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rebelliousstories · 1 month

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Different Time

Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Mentions of Blood and Violence, Strong Language, Happy Endings

Word Count: 2,358

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: Being dragged into the Void by your good buddy Wade was not how you imagined to be spending your days after your lover had died.

A single card was fixed between her fingers as she walked behind the other two people on their journey. There was silence all around the trio as they walked through the field. She did not pay attention to what was being said, nor did she care very much. If it was of any importance to her, they would let her know.

Before she knew what was going on, a dog was running straight for them. But the man with long, flowing locks that was running behind made her finger tingle with energy. After Deadpool and the Wolverine ahead of her did not move to attack the man, she let that energy fizzle out. Not that it would have done much damage anyways. It was getting harder and harder to remember what it was like. And yet, she could see it so clearly in her mind; the first time he had shown her what he could do.

“So what can you do exactly? You just throw cards at people?”

“Nah, cher,” his hands came up to hold a card between his fingers, “is much more den dat. I charge da playin’ cards wit energy. And den dey go boom.” His chuckle followed shortly afterwards.

“Is that so huh?” She chuckled as well. But the man just smiled, and wrapped his arms around her anyways.

“See is like dis, cher. Watch and learn.”

With his arms around her, he held an ace of hearts. Flicking it in the air caused a pink glow to encompass it. She giggled as he swiped the card from the sky, and touched it to her skin. The resulting kinetic energy made her entire body jolt, but the man kept her grounded as it flowed through each and every muscle.

“Feel dat, cher?” His breath fanned across her cheek as she rested against his chest. Once she had recovered, she held her hand and felt the card laid in her palm. Flipping it over through her fingers, she managed to produce a glow and a light crackling energy field around the object.

“Atta girl, cher.” A kiss was laid upon her cheek, and she felt the day old scruff rub against the crook of her neck.

“You comin’, bub?” A gruff voice pulled her out of her thoughts. Snapping into reality, the three men in front of her were looking like they were off to go somewhere.

“Apologies,” came her reply.

“Did we just miss some exposition about you? I feel like we just missed a vital flashback into your tragic backstory. Besides, I would like to find out what you do exactly. We’ve never gotten a clear answer. You just sort of do everything, like Taylor Swift.” Wade was having none of her dismissal.

“What are you talking about?” She was utterly confused, but Logan waved the red menace of off.

“Don’t pay him any mind. Come on, let’s go.” They all made the trek out to the dense corn that housed an old Honda Odyssey, which made the merc in red pitch a hissy fit.

“Get in the fucking car.” Logan snapped at Wade, utterly feed up with his antics. Before being prompted, she threw open the side door and climbed n the back. She watched as Deadpool tried to run off with the sweet little pup that had found them, but Wolverine put a very fast stop to that. Defeated, Wade climbed in the passenger seat, while Logan went in the driver’s, and they were off.

Somewhere along the way, she must have dozed off. That was the only explanation for the memory she was experiencing right now. Except, she was not exactly experiencing it as t had happened. No, she was watching it from an outsider’s perspective.

The first thing she saw, was a dingy old motel room floor. And the next, was laughing. Looking up, she saw them. It was her, and her beau play fighting on the bed of the motel room.

“Now, you know bettah den to play dirty, cher. Ain’t no coyon, ya know?” Her lover had trapped her arms to her body, and was smiling as big as ever. Plush lips stretched across his face. Hazel eyes twinkled brightly.

“Didn’t hear you complaining about me playing dirty last night,” she teased. Turning in his arms, she looked up at her lover with nothing but adoration.

“Well, Gambit seems to remember you not complainin’ neither.” His lips came down onto hers.

Watching from her spot near the dresser, the future her could still feel the wonderful pressure of their kiss. Tracing her fingers over her own, melancholy filled her heart. He looked so alive in this moment. A moment that she cherished with her whole being.

“Ahh!”

Something far less pleasant awoke her this time from her thoughts. One of Wade’s knives had lodged itself in her shin. Blood steadily poured itself from the wound. And the world fell still for a moment. Raising her eyes, she felt herself shaking in anger and pain as Deadpool met her gaze.

“Oh no. Oh, I am so sorry.” He wheezed. But it was too late.

Her other leg raised and kicked him hard in the head. While he was disoriented, her mind contorted the blade that was in his hands; even the hand that was holding the knife began to bend and break. Holding her knee, she made herself fall through the car and onto the ground below.

“Where’d she go? Magic woman.” She heard Deadpool exclaim loudly. It was followed by a growl and a squeak. And the car started to rock with the force that they were going at each other.

Rolling to her right, she got out from underneath the vehicle before someone sent a blade through to her again. Releasing her leg, she crawled on her belly over to a tree that was still facing the car. Her forearms were covered in dirt and leaves now, as were the entire lower half of her body. While keeping an eye on the Odyssey, she worked to remove her boots and rolled up the pants from her injured leg. She could see the wound eventually and worked to clear her mind.

Regenerating always took a lot from her. It took a lot physically and mentally from her, but she could get it done. Groans slipped from her lips as she could feel her skin, muscles, and even veins being to stitch themselves together. A scar was all that was left in the place of the stab wound. The woman rested against the large piece of wood behind her and watched through blackening vision as both men were thrown through the car, and jumped back in with fervor.

That was the image that she passed out to. That was the last thing in the real world that she saw. She was not sure how much time had passed between her passing out, and when she woke up. But she immediately recognized that she was not where she was before. There were stone walls all around her, and she was lying down on a bed. Before sitting up, she looked and could see Logan with a bottle of liquor to her right.

Voices were muffled all around her. She could not pin point a specific one, but something felt off. Like someone or something was there, and how that was supposed to make her feel, she did not know. Groaning, she sat up and caught the attention of everyone else that was talking. One person much more than anyone else. A familiar drawl called out her name, and her body filled with dread. Footsteps came closer, and the muffs came off from her ear.

“Cher, that you?” Her heart sped up and it felt like it was beating out of her chest. A hand came to her shoulder, but she was not having whatever weird illusion this was. Grabbing whoever’s wrist this was, she used her body weight and center of gravity to pivot the person onto their back on the floor beside the bed she was on.

Staring down, her heart stopped. This was her beau. Remy was staring up at her with wide eyes. Letting out a shaking breath, her hands let go of the man as if he had burned her and stood upon shaking legs. The man on the ground was not doing much better than her. He stood just as quickly, and looked at the woman just the same.

“Oh, thank you Lord. It is you.” He whispered, taking a step closer. But her hand shot up to stop him from getting closer.

“Don’t. Who the hell are you? And what are you doing with that suit on?” She demanded, and watched the confusion sink in.

“Cher, it’s me. It’s your Gambit. I’m jus’ wonderin’ how in da hell you here now.” Remy breathed.

“Oh my god!” Everyone’s attention was brought to Deadpool who was wide eyed in his mask. “This is your tragic backstory. You and him…”

“I need some air.” She turned on her heels, and phased through her wall till she was outside in the forest. Outside, she tried to draw in a deep breath, but found her body starting to seize. Everything got too much. Shaky limbs and sweaty palms found themselves crashing onto the forest floor. She tried to breathe in again but only managed half a breath. Her heart was beating out of her chest. The world began to spin.

“Ay, ay, you alright, cher. Come ‘ere. Let’s settle on down now, ya.” Thick arms encompassed her. They grounded her back to reality. As Remy kept whispering soothing words, she felt her world come back into focus. Her heart slowed down and was now moving at a steady rhythm. She was following Remy’s lead on her breaths; in through the nose for four, hold for four, out for four. Her arms and legs were soothing themselves out and she was able to wipe off her palms onto the legs of her suit.

“Dat’s a good girl, now. Ain’t no reason to be like dat. Just a little frightenin’ is all. Didn’ mean to.” He was apologizing for scaring her? After she had thrown him to the ground and walked out on everyone? Those arms felt so familiar and comforting; she did not want to move rom them. But she had to face this man. She had to know. Turning, her eyes finally came up close and personal with the man that had introduced himself as Gambit, Remy LeBeau.

“You good now, cher? Feelin’ a little bettah?” Even after all of this, he was still so caring.

“Yeah. How are you alive?” She whispered, tracing her eyes over every inch of his face like this was the last time she was going to see it. Because it just might.

“I been wonderin’ da same thing. Don’t know how long I been in dis here Void, but you was gone long before I got here.” One of his hands came up and pet her head so very softly.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?” Her attempt at a joke made the Cajun chuckle as well. Sure, both of their laughs were tinged with sadness, but they were laughing together again.

“Well, I uh-” he stammered, trying to find the right words, “was out playin’ cards. Got a feelin’ dat somethin’ was wrong. Went back to the apartment we was stayin’ in. And you… you were gone when I got there. Tracked down who had killed ya, and it turned out to be my ol’ thievin’ ring. Didn’ like da fact dat we was ‘bout to get outta da game apparently. Da hardest thing Remy ever done was buryin’ you. Easiest was killin’ da sons o’ bitches dat took you from me.”

Silence enveloped them as the weight of his words sunk in.

“Something very similar happened in my timeline.” She replied, watching as he seemed to going through the same emotions she was.

“We were on our way back from a mission for Xavier. You and I were with Jean, Scott, and Storm. God, she was making so many jokes about how she was the fifth wheel on that mission and we were making it worse for her. Anyways, we got ambushed by the Brotherhood. We were actually taking out a good chunk of them, but Sabertooth got the drop on you. You bled out in my arms on the way back to the mansion. You had me promise not to do anything rash in the aftermath, but it was difficult.”

Tears welled in both of their eyes. Both of them mourning a love and life lost in tragic fashion. Remy pulled her in close, and she breathed in deeply. That familiar leather and musk scent blended with the fresh air outside. She just wanted that scent bottled up and kept with her at all times.

“So it seems to ol’ Gambit dat we both lost our other half. Maybe you was supposed to be the one that completed my deck, cher.” Her head raised and her eyebrow as she turned to look at the man in confusion.

“You’ve got an incomplete deck,” came her question. She began feeling around for a pocket in her jacket that was directly over her heart.

“Jus’ missin’ one card. Whatchu lookin’ for?” He questioned, letting her move around freely.

“Get your deck out,” his eyebrows raised. “Your card deck, Gambit. Humor me.”

“Whatevea you say, cher.”

The duo shifted until their respective items were grabbed. Remy produced a deck of cards and quickly rearranged them to be in card order. Her card was in between her first two fingers. As Gambit sifted through his deck, he stopped right where a card was missing. And as she revealed what was in her hands, the two suddenly looked at each other with love and tears. Her ace of hearts was missing from his deck, but he had finally found it again. It was a different time, different place, even a different person, but it was the same love that spanned the multiverse.

#rebelliousstories #writing #xmen imagine #x men 97 #x men comics #x men #remy lebeau imagine #remy lebeau x reader #remy lebeau #gambit x reader #gambit imagine #gambit #channing tatum #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool #wolverine

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sun-snatcher · 20 days

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I’m JUST saying. The resistance in the Void had Gambit, the Human Torch, and Quicksilver all under one roof at a point in time.

That’s Channing Tatum, Chris Evans, and (as per my own personal headcanon) Aaron-Taylor Johnson.

So. Yeah. Thoughts being thunked, indeed.

#when will i write this. who knows. might keep it for myself.#suddenly i am okay being stuck in the Void #all three. at ONCE #cough cough damn who said that haha…#gambit #deadpool & wolverine #remy lebeau #human torch #johnny storm #quicksilver #pietro maximoff #channing tatum #chris evans #aaron taylor johnson #deadpool #deadpool 3 #xmen #👾 ; marvel #🪷 ; wish.txt

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queenxxxsupreme · 2 months

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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.”

#Remy Lebeau x reader #Remy Lebeau fic #Remy Lebeau fluff #Remy Lebeau #the gambit #gambit #gambit x reader #Channing Tatum #queenxxxsupreme

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theyluvlyss · 2 months

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age gap😃? NOTHING CRAZY, CHILL, but yk, like,,, just a little young thing in her 20s or sumn being scooped up by one (or two🤭) of these older, more mature, aged like fine wine, and experienced men,,, that's all🥰.

I am thirsting so hard for remy after watching the movie… with this I can just imagine a young yet powerful mutant coming to the void and she never got the experience in sex in her timeline. So remy takes it upon himself to teach her the ways of the bedroom… first time may have involved a mistake with her powers when she cums for the first time but he’s so understandable and says like “you need to practice your control mon cherie” so he just dives back in for more (he makes her cum like 5-7 times from head alone cause he makes his woman feel amazing I bet) this is so long sorry hope you like this 😅🩷

𝐇𝐅𝐉𝐒𝐊𝐂𝐈𝐉𝐆𝐊𝐆𝐏𝐋𝐆𝐈𝐄𝐊𝐆𝐎𝐄𝐈𝐈𝐅𝐊𝐖𝐋𝐄𝐉𝐆 !!!!!

first of all,,, never apologize for length, especially to me who makes everything way longer than need be, we (I, it's just me, idk who "we" is lol) love and appreciate that shit over here. ppl who love absurdly long fics, requests, and other media unite✊🏽 !!!

second of all,,, *ugly sobbing* I'm always the writer and never (how does one actually say this properly🤔?) the writee, so for someone to have actually dropped this for me in my inbox is SO flattering and sweet and ughghfhf, you guys, I HIGHLY encourage more of this, I love it, I truly do.

third of all,,, THIS IS SO GOOD omg literally giggling and kicking my feet (I do that a lot on this app) !!! I am the same way, I saw gambit and just... idk what happened to me, something in my organic chemistry just altered forever and while I'm not and will probably never be a channing tatum girly, he did his goddamn JOB in that role, ATE IT TF UP👏🏽 (and I knew he would, it's about damn time like c'mon, he'd been promised the role for idk a decade or so like, again I say, about damn time) so while I might not be all over tatum, I am all over his portrayal of remy lebeau and I need more fics/content NEOOOWW😾 (plz😽) from y'all's little writer brains of yours.

anyways, onto what you've sent in specifically lmao, you said "young yet powerful mutant" and "mistake with her powers" and "...practice your control..." and for whatever reason, my brain conjured up a mutant reader with wings or just a power that involves maybe floating/telekinesis...😃✋🏽hear me out...

so, remy's getting busy, right, and he's making reader feel so good and, like you mentioned, she ain't got much control over her powers yet cuz she's younger than him, so she cvms and boom, her wings (whether they be feathered or fairy) just pop out without her realizing😻. or with telekinesis, the better she's feeling/closer she's getting, the more stuff/higher she's causing things around them to float because again, little and/or loss of control because he's making her feel that good (we all know he's got the tongue work of a god, I mean, just listen to the man speak for fuck's sake lmao🥴).

I think it'd definitely be a cute touch and fs something she'd get teased about from remy lmao.

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scintie · 19 days

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a spark of black

Pairing: Gambit/Remy LeBeau x female reader. Summary: Ever since you appeared at the resistance hideout along with Wade and Logan, tension between you and a certain Cajun card slinger has been steadily growing. One fateful night you finally get the chance to relieve some of it. Tags: smut (male receiving), blowjob, mild dominant undertones. Notes: be gentle, this is the first piece of writing that I've uploaded in yeeeeears. :')

You watched Remy’s mouth move, his lips forming words that you just couldn’t decipher. He was obviously speaking to you, it was just the two of you sat in the main room of the hideout.

Earlier in the evening everyone had been gathered, sharing stories and drinks. The others had all turned in for the night an hour or so ago, leaving you and the Cajun to continue on without them. Wade had made his exit by saying something predictably crude about not being too loud while fucking each others brains out. Remy had waved him off while you did nothing but blush.

The past hour had been torture. Listening to Remy's smooth, deep voice talk about their recent escapades in the Void had driven you crazy with desire. You'd developed a stupid crush on him as soon as you'd arrived. Who wouldn't though right? With his tall, broad stature and handsome face, he'd be hard for anyone to resist. But as the days had passed things went from bad to worse and your stupid crush deepened into a genuine desire.

That's why the blood was thumping so loud in your ears that you couldn’t understand him.

“Wh-what? Sorry, I er, I didn’t quite catch that.” You stammered, feeling your cheeks grow hotter by the second. You dreaded to think how flustered you looked to him right now. Like a deer in the headlights of a truck. A big, sexy truck wearing a brown leather coat.

“Oh, tu es mignon,” Remy chuckled under his breath. He rose from his chair and stepped a little closer, as if the distance between the two of you was the issue. “Remy see da way you been lookin’ at him cher, when ya' think he no be noticin’, ah?”

You were speechless. You didn't know how to react to his bluntness. How were you supposed to react to that?

Remy smirked and closed the gap between you completely and leaned over you, placing his hands on the back of your chair, one either side of your head. He was so close, you could barely breathe.

"You wan' me? All a pretty lil' thing like you would hav' to do is ask, ma douce." He kept his voice low, not wanting to alert the others.

Your mind raced, thoughts bouncing around for what felt like an eternity before at last, you nodded your head. You didn't even realise you were doing it but you weren't about to argue against it either.

"Atta girl, une si bonne fille." Remy praised, standing up straight. His hands went to the fastenings of his pants, all the while maintaining eye contact with you. "Ya trust Remy, don'cha cher?" He asked, slowly pushing his pants and underwear down off of his hips.

Your gaze left his then, moving down his otherwise fully clothed body until you were greeted with the sight of his half hard cock slipping from it's confines. Your eyes went wide. He was certainly much bigger than anyone you'd ever been with before.

You realised Remy was still watching you, slowly stroking himself now, waiting for an answer. You didn't know where to look, it was hard to tear your eyes away from the sight of his cock swelling to it's full, impressive size.

Finally, you found your words, "Y-yeah, I trust you."

"Perfect." Remy smirked and took up his position right in front of you, his hands on the back of the chair again. You gulped, head swimming with anticipation. "Then open up dat pretty mouth for me."

You drew in a long breath before slowly parting your lips, wider and wider until he nodded his approval. Remy seemed to realise that he had forgotten something, taking your hands from your lap and guiding them to his bare thighs. "Da's for yer own peace of mind, don' wan' you thinkin' you gon' fall."

You braced your hands on his muscular legs and soon realised why as he pulled on the back of your chair, slowly tilting you forward. The movement causing your mouth to lower onto his cock. It was definitely a different experience to anything you were used to, he had almost complete control over your movement.

Remy moaned quietly, taking in the tantalisingly debauched sight of your luscious lips wrapped around him. He took in every detail and sensation, observing you as if you were creating a beautiful piece of artwork right in front of him.

You looked up at him with hooded eyes, slowly working your tongue around him with what little space you had left to use.

Remy moaned again, deeper this time before just as slowly tipping the chair back down, his cock sliding almost all of the way out of your mouth.

"Y'okay, cher?" He asked, his chest rising and falling quickly. You could tell he was holding himself back a little, but he needed to make sure you were still on board with this.

You nodded slowly, running your hands slowly up and down his thighs, squeezing the muscles lying taught beneath his smooth skin.

Remy nodded back and steadied his stance. He moved the chair forward and backward again in quicker succession this time, watching your face for any sign of discomfort. He relaxed when all he saw was lust and wanton desire on your features.

You kept your hands braced on his legs, giving yourself a firm and steady anchor point to rely on. You moaned around his dick as he moved you again, a little deeper this time but still manageable.

He gradually built up a good rhythm. Not fast enough to be overwhelming for you but definitely enough to have him moaning freely, loving the soft warmth of your mouth as he moved you back and forth.

"Dat hot lil' mouth feelin' so good on me, cher." He whispered huskily, just loud enough for you to hear. You still had to be quiet, you couldn't imagine how mortifying it would be if one of the others walked in on you two right now.

Remy's words of encouragement shot a tingle through your body that ended up right between your legs. You pressed your thighs together hard and whimpered, tears prickling your eyes as your arousal started to get the better of you.

Remy noticed the change in your demeanour and slowly lowered the chair completely back down to the floor, his cock slipping free from your mouth for the first time since he'd started. A mixture of saliva and precum followed after him, coating your lips and chin.

You loved how completely blissed out you were feeling, high on the endorphins and serotonin surging through your body. Without really thinking about it you slid from the chair and onto your knees between Remy's feet. You were going on instinct, being driven by the almighty lust that you felt for this man.

"Y'kay down dere, angel?" Remy enquired, cocking an eyebrow and sliding a reassuring hand onto your shoulder as he watched you with intrigue.

You nodded slowly, grazing your teeth over your bottom lip. "Uhuh, just wanna make you come that's all..." Your words came out so soft and breathy that it was his turn to barely hear you, but he soon got the idea when you reached up and started to stroke him back to full hardness.

He moaned just a little louder than he'd liked to, caught a little off guard by the sudden sensation of your soft hands. "Well cher, Remy ain't gon' be arguin' widdat." He chuckled when he'd regained composure, jutting his hips forward for you. As soon as he was rigid again you wasted no time in taking his cock back into your mouth. You set a relatively fast pace, bobbing your head quickly, taking as much as would while working him with your tongue. Your hands went to his hips, pulling him forward and back gently in time with your bobbing. "Merde..." He hissed, looking down at you as he snaked his hand into the hair at the back of your head. "Jus' like dat, belle. Remy be comin' in no time if you be doin' dat..."

Spurred on by his words you forced yourself to take him just a little deeper, feeling him throb against your tongue in response, followed by the salty taste of precum.

You moaned softly as Remy's fingers tightened in your hair, gripping the strands at the very root. His hips stuttered a little, a tell tale sign that he getting close.

One of your hands left his hip and made it's way between his legs to massage his balls, lifting them with your palm and rolling them in their sack slowly.

The sound that came out of the Cajun's mouth was like music to your ears. Along guttural moan peppered with some indistinguishable French curse words. Apparently he didn't seem to care if anyone heard anymore.

A couple more minutes went by of you greedily sucking him and playing with his balls before Remy suddenly pulled back, his cock popping from your mouth wetly.

He wrapped his hand around his dick as he quickly guided you to sit back in the discarded chair from earlier. You complied, scrabbling up onto the wooden seat.

Remy stood over you, straddling your legs a she began jerking himself off quickly. "M' gonna come all over dat pretty face, cher... ya' ready?"

You nodded, heat rushing to your cheeks in anticipation. His hand made it's way to the back of your head again, holding you in place as he chased his orgasm.

The visual of such a devastatingly gorgeous man masturbating over you was intoxicating, it made your head spin just watching him. An odd swell of pride hit you as you noticed your saliva still coating his cock as he stroked himself, sliding his length between the makeshift sheath of his palm and thick fingers.

"Beg me, cher. Beg Remy for his cum." He panted.

You could tell he was right there, right on the precipice, he just needed to hear you.

"Please Remy, fuck... please cum all over me..." You whined, your breathing almost as shallow as his by now.

That did the trick. Almost as soon as the last words left passed your lips Remy let out a long, loud moan as his cock started to twitch. He pulled you closer just as thick, white ropes of cum started to shoot from his slit.

You opened your mouth just in time as you felt some of the hot, salty fluid paint your tongue. The rest splashed across your face in haphazard directions, marking you as his. Remy's fist slowed and his breathing steadied as the pleasure subsided. It was at that moment that you locked eyes with him. It was then that he fully saw the mess he'd made of you. The sight of you covered in his seed seemed to stun him for a small moment before his trademark cockiness returned.

"Lookin' good dere, beautiful. Dat look really suit you, ah?" He quipped, winking as he turned to find a washcloth.

You took it from him with a shy smile, your hormone fuelled confidence ebbing away slightly in the aftermath. But you smiled to yourself as you wiped your face clean because you had a feeling that he was right. It did suit you.

#lmao i had no idea how to end this #tumblr is being a dick to me right now so i hope there's not too many mistakes #and that it's not an incoherent mess #i'll read it again later and correct if need be #gambit x reader #gambit x you #remy lebeau x reader #remy lebeau x you #gambit smut #deadpool & wolverine #kat writes when the stars are aligned #remy lebeau #gambit

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thirtysomethingloser92 · 20 days

Text

Voided

You don’t even remember how this infatuation with Remy LeBeau started, if you’re being honest with yourself. It’s like a slow burn that sneaked up on you—a flame that steadily grew until you could no longer ignore its warmth. Maybe it was bound to happen, living in a wasteland where hope was a scarce commodity, and comfort even rarer. When you’re stuck in a place made for misfits and people who don’t belong anywhere else, you start clinging to whatever fragments of humanity you can find. And Remy, with his charm and his secrets, was one of those fragments.

The days in the wasteland stretched on endlessly, a relentless cycle of survival. You’d leave the makeshift home you’d found with the others, setting out with Remy to scavenge for supplies, to find something—anything—that would make life a little more bearable. Those days were brutal, the kind that wore down your spirit until you felt like there was nothing left but the dust in your lungs and the ache in your bones. But it was in those long, drawn-out hours where the sun seemed to hang forever in a dead sky that you started to see Remy differently.

At first, it was the little things. The way he always seemed to know when to crack a joke, pulling you out of whatever dark thoughts had taken hold. The way he’d notice when you were tired, and without a word, offer to carry the heavier pack or suggest taking a break. It was the way he listened—really listened—when you talked. And you did talk. You talked because the silence was unbearable, a yawning void that threatened to swallow you whole if you let it. If you were left alone with the silence, then you would begin to think. And once you started thinking you weren’t sure if you were able to dig yourself out of where it would lead you.

The silence was your enemy in those moments. It wasn’t just the absence of sound; it was the absence of everything that made you feel alive. It was a reminder of all the things that had been ripped away from you, all the things you couldn’t afford to dwell on for too long. The silence made the wasteland feel even more desolate, more hopeless. It was a void that echoed with your own fears, your own loneliness. So you filled it with words—endless streams of conversation that helped you keep the darkness at bay.

You’d talk about anything and everything, just to keep the silence at arm’s length. Sometimes you’d ramble about the past, about the world before it all went to hell. Other times, you’d speculate about the future, about what might be waiting for you if you ever made it out of this nightmare. And Remy would listen, his red-on-black eyes watching you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t judge. He just let you speak, as if your words were the only thing keeping the world from crumbling around you.

Blade had made comments about your constant talking. He’d tease you about it, saying you could fill a library with the stories you told. But even he would admit that when you weren’t there, the world seemed too loud, too empty. Without your voice to fill the gaps, the silence became oppressive, a weight that pressed down on all of you. In a way, your words were a lifeline, a thread that kept the group tethered to some semblance of normalcy.

But it was different with Remy. With him, your words felt less like a defense mechanism and more like a connection—a fragile, tentative connection that you were scared to acknowledge, let alone embrace. Because acknowledging it meant admitting that you were vulnerable, that you cared more than you should in a place like this. And caring was dangerous. Caring was a weakness you couldn’t afford. But as much as you tried to push those feelings down, they kept bubbling up, impossible to ignore. You were scared of the ‘what ifs’. The ‘what ifs’ are what got you pruned to the void to begin with.

At first, it was just the small things—how his voice carried a hint of warmth, even on the coldest of nights when the wind cut through your layers like a knife. It was the way he always seemed to know exactly when to crack a joke, the kind that could slice through the oppressive atmosphere that clung to your group like a shroud. His humor was a balm, a brief escape from the grim reality that surrounded you. And then there were those crimson eyes, always watching, always knowing, like he could see right through you. It was as if those eyes peeled back every layer you’d so carefully built, stripping you down to your raw, exposed soul.

And it scared the shit out of you.

You weren’t used to being seen like that, to being understood with just a glance. You had always been the one to deflect, to joke, to talk and talk until there was nothing left to say. Words had always been your armor, your way of creating distance between yourself and the world outside. But Remy didn’t need words. He didn’t need the noise. He was content to exist in the spaces between, in the quiet moments that seemed to stretch out forever when it was just the two of you. Those moments were where he thrived, where he seemed to understand you in ways you didn’t even understand yourself. There were moments when you’d catch yourself staring at him, wondering what it would be like if things were different. If the world hadn’t fallen apart, if you were just two people getting to know each other under normal circumstances. You’d wonder if he ever thought about you the way you thought about him, if he noticed the way your breath hitched when he stood too close, or the way your heart raced whenever he smiled that mischievous grin of his.

But then the reality of it all would crash back down on you, reminding you that this was no place for fantasies or daydreams. This was a place where every day was a fight for survival, where attachments could get you killed. And so you’d bury those feelings deep, hiding them behind the endless stream of words that spilled from your lips, hoping that maybe, one day, you’d find the courage to let them out.

But Remy, he never complained. Not once. It didn’t seem to matter how much you rambled, how often you let your thoughts spill out in a desperate attempt to drown out the crushing weight of the world. He’d just flash that trademark grin of his, the one that could disarm even the most guarded heart, and let you keep going. That grin—God, that grin—was like a lifeline, pulling you back from the edge every time the darkness threatened to close in. It was a smile that promised safety, even when safety was nothing more than a fleeting illusion in this desolate place.

Sometimes, in the middle of your rambling, he’d throw in a sly comment, something quick and clever that would catch you off guard and make you laugh—a real laugh, the kind that felt foreign and strange in your throat, almost like you’d forgotten how. And for a moment, just a brief, precious moment, the heaviness of the world would lift, and you’d feel lighter than you had in months. It was like he had this uncanny ability to find the one shred of joy left in the rubble of your life and hand it to you, wrapped in a bow of charm and wit.

Other times, he wouldn’t say much at all. He’d just listen, his red-on-black eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. Those eyes—they were so different, so otherworldly, yet there was something in them that was deeply human. Something that flickered and glimmered in the dim light, something you couldn’t quite name but felt drawn to like a moth to a flame. When he looked at you like that, it was as if he could see straight through the walls you’d built around yourself, straight to the parts of you that you tried so hard to keep hidden.

On those days, when the air was thick with the scent of dust and decay, it was easy to forget where you were, easy to imagine that you were somewhere else—somewhere safe, somewhere normal. You’d walk side by side, your shoulders occasionally brushing, and it felt more like a partnership than a necessity. There was something about those moments that made the world seem a little less broken, like maybe, just maybe, there was still something worth holding onto.

But deep down, you knew better. You knew this world didn’t allow for things like normalcy or comfort, not really. It was a world built on the bones of the past, where survival was the only currency that mattered, and hope was a dangerous thing to carry. And yet, despite all of that, there was something about Remy that made you want to believe, even if only for a fleeting moment, that things could be different. That maybe, just maybe, the two of you could carve out a small piece of happiness in the midst of all this chaos—a tiny oasis in a desert of despair.

But then, inevitably, the silence would creep back in, like an unwelcome guest that refused to leave. It would settle over you like a heavy blanket, suffocating and cold, and you’d feel the reality of your situation pressing down on you from all sides. The silence wasn’t just empty; it was a void, a gaping maw that threatened to swallow you whole if you let it. It was a reminder of all the things you’d lost, all the things you couldn’t afford to think about for too long—the people who were gone, the life you’d never get back, the future that had been stolen from you.

So you’d talk—about anything, everything—because the alternative was too unbearable to consider. You’d fill the air with words, with stories and questions and idle musings, anything to keep the silence at bay. And Remy would let you, because he seemed to understand, in a way that no one else did, that the silence wasn’t something you could face alone. He’d let you talk until your voice was hoarse and your mind was too tired to think, and then he’d flash that grin of his again, that infuriatingly charming grin, and you’d realize that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as alone as you thought.

In those moments, when the silence was held at bay by the sound of your own voice and the steady presence of the man beside you, you almost believed that you could survive this. That there was something more to fight for than just survival. That maybe, in the ruins of this shattered world, you could find something resembling happiness. And as long as Remy kept flashing that grin, as long as he kept listening, you’d keep talking, because talking was the only way you knew how to keep the darkness at bay. <><><><><><><>

It was on one of those long supply runs that it happened. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the barren landscape, turning the world into a canvas of deep reds and purples. The two of you had wandered further than usual, driven by the desperate need to find anything that could keep your ragtag group going for just one more day. You had been talking—filling the space with your usual chatter, anything to keep the silence at bay. But then, in your distraction, you stumbled over a loose rock, and before you could even register what was happening, his hand shot out, steadying you with a firm, yet gentle grip.

You looked up at him, a laugh already bubbling to your lips, ready to make some offhand comment about how clumsy you were, how you’d trip over your own shadow if given the chance. But the words died in your throat the moment you met his eyes. There was something in his gaze, something that made your breath catch in your chest. It wasn’t just concern or the usual teasing glint you’d come to expect. No, this was different.

In that moment, it was as though the world had shrunk down to just the two of you. The distant sounds of the wasteland faded away, the colors of the dying sun dimmed, leaving only the intensity of his gaze, locking you in place. There was something in his eyes, something deep and unspoken, that made you feel like he was seeing you for the first time—really seeing you. And it left you feeling exposed in a way you weren’t prepared for, like every defense you’d ever put up had been stripped away in an instant.

You could feel the sudden closeness between you, the warmth of his hand still on your arm, grounding you in a way that was both comforting and terrifying. Time seemed to stretch, each second drawing out as you stood there, caught in the weight of the moment. You could see the flicker of something in his eyes, a vulnerability that mirrored your own, and it shook you to your core.

For what felt like an eternity, neither of you moved. You were too afraid that if you did, the spell would break, and the moment would shatter into a million pieces. You wanted to say something, anything, but your mind was blank, every word you knew suddenly feeling inadequate. All you could do was stare up at him, your heart pounding in your chest, as if it were trying to break free from the cage of your ribs.

And then, finally, Remy broke the silence, his voice low and rough, like he was struggling to find the right words. “Cher,” he murmured, the endearment slipping from his lips like a secret he hadn’t meant to share. You felt it like a physical touch, soft and warm, wrapping around your heart. “Y’alright?”

It wasn’t the words that got to you, but the way he said them. It was as if he was asking more than just whether you were physically okay. He was asking if you were okay in a way that went deeper, in a way that touched on everything you’d been holding back, everything you’d been too afraid to admit, even to yourself.

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice, but when you finally spoke, it came out as little more than a whisper. “Yeah… I’m fine.”

But you weren’t fine. Not really. And you knew he could see it.

The tension between you was palpable, a live wire crackling with unspoken emotions. His hand lingered on your arm for a moment longer, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. And then, just as suddenly as it had happened, he let go, stepping back to give you space. The loss of his touch was almost painful, a cold emptiness settling in where his warmth had been.

You both stood there, awkward and unsure, the weight of what had just passed between you hanging in the air like a storm cloud. Neither of you knew what to say, how to acknowledge what had just happened without breaking whatever fragile thing had begun to take shape between you.

Finally, Remy cleared his throat, his usual grin returning, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Better watch your step, cher,” he said lightly, trying to ease the tension with humor. “Can’t have you fallin’ all over the place now, can we?”

You forced a smile, nodding as you tried to push down the swirling emotions threatening to overwhelm you. “Yeah, wouldn’t want to give you any more work,” you replied, your voice too bright, too forced. The moment passed, but it left a scar, an invisible line drawn in the sand between what was and what could be. As you both continued walking, the quiet settling in around you, it was impossible to ignore the shift in the air, the way your thoughts kept circling back to the feel of his hand on your arm, the intensity in his gaze. You replayed it in your mind, over and over, trying to decipher the meaning behind it, trying to understand what it was that had passed between you in that brief second when the world had seemed to stop.

You tried to pretend like nothing had changed, like you could just go back to the way things were before. But the truth was, it had changed. The dynamic between you and Remy had shifted, and there was no going back to the comfortable rhythm you’d shared before. There was a tension now, a charged current that hummed between you, making every glance, every accidental touch, feel like a spark that could ignite something neither of you were ready to acknowledge.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky bleeding into a deep, bruised purple, you found yourself hyper-aware of every movement, every breath. The usual banter that flowed so easily between you felt stilted, forced, like you were both trying too hard to pretend there hadn’t been a crack in the armor you’d both so carefully constructed.

You couldn’t help but steal glances at him out of the corner of your eye, searching for any sign that he felt it too—that same nervous energy buzzing under your skin, the same questions spinning through your mind. But Remy was as hard to read as ever, his expression carefully neutral, betraying nothing of the storm that might be raging beneath the surface.

When he did catch your gaze, just for a moment, there was something there—something fleeting, like a shadow passing over his features before it was gone, replaced by that easy, familiar grin you’d come to rely on. It was almost as if he was waiting for you to make the first move, to say something, to break the silence that had settled between you like a fragile truce.

But you didn’t. You couldn’t. The words caught in your throat, tangled in fear and uncertainty. What if you were wrong? What if you’d misread everything, and all you’d end up doing was shattering whatever fragile thing had begun to grow between you? The thought of losing him, of losing the one bright spot in the darkness you lived in, was enough to keep you silent, to keep you from taking that leap.

So instead, you both just kept walking, the distance between you both physical and emotional, growing with every step. The temperature dropped as night fully claimed the sky, the cold seeping into your bones, but it wasn’t the chill that made you shiver. It was the weight of the unspoken, the words you were too afraid to say, the feelings you were too scared to admit, even to yourself.

The landscape around you was a wasteland of crumbling buildings and twisted metal, a graveyard of what had once been, but as you walked beside Remy, it was hard not to feel like you were in a different kind of wasteland, one of your own making. A barren place where fear and doubt had taken root, choking out the possibility of anything more.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Remy broke the silence. “We should head back,” he said, his voice low, almost hesitant. “Ain’t nothin’ out here worth gettin’ caught in the dark for.” There was a note in his voice, something that hinted at more than just the physical darkness that surrounded you. It was as if he was acknowledging the darkness that had crept into the space between you, the unspoken tension that neither of you seemed willing to confront.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, afraid that if you did, your voice would betray everything you were trying so hard to keep hidden. You turned, retracing your steps back toward the makeshift home you’d made with the others, the silence between you now thicker, more oppressive than before.

The walk back was quiet, the only sounds the crunch of your boots against the gravel and the distant, eerie howls of the wind as it whipped through the ruins around you. You kept your eyes trained on the ground, focusing on each step, trying to keep your thoughts from spiraling out of control. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop the questions from gnawing at you.

What if you were missing something? What if this was your chance, your one chance, to reach out, to grab hold of the one thing that made this world bearable? The thought of letting it slip through your fingers was almost unbearable, but the fear of what could happen if you took that step, if you laid yourself bare, was paralyzing.

By the time you reached the edge of your makeshift camp, the others were already gathered around the fire, their faces illuminated by the flickering flames. You could see the weariness etched into their features, the toll this life had taken on all of you, but there was also something else—a flicker of hope, a sense of camaraderie that had kept you all going, even in the darkest of times.

Remy hung back as you approached the group, his presence a steady, comforting weight at your side. But even as you sat down by the fire, feeling the warmth seep into your chilled skin, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had been left unfinished, something vital that you couldn’t afford to ignore much longer.

As the conversation around the fire picked up, the usual banter and stories filling the air, you found yourself stealing glances at Remy, who had taken a seat across from you, his eyes focused on the fire, the flames reflecting in his crimson irises. There was a sadness there, a weariness that you hadn’t noticed before, and it made your heart ache.

You wondered what he was thinking, if he was as lost in his thoughts as you were, if he was wrestling with the same questions, the same fears. You wanted to reach out, to say something, anything, that would bridge the gap between you, but the words still wouldn’t come. So, instead, you just sat there, the fire crackling between you, the silence heavy with everything you were too afraid to say.

The night dragged on, the others eventually drifting off to their makeshift beds, until it was just you and Remy left by the dying embers of the fire. The darkness pressed in around you, the only light coming from the faint glow of the coals, casting long shadows that danced across the ground.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Remy spoke, his voice quiet, almost hesitant. “Y’ ever think about what it’d be like… if things were different?”

The question hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. He wasn’t just talking about the world, you realized. He was talking about you, about the two of you.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to find the right words, the courage to answer him honestly. “All the time,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But it doesn’t change anything, does it?”

Remy looked at you then, really looked at you, and for a moment, the mask he wore slipped, revealing the vulnerability beneath. “Maybe not,” he said softly, his eyes locking onto yours, “but it don’t mean we can’t try to make somethin’ outta what we got.”

It was a simple statement, but it hit you like a punch to the gut, knocking the air out of your lungs. Because he was right. The world was broken, shattered beyond repair, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t try to find some piece of happiness, some small corner of peace, in the midst of it all.

You looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to see what had been there all along—the way he cared, the way he watched out for you, the way he listened when no one else did. And in that moment, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to face this world alone.

Taking a deep breath, you reached out, your hand trembling slightly, and placed it on top of his. The contact sent a jolt through you, but it was grounding, reassuring, and you felt something inside you shift, something that had been locked away for too long.

“Maybe we can,” you said, your voice steady now, filled with a quiet determination. “Maybe we can make something good out of all this.”

Remy’s hand tightened around yours, his thumb brushing softly against your skin, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a glimmer of hope, a tiny spark in the darkness.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

#Remy Lebeau x reader #Gambit x reader #Remy Lebeau #Gambit #Fanfiction #Reader Insert #marvel #deadpool & wolverine #Deadpool 3 #Writing #Ao3

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