiss and he responds by doing the same, letting his hands wrap around your waist, fingers pressing into the small of your back. 

You don’t know what it is that you have with Remy Lebeau, but what you do know is that if he keeps kissing you the way he’s kissing you now, you’re going to lead him back to your room and lock the door. 

“You know how much I missed you?” He breaks the kiss, but his lips are still so close to yours, you can feel his hot breath rushing out over them. 

You shake your head. Remy’s hand finds yours, and tugs it over his groin, laying it over his hard, aching cock. The bulge that meets your hand is hot and begging for release, straining against the tight fabric. In a slow motion, he urges his hips tighter against your hand, and you grip it outside the fabric. 

Apprehensive, you toss a glance down the hallway, checking for anyone else. You two are alone for the time being. Gently, Remy pulls your face back to his, unhappy with your attention being elsewhere. His hand comes down atop yours, pressing your hand harder into his swelling dick. 

“Remy,” you murmur, looking at his face. “You don’t know how much I’ve been thinking about you… you don’t wanna’ know.” 

“Oh, cher… I think I do.”

[librababe99]

Ashes of Desire

CW: emotional manipulation, violence, danger, angst...

Summary: On a humid New Orleans night, you’re drawn to the dangerously magnetic Remy LeBeau, despite every warning. His red eyes and easy charm pull you into a whirlwind of stolen kisses and whispered secrets. Word Count: 1548

AN: Last post for the night y'all and I swear I'll leave your timelines alone😂❤️ I feel like I've been writing a lot of angst? But I honestly love it LOL---I hope you enjoy and as always comments/feedback are appreciated! - Libra * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

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The humid New Orleans night clung to you like a second skin, the air heavy with the scent of rain and the whispers of secrets lurking in every shadowed corner. Bourbon Street was alive, pulsing with the vibrant energy of the city—jazz music spilling from open doors, laughter mingling with the clinking of glasses, the occasional shout cutting through the noise. But none of it reached your ears. Your focus was singular, unwavering, fixed on the figure leaning casually against the brick wall just beyond the reach of the neon lights.

Remy LeBeau.

He was every bit the enigma you’d always known him to be—cool, composed, with an air of danger that clung to him like the night itself. His red eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, a predatory gleam that set your nerves on edge and made your pulse quicken. You knew better. You knew the stories, the warnings whispered by those who had crossed paths with the infamous Gambit and lived to tell the tale. He was a thief, a rogue, a man with more blood on his hands than you cared to think about. But there was something about him, something dark and magnetic that drew you in like a moth to a flame, even when you knew you were going to get burned.

He pushed off the wall with a lazy grace, his smirk deepening as he sauntered toward you, each step deliberate, measured. The slick cobblestones beneath his boots barely made a sound. The narrow alleyway you had cornered him in felt suddenly too small, too intimate, the walls pressing in on you as the space between you dwindled.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he drawled, his voice thick with that unmistakable Cajun accent that sent shivers down your spine. His gaze flickered over you, a mix of amusement and something darker, something that made your heart race in a way that had nothing to do with fear. His eyes were unreadable, a storm behind a veil of indifference, and yet, you couldn’t look away.

“I could say the same about you,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady, trying to ignore the way his presence seemed to fill the alleyway, crowding out everything else. You had come here tonight with a purpose, but now that you were face-to-face with him, you weren’t sure what that purpose was anymore.

He chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that curled around your insides like smoke. “Always de stubborn one, ain’t ya, chère?” he said, closing the distance between you in two strides. He reached out, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face, and the contact sent a shock through your system. Your skin tingled where he touched you, a stark contrast to the cold fear creeping up your spine.

“Chère, you keep playin’ dis game, but you don’t even know the rules,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, the words a warning and a promise all at once.

Your breath hitched as his hand lingered on your cheek, the warmth of his skin making you acutely aware of just how close he was. You wanted to pull away, to put some distance between you, but your body betrayed you, leaning into his touch instead, craving the warmth and the danger that came with it.

“I know enough,” you whispered, though the words felt hollow, even to your own ears. What were you doing? What did you hope to achieve? This man was danger personified, a storm wrapped in charm and lies, and yet, here you were, drawn to him like an addict to their poison.

His eyes darkened, a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place passing through them—something that made your chest tighten painfully. “Maybe,” he said softly, almost as if he were talking to himself. “But sometimes, knowin’ ain’t enough to save you.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and ominous, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of regret in his eyes, a vulnerability so fleeting you almost doubted you’d seen it at all. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the familiar mask of nonchalance that he wore like armor.

“You think I’m gonna save you, chère?” he teased, leaning in closer, his breath hot against your ear, sending another shiver down your spine. “’Cause I ain’t no hero. Never been, never will be.”

“I don’t need saving,” you snapped, finding your voice again, even as your heart hammered in your chest. “Especially not from you.”

The smirk that curled his lips was sharp, dangerous, and it made something inside you twist painfully. “Dat’s where you’re wrong, ma belle. I’m the one you should be runnin’ from.”

But you couldn’t run. Not now. Not after you’d come this far, not after everything that had led you to this moment. And that’s how you found yourself tangled up in his arms, lips crashing together in a kiss that was more desperation than passion, a collision of need and fear and something else you couldn’t name. It was a mistake. You knew that. But in that moment, with the world spinning around you and the taste of him on your tongue, it was the only thing that felt real.

He kissed you like he was drowning, like you were the last breath of air he’d ever have, and you let him. You let him because for once, you wanted to be the one who made him feel something, anything. Even if it was just for a moment.

But it wasn’t just a moment.

It was a series of stolen kisses, whispered words in the dark, and nights spent in each other’s arms, pretending that this—whatever it was—could be something more. You told yourself it was just a fling, just a game, but deep down, you knew it was a lie.

You were falling for him. And it was going to destroy you.

Because Remy LeBeau was not a man who could be saved. He was a storm, wild and unpredictable, and you were caught in the eye of it, helpless to do anything but watch as everything you knew was torn apart.

He warned you. He told you to stay away. But you didn’t listen. You thought you could handle it, handle him, but now you were drowning in the mess you’d made, and there was no one to pull you out.

And Remy? He was still there, still holding you close, but you could see the cracks in his façade, the way he looked at you like he was waiting for the inevitable. He wasn’t going to save you. He was going to drag you down with him, and there was nothing either of you could do to stop it.

“Remy,” you whispered one night, your voice barely audible over the sound of rain pattering against the window. The city outside was alive, but in that quiet room, it felt like you were the only two people in the world. “What are we doing?”

He didn’t answer right away, just held you tighter, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, as if he could memorize the feel of you beneath his touch. “Survivin’, chère,” he said finally, his voice rough and tired. “We’re just survivin’.”

But you both knew it was more than that. You weren’t surviving—you were burning. And sooner or later, there would be nothing left but ashes.

But even as that truth hung heavy between you, you couldn’t let go. You couldn’t walk away. Because as much as it hurt, as much as it tore you apart, you needed him. And that was the most dangerous thing of all.

So you stayed. You stayed even though you knew it was killing you, even though you knew that every kiss, every touch, was another step closer to the edge.

The nights grew longer, the days more unbearable as the weight of your choices pressed down on you. Remy was a constant presence, always there in the shadows of your mind, a reminder of everything you were trying to escape and everything you couldn’t bear to lose. The more time you spent with him, the more you felt the edges of your sanity fray, the more you felt yourself slipping further into the abyss.

You began to notice the small things, the things that only someone who was hopelessly entangled would see—the way his laughter never quite reached his eyes, the way his hands would tremble just slightly when he thought you weren’t looking. The way he would watch you when he thought you were asleep, his expression soft and almost…broken.

But those moments of vulnerability were fleeting, gone as soon as they appeared, replaced by the mask you had come to know so well. He was still Remy LeBeau, the charming, dangerous thief who could steal your breath with a smile and break your heart with a whisper. He was still the storm you had foolishly decided to weather, even as it tore your world apart.

And when the end came—because it would come, you knew that now—it would be on his terms, not yours.

Because Remy LeBeau was a thief, and he had stolen more than just your heart.

He had stolen your soul.

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Taglist: @venssu

[melefim]

Dead Boy Detectives- Moves, Incidents, and Cases Masterlist

Do you like lists? So do I! For my last Dead Boy Detectives Rewatch, I copied down every Move, Incident, and Case mentioned or seen onscreen in the show!

All are listed below, with the episode number in parentheses after each one.

(Two cases, Niko Sasaki and the Devlin House, appear in more than one category. For each listing, the number shows the first time it appeared in that category, which is not necessarily the same episode the case itself appeared in)

Full lists after the cut- As always, enjoy and please let me know if I missed anything!

Moves:

The Old Bait & Matchbook Gambit (1)

The Old Die & Go Seek Maneuver (3)

The Old Run For Our Lives Maneuver (3)

The Old Poke & Prod (6)

The Crystal Method (rejected names: The Esther Bester, Crystal Shroom Persuasion) (6)

The Old Shill & Dash Play (7)

Incidents:

The Infamous Puppy Debacle of ’94 (1)

The Great Chewing Gum Debacle of ’06 (2)

The Great Fenwick Pixie Escape of ’07 (5)

Past cases:

The Case of the Shrieking Doll (1)

The Case of the Drowned Diver (4)

The Case of the Ghastly Greenhouse (6)

Port Townsend potential case board:

Evil Seagull/ Severed Foot (3)

Astral Plane Crash (3)

Phantom Migraine (3)

Bedeviled Teacher (3)

Shrieking Secretary (3)

Disembodied Dog (3)

Haunted Painting (3)

Possessed Fireman (3)

Case of the Devlin House (3)

Phantom Yodeler (6)

Undead Milkman (6)

Doppelganger Gang (6)

Sentient Pants (6)

Restless Piano Syndrome (6)

Sticky Cricket Wicket (6)

Gargoyle in Garage (6)

Active cases:

Drowning victim who can’t move on without his boat (6)

Banker needs his lucky coin (6)

Cases solved during the show:

Museum Haunting (1)

Crystal Palace (1-8)

Becky Aspen (1)

Dandelion Sprites/Niko Sasaki (2)

Haunted Painting (told client how to break curse himself) (3)

Devlin House (3)

Lighthouse Leapers (4)

Two Dead Dragons (5)

Creeping Forest (6)

Cards on the office case board:

Museum Haunting (1)

Niko Sasaki (8)

The Devlin House (8)

Run Ragged Dogs (8)

That Thing We Couldn’t [rest of card out of frame] (8)

Sundevil Slip (8)

Solved cases mentioned by The Principal:

The Devlins (8)

The Vernons (8)

Moy Fitzgibbons (8)

The Jollity Twins (8)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And if you like lists of things like I do, you can check out my other Dead Boy Detective ones here!

When Charles’ shirt color changes

George Rextrew’s Edwin comic inspo board

Soundtrack timestamps

Swearing Stats Masterlist

First pass at finding where the songs in the score are used- full post with timestamps in progress.

[iamadyingangel]

[rosiestalez]

LOVELY PLEASE. I need some Gambit angst. The angst where Gambit loves Rogue and he will never love you like he does her. I NEED IT. I NEED TO CRY.

Oh my gosh, y’all just LOVE angst dont y’all. I was working on something like this request before i got it, and i’m glad i finished this! Maybe i’ll make a part two to this! i have a good amount of requests and i’m getting them as quickly as i can thank you for understanding!

The Rules of the Game

Remy LeBeau x gn!reader

summary: Remy tells you something after 1 year of marriage!

warnings: ANGSTY ASF, cursing, a lot of alcohol is mentioned, i think that’s it. Picture from Pinterest

Happy reading 🫶

——————————————————————

It’s a rainy night; the soft sound of rain knocks on the windows, creating a gentle rhythm that fills the quiet house. The book in your hands is illuminated by the warm glow of the fire Remy lit before heading downstairs to play poker with his friends. The crackle of the fire mixes with the faint laughter rising from the basement, but the peaceful ambiance begins to fade as you hear the unmistakable sound of Remy stumbling upstairs, clearly drunk.

The kitchen cupboards bang open and shut, and you can hear him muttering curses in French under his breath.

“You okay, darlin’?” you call out from the couch, pushing your glasses up your nose. You turn away from your book, your gaze lingering on the kitchen. “Need some help?”

“I’m good, cherie, just tryna fin' my liquor,” he slurs in response, his words thick with alcohol.

Sighing, you reluctantly get up from your cozy spot and stroll into the kitchen. Without a word, you pull a brand-new bottle of Jack Daniel’s from the pantry and hand it to him.

“Oh, mon cherie, thank ya! You’re too kind to me!” he says, kissing your forehead clumsily before snatching the bottle from your hand and disappearing back downstairs. You roll your eyes, shaking your head at his drunken gratitude, and return to the couch, diving back into your book.

As the night wears on, the fire begins to dim, and the laughter from below grows louder, echoing through the house. You glance at the clock—almost 1 a.m. Deciding it’s time to call it a night, you snuff out the fire and finish the last sip of your wine. Heading upstairs to the bedroom, you strip out of your clothes, tossing them into the hamper, and slip on a silk purple nightdress. The plush sheets of your California King bed welcome you, and you soon drift off.

Hours later, the mattress dips beside you, pulling you from your sleep. You glance at the clock: 3:00 a.m. With a sigh, you feel Remy’s arm wrap around you, pulling you close.

“Rem—”

“Shhh, go back to sleep. I ain’t mean to wake you up, amour,” he whispers, kissing the back of your neck as he brushes your hair out of the way.

“You’re makin’ it kinda hard, sugar,” you reply, letting your Southern accent lace the words with frustration.

“Sorry, jus’ miss you… you didn’t come down to see me.”

“My bad. My book was really good,” you chuckle lightly, though deep down, your thoughts are elsewhere. You can’t shake the discomfort of knowing Rogue, the woman who broke Remy’s heart, is downstairs playing cards. But you decide to save that for when he’s sober. “Good night, Rem.”

You try to let go of the irritation, but it lingers as your meemaw’s words echo in your mind: *Never let the sun go down on your anger, darling.*

The sun is already creeping through the curtains when the sound of vomiting startles you awake. “Damn it,” you mutter, pulling yourself out of bed. In the bathroom, you find Remy pathetically bent over the toilet, retching out the remnants of the previous night.

“Baby? You okay?” you ask gently. He gives you a weak thumbs-up, still hunched over the toilet. You hurry to the kitchen, grab an ice pack, and place it on the back of his neck, holding his auburn hair out of the way. “That’s it, get it all out,” you murmur, rubbing his back in comforting circles.

After several minutes, you help him into a cool shower, washing his hair and handing him an aspirin along with an anti-nausea pill. Once he’s cleaned up, he brushes his teeth and joins you in the living room, squinting dramatically at the light as if it were torture.

As the two of you stand across from each other in the kitchen, you can feel the tension brewing. He knows something’s on your mind, but he waits, sensing the storm coming.

“Why was she here?” you finally ask, your voice tight with emotion.

“Who?” he responds, though there’s a hint of annoyance in his tone.

“Rogue. Why… was… she… here?” you ask again, hugging your arms to your chest. A flicker of sadness crosses your face, but it quickly hardens into something more.

He sighs heavily, running a hand over his face, clearly frustrated. The two of you had been married for about a year now, ever since Rogue left him at the altar. You had been his solace, the one who helped him pick up the pieces of his broken heart. But sometimes, it still felt like you were competing with a ghost.

“Y/N, please, not today,” he says softly.

“Not today?” you huff, your sadness turning into anger. “What the hell do you mean, ‘not today’?” Your voice takes on the sharp edge of your Georgia accent. “Remy, is there something you need to tell me? Did you sleep with her?”

He looks at you incredulously, as if the accusation is absurd. “Y/N, I’m not sleepin’ with her. Oh mon Dieu!” His frustration is palpable as he walks away, grabbing his shoes and the jacket hanging by the door.

“Remy, where are you going?” you shout after him, your anger boiling over.

“Out,” he says flatly, slamming the door behind him.

“Shit,” you mutter, slapping the door with your palm before storming off to the bedroom. You throw yourself onto the bed, eyes welling with tears. Clutching his pillow, you sob into it, your heart aching. *What is he not telling me?* The tears come in waves—anger, jealousy, sadness, all tumbling out uncontrollably. His scent lingers on the pillow, and for a fleeting moment, you consider tearing it to shreds. But you can’t. Despite everything, your heart still swells with love for him.

Eventually, exhaustion overtakes you, and you fall into a fitful sleep, alone in the bed you share with him.

Hours later, the sound of the door creaking open pulls you from sleep. You hear it close softly behind him, the house trembling slightly. Glancing at the clock, you see it’s noon.

You wipe the tear stains from your cheeks and gather the strength to get out of bed. After rinsing your face, you make your way downstairs to find Remy sitting on the couch, whiskey in hand, soft jazz playing from the TV. His eyes are fixed on the dark screen.

“Rem, I’m s—”

He cuts you off, patting the spot beside him. “Sit,” he says quietly. His gaze burns into you as you take your place on the couch, pulling the blanket over yourself for warmth. The room feels cold—colder than usual.

“Mon amour, we gotta talk, like adults, yeah?” You nod, unable to speak, afraid the dam will break again if you do. He hands you a glass of wine that’s already sitting on the table, waiting for you.

“I can’t love you the way I loved Anna-Marie,” he says, his tone serious. The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your body goes rigid, heat rising in your chest as you struggle to understand.

“W-what?” you manage to squeak, the words barely escaping your lips.

“We had somethin’ for years,” he continues.

Your eyes flick to the wedding band on his finger, then to yours, and back again. “Then why did you marry me?” you ask, your voice trembling.

“Because I love you,” he says, placing his hand on yours, trying to reassure you.

“This doesn’t make sense, Remy.” A tear slips down your cheek. “I’m so confused.”

“I can’t help my feelings, cherie. Feelings are feelings. I can’t change that.”

“Yes, you can,” you sob. “Remy, you’re the only man I’ve ever loved. I could never even *think* of having feelings for anyone from my past and then marrying you out of convenience.”

“Cherie, I didn’t marry you out of convenience,” he pleads.

“Then why did you marry me?” you ask, your voice cracking. The tears flow freely now, and your heart feels as if it’s being ripped apart.

Remy sees the pain in your swollen, red eyes. He knows he’s broken something precious.

“Y/N, I—”

“No, don’t you dare,” you interrupt, pointing a finger at him. You stand up abruptly, storming to the bathroom and slamming the door behind you. Sliding down against the door, you cry into your knees, your body trembling with the weight of it all.

*What does this mean for us?* you wonder. *How do we move forward? Can we even fix this?*

[anzulvr]

ʚɞ On Purpose Karma x (fem) Reader || Chapter: 1 ୨୧

001 Game Time || Next

[Name] was standing behind the chain-link fence, wide-eyed and immersed in the E-class VS A-class baseball game exhibition.

"You can't seriously be interested in this— since when are you a sports fan?" Kaho scoffed.

"Since today?" Truthfully, [Name] wasn't all that interested in the game, her eyes were set on Karma.

"Oh I get it, you've got a thing for one of the players!"

"What? No! Where'd you get that from?!"

"Shindo right? Don't worry, I won't tell!" Kaho noted with a breathy laugh.

[Name] nodded fervently. It was better for Kaho to believe [Name] liked Shindo rather than word get out that she was dating Karma.

It was Karma's idea to keep everything on the down low, that way people wouldn't give her a hard time for being with him.

"Batter number eight, left fielder, Akabane." The commentator on the speaker brought her attention back to the field.

Karma stayed in place, all eyes were on him.

"Hang on, never pegged you as the type to play dirty, sir. If the rules haven't changed this little gambit ain't legal, they're bogarting the infield umpire should have called 'em on it by now."

His voice grew in confidence by the second, "Oh come on, anyone else smell a rat or is it just me?"

Karma turned to face the fence where most of the main campus was spectating from.

"Oh never mind, you guys are morons! Baseballs like a foreign language to ya!"

[Names] peers collectively grew angry, yelling insults back at him. Karma took it all in stride, turning back with a smile, happy to have elicited a response.

No one expected E class to play this well, even Shindo looked defeated, Kunugigaokas star player was struggling to get a hit against the lowest ranked class.

"Preed, do you mind getting us something to drink?" Kaho half-heartedly requested.

"Yeah I've got you, I'll be back!" He scurried off instantly, anything Kaho asked from him went.

"Kaho… don't you think this is a little much?" [Name] asked.

"It's not like they'll find out. Guys are such idiots."

Kaho dated a lot but not out of love, she got a kick out of toying with people, or maybe she wanted to feel loved, [Name] couldn't know for sure, she was only able to make assumptions based on what she saw on the exterior since Kaho wasn't the type to speak vulnerably.

"You're with three guys this time, and Preed is nice, I feel bad." [Name] said disapprovingly, she kept her tone hushed and careful no one was listening in.

"He'll live… Are you with me or against me?"

"Okay, Okay sorry."

If Kaho wasn't with Preed, she was with Seo or Yozo. [Name] couldn't go a day without third wheeling, ever since Karma was moved down to end class she hadn't had anyone else to hang out with.

Who knew baseball could be so intense? At some point Karma dodged a bat to the face by the millisecond, eventually, the game ended, the speakers blasted for the final announcement.

"The game is over, I can't even— this is insane… the winner is, I never thought I'd say this but the winner is E-class…!"

The students from the main campus complained about the loss as they left, the only people cheering were in end class themselves.

"Preed still isn't back, I'll go look for him, see you around [Name]." Kaho sighed on her way out.

[Name] pulled her phone out and sent Karma a message.

message start

[Name] Meet me at the small building to my left?

Karma looked around the field until his eyes caught yours, his focus went back to your contact as he typed out a reply.

[Karma] Yeah just a second Ill have to make an excuse

message end

"What are you smiling about Karma?" Rio grinned while trying to get a peek at his phone from behind his shoulder, unfortunately for her, he could sense her creeping up on him before she got the chance.

"I'm getting a call, I'll meet back with everyone in a few!"

Once he was out of earshot Rio turned to Hinano "What's he lying for? I wasn't able to read his screen but I know he wasn't getting a call."

"That's suspicious… What if he's hiding a girl!" Says Hinano "Or a body!" Fuwa chimes in

"Out of those two outcomes the body seems more plausible…" Rio laughs, she tilts her head as if she's got a brilliant idea, "Hey Ritsu, you should listen in on what he's doing through his phone!"

"I shouldn't eavesdrop… I told everyone I wouldn't do anything without full consent."

Unfortunately for Ritsu, Rio's knack for sweet-talking has always been unmatched, "Exactly! As his friends we have to look out for him, we can't do that if he's sneaking around all the time, doing this would make you such a caring friend!"

"I'd be caring…? I guess that makes sense, okay I'll do it for friendship!" Ritsu, who’s new to all sorts of human emotions and expressions, naively gathers up her resolve. Now she’s just as involved as the rest of the group.

ᝰ ♡

Karma put his batting helmet on [Name's] head "Sorry you had to watch us destroy your class on the field." He bragged, not anything new.

"I was rooting for you, keeping my poker face was hard!"

"Your eyes were shaped like hearts and you were practically foaming at the mouth, your poker face could use some work."

"I was not! Anyway, how are things in E class? You look pretty close with everyone." [Name] turned the topic around.

"Is that jealousy I hear? Cute, but don't worry [Name] I still like you best."

"I'm not jealous! Just a little worried, the way Mr. Ono decided to send you to end class was harsh."

"I'm good I promise, I like it better in 3E, The only thing I miss about the main campus is you." He flicked her forehead. [Name] handed the helmet back to him, playfully shoving it into his chest.

"I know I complain about how annoying you are every day but, I wish Mr. Ono sent me to End class with you."

Karma smiled and shook his head no, "Don't go getting crazy ideas, tell you what, i'll take you out to eat as a consolation prize!"

"It's not a consolation prize if I wanted you to win!"

"Right, so what I'm hearing is, you're paying?"

"I take it back! I'm so upset you won…please pay for us!"

"Fineee…" He feigns disappointment "We'll go to [Café], right after school tomorrow, don't be late!"

[rebelliousstories]

Desperate Times and Desperate Measures

Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by @infinityfandoms

Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Fighting

Word Count: 1,505

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: She always said she would be about as useful as a wet paper bag in a fight. Good thing she never skips leg day.

Consider Donating: Here

“And who is this? I don’t think audiences have had the pleasure of meeting you yet.” The man in the red mask asked, looking at the woman behind Gambit. She looked up, startled at the sudden attention being brought to her.

“Um, hi.” She offered her name, but was still confused as to what was going on with these new people.

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re ‘The Druid’ aren’t you,” Deadpool gasped, “sparkle hands.”

“Sure, I guess if that’s how you want to know me. Haven’t heard anyone call me that in years.” She turned back to her bandages that she was wrapping back up. There were footsteps coming closer to her, but someone stopped them.

“Until I know whatcha gonna be doin’, ya ain’t gettin’ no closer.” Gambit snaps, charging a card near the red masked man.

“Oh, I’m not going to do anything to her. I’m a fan really. From one person with a regenerative healing factor to another, I applaud you, my dear.” Wade clapped his hands together and bowed dramatically. She giggled and set down the bandages, before walking over to Gambit.

“We’re alright, hun. He’s just being friendly.” With a hand on his chest, the man turned and caught her eyes. Letting the energy fizzle out and back into his body, Gambit wrapped an arm around her waist to tug her close.

Later that evening, as they prepared to go to bed in preparation of the big battle the next day, she was checking and double checking her stash. Different salves, elixirs, and dressings were being packed away in her satchel to take with her. As she was placing the last bottles and jars in, hands creeped across her waist and pulled her back into a firm chest.

“Neva’ gonna get tired of seein’ you work like dis, chere. Amazes me each and every time.” Remy drawled, pressing kisses to her neck while she leaned back.

“All to make you guys better, hun.” She replied, loving the feeling of his affections.

“Listen, when we in da lair tomorrow,” he began, “you gonna stay back righ’? Stay in da car?”

“Of course, I am. You know I can’t fight.” Her snort made the man smile as he pressed a kiss to her head.

“Good. Don’t want you gettin’ mixed up in all dat.”

Her hands came in front of them, and both of their attentions were on it. In a matter of a few seconds, a magnolia blossom was blooming from her palm. Taking it from one hand to the next, she passed it back to her lover. He held it to his nose, and breathed in deeply. The sweetest scent flooded his senses. Gambit tucked the flower into the top of his chest plate, right near his heart.

“Everything is gonna be alright, Remy. We’ll be fine.”

Those seem like famous last words now.

She was staying in the background. Behind the car because she was just not going to stay in an on fire car for anything. So far, no one had noticed her and that was just how she liked it. Keeping an eye on her boyfriend and friends, the chaos around them almost made her lose the line of sight.

An explosion next to her gained her attention, and made her squeak in surprise. Thankfully, she was still virtually hidden from the rest of the fighting going on. Locking eyes on Gambit’s coat once more, she was shocked to see someone sneaking up on his. Of course, all the fighting and shouting made the odds more optimal, but it was still an incredible task to do that to him. When he did not seem to be turning and looking at the attacker behind him anytime soon, she knew she had to do something. Looking around her, she tried to find something that would draw both Gambit’s attention to the attacker, and the attacker’s attention away from Gambit.

So she threw a shoe. Some random shoe that had gotten blown off of someone was what she picked up to throw. And somehow, it worked.

“Uh oh. We done messed up now.” She muttered, seeing the new set of eyes on hers. Taking off, she began weaving through the structure. But that man was close behind.

Gambit only noticed when he heard the sound of footsteps running behind him. A card blew up the spot that those feet had stood in the second prior. Taking a look around, he noticed that there was someone now chasing his girl all through the maze of bars that was Cassandra’s lair. Remy took off after the person, while trying to look ahead to see where she was going. Somehow, he remained just out of range for his cards to reach.

Ducking into a corner, she breathed heavily as she tried to catch her breath. A stitch was deep in her side, and her claves were beginning to cramp, but she couldn’t not stop now. Her life, Remy’s life, depended on it. All the noise around them meant that she would not be able to focus on the bad guy’s movements even if she wanted to. Poking her head out of her hole, she breathed a sigh of relief as she did not see him immediately. But that changed when, from the other end of the apparent hallway, he dropped down. She was trapped.

There was nothing that she could use as a weapon nearby, and her powers were defensive; not offensive. Breathing hard, she tried to steel herself against the awful smile that the man was now sporting. A cool metal bar was digging into her back. Her heart was speeding up. If she fell from this height, she would survive, but her bag would not and that was a greater travesty in her opinion. However, she did not have these thoughts long as a flash of magenta flew in front of her and sparked in front of the man.

“Ain’t ya momma eva’ teach ya how t’ treat a lady?” Remy was here. He shot a wink over his shoulder to her, before going after the man. His bo staff was out and charged, but for some reason it did not seem to be slowing this man down. Finally, he got close enough to stick a card to him, that promptly exploded. But as he walked away, this man just got back up and began to heal again.

Gambit groaned, and struck three cards to the ground, before running and grabbing his girlfriend from the railing. As they fell, an aftershock of the explosion knocked them in the air. He tucked her head into his chest, and cushioned their way down. Landing on the hard ground, both of them groaned as pain shot through their bodies.

“You good, chere?” Remy asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He was inspecting her face as his hands ran over the rest of her body.

“Yeah. You?” She replied, doing the exact same thing to him.

“Don’ worry about ol’ Gambit now. Gambit’s fine. I want you to go dat little hole in the side over der and stay der till I come get you.” The man pressed a kiss to her head, a brief one to her lips before rolling them over so he was on top. Slipping a card out from his pocket, he flicked it towards someone coming near, before getting up and joining the fray once more.

Once she had caught her breath, she did exactly what Remy had instructed of her. The little cave that she had found herself in allowed her to keep an eye on everybody, but stayed out of the fighting. She knew where her strengths lie, and she was definitely going to be most useful after the fight. As she watched, her mind kept forming different recipes and mixtures that she could use to help.

The fighting slowed until there was just a few people left. As the group finished them off, she stepped out briefly to watch their two friends jump into the glowing circle and away from the Void. As they disappeared, she ran over to her boyfriend and their friends. He welcomed her with open arms, and breathed a sigh of relief as they stood there.

Taking an assessment on her friends, she immediately set to work dressing some of the injuries that they had but could not heal properly. She felt Remy pat her shoulder lovingly as she was wrapping a spot on Elektra’s back. Turning to him, he just drew her in closer before allowing her to tend to wounds he may have gotten. This was a well oiled machine that had been established over the years.

As they piled into the Honda Odyssey after, their journey home was quiet. They did not know if they were going to be able to go home, or if they were stuck there forever. But one thing was for certain; that shoe was going to live in her head for a while.