#remy lebeau fluff

[dinogoofymutated]

Jealousy headcannons! Multi/GN!Reader - Cable, Gambit, Nightcrawler, Quicksilver. Ok I know this wasn't on the schedule butttt Yeahhhh. Cable is going to have an extended version of his fic, and I might do the same for the others but no promises! Also I know that Cable's written half is literally just the snippet I shared with some minor edits but bear with me please his stuff is in the works!!! TWs: Jelousy. Barfights. No violence on Reader but men are creepy. Mentions of sex work. Cable and gambit make public spectacles it's just what they do. The return of wolverine and the X-men Pietro bc I love him

Cable

Look, any man who comes over to flirt with you after you walk in with a legit wall of muscle has to be either stupid or blind.

Cable is by no means a very jealous man. He's not gonna care if a man (or woman) approaches you and starts up a conversation. He might get a little frustrated if they start flirting with you, but he trusts you. He knows you can take care of yourself and he doesn't want you to feel like he's got you on a leash.

But when someone is being persistent, not taking no for an answer, and hell, putting their hands on you? He doesn't take it too well. He's more of an overprotective type when it comes to his flavor of jealousy.

    “That beer for me, Beautiful?” The voice of a stranger cuts through your thoughts, and to be honest, you don’t even think he’s talking to you until you realize how close to you he is. He’s sat on the barstool next to you, leaning towards you like he can’t quite catch his balance. You make a face at him, nonchalantly moving Cable’s beer closer.

    “Last time I checked it wasn’t.” You say curtly. The man has a smile hiding behind his pout as he leans a little closer to you, oblivious to the way you casually recoil from him.

    “Oh c'mon, don’t play hard to get. I’m chill!” You can tell this guy is most definitely drunk, and you find yourself trying not to roll your eyes at him. If only he knew what kind of trouble he was in.

    “Sure you are. But believe me, my Husband is not.” You tell him. You're not married, but to be honest, you knew this guy wasn't going to leave you be if you left him with some vague label. Didn't matter anyway, however, the stranger laughs in your face, and his breath smells like alcohol and cheap cigarettes, a nasty combo that repulses you. You point back at the corner booth where the cable was sitting just a few minutes before, hoping that he’d at least back off at the sight of the six-foot hunk of muscle you call a lover. Unfortunately, He doesn't. 

    “What Husband?” The man says mockingly, and when you look at the booth you find yourself pointing at an empty seat. The sight lights a small flicker of anxiety in you, and your face falls as the man sets a hand on your shoulder and squeezes. It’s not there for long before the weight suddenly disappears. You snap your head around, feeling relief when you see the man’s wrist caught in Cable’s literal iron-clad grip. 

    “This Husband.” Cable grunts.

    All of the blood drains from the stranger’s face in an instant, but it doesn’t take long for the attitude to come back. He tries to yank his arm out of Cable’s grip, but Cable’s arm doesn’t move an inch. To be honest, the sight kinda made you blush a little. Sure, you had seen Cable’s strength many times, but this… well. This was different. The guy starts to yank a little more aggressively, and all Cable has to do is clench his hand for the asshole to yelp and give up. You set a placating hand on his shoulder, and Cable glances back at you. His gaze softens, and he sighs before letting the guy go.

    “What’s your problem, man?” The stranger spits as he holds his bruised wrist. You had already gathered your things and were getting ready to get the hell outta dodge, giving Cable’s shoulder a hard pat as you desperately tried to keep him from getting in a barfight. Cable ignores the guy, walking close behind you as you start to walk away.

    “ -s’ an ugly bitch, anyway.” The stranger mumbles under his breath, but not nearly as quiet as he should’ve. Cable stops in his tracks, wheels around, and slugs the guy with his left arm. There's a sickening crunch and the bar goes silent as the drunken stranger is violently knocked from his seat. Your first instinct is to scold Cable, but the guy had it coming anyway. You look around, and with every eye in the bar squarely on you and Cable, you decide you’ve definitely stayed past your welcome.

Gambit

Gambit is probably the most jealous man in this lineup. Again, He will get fidgety and somewhat aggressive when someone approaches you and begins to flirt, but he trusts you. He doesn't want you to think he doesn't, and as a result, he tends to grit his teeth and bite his tongue to keep himself in check.

There's definitely a very, very thin line in between "I don't want to be overbearing" Remy and "This guy needs to take the fucking hint" Remy.

He's mostly fine with drunk bastards, He thinks they're funny, and as long as they're not bothering you for the most part he'll keep the aggression to a minimum. -But the one thing he absolutely cannot stand is snobby pricks who think they can steal you from him because he's a "swamp rat."

"It's a shame to see such a lovely creature like you standing here all alone." You try not to roll your eyes at the man that approaches you. You and Remy were supposed to have a nice, romantic night out. It was your anniversary, and Remy had told you that he wanted to pull out all the stops for this one. Unfortunately, fate wasn't on either of your sides today. The X-men needed Gambit, and you told him that the plans can wait for another time. Remy, in a very gambit fashion, told you to dress up anyway and he bet he would meet you there. Definitely a rather High-stakes gamble, but you loved him, so you said you'd hold him to it.

Unfortunately for you, it looked like the restaurant was hosting an event at the bar for what looked like a rather stuffy- sorry, High-end law firm. You had been content with waiting for Remy, even if the waitress clearly looked convinced he was standing you up. You had ordered something to drink while you waited, and caught the wrong kind of attention during your trip to the bar.

"I'm not alone, I'm waiting for someone." You say, flashing him an annoyed smile. He smiles back in a smartass kind of way, flashing you his Rolex as he pushes up his glasses. Great. He thinks you're a sugar baby- or maybe a sex worker. Either way, you really wished he was anywhere but here.

"Right. I'll be honest with you, I know you've been waiting here for what- and hour now? Hour and a half? Any guy that leaves you here for that long is not worth your time, sweetheart." You cringe at the nickname, but he clearly can't seem to tell. At this point, you start debating your options. You could run to the bathroom, but there weren't any windows you could crawl out of and he could wait at the door for you to come out. You could try to leave, but you didn't want Remy to think that you left him hanging. It's probably best if you stay and wait for him, but man was this guy getting on your nerves.

"Again, I'm waiting on someone. I'm choosing to wait on him, and frankly, I'm not interested in you." You say bluntly, getting more and more aggravated. The man only smirks at you.

"You're certainly a fiesty one. Don't worry, I like it when they play hard to get." He sends you wink that makes you want to sock him, and to be honest, you start to think about it. The bell at the door of the restaurant dings, and you glance over, face breaking out in a smile at the sight of the man you had been waiting on.

Remy was still in his x-men suit, obviously having come fresh from the fight. He's got some dirt on his face, and his hair is a little messier than normal, but you had never been so happy to see him.

"Well, don't you clean up well." You joke as Remy walks to your table. He chuckles, barely sparing the other man a side-eye before picking up your hand to kiss it.

"Sorry, Chère. Originally, I planned on changin', but I couldn't stand the thought of leaving you here for another moment." Remy's fond gaze turns into a bit of a glare when he finally looks over at the gobsmacked man across the table from you. "I see you've made a new friend?" You roll your eyes at that, shaking your head. Remy gets the message.

There's a gasp from the other patrons of the restaurant, as the sound the contact made was rather loud. There's already a red mark forming on the mans face as you take Remy by the hand and begin to lead him out of the restaurant. Remy is looking at you like he'd fallen in love with you all over again.

"You've been waiting all this time for some Cajun freak?" The man blurts out, finally having found his words.

"Watch it, Mon ami." Remy's shoulders tense as he snarls at the prick. You stand up, giving his bicep a reassuring squeeze before you walk in front of the man. The side of his mouth slightly upturns as you do so, right before you slap the everloving shit out of him.

"I know you really wanted for us to eat here, honey, but to be honest? I like your cooking better anyway."

Nightcrawler

Kurt? Jealous???

Absolutely. He absolutely gets jealous. Kurt is much more of a "cat" kind of jealous than a Guard Dog kind of jealous though. He's not going to do anything crazy like punch anyone, but he's gonna brush up against you, slide his tail around your waist, hold your hand. He wants reassurance from you more than he is angered by whoever is flirting with you.

That's not to say he's not angry. He doesn't like the way some people look at you like a piece of meat instead of the intelligent, beautiful person you are, and he's not afraid to call people out on it.

Kurt knew that the guy you were talking to right now was only stopping to ask you for directions, but he really didn't like how close to you the guy was. Kurt had gone off to get you something to eat from the street food vendor nearby, telling you to just relax and he would be back soon.

When he returned with food in hand, it was obvious to him what was happening, but he still couldn't help but frown. The man is leaning into your space as he shows you the map in his hands. It's fine. There was obviously nothing really going on, the stranger must have been simply touchy. He then watches as the man sets a hand on the back of your waist to point at a building up ahead, and Kurt's mind quickly changes.

Obviously, you had stepped out of the stranger's reach quickly, uncomfortable with the action, but Kurt still slinked up to your side like a cat, pulling you close with his tail as he hands you your food, resting his newly freed hand behind your back.

"There you are, Meine Liebe. I hope you didn't wait for too long." Kurt says sweetly, giving you a grin. You smile back at him, thanking him for the food. You felt relieved to see him. Sure, the stranger that had been speaking to you seemed to be a nice man, but there was a certain amount of comfort and security Kurt provided when he was near you. Kurt makes a show of leaning in and kissing you on the cheek that makes you giggle. The stranger clears his throat after a quick moment.

"-Sorry if I interrupted your date. I appreciate the directions!" He says quickly, face flushed red from embarresment.

"You're perfectly fine! I hope you're able to find what you're looking for alright." You respond sweetly, waving as the man walks off. Kurt is pouting again when you look at him, tail still wrapped comfortably around you. You can't help but giggle.

"You're so jealous." You laugh. Kurt gives you an innocent look as he brushes off the accusation.

"Whaaat? No. Ich habe dich vermisst. That is all!"

Quicksilver

I'm not even gonna lie the fic half of this is just part of that enemies to lovers hcs that I wrote

anyway!!

Pietro is a very pouty, bratty kind of Jealous.

Like sure he trusts you and all but you actually looked at someone else while they were speaking to you? >:[ Don't look at them. Look at him. Smile at him not them. You're laughing at something they said? Well, he's funnier than them!!

He's just, so pouty over the smallest, pettiest things. He just needs a smooch on the forehead and some reassurance and also possibly cuddles, and he'll be fine. God he's such a brat ILHSM

However, If someone is actually flirting with you or going too far and making you uncomfortable, he will in fact throw hands. Or do his speedster thing and find a way to embarrass them, like pantsing them or planting something embarrassing on them. One time he snatched a guy's cell and called his wife before planting it in the man's pocket so she could hear all the flirting he was doing. Now that was fun.

"So I heard you had dinner with the wolfie guy tonight." The sound of Pietro's voice makes you yelp in surprise. You whirl around to see him leaning against the wall of your room, arms crossed. You scoff, and pick a pillow off of your bed to chuck it at him. He catches it easily.

"His name is Logan, and No. Not really. All we did was happen to sit next to each other at dinner." You turn back around to sit at your vanity, but Pietro is already there, sitting on the stool with the pink pillow tucked into his arms.

"So you did have dinner with him?" He pouts. You roll your eyes at him, holding back a laugh as you shove him off the seat. He looses his balance for less than a second before there's a gust and he's sitting cross-legged on your bed, having tossed the pillow to the side.

"What does it matter to you, anyway? You're not even supposed to be here, Pietro." You tease as you sit down, unable to keep yourself from smiling. You comb through your hair as you ready yourself for bed, still grinning like an idiot as you hear Pietro huff and haw.

"Why shouldn't it matter?" He asks, watching as you complete your routine. "I- I have a reason to care." He stutters out cheeks flushing a light pink that reaches his ears. You cover your mouth to keep yourself from laughing.

"Don't laugh!" Pietro objects, and it sends you into a fit of laughter as you stand back up and flop onto your back on the bed next to him.

"He's not my type anyway." You say. It only takes a second before Pietro is leaning over you, caging you between his arms. There's the ghost of a grin beginning to form on his face, simply at the sight of your own cheesy expression.

"What is your type, then?" He asks, and you cock an eyebrow at him.

"Let's just say I prefer a man who can keep up with me." You say with a wink that may or may not have been the most terribly, corny action you could have done. Pietro doesn't seem to care as his face is split with an equally as corny grin.

Both of you are caught off guard by someone calling your same from the hallway, and then a knock shortly after. You take Pietro's moment of distraction and quickly lean up, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. Pietro looks absolutely shocked.

"You better get going." You whisper. He smiles at you, almost in disbelief, and then he's gone, the window left open and the breeze catching on curtains, blowing gently.

[queenxxxsupreme]

Before the Storm

(Remy Lebeau x reader)

A/N: This is just a super tiny little drabble because I wanted to get a feel for Gambit’s character. Please if any of it (or all of it) seems out of character for him, let me know. I just wanna do this man some justice

Warnings: cigarettes and alcohol, a little bit of angst but mostly fluff

Summary: It’s the night before the ragtag group of forgotten heroes goes to fight Cassandra Nova, and you share a little moment with your Gambit.

“What took you so long, mon coeur?” Remy spoke from where he was laid out across the bed. To even call it a bed was probably an overstatement. It was just a mattress on the floor, but it was all you had in the Hell that was quite literally the Void.

“Had to find a good bottle.” You held up a bottle of rum.

”Why, I think that’s a fine choice, Miss Y/L/N.” He grinned just a little, then beckoned you over with a wave of his hand.

You kicked off your boots before climbing into the bed. Remy adjusted himself so that he was leaning against the wall. You made yourself comfortable, tucking yourself under his arm.

You twisted the bottle of rum open and took a swig of the sharp alcohol, then passed the bottle to him.

“How do you think tomorrow is going to go, Remy?” You spoke quietly, looking over your shoulder to him.

“I don’t know. But I do know one thing for sure, mon coeur. It ain’t gonna be pretty.”

You shifted yourself around so that you could see his face better.

“You got a smoke?” You asked him. He reached behind him on the bed, blindly feeling for wherever he had set the pack of cigarettes down last.

Remy picked up the box and flicked it open, holding it out for you to take one.

“Thanks, mon amour.” You took the cigarette from him and placed it between your lips. You dug around in the pocket of your jacket and pulled out a lighter. You lit the cigarette before tossing the lighter down on to the bed.

“Are you scared, Y/N?” His deep voice was quiet, almost like he was afraid to even ask the question.

”Yeah, Remy. I am.” You admitted, blowing the smoke from your lips. He took the cigarette from you to take a hit of it. ”We’ve never gone up against Cassandra Nova before. We just fight her little pawns and stay as far away from their territory as possible.”

”It’s gonna be real interestin’. That’s for sure.” The smoke that left his lips as he spoke fanned over your face. You leaned further into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you.” Your fingers wrapped around the glass bottle of alcohol and you took a sip. “Don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

”You ain’t losin’ me no time soon, mon coeur.” He pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Just don’t go doin’ anythin’ stupid tomorrow.”

”Me?” You raised an eyebrow and turned your head so you could admire his features. “Honey, we both know I’m not the one going and doing stupid things on a whim. That’s all you and Johnny’s bad influence.”

He chuckled quietly, bringing his arm that was behind you around your shoulders to pull you close enough so he could seal a kiss on your cheek.

“I miss that fella, Y/N.” The smile that had been on his lips slowly faded.

“I know. Me too.” You took the cigarette from Remy and put it between your lips. “We’ll do it for him, and all the others.”

“To Johnny.” Remy lifted the bottle of rum up as if to toast his dear friend.

“You think we have a chance at beating her, Remy?”

“I think that whatever does happen tomorrow, we’ll be just fine, mon coeur.”

[luvvyouforever]

AKAKAKEIDIXKKSALWLEOROFOFD

Hello!! May I please request a Gambit x reader fic where his S/O’s mutation is that they can control/manipulate plants and flowers. S/O loves researching the meanings behind them and gifting people these flowers based on that. I’m sorry if that’s confusing, English isn’t my first language.

Thank you so much!!

YES i love this prompt. here you go <3

secret language - gambit (remy labeau) x reader

synopsis: with an overflowing greenhouse and nothing to do but read books on the language of flowers, you learn the art of speaking through gifting bouquets which comes in handy more than a few times.

content: fluff, sweetness, slightly suggestive at the end hehe.

an: i'm sorry this took me so long to get to!! i finally have a big break to write everything in my drafts!! i had a bigger plot idea for this when i originally started writing it, but it came out to a cute short little one-shot! i hope you enjoy :)

orange lillies, yellow carnations, butterfly weed, and petunias made up the bouquet logan was quite surprised to receive after he had accidentally nicked your arm during a fight the day before. he had thought it was your way of saying everything was okay but according to the 40-year-old encyclopedia you referenced, the bouquet meant something closer to "fuck you."

with your powers, growing flowers was as easy as, quite literally, a wave of your hand. the greenhouse situated on the top of the mansion was your domain. from top to bottom, the room was covered in flowers and vines and leaves of all kinds. it was a way to relieve yourself of the pressure mutations often built inside of bodies, a way to exert the power rather than permanently holding it in.

once you moved into the x-men mansion and received the space to grow flowers, professor xavier had actually been the person to buy you your first "meanings of flowers" book. some of the information was inaccurate, but there was something so rewarding about giving people bouquets that they warmly received, despite you creating it with a deep scowl etched on your face.

only very few people were allowed in the greenhouse. you, of course. professor xavier on some occasions. and remy, your loving partner who enjoyed receiving your sweet flowers.

"did ya give the flowers to logan, chère?" remy asked. he was laid out on a bench in the greenhouse, flipping a glowing pink card around in his hand.

you smiled from your position in front of a bed of roses. with the smallest upwards movement of your hand, the roses grew a few inches and some of the blooms seemed to turn a brighter shade of red. "yeah, i set them in front of his door. seemed to like 'em too."

remy laughed and your heart swelled. "course he did. that little book teach you all kinds of things."

"it did," you said. slowly, you stood up from the roses and padded over to where remy was laying on the couch, you patted his shoulder and he lifted his head so you could sit down. once your body was comfortable on the couch, his head found purchase on your lap. "did i ever tell you the meanings of those bouquets i gave you before we got together?"

his dark eyes opened and made eye contact with yours. "don't believe you did, chère." he smiled. "gambit would love to hear."

you giggled at his suddenly flirtatious gaze, but told him anyway. "that first bouquet? it was more of a friendship thing, i guess. i was too scared to be too obvious with it. the zinnias mean respect, the chrysanthemums mean joy, and the gardenias mean hope. the second one i ramped it up a bit. the tulips mean perfection, the lavender means devotion, and the red lilies mean passion."

suddenly, you were silenced by remy's movements as he sat up on the couch. you made a slightly surprised squeak when his hands found your hips, squeezed them, then used them to maneuver you into his lap. "and what about the newest one you gave me?"

a red tint blossomed on your cheeks then. only a few days ago, you had refilled the vase you kept in remy's room. sometimes it had meanings, other times you had collected a pretty arrangement of flowers to brighten up his room. this time, though, it certainly had meaning.

your hands snaked up from your sides to his chest, where they became firmly planted. as if your power was leaking out of you and into the room, flowers started to blossom and grow higher than what they were at.

"well," you started, "the purple lilacs symbolize my overwhelming amount of love for you."

"mhm," remy hummed, hands roaming your sides.

"the yellow dahlias mean that i am so incredibly happy to be loved by you."

remy tilted his head to kiss your hand that was resting on his shoulder, but kept his eyes attached to yours. he nodded, a gesture to continue.

"and finally, the camellias are supposed to symbolize my unending, deep desire for you, as well as my admiration for you, and your absolute perfection--eek!"

remy had somehow flipped you around so that he was on top of you, arms balanced on the couch to hold himself up. "my sweet flower girl," he sighed peacefully. suddenly, a smirk met his lips and his eyes took on a lustful appearance. "you wanna use those vines to tie me down again?"

you laughed loudly and smacked him in the chest. "you're awful!"

"and yet, gambit will wake up to some new pretty bouquet in his room again, won't he, chere?"

[embersofnovember]

I LOVE YOU,

DON'T ACT SO SURPRISED.

remy lebeau x gn!reader

summary: you’ve only been a member of the xmen for a little over two months, yet remy’s already made it feel like a week.

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, remy’s a bully, justice for kurt!!, a lotttt of kissing, affectionate themes in general, no angst (for once?), a horrendous attempt at remy’s accent, idk what else

wc: 1312

notes: ignore how i died for a month or two but anyways i watched manchester by the sea the other day and i’m still wrecked

living in the x mansion is something you never imagined for yourself in the future, but never find yourself regretting. hidden away in the greenery, tucked away nicely, mutants roaming freely without the worry of being seen differently on their conscience. almost hidden in plain sight.

in a sense, it’s a better home than anyone else has ever had.

you’ve been living there for almost two months. it was hard to get used to at first, especially since you thought you were the only one—but, seeing everyone so calm, so happy and carefree certainly did make your heart soak itself in warmth. everyone greeted each other open arms.

mutants are normal. not everyone could read minds, or teleport, or move things with their mind, but some could, and you feel as though you’ve finally found a place that wants you.

there’s basketball matches on the court every other day. you and storm bake together. scott keeps a secret stash of liquor in his room, away from the kids and out of reach from logan, who will tear the place down in search for it if he ever found out there was any in the four walls you all call home. occasional movie nights, and you all took turns cooking dinner.

and some nights, when remy would come home from a mission, and would be a little too tired to walk to his room which was a little too far, you find him in your bed, with his head in your lap and your fingers tangled in his hair.

remy doesn’t have much shame.

it’s sweet little gestures the two of you indulge each other in. a slow process that happens more and more frequently as the days pass. things like fixing each other’s hair, catching each other’s stares from across a crowded room. he lets you win in every card game (kurt hates it—favouritism!). you let him sleep in your bed with the innocent price of either of you soothing the other. you take turns. whoever needs it more, or sometimes you just let each other tangle your legs and arms, and simply whisper to each other like you’re exchanging secrets.

you could get used to this. it’s a nice life, a life with a stark difference to the one you harboured mere months ago. sure, there were times, and you had your moments, but you were getting better.

you could get used to this. a life of domesticity that you couldn’t imagine before. october settles, similar to the cold in your skin, but you aren't thinking about that.

“oh, no,” remy tuts, shaking his head with a disapproving click of his tongue. he points metal tongs at kurt’s confused figure, and clicks them together twice. to this, kurt’s eyes widen. he isn’t even two steps into the kitchen.

“banned from de kitchen, oui? away, mon ami.”

you, however, had already gotten used to this.

“i didn’t even do anything!” kurt shouts defensively, german accent thick with frustration. remy near cuts him off with a groan, incessantly and impatiently clicking away with the tongs in kurt’s direction as he walks past.

“me an’ de lovely lady are busy,” he says. his eyes pivot over to you, sitting on the counter with your legs dangling over the edge, busying yourself with stirring the sauce in the pot remy had forgotten about.

“all i would like is a drink,” kurt remarks, more under his breath than to both you or remy. his tail sags behind him as he walks, bush of hair covering the better part of his eyes as he walks past you, giving a quiet nod and that small smile.

already used to the antics between the two best friends, you learnt it was better than to interfere a long time ago.

before kurt extends out a hand to open the fridge, remy’s already shoving him into a headlock and affectionately scratching kurt’s scalp. as dramatic as kurt is, and as if this isn’t a common occurrence for him, he still yelps. he sounds distressed every time it happens, and each time you can’t help but laugh.

remy, of course, is all grins and dimples. when he lets go of the poor guy, he doesn’t stop. “thought you knew better than to come into de kitchen when i’m cooking, mm?”

“no,” kurt muttered in exasperation. a sour look adorns his features as he turns his back and opens the fridge (without interruption, this time), though you can’t hold the conscious thought that maybe kurt really had thought he’d been safe for a second. his accent gets thicker when he’s flustered. “nein, too many people love here for you to be hogging the kitchen!”

the look that remy sent kurt had a giggle bubbling from the back of your throat. then, his attention is on you. remy’s eyes snap from kurt’s to yours, raising a teasing eyebrow.

“you find dis funny, chére?”

uh oh.

your smile, mere a twitch of the corners of your mouth, disappears completely. expecting the similar fate kurt had been given, you scramble for an excuse.

“no, why would i? that’s—“

kurt slips away with a canned beverage before the other can notice. remy advances towards you with his signature pair of tongs, clicking them together with a taunt and a raised eyebrow. there’s the click shut of the fridge, the sizzle of frying fat and remy’s dreamy, dopey grin.

your fate is already sealed. letting out a sigh in resignational defeat, you think just maybe kurt had been spared.

“—that’s stupid.”

“is it now?”

“mm,” your hum, coupled with a few encouraging nods and a smile you slowly can no longer hide, remy’s in front of you before you can blink. a tender hand is brushing a stray hair out of your eyes.

the truth is, remy has never been so badly whipped for anyone in his entire life. he loves you with all of his heart. in the way that his nose accidentally brushes against yours, in the way you enjoyed playing with his hair, in the way he kisses the different expanses of your face repeatedly until he breaks a grin out of you.

like right now.

“rem, you’re cooking,” you remind him, attempting to hold a sense of firmness in your tone as he places a series of kisses along the tip of your nose to the bridge. you were xmen: you were supposed to be responsible.

remy is anything if not responsible.

“i ain’t gon’ burn the house down,” he chides between a kiss on your cheek, tone gravelly and thick with his cajun accent. “you ever known gambit to burn his precious meals?”

“well, what about the other day when—“

he cuts you off with a kiss on your lips. it’s a brusque action, but it’s one you’ve adapted to, one that no longer surprises you, and one you reciprocate with minimal ease. you laugh once, and he pulls away. then, he goes in again and you playfully slap his chest.

“remy!”

he lets out a groan of faux annoyance, landing one final peck on your forehead before he reluctantly steps away to go back to his place at the stove, where he’s fiddling with his beignets with a now concentrated brow.

he is always there. an enigma in the pearls of his teeth, a rose in a bush of thorns.

“‘m just saying, chére,” he starts, eyes narrowing with concentration. then a groan when he flips the pastry to find they’re more golden and caramelised than he would like to admit.

“that i’m right?” you tilt your head, hands balanced on the edge of the counter as your legs swinging mindlessly. to say you felt a little smug is more true than otherwise.

if you were anyone else, remy would’ve turned around and glared at you. instead, he just laughs.

“touché, chérie.”

masterlist!!

[simpforfandoms]

If possible, would you be willing to write Remy LeBeau x reader on their first date. Please and thank you

💜

I tried really hard to write a first date but I just can’t so this is as close as it gets

You don’t know how you got here, one second you’re chaperoning a prom and the next Remy is asking if you want to get out of there. And maybe it was the spiked punch (did they really think you wouldn’t notice?) or the fact that you had the slightest bit of a crush (god you sound like a highschooler) on the red eyed mutant that made you say yes. So that’s how you end you’re taking a stroll with Remy throughout the courtyard looking for any teenage mutants doing scandalous things and talking about pointless things

“In France is french kissing just kissing? Or french fires just fries?” You ask

Remy gives you a look, “I’m not French”

“But you know French?”

“Yes but I’m Cajun not French”

“Okay but you can still answer the question.”

“probably just called fries.”

“I thought so.” You shrug, you pause before adding, “not that you have to answer but, what happened between you and Rogue.”

You have been curious. You had heard rumors that they had gotten a divorce so in your eyes his response could be “I don’t know what your talking about” or just confirm that they had divorced. Nevertheless you convince yourself that they’re still together, as not to get you’re hopes up.

He shrugs, “we wanted different things”

You stay silent even though you know you should probably comfort him. Thoughts running through your head a hundred miles per hour. Wait so if him and rogue weren’t together does that mean that this wasn’t just a friendly stroll, could it be like a date? No. Remy could never see you romantically. You hardly know the guy besides secret glances and friendly conversations. Plus Anna Marie is so cool. After being with her he would never go for you. He’s an x-men, you’re just a teacher that teaches at the academy. Nothing special. Not like you save lives or anything. Unless you count evacuating the school as it blows up for the hundredth time.

He eventually notices your long standing silence and asks you a question, one that you didn’t hear but mumbled a ‘yes’ in response.

“do you wanna go somewhere to eat?” He asks

That brings you out of your daze, and you shoot him. A questionable look, “what? We still have to chaperone”

He rolls his eyes, “I never signed up to chaperone”

“What? Then what are you doing here?”

He lets out an oh so attractive chuckle, “isn’t it obvious darlin? I wanted to be with you.”

What. Why would Remy Lebeu of all people want to be with you. As previously discussed, he was an x men and you were, well you.

“So you went to a boring school dance just to be with me?” You almost laugh at the absurdity.

“it’s almost summer, you’ll leave soon and I won’t see you”

“And that’s a problem how”

“God do you play dumb.” He chuckles, “cause I’ll miss you.”

You? He’ll miss you?!?! You?!?!

As if he can sense your questions he answers, “I’ll miss over hearing your lectures every morning, and you always saying goodnight to everyone in the building including me, and how you remember my coffee order after I told you one time-“

“That’s because it’s just black.”

“My point is, I’ll miss you”

“I’ll be back in 3 months” you say

“To long to go without seeing you”

You laugh, “fine I can go for a burger”

…

“This is the best burger I’ve had in my whole life,” you state before taking another bite

“I’ve had better”

“Yeah sure.” You roll your eyes

You look at the time, “oh shit we have to get back before Charles realizes we’re gone.”

“I’ll handle it, don’t worry darlin.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

.

After some delicious burgers Remy walks you back to your dorm or living quarters.

“Sooo…” you pause, “I had fun.”

“Me too.”

“goodnight Remy” You go to turn around but he grabs your arm before you can. And gives you a goodnight kiss. Was it everything you imagined? Maybe.

…

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Incorrect Quote

Gambit - What am I going to do with you? *stares at (Y/n) with heart eyes*

(Y/n) - Love me, feed me, never leave me. *smiles brightly at her boyfriend*

Gambit - It's a deal mon cheri. *mirrors her smile*

[librababe99]

Marvel Masterlist

(Updated: September 16th 2024)

NSFW - ★

Logan Howlett

❤︎ ⠀- Old Man Logan

Weathering the Storm Heat of the Moment Echoes of Her (2) (3) Moments Between Time (2) (3) (4) (Epilogue) Raw Temptation ★ Older, Wiser, Yours ❤︎ ★ The Wolverine's Heart ❤︎ ★ Caught in His Claws ❤︎ ★ Lumbered Love Savage Devotion ★ Between Two Flames (NEW) ★

Scott Summers

In the Quiet Hours Through Crimson Glass Between Two Flames (NEW) ★

Remy Lebeau

Ashes of Desire Cards on the Table ★

Wade Wilson

More Than Skin Deep Trigger Control ★

Young! Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

Storms of Vengeance

Young! Charles Xavier

Healing Touch ★ The Mutant's Serenade

[intoxicated-chan]

𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐭

Summary ➳ Gambit lends an ear and his comfort to you. 

(A/n) ➳ I feel like I spent too much time writing this because I wanted to get his accent right. But I thank all those who gave me advice, especially @a-roguish-gambit. I also started playing RDR2 so you guys can expect content for the game soon too!

Word Count ➳ 1.1k 

Content Warnings ➳ Female Reader, swearing, violence, blood, pet names (cher), mentions/fear of abandonment, light sexual content, cock blocking??  

It wasn’t your choice to be pushed into the Void after Wade and Logan. When you watched their bodies disappear, you too were taken to the Void without putting much of a fight. And from the moment you arrived, you knew you were over your head. 

From the moment you arrived, Wade and Logan’s bickering and banter was constant, and their fights weren’t often but deadly. You stood on the sidelines whenever they fought because you knew they could easily take you out. 

Especially now.  

What was supposed to be a ride to find the Resistance members became a bloodbath, the first sign of a fight starting was your cue to leave the car and wait for them to calm down. 

You sat against the tree, watching the two grown ass men throw kicks and punches that could kill a person with ease. Logan's claws pierce Wade’s body and how Wade’s katanas and knife slice through Logan’s outfit and skin.  

“Guys, seriously?” You muttered, this fight would’ve been much entertaining if she had food with her. You were tired of it, physically and emotionally, and you weren’t surprised when you fell asleep to the sound of them battling.  

But when you awoke, you were in a different place. Some kind of hideout.  

But with three others who you learned to be Blade, Elektra and Gambit. All of them talked about getting back into Cassandra’s lair, but Wade did most of the talking as Logan did all the drinking.  

“You?!” Wade suddenly shouting in some kind of encouragement, pointing directly at you.  

They all stared at you, waiting for a response but you had no idea what they were agreeing on, going back in her lair or getting a way out.  

“It’s the same thing, kid.” Logan interrupted your thinking, as if he read your thoughts. But it seems he was tired of the fighting and wanted to a seat to drink in peace.  

“Sure, I guess.” You said, mainly to get the stares off you. 

Everyone agreed that they would set off early in the morning, giving you the chance to look around the hideout. You peeked your heads in the room as you already felt like you were trespassing, so you promised yourself that this would be the last room before you ate something. 

“Bonjour, cher.” Gambit’s voice made you jump, quickly pulling your head out to turn and look at him. “Ain’t polite to be peekin’ in on folks, now is it?” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” 

Gambit reached out to push the door open further. “Ain’t no harm done.” With a wave of his hand, he welcomed you in. “Don’t be shy, cher.” 

You walked in once you got his approval, he followed right behind you, closing the door with a click. The room was not what you expected, with mismatched furniture and some playing cards lying around, it spoke of him.  

It was Gambit’s space, and it felt like an extension of him. 

“So, how long you been stuck in dis here Void?” Gambit asked, sitting on his couch and patting the cushion beside him.  

But you shook your head, choosing to lean against the wall. “Not long. I got caught up in Wade’s mess.” 

Gambit raised an eyebrow, his expression changing to surprised. “You’ new to all dis chaos, eh? Coulda fooled me.” He grinned.  

You shrugged, trying to laugh. “More like I got dragged into it. Wade... He stopped getting in trouble for some time but this time, I wasn’t quick enough to dodge it.” 

“If dere’s somethin’ on your mind, cher, you can talk. Sometimes it’s easier t’spill your guts to a stranger.” Gambit noted. 

You looked at him, seeing sincerity in his eyes. For a moment, you hesitated, but you broke. “I’m worried. Scared.” You admitted, whispering. “That this plan won’t work. If it doesn’t, everyone in my universe... They’ll forget me. It’ll be like I never existed.” 

You didn’t mean to say much, but once you started, you couldn’t stop. “I’ve been abandoned once before, left to fend for myself. I worked so hard to make a name but now it’ll be for nothing. Everything I’ve done, everyone I’ve known... Gone. Just like that.” 

You felt embarrassed after you finished ranting. Your eyes widened as you raised your hands, stumbling over your words, a poor attempt at explaining yourself. “Shit! I-I know you said-” 

But before you could finish, Gambit was there in front of you, pulling you into a tight embrace. His arms wrapped around you like a shield, protecting you from your worries.  

“It’s alrig’t cher. You’re alrig’t.” He whispered, his voice soothing as he held you close. “You ain’t gotta apologize for feelin’ like dis. Everyone gets scared, even Remy.”  

You felt yourself slowly relax in his embrace, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calmed you a little. In that moment, you didn’t care about the fear that’s been eating you away.  

You hesitated at first, but then you wrapped your arms around him. You both stayed like that for a while, neither of you saying a word, just taking comfort in each other’s company. 

Eventually, Gambit pulled back slightly, just enough so he could look down at you. You met his faze, your breath hitching as you realized how close you were. 

And then, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss. It was slow soft at first, a mere brush of lips, but it deepened as the seconds passed, both of you losing yourselves in the moment.  

You felt his fingers running through your hair as you reached to cup his face. You shut your eyes, your hands moving to his coat and attempt to take it off him.  

The door flew open with a loud slam. You jumped, darting away from Gambit. 

“Hey, what’s going on in here?!” Wade shouted as he strutted into Gambit’s room. His tone was annoyingly cheerful. “We don’t have the budget for intimacy coordinators! Johnny must’ve taken it all.” 

You cleared your throat, crossing your arms as you felt your face become warm. “Wade! I... Uh... Nothing, nothing’s going on.” 

You could tell by how the whites of his suit widened that he was smirking under that dammed mask. “Oh really? ‘Cause it looks like I interrupted something juicy!” 

“Jus’ havin’ a lil’ chat, mon ami. Nothin’ to get excited ‘bout.” Gambit fixed his coat, seemingly normal. 

Wade then shrugged, turning around. “Alright, but if I hear any smoochin’ sounds, I’m comin’ right back!” 

As soon as the door closed behind Wade, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, your heat still racing from the near discovery. You glanced at Gambit, who was watching you with a smile, and couldn’t help but laugh. 

Gambit stepped closer to you, hooking his finger under your chin to have you look at him. “As we were, cher?”  

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission. 

[91939art]

🌟patreon | commission us🌟🌟

This Valentine's day, travel to Genosha together! ♥♣♦♠

And who's that, soaring with the gulls?

[pandapetals]

Arm Wrestle

Remy challenges Logan to an arm wrestle but a unexpected person wins.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - married couple, cute, fluff, banter, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor

a/n: Another brilliant idea inspired by @she-loves-wolvie and the tikok she sent me.

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

divider credit: @enchanthings

The living room buzzed with low chatter as everyone gathered around the coffee table, uno cards fanned out in their hands. Ororo was lounging gracefully on the couch, Hank sat cross-legged on the floor with an air of calm concentration, and Scott was already in team leader mode , explaining the rules like this was some kind of world-saving operation.

“Does everyone understand the rules?” Scott asked, scanning the group like he expected someone to whip out a notepad.

“It’s uno,” Hank replied, arching an eyebrow. “I think we’ve got it covered, fearless leader.”

“Honestly, we could’ve played something more exciting,” Remy chimed in with a dramatic sigh, leaning back on his palms. “Poker’s always a good choice.”

Scott groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We would be playing poker if someone didn’t turn every game into some raunchy ‘flirt with Rogue’ fest.”

You chuckled as Remy smirked unapologetically. “What can I say? I like raisin’ the stakes—especially when ma chérie is playin’.”

Your grin widened as you leaned forward. “Speaking of, where is Rogue tonight? You’re actually here without her?”

Remy shrugged, looking vaguely offended. “She’s out with Jean. I’m a gentleman, cher. I give her space.”

Scott muttered something under his breath about miracles, but you ignored him, turning your attention back to your cards. The first round went well enough, with everyone groaning over +4 cards and loudly accusing Remy of stacking the deck. But by the third game, the excitement had dwindled. Ororo sighed dramatically as Hank leaned back against the couch, looking mildly bored.

“Okay,” Remy said, slapping his cards down on the table. “Uno ain’t doin’ it for me. We need somethin’ else.”

“And by ‘something else,’ you mean something chaotic,” Ororo quipped, rolling her eyes.

Before anyone could respond, Logan walked into the room, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. He was clearly looking for you, his eyes scanning the group until they landed on you.

“Hey, darlin’,” he greeted, his voice low and gravelly.

Remy perked up instantly, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Well, well. Look who’s here. Logan, you ever been good at arm wrestlin’?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking to the table, then back to Remy. “What’re you talkin’ about, Cajun?”

Remy leaned forward, grinning. “How ‘bout a little challenge? One hundred bucks says I can take you.”

Ororo groaned, pushing herself to her feet. “That’s my cue to leave. I’ve seen this show before.” She gave you a knowing look before heading out of the room.

Logan smirked, walking closer. “You wanna arm wrestle me? For a hundred bucks?”

Remy shrugged. “What can I say? I’m feelin’ lucky tonight.”

Logan let out a low chuckle, pulling a chair over to the table. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.”

The room buzzed with excitement as everyone gathered around. Scott was already placing bets. “Hank’s the only one who might have a shot,” he whispered to Kurt. You leaned back on the couch, watching the scene unfold with an amused smile.

Logan planted his elbow on the table, his arm flexing as he waited for Remy to grasp his hand. “Don’t cry when you lose,” he said, his smirk widening.

Remy matched his smirk. “You talk big, mon ami . Let’s see if you can back it up.”

The match lasted less than ten seconds. Remy strained, his face turning red as Logan barely budged, his smirk never wavering. With a casual flick of his wrist, Logan slammed Remy’s hand down onto the table.

“Pay up,” Logan said, holding out his hand.

“Dammit,” Remy muttered, pulling out his wallet as the rest of the group burst into laughter.

One by one, Scott, Hank, and even Kurt tried their luck, each meeting the same fate. Hank came the closest, his muscles straining as he almost— almost —managed to push Logan’s arm down, but Logan held firm, finishing the match with a grunt of effort.

“Nice try, big guy,” Logan said, clapping Hank on the shoulder.

“That… was impressive,” Hank admitted, shaking out his arm.

As the guys continued to grumble and tease each other, you stood from the couch, a playful glint in your eye. “Alright, my turn.”

Logan’s head snapped toward you, his expression instantly shifting to something more serious. “No way, sweetheart.”

“Why not?” you challenged, crossing your arms.

“‘Cause I’m not gonna arm wrestle you,” he said firmly. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping closer to the table. “Logan, I’m not made of glass. And besides, you’ve been beating everyone all night. Let me take you down a peg.”

The guys burst into laughter, clearly enjoying the idea.

“Come on, Logan,” Scott said, grinning. “You afraid of your wife?”

Logan shot him a glare. “Watch it, Summers.”

But you weren’t backing down. You moved to the table, sitting across from him and resting your elbow on the surface. “What’s the matter, tough guy? Afraid you might lose?”

Logan let out a low growl, his hazel eyes narrowing. “Fine,” he muttered, leaning forward and clasping your hand in his. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The moment your hands connected, you felt the rough warmth of his palm against yours, and you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Ready?”

“Ready,” he rumbled, his eyes locked on yours.

Scott counted down, and the match began. Logan was holding back—you could feel it—but you didn’t mind. You weren’t planning to win with strength.

As he focused on your hands, you tilted your head, giving him a soft, playful look that you knew always got to him. “You know,” you murmured, your voice teasing, “I think this might be the first time I’ve ever seen you look nervous.”

Logan’s grip faltered for a split second, his gaze flicking to your face—and that was all you needed. With a triumphant laugh, you pushed his hand down onto the table, slamming it against the surface.

The room erupted into cheers and laughter as you leaned back, grinning.

“I win,” you declared, holding out your hand to Remy. “Pay up.”

Remy laughed, handing you a crisp hundred-dollar bill. “Remind me never to bet against you, cher.”

Logan shook his head, a grudging smile tugging at his lips. “That was low, darlin’.”

You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “All’s fair in love and arm wrestling.”

Scott clapped Logan on the back, laughing. “Looks like the Wolverine’s got a weakness after all.”

“Yeah,” Logan muttered, pulling you into his lap with a smirk. “And I wouldn’t trade her for anything.”

The group dissolved into more laughter and teasing, but all you could focus on was the warmth of Logan’s arms around you, his soft chuckle in your ear as he whispered, “You’re somethin’ else, sweetheart.”

[satansdarlin]

can i PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE have a fic where gambit and reader have a baby/kid, i don't care about anything else i just want a kid with that man PLEASE (I am on my hands and kness begging you)

Pa's Lil spade

I know this is a bit more than you asked for but I went nuts with it. You are so fr for wanting a baby with this man (me too nonny me too). The reader is a mutant but I left that up to whatever you guys want. It is implied to be AFAB reader with how they refer to them but nothing is explicitly depicted. Could be read as a follow up to royal flush or a stand alone

Rating: T

Word count: 4.9k

Warnings: bad French, some anti mutant bull, remy being the best dad to cure my daddy issues, pure family fluff with a little angst, talk of explosions

If you liked this check of my masterlist or put in a request if they are open

You padded through the quiet house in the early morning. Remy had been missing from the bed when you woke up, but you had a feeling you knew exactly where to find him. Pushing open the door to the nursery, you paused in the doorway, taking in the tender scene before you. Morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over Remy as he cradled your one-month-old daughter in his arms, her tiny form still peacefully asleep.

"Mon Dieu," he whispered as he heard you enter, his voice thick with emotion. "Remy never expected 'er to be so... petit."

"She is small," you agreed softly, moving closer to them. "A tiny little miracle."

Remy turned to face you, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "She's perfect, ain't she?" he said, gazing down at the small, sleeping bundle in his arms.

"Absolutely perfect," you agreed, watching your husband hold your daughter with such reverence that your heart swelled. You knew he'd probably stand there holding her for hours if he could, perfectly content.

He chuckled softly, his attention never wavering from the baby. With infinite gentleness, he stroked her velvet-soft cheek with one finger. "She goin' be a troublemaker, Remy can tell already," he said with a knowing smirk.

"Wonder where she'll get that from," you laughed softly, reaching up to kiss his cheek.

He feigned shock, placing his free hand over his heart with dramatic flair. "Remy, trouble? Never," he protested, shaking his head with exaggerated innocence before pulling you closer with his free arm, that familiar mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"You're a poor liar, mon cœur," you hummed, gazing down at your daughter. Your little Spade. You'd had to talk him down from naming her Queenie – Remy's taste in baby names had been a bit more... eccentric.

"Can't believe you made Remy change the name," he pouted, though his eyes never left their daughter's face as he traced her features with a gentle finger. "Queenie woulda been a good name," he added teasingly.

"Spade is perfect," you said, playfully rolling your eyes.

He let out an exaggerated sigh of defeat, though he couldn't quite hide his smile. "You're right, cher. Spade is perfect," he admitted, gently rocking the bundle in his arms.

"I'll go make breakfast," you said softly, reluctantly pulling away from their warmth. In the kitchen, you found yourself wrestling with the baby-proofed cabinets. You'd tried telling Remy there was no way Spade would be getting into cabinets when she could barely roll over, but he'd insisted on "better safe than sorry."

From the living room, Remy's teasing voice called out, "Careful, darlin', you might get trapped in there!"

"And whose fault would that be?" you called back. The sound of your voices stirred Spade, who responded with happy coos directed up at her father.

Remy's expression melted at the sound. "Not Remy's fault if you're too weak to open a cabinet, cher," he teased, though his voice was warm with affection.

"I'm gonna baby-proof your bedside table," you threatened playfully as you finally conquered the cabinet. In response, Spade began wiggling energetically in her father's arms.

Remy clutched dramatically at his chest with his free hand. "Not the bedside table, cher, that's low!"

As you started on breakfast, Remy found himself locked in battle with an infant determined to make a meal of his shirt. He tried redirecting her attention to a soft, chewable toy, but Spade remained fixated on her chosen target.

"Why does she only want to eat Remy's shirt and not the damn toy?" he grumbled in French, looking up at you with clear frustration.

"She's gotta soften her pa up to eat him when she's big enough," you quipped back.

Remy rolled his eyes but couldn't help chuckling. "Remy is not on the menu," he protested, still struggling to keep his shirt out of Spade's surprisingly strong grip.

"She doesn't seem to agree," you laughed, watching your husband's losing battle with your determined daughter.

"How can one little baby be so strong?" he complained, shooting you a desperate look.

Taking pity on him, you crossed the room and, with perfect timing, swapped his shirt for her pacifier just as she was about to chomp down. "Baby strength is no joke, hubs."

Remy sagged with relief as Spade happily accepted the pacifier, her mission to devour his shirt temporarily forgotten. "Thanks, cher," he said, flashing you a grateful smile. "Remy was about to lose his shirt there."

"And if Remy doesn't do something about the mosquito catcher on the fritz, he'll have to do more than worry about one baby-slobbered shirt – he'll have to do all his laundry," you warned playfully before returning to the stove.

Panic flashed across his face at the prospect. "Damn, okay, okay, Remy'll fix it," he quickly agreed, bouncing Spade gently in his arms. The laundry threat never failed.

"Good. 'Cause I can't even step outside without being eaten alive," you grumbled. "I told you the kiddy pool was a bad idea."

Remy chuckled sheepishly. "Remy didn't know the mosquitoes would love it so much," he admitted, guilt coloring his voice as he patted Spade's back, deliberately avoiding your pointed look.

The sizzle of bacon filled the kitchen as you worked at the stove. Remy wandered in, still cradling Spade, who had finally given up her campaign against his shirt in favor of contentedly gumming her pacifier.

"Smells good, cher," he said, peering over your shoulder. "Need Remy to set the table?" He shifted Spade to one arm, already reaching for plates with his free hand.

"If you can manage without putting our daughter down for two seconds," you teased, glancing back at him with a knowing smile.

Remy huffed indignantly. "Remy is perfectly capable of multitasking," he declared, though his grip on Spade remained secure as ever. As if to prove his point, he began one-handedly arranging plates and silverware on the table, adding a little flourish as he set down each item.

"Show-off," you muttered fondly, hiding your smile as you flipped the bacon.

"You love it," he shot back with a wink, his red-on-black eyes gleaming with mischief. Spade chose that moment to spit out her pacifier, which Remy caught with lightning-quick reflexes before it hit the floor. "Ha! See? Master of multitasking!"

"My hero," you deadpanned, but couldn't help laughing at his triumphant expression.

The morning sunlight had grown stronger now, streaming through the kitchen windows and catching the auburn highlights in Remy's hair. Spade reached up, trying to grab at the light playing across her father's face, making happy gurgling sounds.

"What you reaching for, petit?" Remy cooed, bouncing her gently. "You trying to catch the sun? Just like your papa, always reaching for things you shouldn't."

"Speaking of things we shouldn't reach for," you said, sliding the last of the bacon onto a plate, "I saw you trying to teach her how to shuffle cards yesterday."

Remy had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. "Was just showing her the basics, cher. Never too early to learn."

"She's a month old, Remy."

"And already showing great potential!" he insisted, grinning as Spade grabbed his finger and tried to stuff it in her mouth. "See? She's got quick hands!"

You shook your head, carrying plates to the table. "No daughter of mine is going to be running card scams before she can walk."

"Of course not," Remy agreed too quickly. "Maybe after she walks though..."

"Remy LeBeau!"

He laughed, dancing away from your mock-threatening spatula. "Remy's kidding! Mostly," he added under his breath, pressing a kiss to Spade's forehead as she yawned widely.

"I heard that," you warned, but couldn't keep the smile from your voice. "Now sit down before breakfast gets cold. And yes, you have to put her in her bouncer."

Remy pouted but carefully settled Spade into her bouncer next to the table, making sure she could still see both of you. "There you go, petit. Watch your old papa eat his breakfast before your maman makes him fix that mosquito trap."

"And the gutters," you added sweetly, passing him the coffee.

He nearly choked on his first sip. "The gutters? Remy didn't hear nothing about gutters!"

"Must have slipped my mind," you said innocently. "But while you're up there..."

"This is blackmail," he grumbled, but his eyes were twinkling as he watched you over the rim of his coffee cup.

"I prefer to think of it as creative motivation," you replied, reaching over to wipe a bit of drool from Spade's chin as she watched you both with wide eyes.

"You're lucky Remy loves you both so much," he said, his mock complaint softened by the genuine warmth in his voice.

"We know," you smiled, reaching across to squeeze his hand. "And we love you too, even if you do install unnecessary baby-proofing and create mosquito breeding grounds in the backyard."

"Remy's never going to live down that kiddie pool, is he?"

"Not a chance, mon cœur. Not a chance."

--- Two Years Later ---

"Spade Charlotte LeBeau, you get back here right now!"

Your toddler's delighted giggle echoed through the house as she zoomed around the corner, still in her pajamas, clutching one of Remy's playing cards in her tiny fist. Her dark hair bounced in messy curls around her face, and her red-on-black eyes – so like her father's – sparkled with mischief.

"Non!" she called back in a perfect imitation of Remy's accent, disappearing into the living room.

You shot your husband an accusatory look as he leaned against the doorframe, trying and failing to hide his proud grin. "This is your fault. She's picking up your accent AND your sticky fingers."

"Remy has no idea what you mean, cher," he said innocently, but the effect was ruined by his barely contained laughter. "Though you got to admit, her form is getting better."

"She's two, Remy. She shouldn't have any 'form' for stealing."

"Borrowing," he corrected automatically. "And did you see how smooth that lift was? Didn't even feel her take it from Remy's pocket."

A crash from the living room interrupted your response, followed by a small "Uh oh."

Both of you rushed in to find Spade standing amid a scatter of books from the fallen bookshelf, still clutching the Queen of Hearts. She looked up at you with wide eyes, lower lip trembling slightly.

"Accident?" she offered hopefully, in that same Cajun lilt that made it impossible to stay mad at her – a fact she had definitely figured out and used to her advantage.

Remy scooped her up before you could respond. "What's the rule about climbing, petit?"

"Only climb with Papa?" she tried, wrapping her arms around his neck and batting her eyelashes.

"The real rule," you prompted, trying to keep a stern face despite how adorable she looked.

Spade sighed dramatically – another trait she'd picked up from Remy. "No climbing furniture 'cause it's dangerous an' Maman will make Papa sleep on the couch."

"That's right," you nodded, then paused. "Wait, who taught you that last part?"

"Papa did!" she announced proudly, while Remy suddenly became very interested in straightening her pajama top.

You shook your head, bending to pick up the scattered books. "And what do we say when we make a mess, baby?"

"Sorry, Maman," she said, looking genuinely contrite now. Then she held out the playing card. "An' sorry I took Papa's card."

"Good girl," you smiled, kissing her forehead. "Now, how about breakfast?"

"Beignets!" Spade cheered, bouncing in Remy's arms.

"Non, petit," Remy chuckled. "Remember what happened last time? You got powdered sugar everywhere."

"But Papa," she whined, giving him the puppy-dog eyes that usually worked like a charm. "You said I was getting better at being sneaky quiet! I can be sneaky quiet with beignets!"

You raised an eyebrow at Remy. "Oh? Teaching our toddler to be 'sneaky quiet' now, are we?"

He had the decency to look sheepish. "Just... general life skills?"

"Down!" Spade demanded suddenly, squirming in his arms. The moment her feet touched the ground, she was off again, this time making a beeline for the kitchen.

"She's not..." Remy started.

"Going for the lower cabinet where you hide the beignet mix?" you finished. "The one you think I don't know about?"

A clatter from the kitchen confirmed your suspicions, followed by Spade's triumphant "Found it!"

"Now that," Remy said admiringly, "she definitely got from you, cher. Remy's not nearly that good at finding hiding spots."

"Keep telling yourself that, hun," you laughed, heading to the kitchen where your daughter was already trying to climb onto the counter. "Though we might need to work on her subtlety."

"Subtlety comes later," Remy assured you, catching Spade mid-climb. "Right after we teach her proper card handling and basic lock picking."

"Remy!"

"Kidding!" he protested, then whispered loudly to Spade, "We'll talk about it when you're three."

Spade giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Promise, Papa?"

"Promise, petit. Now, how about we make Maman some proper breakfast to make up for the bookshelf incident?"

"Can we make it explode?" Spade asked hopefully.

"NO!" you both shouted, remembering all too well the "glowing" pancake incident from last month.

"Just a little boom?" she bargained, making her eyes go wide and innocent.

--- Ten Years Later ---

The first sign something was wrong came at breakfast. Spade sat hunched over her untouched cereal, her normally bright red-on-black eyes dulled with discomfort. At twelve, she was all gangly limbs and attitude, her dark curls pulled back in a messy ponytail.

"You feeling okay, petit?" Remy asked, concern evident in his voice as he watched her push the cereal around her bowl.

"M'fine," she mumbled, then winced and pressed a hand to her stomach. "Just... crampy."

You and Remy exchanged a knowing look. You'd been expecting this, had prepared for it, but somehow it still felt surreal that your baby was growing up so fast.

"Why don't you go lay down, sweet?" you suggested gently. "I'll bring you some pain medicine and a heating pad."

Spade nodded miserably and stood up – then froze, her face flushing red. "Maman," she whispered, panic in her voice. "I need... I think I..."

"Go on to the bathroom, baby. I'll be right there," you assured her, already heading for the cabinet where you'd stashed supplies months ago.

Remy looked slightly panicked himself. "Should Remy... do something?"

"You can start by not freaking out," you told him with a small smile. "Remember what we talked about?"

He nodded, taking a deep breath. "Oui. Normal, natural, nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Good man. Now go call the school and let them know she's staying home today."

As you headed to the bathroom with supplies, you heard Spade sniffling. "Maman? This really sucks."

"I know, baby," you said softly, letting yourself in. "But we've got this, okay? Let me show you..."

Twenty minutes later, Spade was curled up on the couch in fresh clothes, a heating pad pressed to her stomach, while Remy hovered nearby like an anxious mother hen.

"Papa, you're being weird," she grumbled, though there was affection in her voice.

"Remy's not being weird," he protested. "Remy's being... supportive."

"You've asked if I'm okay twelve times in ten minutes."

"Because Remy loves you, petit," he said, dropping a kiss on her forehead. "Even if you're growing up too fast."

She rolled her eyes but smiled – then suddenly yelped as the TV remote in her hand began to glow with a familiar magenta energy.

"Papa?" she asked, voice shaking as the glow intensified.

Remy moved fast, snatching the remote and absorbing the charge before it could explode. "Well," he said, trying to keep his voice light, "looks like you're getting more than one kind of change today, petit."

"Is... is that what your power feels like?" Spade asked, staring at her hands in wonder and fear. "Like everything's buzzing under your skin?"

"That's right," Remy nodded, sitting beside her. "Been wondering if you'd inherit that particular family trait."

You joined them on the couch, wrapping an arm around Spade's shoulders. "How are you feeling, baby? And don't say fine."

"Scared," she admitted quietly. "And excited. And my stomach still hurts. And..." She gestured helplessly at a decorative pillow, which had started to glow. Remy quickly grabbed that too.

"Hormones probably triggered it," you mused. "Logan mentioned that happens sometimes with mutant teenagers."

"Great," Spade groaned. "So not only do I have to deal with... this stuff, but now I might blow things up when I get cranky?"

"Just like your papa," you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

"Hey!" Remy protested. "Remy has excellent control... most of the time."

Spade giggled, then winced and curled tighter around the heating pad. "Can we just... watch movies today? And maybe Papa can teach me how to not explode things?"

"'Course, petit," Remy said softly. "Though maybe we start with something less explosive than the remote, non? Playing cards are made to handle a charge better."

"Is that why you always have them?" she asked, perking up slightly despite her discomfort.

"Partly," he admitted. "Also 'cause they look cool when Remy throws them."

"Can I learn that too?"

"Let's master 'not blowing up the furniture' first," you suggested firmly.

"Maman's right," Remy agreed. "Besides, you need to rest today. Movie first, mutation training later."

Spade nodded, then suddenly looked mortified. "Oh god, do I have to tell people at school about... either thing?"

"Only if you want to, baby," you assured her. "Though we should probably let Uncle Logan know about your powers manifesting. He'll want to start training you."

"Can we not call him Uncle Logan anymore?" Spade groaned. "I'm not a little kid."

"You'll always be Remy's petit," he said, ruffling her hair and expertly dodging her swat.

"Papa!" she protested, but she was smiling. Then she looked down at her hands again, watching the faint energy dance across her fingertips. "Will... will it always feel like this?"

"Non," Remy assured her. "You'll learn to control it. Channel it. Make it part of you instead of fighting it. And your maman and papa will be here every step of the way."

"Promise?"

"Promise, petit. Now, what movie you want to watch while Remy teaches you the basics of energy manipulation?"

"Something with explosions?" she asked hopefully.

You and Remy shared a look over her head – equal parts exasperation and love.

--- Five Years Later ---

You knew something was off when Spade started wearing long sleeves in summer. At seventeen, she'd grown into her powers beautifully, the same casual grace with kinetic energy that Remy possessed. But lately, she'd been jumpy, secretive – and definitely not charging anything she touched, which was unusual for a girl who typically left a trail of glowing objects in her wake.

The truth came out on a humid Tuesday evening, when Remy came home early from a mission.

"Petit?" he called out, heading upstairs. "Remy brought those macarons you like from that place in–"

He stopped dead in Spade's doorway. Your daughter was hastily pulling on a hoodie, but not before both of you caught sight of the suppression collar around her neck. The kind sold in sketchy places to mutants who wanted to "pass" as human.

The box of macarons hit the floor.

"Papa!" Spade yelped, yanking the hood up. "You're supposed to be in Paris until tomorrow!"

"And you're supposed to be at study group," you said from behind Remy, making her jump. "Want to explain the collar, baby?"

Spade's eyes darted between you both, then to her window, clearly calculating if she could make the jump. A habit she'd definitely picked up from Remy.

"Don't even think about it," you warned. "Sit."

She sat on her bed, pulling her knees up to her chest. "It's not what you think."

"Non?" Remy's voice was dangerously quiet. "Because what Remy thinks is his daughter is ashamed of being a mutant."

"I'm not!" Spade protested, eyes filling with tears. "I just... I wanted..."

"To be normal?" you asked softly, sitting beside her while Remy paced the room, playing cards flickering with agitated energy between his fingers.

"To go on a date without setting anything on fire!" she burst out. "To hold hands without worrying about blowing someone up! To be able to... to kiss someone without..."

The cards in Remy's hands stopped moving. "Kiss someone?"

Spade went pale. "I mean... hypothetically..."

"Spade Charlotte LeBeau," you said firmly. "The whole truth. Now."

She took a shuddering breath. "His name is Alex. He's in my AP Chemistry class. We've been dating for three months and he doesn't know I'm a mutant and I really, really like him and please don't explode anything, Papa!"

The last part came out in a rush as the cards in Remy's hands began to glow ominously.

"Three months?" Remy's accent got thicker with emotion. "You've been hiding this for three months?"

"Remy," you warned, seeing the hurt in your daughter's eyes. "Let her explain."

"I wanted to tell you," Spade whispered, fingers twisting in her sleeves. "But I was scared. Not of you!" she added quickly. "Of... of messing it up. His parents are kind of... they don't like mutants. And Alex isn't like that, he's different, but I just wanted a chance to show him who I am before he found out what I am."

"You are not a what, petit," Remy said fiercely, the glow fading from his cards as he knelt in front of her. "You are a who. A beautiful, powerful, amazing who. And anyone who can't see that..."

"Isn't worth hiding yourself for," you finished gently.

"But what if he is?" Spade's voice cracked. "Worth it, I mean. He's smart and funny and he doesn't make stupid jokes about the school being full of freaks like the other kids do. He stood up for Jamie last week when someone was bullying him about his scales. He doesn't even know I go there, but he stood up anyway."

You and Remy exchanged a look. You remembered being young, remembered how hard it was to bridge the gap between mutant and human worlds.

"Take off the collar, petit," Remy said finally.

"Papa..."

"Take it off," he repeated, gentler this time. "If this boy is worth your time, he's worth your trust. And if he breaks that trust..." The cards flickered again.

"You will not threaten a teenager," you told him firmly, then turned to Spade. "But your father's right about the collar, baby. It's dangerous, and it's not healthy – physically or emotionally."

Spade's hands shook as she unclasped the collar, her natural energy immediately sparking at her fingertips. "I don't know how to tell him."

"Start with the truth," you suggested. "And maybe somewhere without too many breakable objects."

"And if he runs?" she asked in a small voice.

Remy sat beside her, pulling her into a hug. "Then he's not the one, petit. But you don't know until you try. Just... next time? Tell Remy before you start dating the normie boy? So Remy can do a proper background check?"

"Papa!"

"What? It's what any responsible father would do!"

"You are not running a background check on my boyfriend!"

"Too late," you muttered, making them both turn to stare at you. "What? You think your father's the only one who knows how to do research? He's got a B+ average, one speeding ticket, volunteers at the animal shelter, and his Instagram is full of science puns and pictures of his little sister's soccer games."

Spade groaned and flopped back on her bed. "I hate this family."

"Non, you don't," Remy grinned, ruffling her hair. "Now, about those macarons Remy dropped..."

"Are they stress-eating macarons?" Spade asked hopefully.

"They are now," you agreed. "And while we eat, you can tell us more about this boy. Like why you didn't mention that he's in your AP Chem study group – the one you're supposedly at right now?"

Spade's eyes widened. "How did you..."

"Parent knowledge," you and Remy said in unison.

---Three months later---

The Greene family's dining room was impeccably decorated, all crystal glasses and polished silver that made you grateful for all those etiquette lessons Storm had insisted on. Spade sat beside Alex, wearing her favorite dark purple dress, her power carefully controlled despite her obvious nerves. Remy, for once, had traded his usual trench coat for a proper blazer, though you'd caught him shuffling cards in his pocket on the drive over.

"So," Mrs. Greene said, cutting her chicken with precise movements, "you teach at that... special school?"

"Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters," you confirmed, noting how she avoided saying the name. "Yes, we both do."

"And that's where Spade attends?" Mr. Greene's tone was carefully neutral, but his grip on his fork was too tight.

Alex shifted uncomfortably. He'd been wonderful when Spade had told him about her powers, had even thought they were cool, but this dinner had been his idea – wanting to do things "properly." Now, watching his parents' barely concealed disdain, you could see him regretting it.

"Best education a parent could ask for," Remy said smoothly, his accent deliberately softened. "Top test scores in the state."

"I'm sure," Mrs. Greene murmured, then added with false brightness, "Though it must be... challenging, dealing with all those special needs children."

Spade's glass began to glow faintly. Without missing a beat, Remy reached over and touched it, absorbing the charge.

"Actually," you said pleasantly, "our students are quite gifted. Spade's in line for early admission to NYU's biochemistry program."

"Really?" Mr. Greene looked surprised, as if he couldn't quite reconcile this with his preconceptions. "That's... impressive."

"Our Spade's always been remarkable," Remy said proudly, then added with deliberate casualness, "Gets it from both sides of the family."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees as understanding dawned on the Greenes' faces.

"Both sides?" Mrs. Greene's voice had gone up an octave. "You mean you're all...?"

"Mutants?" Spade finished quietly, lifting her chin with a defiance that was pure Remy. "Yes. We are."

"Alex!" his mother hissed. "You didn't tell us..."

"Because it doesn't matter, Mom," Alex said firmly, reaching for Spade's hand under the table. "Spade's brilliant and kind and amazing, and her being a mutant is just another part of who she is."

"Doesn't matter?" Mr. Greene's fork clattered to his plate. "These people are dangerous! They're–"

"Very capable of hearing you," you interrupted coolly. "And 'these people' include your son's girlfriend and her parents, who are sitting right here."

"How do we know she hasn't... done something to him?" Mrs. Greene demanded, standing abruptly. "Used some kind of mind control or–"

"Maman's not a telepath," Spade said, her voice shaking slightly but determined. "And neither am I. I can charge objects with kinetic energy, like my father. That's all."

"That's all?" Mr. Greene laughed harshly. "You mean you can make things explode? And we're supposed to be comfortable with you dating our son?"

"More comfortable than Remy is with his daughter dating someone whose parents think she's a monster," Remy said quietly, but there was steel beneath the silk of his voice.

"Mom, Dad, please," Alex pleaded. "Just give them a chance. Get to know them. Spade's family is amazing – they've been nothing but welcoming to me."

"Of course they have," Mrs. Greene snapped. "They're probably thrilled their daughter managed to snare a normal boy–"

The wine glass in Remy's hand shattered.

Everyone froze. Slowly, deliberately, Remy uncurled his fingers, letting the charged fragments fall harmlessly to the tablecloth.

"Remy suggests," he said softly, his accent thick with controlled anger, "that you think very carefully about your next words regarding his daughter."

"Are you threatening us?" Mr. Greene stood, reaching for his phone. "In our own home?"

"Non," Remy smiled, but it wasn't a pleasant expression. "Remy's just making sure we understand each other. Because Remy's daughter? She's been crying herself to sleep worrying about making a good impression tonight. She pressed her best dress and practiced controlling her powers for hours because she wanted you to see her as a person first. But clearly," he gestured to the ruined tablecloth, "Remy wasted money on this nice jacket."

"I think," you said, standing and placing a calming hand on Remy's shoulder, "we should go."

"Wait!" Alex stood too. "I'm coming with you."

"Alex, sit down!" his mother ordered.

"No." He moved to stand beside Spade, who was fighting back tears. "I'm seventeen, I can make my own choices. And I choose not to stay here and listen to you insult the girl I love and her family."

The word 'love' hung in the air. Spade's eyes widened, and even Remy's anger faltered for a moment.

"If you walk out that door with them," Mr. Greene warned, "don't bother coming back tonight."

"Fine," Alex said, his voice steady despite his pale face. "I'll stay at Connor's. At least his parents judge people by who they are, not what they are."

You gathered your things in tense silence, Remy's hand protectively on Spade's shoulder. At the door, Mrs. Greene made one last attempt.

"Alex, please. We're just trying to protect you."

"From what?" he asked tiredly. "From Spade, who helps me with calculus and volunteers at the shelter with me? From her mom, who makes sure I eat properly when I'm studying late? From her dad, who's been teaching me to change my own oil so I don't get ripped off at mechanics?" He shook his head. "The only thing I need protection from is this kind of prejudice."

You and Remy shared a look as you walked out with the teens in front. You might have had your opinions at first but you definitely liked Alex now. 

[dinogoofymutated]

im 100% new to x-men(i grew up in a DC family lol) but I am just. SO down bad for remy. idk how to write requests or anything, but can I ask for headcanons for him with a touchstarved fem reader? sfw or nsfw, both, idc really he's just rotating in my brain, gambit my beloved

Gambit/GN!reader

Dude I completely get it!! I was a HUGE x-men fan as a kid and as I grew up the hyperfixation fell into the back of my mind. I too grew up mostly on DC and I feel like the reason DC became my go-to was because there's just not a ton of fanfiction for the x-men, reader inserts in particular. I'm working on fixing that! But my full-length fics are a little hard to finish/start. Anyway- Remy is definitely one of the top #3 x-men to be down bad for lol!

TWs: none that I can think of atm. Mostly fluffy goodness! Written picturing a fem! Reader but no pronouns mentioned

I definitely think that it's not a completely ridiculous idea that one of Remy's love languages could be touch, despite how his relationship with Rogue revolves around the absence of touch!

Tbh, I feel like he's just respectful of his partner's wants and needs in a relationship, and if touching and cuddling is a no-go he's perfectly fine with backing off and showing his love in other ways!

BUT! when you give him the go-ahead, he's all over you. Hugs, cuddles, kisses, PDA, all of it!

One of his favorite things to do is catch you in the kitchen, coming up behind you and snaking his hands around your waist. He'll press his face into your hair and neck, sometimes giving you kisses, but really he just does it because he wants to feel you against him.

I think he secretly enjoys how easy it is to get you melting in his embrace. He goes out of his way to fluster you, flirting until you go red, then pulls you close. He'll nuzzle you affectionately, kiss your temple and cheeks, hold you lovingly until he feels all the tension leave your body. He especially likes when you lean into his hands when he holds your face. He knows just how much you love him, and he's determined to show you all the love he knows you deserve.

    “Cher.” Remy’s chest rumbles with the words. You only respond with a hum, tucked into his side comfortably. The afternoon had started with a movie, originally. The two of you had some free time, and Gambit had a movie he really wanted to watch, so movie night it was. You were watching at first, you promise you were, but it was easy to get distracted by Remy. When the movie started, you were sitting next to him, leaning into his side with a bowl of popcorn in your lap, but that position could only be comfortable for so long. You were squirming, trying to relax as best you could, but after 45 minutes of sitting on this couch, it was like every bump and corner on the sofa was digging into you.

    Remy, being the observant sweetheart he is, didn’t hesitate to scoop you up into his lap. You squealed at first, surprised by the action, but Remy simply laughed at you, leaning back to lay down on the couch with you against his chest. Unsurprisingly, this was much more comfortable. Maybe a little too comfortable, as it didn’t take long for you to stop paying attention to the TV entirely. You snuggled closer to Remy as you started to doze off. One of his hands rested against your lower back, his other hand cupping the back of your neck, caressing and threading his fingers through his hair. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep against him.

    “Cheerrr.” Remy says again, drawing the words out. “Movie’s been over f’ a while.” You pout at him, sighing sleepily as you tuck your face into his neck. He chuckles again, thumbs caressing your skin idly.

    “You don’t wanna cuddle anymore?” You ask, maybe a little bit more sad than you should be, or would’ve been if you were more awake.

    “Now Gambit didn’t say that.” Remy purrs. You whine again as he moves a little, adjusting a little so that he can press a kiss to your temple. You reluctantly untuck yourself from his neck, rewarded with a sweet kiss from Remy. The action makes you smile. He’s looking at you with such love and adoration, like no one has looked at you before, and it has you feeling loved beyond measure. You lean into his touch as he cups your face, holding his hand to your cheek to keep him there.

    Content couldn’t begin to explain how you felt in this moment.

[uglypastels]

Hey can you do a coffee shop AU ab Gambit where the reader works at the shop Remy frequents? But one day there’s an attack and her mutation manifests?? Love your writing!

stick with me as I try to figure out how to write his accent lol. it's just a quick and fun lil thang but i hope you like it. [also, is this my first ever coffee shop au?? it might be. don't quote me on that tho]

warnings: slight cursing. supervillain attack.

~ X-Men Requests Open ~ Masterlist ~

‘Will that be the usual, Remy?’ You already pulled out the paper cup to write his name and order on it, looking up expectantly for him to confirm your suspicion.

‘You know it, chere.’ 

‘One cafe au lait, coming up.’ You chirped with a smile, noting it down on the side of the cup. Like the well-oiled machine the two of you have become over the past weeks, he didn’t need to hear the price and just slid a five-dollar bill across the counter and pushed another exact bill through the slit of the little tip jar next to the register.

‘Well, you know,’ and just like any other time, you couldn’t help but comment on his generosity, ‘you really don’t have to do all that. It’s just coffee.’ As much as you appreciated his gesture, a twinge of guilt struck you as he practically paid double for what already was an overpriced beverage.

‘It ain't for the coffee,’ he smirked, which, with a flash of heat, immediately radiated onto your cheeks. It all happened like clockwork, and so you reminded yourself that that’s just who he was.  You were sure he did it with anyone, so you mustn’t let it get to you. To not get too hung up over a customer who made it a habit throughout his day to flirt with his barista.

‘Here ya go,’ you presented him with the drink. 

‘I donno how you do it, belle,’ Remy said after his first sip, a satisfied expression spreading over his face. ‘Perfect. Evry time.’

‘Why, thank you.’ You reciprocated his smile, but really, it was no big deal. You were just doing your job—something that was only easier considering your talents. Practically being a human heat conductor made preparing a perfect cup o’ joe fairly simple. Still, when a charming Cajun walked into your establishment and showered you in compliments on a nearly daily basis, the effect might have been a bit stronger than a one-off comment from a stranger. No matter how hard you tried, it was impossible to deny his allure. 

For a Tuesday morning, the café was surprisingly clear of customers besides a couple of taken tables at the windows, where some early birds had begun their day by reading the paper or getting a headstart on their work. And so, with no line rushing him off behind him, Remy sipped his coffee right by your side. 

‘Say, don’t you have somewhere else to be, Rem?’ you teased as you wiped the counter.

‘With a beautiful lady righ in front of me, there ain't nowhere I rather be.’

‘Oh, shush, you.’ You tried to ignore it, but the steam coming off from the once wet handtowel you used to clean was saying differently. Both of you were about to open your mouths, the snarky banter already dripping from both your lips, but that all faltered as the ground beneath you shook. The soft ambience brought on by the instrumental music playing in the background over the speakers was overrun by the aggressive shaking of all the products and measuring jugs falling to the ground. But soon, even that was silenced by the screams that followed. A stampede of morning commuters was running through the street, eyes wide and pale with fear. 

‘What the–’ you muttered out, carefully making your way to the window. Perhaps not the smartest move, but the curiosity had gotten the better of you. And it sure had; as right as you had reached your lookout point, all your senses were thrown off guard by an explosion. The world around you turned upside down— or was that just you as you were thrown off your feet and across the room following a million pieces of shattered glass? 

You were ready to fall into the puddle of shards, but instead, you were met with the hold of two strong arms, and once you dared to open your eyes, you saw a pair of glowing red ones. 

‘You alright?’ Remy put you down on the ground. 

Still, in shock, all you could respond with was a nod. You watched as Remy made his way across the glass-covered floor, calling out to the fear-stricken people in the café. 

‘Is gonna be all right, everyone.’ He helped a lady get back up on her feet and make her way to the back of the room. ‘Stay inside. Get z’away from the street.’ And even though you wanted to listen to his command, you found yourself walking back towards him. 

‘What are you doing, cher?’ With his hand on your shoulder, he held you back from taking another step. 

‘I wanna help.’ It was clear enough to you that he was about to fight whatever it was that was scaring all those people outside, and there was no way in hell you’d let him go out there on his own. 

‘Do you even know what you’re up against?’ 

‘Do you?’ you hit back, and that response clearly pleased him. The worry on his lips turned up into a smirk. So, the barista had a spark to her. It didn’t surprise him, necessarily. If anything, the excitement from seeing this side of you sparked a rush through his whole body. 

Side by side, you ran out into the street, avoiding the last few incomers who were trying their best to escape whatever it was you were about to greet. And what that was, you soon found out. All you had to do was look up into the sky.

‘Le Bon Dieu.’ Remy cursed under his breath.

‘Damn.’ You gasped at the sight of what you could only describe to be a giant robot floating above the tall buildings. Eyes glowing with a fire that burst in jetstreams of destruction.

Perhaps you were way in over your head, getting into a fight with a steel giant, fighting with a nearly complete stranger, and yet, when you looked up at him, and your eyes met, you had a feeling that you’d be just fine.

the end.

thank you for reading 💗

if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗

[fandomnerd9602]

Deadpool variant Reader meeting Elektra, Blade and gambit

Pool-Reader: *to Elektra* "I'm surprised to see you but don't worry it's a nice surprise

Pool-Reader: *to Blade* "I like you more than Black panther also big fan of your work"

Pool-Reader: *grabs gambits jacket and shakes him* "WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN FOR THE PAST DECADE WE'VE WAITED FOR SO LONG FOR THIS?"

Gambit: whatiswrongwiththislittlejunebughere?

Y/N-Pool: nothing…are the minions your dialect coach or something?

Laura: Cajun. Remy’s Cajun

Y/N locks eyes with Laura, love at first sight…

Laura: and you are?

Y/N: your density.

Laura: what?

Y/N: sorry I’m a Deadpool and I’m your destiny.

[bamboobooshark]

REMY LEBEAU X LITTLE!READER

⊹ ࣪ ˖🂱 ⋆˚⟡ BROKEN RULES : 840 WRDS

<RATING: PG, FLUFF, CRYING, AGERE>

A/N : “Bamb can we please get content other than X-Men agere?!” Not yet!!!!!! Please!!!!! My only CGs are fictional!!!! And I’m also in the process of writing a Wolvie request, Rogue headcanons, and tons of other stuff… ANYWAY uhm this is based off of one of my CG!Remy headcanons, so I hope y’all enjoy :]

<SFW INTERACTIONS ONLY, MDNI/18+ ONLY BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED>

Remy has been watching you all day. From the moment you came running to him because you had a nightmare at almost three in the morning, making you breakfast, watching Saturday morning cartoons, coloring with you, listening to some music, and playing card games with you. He was so tired right now. He tries his best to keep himself awake while being slumped against the couch. His hand absentmindedly runs up and down your back. You’re snuggled against his side with the back of your head pressing his chest. You kick your feet a bit off of the couch. Everything is so peaceful right now: Remy’s touch, his soft humming, your favorite movie on the TV, the sound of your legs moving against the fabric of the couch. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Remy yawnes loudly, unable to contain his sleepy demeanor any longer. He moves his arm from your back to rest against your shoulder, his thumb reaching up and rubbing your cheek. “Gambit’s sorry, cher. I’m tired right now. I can barely keep my eyes open,” he mumbles while looking down at you with a tired gaze. It takes you a moment to process what he’s saying considering how focused you are. Once you get a second to take in what he said, you pout softly. You paw at his chest and give him a pitiful look while whining. He lets out a sad huff. Remy hates it when you’re sad. He doesn’t get angry; he just gets sad too. You’re his favorite little kid. He can’t let you be sad.

“Stay awake a little longer. Please, papa. I don’ want you to go to sleep,” you whine to him. Remy nods in understanding to your gentle pleading. “I know, mon chéri. But I can’ stand to be awake much longer,” he tells you. He displays an odd look on his face as he attempts to come up with a compromise. When he does, he kisses your forehead out of pure joy for thinking of such a good idea. “How ‘bout this? You an’ I go upstairs an’ cuddle. You can stay wit’ Gambit and he can stay wit’ you, cher,” he suggests with a sure smirk. Despite his confidence in his idea, you shake your head no. Remy bites the inside of his cheek nervously in response. He subconsciously holds his breath as worry begins to set in. He can’t let you go unsupervised or not be by his side. You and him have to be practically attached when you’re regressed. The last thing he wants is for you to end up lonely or anything worse. You go back to focusing on your movie, and Remy trusts himself; he could take a little power nap. Nothing too long, right?

 

He may have been a little far off. Next thing he knows, he’s waking up to a startling clanging and the sound of your feet quickly padding along the floor. He rubs his eyes and cards through his messy hair while looking around. The second he hears you crying, he goes into complete panic. “Oh! Mon chéri! Where are you? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asks out loud while getting onto his feet and trying to find you. You’re cowering in fear behind the couch, terrified that Remy is going to yell at you or punish you. However, when he finds you, he gives you the most genuine smile ever. He squats down and holds his hands out to you. “C’mon. Gambit ain’t mad. He is worried t’ough. He was scared you were hurt,” he explains to you while motioning for you to come into his arms. You nod your head and try your best to get to Remy your vision blurred by tears. “Dat’s it, mon chéri,” he praises as he pulls you to his chest. He wipes your tears and gently pets the back of your head with his warm hands.

“Now, care to tell Ol’ Remy what happened?” he asks sweetly. You nod your head against his chest slowly. You point over to the curtain rod that had fallen on the floor. Remy looks over with wide eyes and winces at the idea of every possibility of what could’ve happened. “I was walkin’ by the window and I slip on the curtain. I didn’ mean to make the metal thingy fall. I’m sorry, papa,” you explain, your voice quivering as you start crying again. “No, no, no. Dat ain’t no reason to be sorry. I promise. I don’t got any reason to be upset with you either. Long as mon chéri is safe,” he assures you, lifting up your hand to kiss the back of your palm. You giggle through your tears when he gives you the gentle kiss. Remy wipes another tear from your cheek and looks at you endearingly. “Dat’s it. Show Ol’ Remy dat adorable lil’ smile,” he coos. Out of impulse to do so, he pinches your cheeks softly, only resulting in more happy noises from you.

[talieee]

Card Tricks (Remy Labeau x Reader)

A/N: bro i wont lie this kinda sucks but I loved thinking about it in my head so i hope you like this too! couldnt bring myself to write the nsfw bit into this version but i think I eventually will come up with the audacity...? tbd. if you enjoy please reblog im very scared of putting this out there but if people like it ive got more where this came from. I'd like to thank @thirtysomethingloser92 for being that voice in me just fucking all and writing this :') youre my biggest remy inspo love you all <3

warnings: mild fixation of hands ( god i love them so much)

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It was one of those rare days where absolutely nothing was happening,a comfortable silence whelmed the mansion with the occasional muttering of some passing students. The professor had decided on a short weekend for everyone and many had taken the opportunity to spend it in their rooms.You sat comfortably on the large sofa of the common area of the x mansion, headphones in listening to some podcast and sketching out a design on a little notepad, oblivious to the menace that is Remy Labeau, who unbeknownst to you, had spotted you whilst he was wandering around aimlessly.

“Cher~” 

he sashays towards you, hand reaching into his coat pocket to draw out a deck of cards, fiddling as he approaches. He stops right in front of you and awaits your response. You, now recognizing that someone is calling out, moved to pluck out your headphones; looking up to the source of the voice and finally acknowledging Remy silently. Remy, unfazed by the lack of a vocal response, moves to sit down next to you. His hands shuffled and manoeuvring the cards skillfully, “wanna see Gambit do a lil card trick?” 

“Hm ...be my guest pretty boy, wow me” You shuffle around to face him, abandoning the notepad and the headphones to focus on Remy’s deck of cards. 

You watch a small smirk press itself on his face, before he briefly shuffles the cards and hands you the deck “pick a card cher, and don't show it to me. Then put it back in and shuffle to your liking”

You squint in suspicion, repeating what he had instructed, taking a glance and returning the deck to him.

Remy nods a soft thanks, eyes glinting mischievously as he takes the deck back. He then starts to shuffle and cut the cards, his hands moving swiftly and nimbly. His eyes occasionally glance up at you before returning to the deck, watching your face for any kind of change in expression. You, completely fixated on the way he shuffles, could not help admiring the nimble fingers; thin and lengthy, gliding across the cards calmly seemingly bending the deck to his will. Remy almost immediately picked this up; very much enjoying the glances on his fingers and the very obvious gulp and licking of lips that he could not help but smirk and comment on, “like whatcha see cher?” his voice low and thick with the classic Cajun he carried about. You hum in agreement, continuing to focus on his movements. Eventually he finishes shuffling after a few more unnecessary movements, cutting the deck and setting both decks down on the table.

“Which one dya think it is hm?”

You think carefully , “why am I choosin’, you're the magician-”

Remy chuckles, “ butcha a smart one ma belle, i'm sure you know where it is~”

You frown “you're just gonna make me tell you the card i picked and scour for it?”

Remy mock pouts looking at you with those red eyes “awhhh cher tsk you've gotta have a little more faith in lil old gambit~” you roll your eyes and scoff at his response” ~maybe i've found it a’ready and m just messin witcha….ya disappointed?”

You couldn't help but chuckle “i'm disappointed that you're takin this long..” 

Remy feigns offence “and i thought you were enjoying the show ma belle….” he sighs, gesturing at the decks again. 

You squint at the deck judgmentally, and eventually point to the left deck “that one”

Remy hums, reaching to draw the first card of the left deck, displaying….the exact card you had drawn. “This one?” You nod, applauding “heh, toldya you're smart enuf” he chuckles, picking up the remaining of the deck and keeping the deck, basking in the applause. “See cher? Trust and faith”

You scoffed crossing your arms, “never doubted pretty boy”

Gambit’s smirk only grows wider, both at your words and the nickname you’ve chosen to address him as.

“Pretty boy, eh? You’re not so bad yourself, ma belle.” He hides the cards, now crossing his arms expectantly “Now that I’ve impressed you with my card trick, how about you show me one of yours? I’m sure you have a few tricks up your sleeve, petite…"

You couldn't help but giggle, “ what's this show and tell?” but promptly giving into his request, pulling out your deck of cards “hows abouts i read your fortune pretty boy?”

Remy raises a brow, clearly intrigued. He grins as he leans in a bit, resting his chin on one hand. "Oh? Now you've got my attention. You'd read my future, ma belle?" You nod and begin to shuffle the tarot cards, nothing as showy as Gambit’s was, shuffling and closing your eyes to take a few deep breaths to maintain a calming presence to the shuffling deck; after all, maintaining a calm allows the cards to pick up on the other being read upon.

“Impressive. I hope my future isn't as bleak as some fortune tellers have claimed." Slowly, you spread the cards thin across the table before turning to Remy.

“Heh” you joke “I don't know Remy...ya giving off some hella bad juju” Remy chuckles, amused by your bluntness "Bad juju, eh? Ouch. And here I thought you were starting to like me, petite."

You ignore his comment, “Pick three of them and turn them as you see fit.” 

Remy grins, his smirk never seeming to leave his face. He looks at the cards in front of him, eyeing them carefully. With a chuckle, he reaches out and tentatively picks 3 cards, flipping them over as you collect the deck to study the three he had chosen and you couldn't help but laugh at the irony of his statement, “well this one” you begin, pointing to the first card: the Death. “This sucks but...its the first card so it describes your past…?” You mutter and look at him for confirmation. Remy lets out a low whistle, most definitely not expecting something as accurate as that.

“Well Cher ...couldn't be closer to the truth yea?” 

“Have faith in me yea?” you replied, mimicking his earlier comment which had made him chuckle as you glance at the second card: The Five of Cups, inverted. “What does that mean?” Remy picks it up, waving it and glancing at the design. You snatched it from him as you noticed the tell tale sign of his purple hues of him charging the card “do not charge my cards Labeau-” Remy raises his hand in surrender “-now this card suggests your current state of being…which isn't the best. This symbolises a sort of disruption in your life and you feel disconnected…perhaps its time for you to focus on yourself labeau..”

Remy’s smirk slowly fade as you comment. “I feel highly targeted by al’ this- its like ‘m an open book for ya cher…which I very much am not”

You ignore his comment, clearly moving onto this last card would perhaps lift his spirits up: The Ace of Cups. “This” you say softly “This is your future…” Remy turns his attention to the third card. The card that represents love and happiness. He stares at it for a moment, then looks at you. The smirk from earlier returning to his face “love an’ happiness? Quite unexpected i’d say chere…not quite what i was expecting”

You shrug, taking away the cards and offering them to Remy to fiddle with “well, expect the unexpected Labeau”

He takes the cards, flipping through all of them to glance at all their different designs as he continued “hmmm~ you really know what to say to cheer a man up ma belle...would you be able to read on who would be involved in the ‘love and happiness’?” 

You motion towards the cards, and he returns them to you and draws the first card per your instructions: The Queen of Wands. You glance at it, humming, “hm, someone who’s upbeat, courageous…someone who seems to be able to play with their strengths and weaknesses….”

Remy listens and acknowledges, playing with the card that he had drawn, “so jus’ someone like me but in more control of their’ lives yea cher?” unconsciously, he had begun charging the card but you’d been distracted shuffling to get more comfortable on the sofa that when you realised the issue it was too late. Remy had put down the card and the moment his hand left the card- bomfph. A cloud of purple smoke puffed up on the table, and the both of you moved to swat away the cloud. 

“Remy Labeau I told you-”

“M’ so sorry cher I didn’t mean to-”

“Meow”

The both of you stopped abruptly and glanced at the table. In place of the card was now an orange cat- but it had a slight glowy tinge to it. A sharp breath was sucked in…would it attack? It tilted its head at the two of you and lept right into Remy’s arms, purring as it rubbed itself against him, kneading its paws before curling up on his lap.

“Thats….what the-” you sputter “Gambit what the hell did you do to my card” 

“Cher I don't know, does ya think lil ol’ Gambit knew he was capable of creating this??” he motions to the cat, whispering softly trying not to wake it up but completely failing. The oyen arose, shuffling towards you instead and repeating its process and eventually curling up to sleep. The both of you immediately plunged into silence, completely unsure of what to do. The cat, now completely asleep and in peace in your lap and clearly had no intentions of harming. 

“Gambit thinks he should-” “Remy Labeau if you leave me with a glowing cat I will come for you and you will pay for abandoning your problem”

"...does this mean this is our child"

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