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urdreamydoodles · 3 days

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X-Men x Reader (Part.2)

You die in their arms (Part.2)

In the heat of battle, you succumbs to fatal injuries in the arms of your partner. Each X-Men, torn apart by grief, reacts to the devastating loss, facing the crushing reality that their greatest power cannot bring back the person they love most.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Ororo Munroe, Rogue & Erik Lehnsherr

Logan Howlett

The battlefield was chaos. Explosions, gunfire, and the sound of metal clashing filled the air, but none of it mattered to Logan as he ran toward you. His enhanced senses had caught the scent of your blood, and his heart had clenched in a way that it never had before. He had seen you fall, your body crumpling under the impact of an enemy’s blow, and now every instinct screamed at him to get to you, to protect you.

When he reached your side, his breath hitched. Blood was seeping from a wound in your chest, staining the ground beneath you. Your eyes were open, barely, and you smiled weakly as you saw him. "Logan..." you whispered, your voice barely a rasp above the noise around you.

Logan dropped to his knees, his hands hovering over your body as if afraid to touch you, to hurt you further. His jaw clenched, and he growled low in his throat, fighting back the overwhelming panic that threatened to take hold. "Don’t talk, darlin'," he ordered, though his voice was gruff with emotion. "I’m gonna get you outta here, alright? You’re gonna be fine."

You shook your head, your breathing labored as pain surged through your body. "Logan... I’m not..." You coughed, blood splattering from your lips as your strength faded. "I can’t..."

Logan’s eyes flared with anger and desperation. "Don’t you dare talk like that!" he snapped, though his voice cracked with grief. His hands finally found your face, his rough fingers cradling your cheeks as he leaned over you. "You’re tougher than this. You’ve survived worse."

You tried to smile, but it was weak, your strength ebbing away with every passing second. "Not this time," you whispered, your hand weakly reaching up to rest on his arm. "I love you... Logan..."

Logan's breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, the battlefield disappeared. It was just the two of you, alone in this moment, and the weight of your words hit him like a punch to the gut. "I love you too," he growled, his voice barely above a whisper. "More than you know."

Your eyes fluttered shut, and your hand fell limply to the ground. Logan's heart shattered as he felt your pulse fade beneath his fingertips. He let out a broken, guttural roar, pulling your body close to his chest. His claws unsheathed instinctively, the rage and pain surging through him in a violent wave.

But no amount of violence could bring you back.

For the first time in years, Wolverine felt utterly helpless.

Remy LeBeau

The battle had been brutal, the air thick with the scent of smoke, gunpowder, and blood. Remy had always thrived in the chaos of combat, but today was different. He had been fighting with one eye on the battlefield and the other on you, making sure you were safe.

But the moment he saw you fall, his heart stopped.

Remy sprinted toward you, his heart pounding in his chest as fear took hold. When he reached you, his world narrowed to the sight of you lying on the ground, your body broken, blood pooling around you. "Non, non, non," he muttered under his breath, his Cajun accent thick with panic as he dropped to his knees beside you. His usually nimble fingers shook as he touched your face, brushing your hair back from your sweat-streaked forehead.

"Chérie, I’m here," he whispered, his voice trembling as he tried to hold it together. "Stay wit' me, d'accord? You ain’t leavin' me like dis."

You opened your eyes weakly, a sad smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Remy..." you whispered, your voice so faint he had to lean in closer to hear you. "I... I can’t..."

Remy shook his head, his hands pressing against your wound in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. "Non, you’re gon' be alright," he insisted, his voice breaking as tears filled his eyes. "Remy gon' fix dis, I promise. You jus' gotta hold on."

You looked up at him, your vision blurring as the pain became too much. "I love you," you whispered, your voice barely audible now.

The words hit him like a ton of bricks, and his heart clenched in his chest. "I love you too, mon amour," he choked out, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Please, don’t go... I can’t do dis without you."

But your body was already going cold, and as your last breath left your lips, Remy’s world crumbled. He let out a ragged sob, pulling you into his arms, your blood staining his coat. The energy that always crackled at his fingertips fizzled out as grief consumed him.

The playful charm that Remy LeBeau was known for was gone, replaced by the hollow, crushing pain of losing the love of his life.

Kurt Wagner

The night sky above the battlefield was dark, but the flashes of light and explosions illuminated the destruction around you. Kurt had always been quick, teleporting in and out of danger, but even his agility couldn't save you from the blast that had hit you. The pain in your chest was unbearable as you crumpled to the ground, gasping for air.

Before you could register the pain fully, the familiar sound of Kurt's "bamf" echoed, and he was beside you in an instant. His golden eyes widened in horror as he saw you lying there, blood pouring from your wound.

"Y/N, mein Gott!" His voice cracked as he knelt beside you, his blue fingers trembling as they hovered over your wound. You had always loved the gentleness of his touch, but now those same hands felt helpless.

You tried to speak, but your voice came out as a rasp. "Kurt..."

He shook his head quickly, tears welling in his eyes. "Nein, don’t speak! I can take you to safety. I’ll... I’ll fix this, just hold on!" He reached out as if to teleport you away, but the pain was too great. You gasped, clutching his hand, stopping him.

“Kurt... it’s too late.”

His heart broke at your words, and he shook his head in disbelief, his tail twitching anxiously behind him. "No, no, no, it’s not too late! Please, Y/N, I cannot lose you!"

You could feel the world slipping away, the cold settling into your bones. Your hand found his cheek, brushing against the soft fur of his face. "I love you," you whispered, your voice growing weaker with every passing second.

He let out a choked sob, pressing his forehead against yours. "I love you too, more than life itself," he whispered, his tears falling onto your skin. "Please, don’t leave me."

Your heart slowed, the pain fading as the darkness crept in. The last thing you saw was Kurt’s face, his eyes filled with anguish as he held you close. You wanted to stay, to comfort him, but your body failed you.

As your heart stopped, Kurt’s grip on you tightened, a broken cry escaping his throat. He teleported away with your body, his sobs echoing in the empty space as he held you in his arms. For the first time, the darkness of the battlefield felt like a reflection of the void inside him.

Scott Summers

The battlefield was chaos, and Scott's voice rang out over the comms, directing the team with his usual authority. You had fought beside him countless times, but this battle felt different. The enemies were stronger, more relentless, and despite your best efforts, you found yourself caught in an explosion that left you broken on the ground.

Scott had seen it all from a distance, his visor hiding the horror in his eyes as he screamed your name. He ran to you, laser blasts tearing through the enemies that dared to stand in his way. When he reached you, his heart stopped at the sight of your blood-streaked form lying motionless on the ground.

"Y/N!" His voice was thick with fear as he dropped to his knees beside you, his hands shaking as they hovered over your body. He didn’t know what to do, how to fix this. He had always been the leader, the one with the answers, but in this moment, he was lost.

You looked up at him, trying to smile despite the pain that wracked your body. "Scott..." you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"Don’t talk," he ordered, his voice trembling as he tried to maintain control. "I’ll get you out of here. You’re going to be fine."

But you knew better. The cold was already creeping into your bones, and every breath was a struggle. You reached up, your hand weakly brushing against the side of his visor. "I love you," you whispered, your voice barely a breath.

Scott's composure shattered in an instant. He grabbed your hand, pressing it to his chest as tears filled his eyes, hidden behind his red-tinted visor. "I love you too," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Please, Y/N, don’t leave me. I can’t lose you."

But even as he spoke, your vision grew darker, and the world around you faded. You could feel your heart slowing, your body giving up. The last thing you saw was Scott’s face, his usually stoic expression replaced by one of utter devastation.

When your heart finally stopped, Scott let out a choked sob, his body trembling as he held you close. His visor glowed with an intensity that reflected the storm of emotions raging inside him, but he refused to take it off, knowing that if he did, the force of his grief would destroy everything around him.

He stayed with you, holding your lifeless body as the battle continued to rage around him. In that moment, nothing else mattered. You were gone, and with you, a piece of him had died too.

Ororo Munroe

The storm raged above as the battle unfolded, lightning flashing across the sky, mirroring Ororo’s inner turmoil. She had always fought with grace and precision, her connection to the elements unmatched, but today her focus was split. She kept glancing toward you, her heart tight with worry as you fought on the battlefield alongside the rest of the X-Men.

Then, in a flash of light, Ororo saw you fall.

Without hesitation, she soared through the air, the wind carrying her swiftly to your side. She landed next to you with a graceful thud, her heart pounding in her chest. “Y/N!” Her voice cracked, filled with a raw fear she rarely allowed herself to feel.

You lay on the ground, blood pooling beneath you, your breaths shallow and uneven. Your eyes flickered open as she knelt down, her hands hovering over you, unsure of where to touch without causing you more pain. “I’m here,” she whispered, her voice trembling as tears welled in her bright blue eyes. “I’m right here.”

You tried to smile but grimaced, the pain too much to hide. “Ororo... it’s bad.”

She shook her head, her white hair whipping in the wind as the storm above mirrored her growing panic. “No, it’s not. You’re going to be fine. I won’t let you leave me.”

Your fingers weakly reached up, brushing against her cheek as you gazed up at her, your expression soft despite the pain. “I love you... always have.”

Ororo’s heart clenched, her breath catching in her throat as she cupped your hand to her face. “I love you too,” she whispered, her tears falling freely now, mixing with the rain that had begun to pour. “Please don’t leave me.”

But she could feel the life slipping away from you, the spark in your eyes fading with each passing moment. Your hand fell from her cheek, and Ororo let out a heart-wrenching sob, clutching your body tightly to her chest as the storm above erupted into a frenzy of lightning and thunder.

The sky wept with her as she held you close, her heart shattering into pieces.

Rogue

Rogue fought with everything she had, her strength and agility keeping her a step ahead of the enemies on the battlefield. For so long, she had feared touching others, but now that she had full control of her powers, she fought fearlessly, knowing she could protect the ones she loved.

But when she saw you collapse in the distance, her heart stopped.

Without thinking, Rogue flew across the battlefield, her breath catching in her throat as she reached your side. “Y/N!” she cried out, dropping to her knees beside you. Her hands shook as she touched your face, her gloved fingers trembling as she saw the blood staining your clothes.

You looked up at her, your vision blurred and fading. “Rogue...” you whispered, your voice barely a rasp above the chaos surrounding you.

“Shh, don’t talk,” Rogue whispered, her voice breaking as she gathered you in her arms. “You’re gonna be okay, ya hear? I ain’t lettin’ ya go.”

You smiled weakly, your hand reaching up to touch her face. “It’s too late... I can feel it.”

“No!” Rogue’s voice cracked as she held you tighter, her heart pounding in her chest. “Don’t you dare say that. We’re gonna get through this, together. Just hang on.”

But as you coughed, blood splattering from your lips, she knew the truth. You were slipping away, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice so soft it was almost lost in the wind.

Rogue choked on a sob, tears streaming down her face as she pressed her forehead to yours. “I love you too, more than anything. Please don’t leave me.”

But as your hand slipped from her cheek and your body went limp in her arms, Rogue’s world collapsed. She let out a broken cry, pulling you close as her tears fell onto your lifeless body.

For the first time in her life, Rogue felt truly powerless.

Erik Lehnsherr

The battlefield was chaos, a cacophony of screams, explosions, and the constant hum of metal twisting under Erik’s control. His powers were unmatched, and even as the battle raged, he moved with precision, guiding every metal shard, bullet, and beam to protect those who fought beside him.

But then he saw you fall.

In an instant, everything else became irrelevant. The clamor of war faded into the background as Erik’s heart seized with terror. He flew to your side, his cape billowing out behind him, metal shards scattering as he rushed to you. When he landed beside you, his breath caught in his throat. You were lying in a pool of your own blood, your eyes barely open.

"Y/N!" Erik’s voice was more frantic than it had ever been. He knelt beside you, his gloved hands hovering over you as he tried to figure out what to do, how to help. But for all his power, for all the control he had over the world’s elements, he couldn’t fix this.

You coughed weakly, blood trickling from the corner of your mouth as you looked up at him. "Erik..." your voice was barely a whisper, but he heard it as though it were the only sound in the world.

He shook his head, his steel-blue eyes wide with fear. "No, don’t speak. I’ll take you somewhere safe. I can save you." His voice was thick with desperation as he reached out, trying to wrap you in a cocoon of metal to shield you from the world.

But you weakly lifted your hand, stopping him. "It’s too late," you whispered, your voice filled with a sadness that made Erik’s heart shatter. "I... I love you."

The words struck him harder than any attack ever had. Erik had faced war, genocide, and the loss of his family, but nothing had prepared him for this. Nothing had prepared him for losing you. "No," he whispered, his voice breaking as tears welled in his eyes. "I can’t lose you. Not you, Y/N."

You smiled weakly, your hand slipping from his grasp as the life faded from your eyes. "I’ll always... love you," you whispered, before your body went limp in his arms.

Erik let out a guttural cry, a sound filled with pure, raw grief. The metal around him trembled, shaking violently as his control faltered under the weight of his anguish. For the first time in years, Magneto was powerless, and it tore him apart.

He held you close, your lifeless body cradled in his arms as the world around him collapsed into chaos. He didn’t care about the battle anymore, didn’t care about the war or the cause.

All that mattered was that you were gone.

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lieutenantfloyd · 4 days

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Rainbow Cereal and Morning Confessions - Cyclone x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Over breakfast, you mention something that you noticed during the previous night, only for Beau to confess something that's been weighing heavily on his mind.

Warnings: Domestic fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of kids/pregnancy, Beau had a bad childhood and is bad with emotions but he's secretly a hopeless romantic.

Authors Note: This was originally a very different fic written with my OC in mind, but I loved this idea so much I couldn't help but rewrite it to post here! Based on some headcanons I posted in January.

Read on AO3

“You talk in your sleep.” You say between mouthfuls of colorful fruity cereal.

He eyes you sharply over his newspaper and takes a long swig off steaming black coffee.

“No, I don’t.” He answers dryly.

You twirl your spoon and give him a toothy grin. “Yeah, you do.”

He sends you an eye roll before pushing his plate away and returning to his daily reading.

Several minutes pass by without another word, but the silence between you is anything but awkward—It somehow never is.

“What exactly do I talk about?” He asks in a low voice, and it takes all you have not to jump up and kiss him then and there.

“National secrets, mostly.” You deadpan before quickly shoveling another spoonful of cereal into your mouth in a poorly planned attempt to stop your laughter.

His eyebrows fly up so fast that you nearly choke. He leans across the table, using thick fingers to wipe away a stray drop of milk that escaped your mouth before leaning back into his previous position and waiting on you to regain your composure.

“For real though, It was mostly gibberish with the occasional mention of pancakes.” You say nodding towards his plate.

He sends you an annoyingly soft smile as a bit of color returns to his face.

Your mind runs over his sleeping mumbles of the previous night, and you make a connection between his somniloquy and the handwritten notes you’d seen on his desk.

“You never told me you speak French.”

His handsome features shift into a look you’ve never seen before, and you feel his eyes scrutinize yours as if he’s deeply considering something.

“Cajun French. It’s what my parents spoke.”

You nod softly, feeling suddenly awkward as you pick up on the unusual tone laced through his deep voice.

In the years between your first meeting and now, you have asked countless people—all of various rank and branch, along with a few civilians—about him. Your inquiries had always turned up the same. Nothing. No wife, no kids, and no known background prior to joining the Navy. He didn’t even have any social media to stalk. Aside from these intimate moments only you share with him, he’s a complete mystery. Practically a ghost.

“Were you and your parents close?” You ask softly.

“No.” He says. The finality feels sharp, but his tone falls flat. His voice feels nearly foreign to your ears.

His eyes fall to yours again, only this time they’re a confusing mix of vulnerable and guarded. You know instantly that something happened—something bad—and you choose not to push the topic any further.

You look down at your bowl, stirring the now soggy cereal around the colorful milk. He always chastises you for eating it, but it’s no different than how you nag at him for surviving off of coffee and pent up anger—a simmering rage so intertwined with him that you’ve often wondered where it stems from. Still seated in front of you, he’s staring off into space. You’re too afraid to ask yourself that question now.

“Do you want kids?” He asks suddenly. “With me, I mean.”

You nearly let out a playful—who else do you think I’d let knock me up?—but he still has that far-away look on his face, so you pause. Swallowing air as you gather your thoughts.

“I… don’t think I’ve ever really thought about it.” You answer honestly, and he nods.

“I hadn’t thought about it either. Not until you.” He confesses.

“Having you in my life will always be the most important thing, but I realized that I’d probably like to be a dad.” He says. “And after I realized that, I also realized that I didn’t have anything from my own childhood to pass on to them.”

You nod, rendered breathless by the conversation. God, he’d be a good dad.

“Both my parents were Cajun. I remember that my mother was devoutly Catholic, and she raised me to speak French in a time when that just wasn’t what you did.” He pauses, only to resume after taking a deep breath. “I know now that they were complicated people. I choose not to think about them anymore.” He says in a voice so soft you nearly wonder if your mind made it up.

You nod along, giving him space to speak whatever is on his mind. You don’t let yourself question, aloud or otherwise, why he doesn’t speak of his father.

“That was a long time ago—and a lot of the language is lost on me now—but I wanted something…positive…to pass on if I ever had a kid.” He confesses.

You give him a soft smile before taking his hand across the table.

“You’ve clearly thought a lot about this, and while I haven’t yet, I will.” You say.

The conversation has taken such an intense turn that you felt shaky as you rose from your seat to clean up the breakfast dishes.

You fall into a lull of comfortable normalcy, though the bits of his history he revealed hang heavy in your mind as you load the dishwasher.

“Is there anything in particular you want to pass on? Anything I should learn…just in case?” You ask gently as you wipe your hands dry. It was a simple, genuine question, though by the gentle but shocked look on his face, you might as well have gotten on one knee and asked for his hand in marriage.

“I’ll think about it,” he says with the slightest teasing tone.

You smile, happy to know nothing is weighing too heavy on him, and things are back to business as usual once again.

“There’s a lot I want to tell you and more that I should, but..”

“Hey,” you say calmly “there’s no pressure. If you want to wax poetic about your entire life story or you never want to speak about it again, it’s fine. Childhoods are weird, and what matters is who you become after it all.”

He settles back into the chair, staring at you with nothing my pure adoration. Still, something has his shoulders tense, and something tells you that it’s the same thing that has words lying on the tip of your tongue.

“You’re a good man, Beau. And you’d make an amazing father.”

He rises to his seat, folds his newspaper—left over right, top over bottom, always—and drops it on the table. Cherry oak. Pretty, solid wood.

He crosses the short distance between you and kisses your head like the good man and partner he is. Without another word, he drops back into his seat and assumes his previous position, though the tension he always holds in his shoulders gives way just a bit. Sunlight has barely begun to stream in through the large kitchen windows, casting the table you are both seated at in a fresh, golden glow. A comfortable silence stretches between you as you finish the last few bites of your breakfast. He’s leaning back in his chair, legs crossed, though his left hand lays casually against the table. As the minutes pass, your hand absentmindedly brushes against his. He glances up at you over his paper, his eyes filled with warmth as a hint of a smile plays on his lips.

“I know you hate getting up this early, but I like being able to spend my mornings with you,” he says as he encircles your hand with his own, brushing the pads of his fingertips over your knuckles. You look up at him, your swelling as his words sink in. Aside from the daily ‘I love you’ s, Beau isn’t someone who ever verbalizes his emotions. Though he has never once held back from showing you just how much he cares.

“Me too,” you reply. Your hand squeezes his gently, a small gesture that confirms you recognize the gravity of his admission.

The smell of his black coffee lingers in the air as you hear the world outside begin to wake up. You sit happily in each other's presence for several moments longer. The world outside the window feels far away and almost meaningless compared to the cozy safe haven of his kitchen.

Suddenly, you feel his shift and reluctantly pull his hand from yours. You glance briefly at the clock, laughing as the numbers confirm that he has only minutes before he needs to leave for work. He rinses his mug and sets it on a tea towel, leaving it to dry. He swipes his bag off the counter and leans in for a full, proper kiss this time. You smile up at him as he pulls away, knowing that no matter what his day ahead holds, the moments you shared together over breakfast will tide him over until he can come back home to you.

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thexxxthdoctor · 3 months

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Gambler's Grip

****WARNING - Over 18s Only****

Summary: Sometime after X-Men 97, Gambit is back from death and by Rogue's side. Despite the Cajun's insistence that she has nothing to be sorry for, Rogue cannot shake her feelings of guilt. Written by commission.

Short story featuring Rogue and Gambit. Features BDSM, CNC, consensual sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, masturbation, cum play, spanking, punishment.

Long-fallen leaves crumpled under her boot as she breathed the deepest sigh her super-powered but exhausted body would allow her, and paused to rest against an ancient, oak tree, a short way into the forest she walked through.

The ordeal was over, Rogue allowed herself to accept. It was over, and he was back. The Cajun thief whose card-throwing skills and mastery of biokinetic energy had led him to a hero’s death in the fall of Genosha, after so-long and against such odds, was returned. Though their skin remained separated by the cruel necessity of unwanted materials, the intensity of their first embrace transcended the merely physical, as though their souls themselves entwined in celestial ecstasy. As much as he had suffered, so too had she, as she fought her unrelenting fight first for revenge, then justice and, finally, hope. Now, hope was fulfilled, and he was returned. Mutantkind had recovered the hero named Gambit, and she had recovered her love, a man named Remy LeBeau.

And yet…

Her love for her man, her Remy, burned with the ferocity of a thousand suns and the merest look from his beautiful, dark and red eyes was enough to show her the depth of his reciprocation. But though she had battled to bring him back to her side, so much within her refused to forgive herself for what had gone before. The knowledge that her beautiful love, who could have any woman or man he wished, but who chose to give his all to the one person he couldn’t touch, had gone to his death believing she did not love him back. The yearning she felt for physical connection had made the offer of Magneto too much to resist, if only for a moment, but it was a moment Remy never knew had ended, before he sacrificed himself to save thousands.

Now he was back, here, their love finally open and official for their friends to celebrate with them but the pain of what she had done gnawed at her incessantly, despite his reassurances that there was nothing to forgive, that he understood her need for touch, that he would have waited an infinity to be there for her, however she needed him to be, his love eternal and undiminished. In return, she had begged him to show anger, to release the pain her rejection of him had caused; to let it all out so they could purge it together and be free. And each time she had begged, he had refused, declaring he had no right to show anger, and no desire to show anything but love, despite whatever pain he had felt.

Just minutes earlier, she had pleaded again, but to no avail, and so, into the black Westchester night, she had stormed in frustration, determined to shout her anger at herself and at Gambit’s stoic martyrdom. Once her body was emptied of rage, she thought to herself, she would return and slip into the bed they now shared since his resurrection. She would, she began to plot to herself, gently wake him with a gloved hand stroking his chiselled, warm face, before moving it further down his body, fixing her eyes on his as she wrapped it around the perfect cock she imagined already stiffening beneath her touch.

Surrendering to her outdoor daydream, Rogue felt the same hand she planned to employ, reach downwards, brushing and pressing against her uniform-clad crotch, the unmistakeable sensation of her pussy dampening in anticipation thrilling her as so often it did. She began to press harder, but then…

Something wasn’t right. The softest of cushioned steps sounded from behind her. Perhaps, had she not been so engrossed in self-pleasure, she might have heard them before it was too late, but before she could even move her hand away from her pussy, the sensation of cold metal surrounded her neck, followed by the click of a clasp, locking into place.

Rogue gasped, half in shock, half in delight, as the owner of her collar stepped out from behind her, into view. Remy LeBeau. Gambit. But Gambit as she had never seen him before.

Although she had felt the touch of such restraints before and knew their power-dampening properties, she gave a perfunctory struggle, both to confirm she was, for now, powerless, and to indulge what the darkest part of her hoped was about to happen.

“What the hell d’ya think you’re playing at, Swamp Rat?”

Gambit’s stare was austere, strict and, Rogue thought, a little dangerous. Beneath his trench coat, the usual pinks and blues were gone, replaced by pitch black, which only added to the uncertainty of what was happening.

“I figured you weren’t gonna let ‘dis one go, chère.” His voice, though as intoxicating as ever, was bereft of the lightness she was accustomed to hearing in it, instead, each word was imbibed with an air of authority, of a type Remy LeBeau would typically scorn. “You know how much you’ve pressed at ‘dis, you know how hard you’ve tried to get me to let go, completely of every restraint I ever placed on myself, of every rule I ever made.”

Rogue could only nod. She knew only too well. From their fateful first kiss so long ago, they had known everything about each other, the good, the bad and the dark. And it was that side of himself she had begged him to explore in order to make her atone for the pain she caused, to pay the proper penance. Until now, he had always refused.

“You spent so damn long chipping away at ‘dis,” Gambit continued, his eyes never leaving hers. “So damn long trying to make me break, ‘den comin’ out her and playin’ wit’ ‘dat sweet pussy of yours when I wouldn’t crumble. You think Gambit a fool, chère?”

“Wh… what? No, Remy, ah don’t...”

The words wouldn’t come, whether through shock at the language her love used or the thought that his use of them meant she had finally broken through his armour, and he was about to truly let go.

“Gambit ain’t no fool.”

Rogue shook her head. Remy LeBeau was many things, some of which the nervousness inside her told her she was about to find out, but a fool he was not.

“I already told you chère, there ain’t nothin’ to forgive. But you still want the goddamn punishment, oui?”

She nodded, eagerly, taking herself by surprise at how badly she wanted it.

“Damn it Cajun, I need to be punished,” she exclaimed in earnest, “I deserve it!”

For the first time, a hint of his typical smile appeared at the corner of Gambit’s mouth, though etched with just a hint of cruelty.

“’Den come a little closer and stand in front of me, petit.”

Rogue hesitantly began to move, then more quickly as he ordered again, his voice harsh and domineering, displeased with even momentary delay. Her arrival before him was greeted with a thumb and forefinger under her chin, forcing her head up to look up, her eyes staring into his, wide in uncertainty.

With his other hand, Remy remove a long, shining pair of tailor’s scissors from his coat pocket, snipping the black handle in the air between them. Her eyes moved to the blades as he slowly, so, so slowly moved them down Rogue’s body to the hem of her uniform.

Snip.

Rogue began to object but a sharp, firm tap from Remy’s hand on her cheek told her that her protestations were useless. Another small, sharp slap reinforced the message before the hand returned to its position under her chin. Rogue gulped, beginning to wonder if it was really so wise to beg for so long for the Cajun thief to unleash his darker side.

Snip.

She gave no objection this time as the scissors reached the collar of her ruined uniform, which fell open to reveal her breasts, cupped in the red, lacy bra she had thought to tease him with again, and she saw for the first time how full of lust his eyes were. Lust for her. Lust which she knew damn well was about to be satisfied.

The scissors moved once more, the cold steel sending goosebumps through her as he slid them carefully, but wilfully behind the waistband of your green and yellow uniform bottoms.

Snip.

“Magneto not the only one good with metal, chère, no?”

A pang of dizziness shot through Rogue’s mind at Gambit’s pointed barb, and she gulped once more as he cut down the left leg of her uniform, down to the knee, then the same on the right.

Snip.

They fell away, hanging around her knees, leaving her red lace panties in full view. Panties which they both knew she had made herself cum in already that day, and which now, despite the tingle of anxiousness she had started to feel, were damp again.

Remy discarded the scissors, pulling the remnants of her uniform shirt from her shoulders and ordered her to rid herself of her shredded clothing. She hesitated again. Another error. The Cajun’s thumb and forefinger under her chin became an instant full clasp of her throat, pushing her backwards until Rogue felt the cold, rough bark on her exposed and vulnerable flesh. He gave his order one more time, and she scrambled to comply, standing before him again, awaiting instruction, her eyes wide.

“How much you play wit’ your pussy today, chère?” Gambit asked, his voice soft but commanding. Her voice uncharacteristically nervous, Rogue stated the number, only for his eyes to narrow in disapproval.

“’Dat’s not enough, chère,” he tutted. “No-damn-where near enough. On your knees, petit, put ‘dat hand of yours inside those panties for me.”

A wave of sudden embarrassment shot through Rogue, but Remy’s grip moved at lightening pace from her throat to the back of her head, clumping her hair and pulling it down, hard. She obeyed his command, dropping to her knees and slipping her into her panties, the intensity of the moment forcing her to comply and rub at her swollen, aching clit.

As she knelt before him, her eyes locked into his as she bucked and rubbed onto her hand, she felt him roughly pull the bra straps from her shoulders, freeing her breasts for his enjoyment, his hands greedily pulling and tugging at her hard nipples as her orgasm built inside her. Just as she began to feel the cusp of the crescendo, her lover’s hand clamped onto her arm and pulled her hand from her panties.

“No.”

Rogue looked up in frustrated pleading, unable to find the words to complain.

“You don’t have my permission to cum yet, petit,” Gambit said, his face set in enjoyment. “You have to earn it.”

Rogue’s eyes widened further still as Remy pulled the coat from his shoulders and the belt from his waist, her mouth salivating as he finally pulled the aching, hard dick from his pants and commanded her to open her mouth. At once eager and scared to take it in, Rogue leaned forward, tasting the tip as Gambit pushed it over her tongue until she felt it push against the back of her throat, spit filling her mouth as his hands pulled at her hair and he thrust into her face.

She had pleaded for him to punish her like this but now, in the moment, in the open air, exposed and powerless, the rush was unlike anything Rogue could have expected. Her eyes began to water at the intrusion in her mouth and her ears filled with the sound of herself sucking and gagging on her lover’s insistent cock, as his voice commanded her to thank him for the privilege. Trying her best to mumble a few words, Rogue jolted as a sharp slap connected with her ass cheeks.

“Elocute, chère,” she heard Gambit say as she looked up to see him brandishing the cane he had begun to punish her ass with, with the firm strokes of a strict disciplinarian. “Let Gambit hear you say it like you mean it.”

She struggled to shout thanks past his hard, relentless mouth fucking, a fresh cane spank on her ass for each failed attempt. The unfairness of it began to overwhelm her before the Cajun relented from his spanking and pulled his dick from her mouth, relishing her gasps as he granted momentary respite. Breathless, she asked if she had pleased him, and if she might be allowed to cum, expectantly making to return her hand to her panties. He pulled it away, binding her wrists together with cords pulled swiftly from a burlap bag behind him.

“’Dat pussy, chère,” he whispered as he secured her restraints, “belongs to me. Not you, not Erik, but me.”

Pulled up from the floor, Rogue felt herself pushed back against the tree as Gambit slid his own hand down the front of her panties, delighting in the wetness and sliding two fingers straight into her warm hole.

It relaxed to accept him at once, recognising its new Master as he pushed another finger inside, curling them back to find the spot they both knew would make her fold.

“Keep looking in my eyes,” he ordered, as his wrist movements quickened, her pussy responding in instant, orgasmic intensity. Rogue screamed profanities, the pleasure overtaking her senses but still Remy’s voice cut through, ordering her to keep her fucking eyes on his. Her legs turned to jelly, and her knees buckled, her body supported only by her lover’s grip on her throat and pussy.

Overcome, Rogue attempted to rest against the tree, but Remy warned you that she wasn’t finished yet. Punishment was what she had demanded, and it had only just begun. Pulling his lover away from the trunk, Gambit retrieved a thick, strong rope from the bag and hooked one end to Rogue’s helpless, bound wrists, throwing the other over the gnarled branch above her head and pulling it down until her arms stretched high above her.

Goosebumps broke out over every millimetre of the young mutant’s flesh, the intensity of the lust behind Gambit’s red eyes impossible for her body, mind or soul to deny. His fingers delicately teasing her bare arms, he pulled away the remnants of Rogue’s red, lace bra, pausing only to enjoy the wriggle she made as she tried to twist and turn in any way that might satisfy the calls of her throbbing clit. Toying with his captive still further, the Cajun ran his fingers down her exposed body to the edge of her soaked, ruined panties, inching them into place over her clit and pulling at them, allowing the friction to tease her.

As Rogue felt herself begin to surrender once more to the building ecstasy inside her, she felt a rough tug as Remy pulled her tattered and torn panties from her body and pushed the cum-soaked lace into her open mouth.

“You belong to me chère,” he said softly in her ear. “Now and forever, you belong to me.”

Swiftly, deliberately, the Cajun shed himself of his shirt. Her eyes followed him as he walked slowly around her, until the limited mobility he had granted her hid him from view.

She sensed him, at last, behind her, his fingertips brushing ever so delicately on the skin of her neck, moving down, over her armpits, tracing her ribs, taking in the curve of her hips, until his palm connected with her right ass cheek, and she gave a shout through her panties at the sting. The noise invited a second, harder spank as he stepped closer into her, his face by her ear, as he softly reminded her not to make a sound without his express permission.

Rogue nodded, helpless to do otherwise.

She felt his now naked body pressed against her own and his face nuzzling into her neck; the familiar warm sensation growing in the pussy which she knew would soon be claimed again. She supressed the moan she yearned to give as he bit down, just hard enough, on her shoulder, her neck, her ear… his left hand exploring her right breast, pinching and pulling at the stiff, still hardening nipple, while his right squeezed and spanked at her ass.

He asked, in that dreamlike Cajun accent, if she understood why this has to happen this way, and Rogue nodded before another harder slap connected with her pink, stinging ass cheek.

“Speak when your Master speaks to you,” he demanded.

“Yes Master.”

She shouted the words as loud as she could, through the ruined panties filling her mouth, and he pulled them from her mouth, discarding them on the floor. Her heart raced as he stepped back in front of her and she took in the full sight of his nakedness for the first time that night.

“You broke my heart, chère,” he said, softly.

Hearing him say the words flooded Rogue’s senses with the guilt that had taunted her thoughts for so long. But though she had yearned for him to admit the pain she had caused him, to blame her for it, the vocalised admission she had screamed at him to make was almost too much to bear, and she shook her head in sudden denial.

His fingers spanked sharply against her clit.

“Say it, chère,” he demanded softly, ignoring her recoil and spanking her pussy again. “Tell Gambit out loud what you did.”

“I…,” she faltered, another spank connecting with her clit in response. “I broke your heart.”

“Louder, chère,” he ordered. “Louder for the whole damn mansion to hear.” “I BROKE YOUR HEART!” “You broke WHO’S heart, chère?” “MY MASTER’S!”

“You spat in my face, petit,” Gambit recounted, slowly, the memory of the agony she had placed in his heart breaking through the shell he had crafted for the night. “You tore Gambit’s heart into pieces and spat in his face. So do it now.” The pleasure, the discomfort, the intensity of the beautiful torture he had trapped her in was intoxicating enough but the Cajun’s latest order overwhelmed her and, like a volcano of ecstatic rage, she finally, screamed her refusal, to the forest.

Gambit’s hand spanked once more onto her pussy, remaining there as though to hammer home his ownership of her, pushing two fingers once more inside his squirming, ecstatic, overwhelmed lover.

“I said,” he began, his voice cracking under the tumult of conflicting emotion, “spit in your Master’s face.”

The Vesuvian waves of shared emotion had long been heightened by the touching of their souls, and Rogue felt all the rage, regret, hurt, joy, wonder and love burning as one inside her. She spat it out at her lover’s face, her head dizzy once more at the splendour of seeing his handsome, charming, beautiful face, adorned with her own saliva. He grinned wide and took hold of her throat once more, spitting into her open mouth, forcing his own onto it as their tongues combined and they screamed their long-repressed pain into each other’s bodies.

Refusing to unclamp his mouth from hers as she moaned in tortuous pleasure, his fingers pushed deeper inside her, as her pussy widened to accommodate three, four, five… his whole, damn, fist.

The rage Rogue shouted into him turned to orgasmic chaos as she came again, her fluids squirting past Remy’s knuckles and onto the forest floor as he squeezed her throat tighter, restricting the air to her brain and making her surrender to the insanity of her punishment.

Finally, he pulled his mouth from hers and she heaved air into her lungs. Mascara stained her cheeks and sweat had matted her brown and white hair, but she knew she would be allowed little respite. The hand that seconds ago had been inside her was now by her face, as one by one, the fingers Gambit had used to get her off were pushed into her mouth; her tastebuds relishing the flavour of her own pussy.

“You know what you still don’t understand, chère?” Gambit asked, as she sucked and nibbled at his fingers. She shook her head.

“You ain’t even been punished for what you think Gambit punishing you for.”

Rogue looked into his eyes in silent, exhausted confusion as he began to softly caress her face.

“Gambit never hated you for breaking his heart,” the Cajun gently intoned. “I resented it, sure, I hated him for taking you. But you won me heart and soul a long time back, chère. You have me. You will always have me. You might think you’re in the Gambler’s Grip right now, but I been in yours forever. Your punishment ain’t for seeing if you could work something out wit’ a guy who could touch you. It’s for thinking you had something to be sorry for, and for not believing ‘dat there ain’t nothing you could do to make Gambit stop loving you.”

Reaching up, Remy unhooked his soulmate’s arms from the branch unbinding her wrists and freeing her aching limbs from their restraints, standing before her, as naked and vulnerable as she, with only the silence of pure love between them.

“Remy, I…” Rogue began, her voice faltering as the words refused to come.

“We equals, chère,” he said, picking up her sentence. “We both gon’ do stupid things, both ‘gon make mistakes. But we both always ‘gon be here for each other forever. Ain’t nothin’ or nobody can stop ‘dat. Not even death.”

Rogue blinked back the tear she felt forming in her eye and pulled her lover to her, clasping her arms around his neck and accepting the warmth of his body against hers, not wanting the moment to end.

“Ah love you, swamp rat,” she softly said, looking into his deep, loving eyes. Spying the Cajun’s discarded trench coat on the ground she crossed over and slowly knelt down upon it, casting a lustful glance over her shoulder at the man she loved.

“Ah suppose,” she began, her customary mischievousness returned to her voice, “we should make use of what time we have before this old collar needs to come off. What d’ya say, Cajun?”

It was Gambit’s turn to be lost for words, before the opportunity presenting itself made him realise that on this occasion, actions would speak louder.

Her face down on the stretched-out coat, Rogue felt him kneeling behind her, his hot breath on her most intimate places, before the first sensation of his tongue reached her labia, gleefully lapping up the cum she had already spent, then moving to her clit, seeking to generate more. She moaned uncontrollably as Remy expertly sucked, licked, nibbled and played with the pussy she had surrendered to him, until she felt herself building to cum again.

As she shook on all fours, recovering from her latest orgasm, Remy LeBeau assured her of his eternal love for her. She reciprocated with a gasp as she felt his hands squeeze and spread her ass cheeks apart and felt the sensation of his tongue exploring each, sweet inch of it. Pushing two fingers back inside her pussy, Gambit pressed his thumb into Rogue’s tightest, most private hole and she moaned in profane delight as he complimented his anal assault by tugging her hair back, hard. Another, still louder moan accompanied the all-consuming joy of Remy’s achingly hard dick being pushed, slowly inside her pussy, as his fingers continued to explore her asshole, the combination of penetrations making her body shudder and jerk.

Satisfied with you latest pulsing climax and the loosening of her asshole, Gambit waited for the throes of her ecstasy to subside before easing his cock from its home and pressing its tip against her ass, marvelling at how readily it gave way to him.

“Oh, fuck, oh fuck…” Rogue panted her expletives as Gambit sunk his full, impressive length deep, deep inside her asshole.

“You like ‘dat, chère?” he asked her, his voice cracking with pleasure.

“Ah fuck, ah love it, sugah,” she answered in surprised and absolute honesty. “Ah love you, Remy, an’ ah love you fucking my ass.”

The pace of the assfucking increased, and Rogue knew her man was nearing his limit as he pulled out of her ass and pressed her cheeks apart, sensing him staring in adoration at her gaping hole. She grew desperate for the sight, feel and taste of his cum and scrambled forward, turning to face him on her knees as he clamped his hand tight around his dick.

“Give it to me, Remy,” she ordered as his hand moved rapidly up and down his long, thick shaft. “Give all of it to me, and nobody else. No-one else, ever.”

She knelt, mouth open wide and tongue out waiting for him to deliver as ordered, her heart bursting with love, lust and devotion. His face twisted into orgasmic contortions and a stream of thick, white cum spring from the tip of his dick, landing hot and sweet on her face and tongue, dripping down onto the power-dampening collar that had made their night possible.

As his knees buckled and the stroke of his hand grew slower, the remaining droplets of cum leaking from his slowly softening dick, Rogue gently pulled him down onto the coat with her, embracing her man and being embraced by him. Their lips met in a passionate, loving kiss, as they tasted and shared each other’s essence, becoming ever more entwined together.

These two had been through everything this world and the next could throw at them. They were joined for eternity, body, heart, soul and mind. And they each knew as they lay together, embracing on the forest floor, that whatever challenges, whatever pains the future might hold, they would face them as partners, lovers, and, one day soon, spouses. They would face them together. Gambit and Rogue.

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cera-writes · 4 months

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I love all your fics and i read you wanted to write song fics, and I've been obsessed with TTPD and Gambit this past month, so I was thinking in a hiper angsty fic inspired on this album and other songs, where Gambit meets Avenger! Reader, who is in her twenties, and they have a secret relationship because it could be a disaster between their teams, and she doesn't know Remy and Rogue's history, so when they break up and he goes back to Rogue, the reader doesn't know if everything that they had was real to him, plot twist Remy was using her to get information all that time. And she's heartbroken, but at the same time, she has so much rage.

Some songs by taylor swift that give me the vibe of their relationship: "Gorgeous", "Suburban Legends", "willow", "Slut!" "august", "Guilty as sin?", "Florida!!!", "The smallest man who ever lived", "down bad", "my boy only breaks his favourite toys", "how did it end?", "Would've, could've, should've", "dear john"

plus: "Silver Springs" and "can't catch me now" because he'll always be tormented by her love

* Sorry if there's something you can't understand, English is not my first language!!! Also, I don't know if you like Taylor or if this is a long request for you, so I understand if you don't write this, but I hope it can help you when you need inspiration.

And thanks for feeding the Gambit nation, his fics are scarce and everything you write is amazing xoxoxo

-💫

A/N: hello fellow Swiftie~ I wrote these sectioned into mini parts! It'd probably take me a while to write a full length fic but I summarized their relationship according to each song you requested :) Pairing: Remy "Gambit" LeBeau x (Avenger) AFAB!Reader

Tangled Threads (A Gambit/Avenger!Reader Songfic)

Part 1: Gorgeous (and secret trysts)

He sauntered in, that Cajun charm dripping like molasses, a smirk playing on his lips that could disarm a bomb squad. Gambit. Not exactly Avenger material, an X-Man, but here he was lounging in the small speakeasy, all roguish charisma and smoldering unusual eyes. The two of you had struck up a secret alliance, amidst a blossoming relationship.

"He's gorgeous," you thought, trying to focus on the holographic briefing flickering before you. "Gorgeous enough to be a criminal mastermind." The internal voice was probably right.

He caught your eye, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Mind if I join the party, cher? Looks like you could use some company."

You rolled your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips. *"This isn't a party, Gambit. Briefing. And besides. we're supposed to be secretive."

"Even briefings need a little spice, wouldn't you agree?" He leaned closer, his voice a low rumble. "Besides, I brought intel."

That piqued your interest. Intel was always welcome, especially from someone as questionable as Gambit. The next few hours were a blur of stolen glances, whispered strategies, and a thrill that sent shivers down your spine. This shouldn't feel so good, not with him on the other side of the line.

But there he was, effortlessly weaving himself into the fabric of your world, a secret melody in the symphony of my life. "And you're right here, right next to me," the T-Swift song echoed over the ambiance of the bar, perfectly capturing the forbidden electricity crackling between you.

Stolen moments turned into stolen nights. Rooftop rendezvous under the city lights, whispered secrets amidst the chaos. You were a tangled mess, a love story written in code, a secret waiting to be exposed.

"Deep down, I know this is delicate," the lyrics resonated with the fragile nature of your connection. "But I can't turn away." The danger was intoxicating, a forbidden fruit you couldn't resist. But the fear, a persistent whisper in the back of my mind, gnawed at you.

Was it real, or was it just a game? Were you just another pawn in Gambit's grand scheme? The thought sent a tremor through you. "Maybe we got something good," the song continued in your headphones, painting a hopeful picture despite the growing doubt.

But hope, like trust, was a fragile thing. One day, the melody would change, the chords turning discordant. And when it did, the fallout would be a symphony of heartbreak.

Part 2: Willow (and Whispers)

"We can't keep doing this," you whispered one starlit night, the weight of your double life heavy on your chest. "It's too risky. We're on opposite sides."

He pulled you closer, the familiar warmth a bittersweet comfort. "Love doesn't play by team rules, cher." You could never tell what he was thinking. He always had that damn poker face.

"If this was an open shut case, I never would've known from the look on your face, Rem," you replied, challenging his open statement.

"Heh," he smirked. "Daring though, non?"

"But it can get us both killed," you countered, the voice you used for briefings laced with unspoken fear.

"Maybe that's the thrill, yeah?" He winked, the playful facade a mask for something deeper. "You're a prize I'd cheat to win, chere."

A knot tightened in your stomach. Was it just a game to him? Was he another "august slip away into a moment in time," a fleeting fling he'd discard when the thrill faded? "Guilty as sin," you thought, a line from another song echoing your turmoil.

Part 3: Slut! (and Lies)

The news hit you like a psychic blast. Remy LeBeau, back with Rogue. Public declarations, lovey-dovey photos splashed across mutant newsfeeds. The air felt thick with betrayal, the stolen moments tainted with a sickening suspicion. "Slut! Oh, you're the only one who even tried." The song ripped through you, a cruel mirror reflecting your shattered trust.

Fury simmered, a storm brewing beneath the hurt. Were you just a pawn in some twisted game? "Down bad, down bad, but I won't cry." You wouldn't let him break you. Rage, a fiery ember, ignited alongside the heartbreak. Maybe this was for the best. Your reputation had never been worse. At least you could focus on your team and not Remy anymore. But who were you kidding? It hurt.

Part 4: The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived (and Doubts)

Days turned into a blur of training, a desperate attempt to drown the doubts. "Was he the smallest man who ever lived?" You questioned everything, replaying his words, searching for a crumb of truth. Had he ever loved you, or was it all an act? A cruel manipulation to infiltrate the Avengers?

Part 5: Dear John (and Deception)

You cornered him, the raw emotions a maelstrom in your eyes. "Did any of it mean anything, Remy?" The question hung heavy in the air.

His smile didn't reach his eyes. "Always cherish the memories, cher. But some things just can't last."

"Would've, could've, should've," you seethed. "Was it all a lie?" The words were a gut punch, a desperate plea for the truth.

He turned away, a flicker of regret in his eyes. "Maybe that's a story for another time."

Raw, unbridled anger burned through your veins.

"Right," you spat, the bitterness dripping from your tongue. "Just another girl you used and discarded." The weight of his betrayal settled on you, a heavy cloak.

Chapter 6: Can't Catch Me Now (and a Tangled Future)

The training room became your sanctuary. Sweat turned into tears, the pain fueling a relentless drive. Punches became declarations, each blow a defiant roar against his betrayal. "Flying like a jet stream, faster than the white cars can go." You wouldn't be some damsel in distress, a mere conquest in his web of lies. You'd become stronger, faster, a force to be reckoned with.

He might call himself Gambit, but the real gamble was his. He'd bet on manipulating you, using you for his own ends. But the tables had turned. You wouldn't be another forgotten pawn in his game.

One day, your paths would cross again. And when they did, you wouldn't be the naive hero he'd once known. He might slip through your fingers like charged cards, haunted by the ghost of a love he couldn't keep. But as you soared through the air, empowered by rage and renewed purpose, one thing was certain:

"You can't catch me now."

Hope this was okay! I tried to use most of the songs you listed! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

#x men 97 #xmen #gambit #remy lebeau #gambit x reader #remy lebeau x reader #cera writes #taylor swift song fic

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arlemangel7 · 5 months

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Gambit x blackfem!Mutantreader x rogue

First meet: Love in the club

When he met you he had three thought southern loud and sexy. You were a bartender that knew her way around the bar and how to entertain large crowds from the door all he could hear was loud woos and "come down on the left", "what can I getcha boys?", "alright alright two beers and six shots haha, guess we have a big night tonight huh 😁". He was alittle star struck almost to the point of drooling and had it not been for rogue nudging him out of his trants he'd still be standing at door mouth agap watching you twirl and dazzle the room as you shake cocktails all from behind the bar.

Rogue thought you were a raging fire but knew what she wanted soon as she seen you. She sauntered up to the bar through the sea of men sat right now in the center and said "hey sugar how's about me and you take a shot of your choice when you get a minute,hm?". You standing in her perfect line of sight say "well I hope you can shoot something sweeter than you accent darlin?" Without missing a beat she replies with "tell ya what, I'll take as many shots as it takes to get you to come home with me?" You, muddling limes into the bottom of the tin say "well, lucky for you I don't have any plans tonight and I get off in an hour. Soooooo if you can down ten shots of my choosing without throwing up or keeling over I'll take you...and your friend there up on your offer. And?" You place the muddler down grab a bottle and turns around to face her with the bottle still out of view "I'll tell you the name of your poison just cause im so nice." She place the bottle on the counter between yall "100 proof jack, so, do ya really wanna take me home?"

Five minutes later

Yall are down to the last shots of whiskey. Rogue takes her ninth shot and then you follow both your tummies are churning proof that both of you have CLEARLY over estimated the integrity of your stomachs, gambit is in the middle of yall already guessing the outcome if this battle is finished as intended "Listen ladies, I'd suggest we fold this round." both you and rogue say in unison "hush it Cajun!" Realizing yall both made a jinx burst into laughter before you say "you sure you wanna finish this?" She doesn't say anything accept "to our night together." She raises her shot glass up awaiting for you to do the same you chuckle raising your shot glass and doing your best to maintain eye contact through fuzzy vision "night ha *hiccup* try life" *clink* yall slam the glasses on counter and down them hearing the crowd roar in drunken cheers was the last thing you heard before blacking out.

The next morning.

You wake up to bright Sunrays shining through the window next to your bed..... only you don't have a window next your bed. It takes a few seconds to feel an arm squeeze around your tummy and a "mmm" in a slightly familiar voice. You softly and slowly turn to get a glimpse of your bed mates face when you realize you are naked, this makes you spring to a Sitting position trying desperately to remember what happened. "Well good morning cher, helluva night you had huh?" Surprised by the southern male voice coming from the fuzzy figure coming from the doorway. Squinting to get a better view of this person he says "your specks are on the night stand on ya right" you smile silently in thanks and retrieve your second eyes. After a few seconds your pink irises start to focus and you see the man from the bar "names remi but you may know me as 'cajun' I believed you called me last night" you nod "y/n". "Awh, a beautiful name for a beautiful lady. Your bedmate is.." "rogue?" You cut him off, you remember her saying that was her name on the way out of the bar.

"The very same, may I?" He gesters to the spot on the end of the bed trying to be careful with his movement not to frighten you you nod and he sits down before you ask "we didn't do..???" "No cher nothing like that, you two kissed alittle on the couch got naked because it was two hot in here wondered through the house to this very bedroom and watched TV until you both passed out on top of the covers. From there all I did was place a blanket atop both of you, remove your glasses shut the door and went to go sleep on the couch." Seeing the slight skepticism written on your face he says " listen i understand how it sounds but scouts honor im not made that way and There are security cameras in the living room and the hall if you wanna check for ya self."

For your own sanity you decide to take him up on his offer and Lou and behold he is telling the truth you both stumbled in the house threw your keys on the table near the door splayed on the couch where rogue atop of you where a make out session followed as yall are preoccupied with each other remi is seen in the back chuckles shaking his head taking his coat off, locking the door and going down the hall to the room where we ended up. Going back to the living room camera yall break from. The kiss turn on the TV say something in audible to each other and proceed to ditch clothes left right and center until nothing but skin remains yall cuddle on the couch for a sec before saying another sentence to rogue and her reply makes you rise from your position of your head on her belly to walk/stumble through the hall opening doors left and right until you found the bathroom following your departure rogue meets you in the hallway and guides you to the bed room as you both enter remi leaves shutting the door behind him and going to lay down on the couch.

"See a perfect gentlemen." He says in a matter of fact tone "alright I, ahhhh" you say feeling a sharp pang ring through your head "so you want Tylenol, ibuprofen or advil?, and what would you like for breakfast I got waffles eggs and sausage." (Insert medicine and breakfast of choice here) "That'd be great, thank you" he gives you one of his shirts to put on before breakfast is ready and points you to the hall closet with all the spare rag,towels, toothbrushes and etc are he tells you food will be ready in a second and to take all the time you need. Between that time rogue wakes up and is in the dining room where the food and remi are.

After this your relationship would start off and the rest would be history.

As always stories mine characters belong to who they belong to

Let me know your thoughts and ideas

Signing off for now sleep well yall💋💋

#character x fem! reader #black coded reader #female reader #gambit x reader #poly couple #rogue x gambit #rogue x reader #xmen #x men 97 #black!fem!reader

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deadpool-wade-wilson · 2 months

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Got to love saying the wrong shit and accidentally set off a raging Cajun 😅

I should’ve rephrased my wording holy shit—

#marvel rp #rp blog #wade wilson #deadpool #ok to interact

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shadowphoenixrider · 1 month

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Locker Room Debriefing

(After Shadow finishes a Danger Room training session, she finds Gambit is waiting for her. And when Gambit gets an idea into his head, what starts as a simple discussion turns into something more...intimate. Enjoy some more smut!)

"Dat was some performance, chère!" Gambit greeted me as I entered the locker room, grinning widely and spreading his hands. "You gettin' better all de time!"

"Thank you." I smiled back at him, moving over to my own locker, aware of his gaze following me like a hawk. "You were right about getting a weapon to use; I'm really liking this sword." I unbuckled the scabbard of the short bastard sword from my brown leather belt around my waist, placing it inside. "I still can't discount the bow, though." The unstrung fibreglass bowstave leant on the other side of cabinet, a row of metal training arrows arranged alongside. "I've always liked archery, and it feels better if I stay outta the fray, you know?"

"Sure, can see that." Gambit nodded. "Jus' a coupla problems though: one, 'side from stabbin' people wit ya arrows, ya not got many options if someone gets close. Not like ya can hit dem with it without it breakin'." He shifted his position, pointing at my hands. "Two, de archer gloves you'll need remove ya ability to use ya powers. Least 'til you learn to heal us through fabric."

"And that doesn't seem like something I'm gonna be able to do for a while yet." I muttered, frowning down at my current black gloves. Beast had designed them specifically to grant protection whilst allowing me to lay my hands on those I needed to help - they covered my wrist and most of the back of my hand, with a loop to attach around my middle finger, but left the rest of my hand, especially my palm, exposed.

"'Sides." His voice made me glance back up. "Ya can't deny de thrill of jus' wailin' on somethin', non?" His midnight eyes twinkled knowingly. "You were goin' at dem drones like ya were when we be sparrin' in de forest, an' havin' a good time of it too!"

I chuckled, unbuckling my belt and dropping it into the locker.

"Okay, that's fair. It was very fun to just let loose and go to town." My gaze drifted to him, smile playing on my lips. "You still think of that night?"

"O' course." Gambit's warm smile made heat rise up into my face like steam, as he pushed off the wall and stepped towards me. "Gambit'd never forget."

"Neither can I." I admitted, giggling weakly. "Especially my terrible attempt at a first kiss..."

His deep chuckle was as genial as his smile.

"Found it very sweet, actually." He replied, my blush darkening.

"I'm glad."

It was a sweet moment...up until a devious glint entered Gambit's dark eyes, and they began to rove hungrily over me.

"Oh no, I know that look." I folded my arms. "What are you up to?"

"Gambit jus' thinkin'," he said casually, stepping closer with an intent that was anything but.

"Uh huh." I quirked an eyebrow up at him. "And what, dare I ask, is the Raging Cajun thinking?"

His red black eyes flicked away to the closed door for a moment, before returning to me.

"No-one's scheduled to be in de Danger Room for another hour or so, chère," he said, taking yet another step forwards. I stepped back and to the side, away from the lockers he was trying to trap me against. "And here ya be, in dat suit of yours." His grin stretched from ear to ear. "Gambit always wondered what ya look like under it."

I rolled my eyes, continuing to back up from his approach. Ever since I agreed with Professor Xavier that I would be training for missions proper, I had graduated from the spare black and yellow body-suits to something more personalised.

Although I'd stuck with the body-suit, mine had a broad blood red stripe running down the torso and inner thighs instead of the yellow, with the small black 'X' logo remaining against the red, just above my left breast. The look was partnered with shin high black leather combat boots and the custom designed gloves, along with a thick brown leather belt and two thigh pouches to make up for a lack of pockets. I'd left the thigh ones in the locker for this straight combat training session.

And ever since I'd first started wearing a suit for the training simulations, Gambit had seemingly never known peace.

"You've seen me naked, Cajun." I retorted. "It's not going to be any different!"

"Gambit gonna be de the judge of dat, mon amie..." He purred, just as my back hit a wall, and he caged me in with his tall frame. I sighed, giving him a Look as he smirked triumphantly down at me.

"You've been fantasising about this for a while, haven't you?" I raised an eyebrow at him. Gambit barked out a laugh.

"Guilty as charged, chère." His grin became playful. "Can ya blame Gambit, though?" He ran his hands down my sides. "You fill it out in all de right ways..."

"That explains why Rogue keeps turning heads." Was my comment, making him chuckle.

"Dat be one of de reasons, yeah. But we not talkin' 'bout her." Gambit's hands curled around the top of my hips, moving close enough that his heat and masculine scent washed over me from the inside of his coat. "Gambit only have eyes for one beautiful woman." He murmured, lowering his head to gently brush our foreheads together.

His black and red eyes (the same colours as my suit, I suddenly noted with amusement) gazed lovingly at me, despite the desire simmering behind them, and they searched mine for permission to enact whatever crazy plan was cooking in his head.

I smiled up at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing our lips together in what started out as a chaste, gentle kiss. That rapidly changed as soon as Gambit's hands moved from my hips to my backside, cupping and squeezing, his tongue in my mouth as soon as I moaned. I melted against him as we reacquainted ourselves with one another, the hard lines of his cuirass be damned.

Not that Gambit lingered for long - soon he pulled back, leaving sloppy kisses to the corner of my mouth, then jaw, slowly working his way down. I rolled my head back, exposing my neck to the Cajun's eager mouth, kissing, nipping and occasionally dragging his tongue over my fluttering pulse.

That was until he reached the boundary of my suit, where he paused, fiddling with my collar for a moment.

"Ah, dere it is." He muttered, and when I looked down, I caught sight of a particularly wicked grin on his face.

"Gambit?" I asked, not quite sure if I was ready for whatever the answer would be.

"S'all good, chère." He replied, sliding a hand around to my back. "Jus' keep ya eyes on me, okay?"

"Sure..."

He flashed me another grin, before leaning in close to my collar, his tongue darting out to find and unearth the zip from its hiding place. It was only when Gambit clamped his teeth around it and our eyes met did I realize what he was about to do. He grinned widely, and winked.

Then he began to pull it down.

Gambit took his time, his eyes locked to mine, slowly but surely revealing the expanses of my pale, freckled skin to the cooler locker room air. The Cajun slid down my body with an almost serene grace, hands gliding down my sides even as the spandex parted. The zipper stopped mercifully just above my pubic bone - Gambit was already crouching before me, God help me if his face had gone any lower.

Although, from the utterly lascivious way he was gazing up at me, his hands curling around my ass and thighs, I was already in for a lot of trouble.

"Magnifique..." Gambit purred, nuzzling into the black shorts I wore specifically under the suit.

"Enjoying yourself down there?"

"Always, chère." Came his reply, his gaze homing in my underwear to the point I could almost see the gears turning behind his eyes, absently pulling his gloves off and dropping them to the floor. "Though maybe we could see 'bout gettin' you outta these too..."

"Ah, how about we don't do that." My hand came down on his head, gripping a tuft of his brunette hair warningly. "At least not here. Maybe in the showers a little later."

"Gonna hold ya to dat, mon amie." He grinned cheekily up at me.

"Of course you are, Cajun." I giggled, ruffling his hair affectionately.

"Now, let's see here..." He murmured, attention shifting back to his scheme.

Gambit began pressing feather-light kisses up my body as he worked up to my breasts, now bare calloused hands slipping under my suit to caress me. When he reached my sports bra, he carefully took the bottom between his teeth and tugged it up and over, exposing my breasts to his eager mouth and hands.

"Really taking the 'taking my clothes off with your teeth' to heart, I see." I teased, helping pull the bra up a little further to make sure it would stay in place.

"You say dat like it not gettin' ya hot under de collar too, chère." Gambit rumbled, tucking his head in the valley between them, pausing to enjoy my heart beating fast under his ear.

He pressed a kiss there, before wasting no more time, shifting his attentions to my breasts in earnest. I groaned, rolling my head back against the metal wall, letting my eyes flutter closed. With his mouth on one and a hand on the other, I let bliss wash over me, the world outside this room fluttering away.

Gambit crooned sweet nothings against my skin between his ministrations, swirling his tongue around my nipple before switching sides. I moaned softly, enjoying this soft yet sensual moment, heat pooling between my legs.

"Ohh, chérie..." He purred, very gently nipping at the soft skin, his other hand beginning to wander along my ribs and under my suit.

"Gambit..." I said softly, almost absent-mindedly. "Where's that hand going?"

"Patience, chère." He hummed. "You'll find out soon enough."

That hand slid down my back whilst he continued to play with my breasts, sneaking beneath my shorts to cup my ass. He squeezed it appreciatively, and revelled in my contented grunt. Much to my surprise, Gambit didn't linger there - his hand moved on, around my hip and-

Ah. I see.

I felt Gambit's devilish grin just as his fingers slid down and under me, a gasp escaping me as they brushed over that sensitive bundle of nerves there.

"Well well well," he crooned wickedly, "looks like you been enjoying dis every bit as much as Gambit." He leered up at me from between my breasts, lazily circling my clit with his fingertip, dipping occasionally towards my entrance.

I opened my mouth to retort, to justify myself...but nothing came out, only the rising hot realization that yes, I was just as much into this as he clearly was. His knowing grin only widened.

"Twat." I said instead.

"Hmm?" Gambit hummed. "Didn't quite hear dat, chère. Gonna have to speak up."

I narrowed my eyes, and opened my mouth to clearly enunciate what I thought of his shenanigans, but no sooner had the first syllable started to shape itself in my mouth, his finger connected firmly with my clit. I'm not quite sure what noise I exactly made, but it was definitely a moan of some description, quickly submerged by more as he rolled that bud under his fingertip. Pure bolts of pleasure shot through me, and curled tightly deep in my pelvis, lifting my hips.

"Ah, Gambit...!" I groaned, twisting my fingers more into his hair, tugging some free out of his headpiece. His laugh was pure, delicious evil as he rose up to standing, lips brushing against my ear.

"Dat's more like it, chérie." He purred, his deep voice like hot liquid gold that oozed down my spine. "Sing for Gambit..."

A part of me wanted to bite back, parry and riposte. But it was so hard to do that when Gambit started kissing my neck, still palming my petite breasts with one hand whilst the other continued teasing moans and other pleasured cries from me, coaxing my hips to rock with the motions.

"Really puttin' on a show for Gambit now, aren'tcha?" He murmured, fingers dancing close to my entrance, suggesting. Teasing. "Gambit can't wait to get ya in de showers, chère." He ground his own hips against me - despite his armour, I could feel his hard length straining for freedom. I shuddered with delight.

"Why not...now?" I managed breathlessly, through my pleasure-fogged mind.

"And leave mon ombre adrift?" He raised an eyebrow at me. "Non. Gambit gonna give her what she deserves first."

And with that, his fingers sunk into me - a groan of relief and euphoria rolled off my tongue, my back arching. As careful as always, Gambit paused to let me adapt, gently scissoring his fingers to stretch my walls.

Only when I tenderly rubbed his head did he begin his ministrations in earnest, stroking and pumping in and out of me, his other hand still playing with my breasts. I arched my back again, moaning luxuriously into his ear, making Gambit shiver with delight.

"Ohh, chérie...!" He breathed, grinding his hips against my own. I rolled mine to meet his, pressing against his arousal, and his groan was music to my ears.

Gambit rewarded me with a quick bite of my neck, revelling in my gasp and running his tongue over the now tender area.

That familiar hot coil was winding tight at the base of my spine again, the sheer onslaught of sensations and pleasure making my head spin. Only Gambit pressed against me kept me tethered to reality, to what he was doing to me. Where anyone could just walk in and see us...Or at least, the fact something was happening behind Gambit's large frame and trench-coat.

Tension began to build within me, starting from my pelvis and spreading through me, down my legs and up my chest.

"Remy," I gasped in his ear, "I'm nearly there! Please!"

"Bien sûr, chérie." He murmured in my ear. "Gambit's got you. Jus' relax. Let it take you." His voice became a whisper, a seductive temptation. "Come for Gambit, mon ombre."

The coil constricted, almost too much to bear. And then his thumb pressed hard into my clit, snapping the coil completely. Gambit kissed me quickly to catch my loud cry of ecstasy as pure pleasure roared through my body, lighting me up like a beacon as my powers flared, multiplying every sensation thrumming through me. A hard squeeze of my breast kept me from accidentally passing into Gambit's body, and his motions slowed, helping me ride through the aftershocks.

My knees started trembling with the effort of holding me up, and Gambit wrapped an arm around my waist, taking my weight against him whilst he whispered sweet praises in my ear.

"So gorgeous, ma chère. Always so beautiful when you come. Gambit so lucky to have you."

My eyes flickered open, offering him a dopey smile. His smile back was so fond and adoring I swore my heart did a somersault in my chest.

"So...everything you dreamed of?" I asked when words returned to me, stroking his hair. Gambit chuckled.

"Perfection, chère." He grinned as he slowly withdrew his fingers from me, holding them up to the light. "Looks like ya made a bit of a mess, mon amie..." He purred lowly. "Gonna have to clean you up."

I slapped a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back.

"You can do that in the showers." I said sternly, trying to straighten my back to my full height.

"Oui, madame!" Gambit replied cheerily, sweeping an arm under my legs to pick me up nigh effortlessly. "Let's continue dis dere."

I leant into his body and under his coat to hide my state of undress as he set off, uttering a long-suffering but affectionate sigh.

"What I am going to do with you, Cajun?"

He laughed, a beautiful throaty sound.

"Keep me close, chère?"

I smiled, tucking my head under his chin.

"Always."

#sprs writing #x men #gambit #remy lebeau #x men oc: shadow #oc/canon #shadow/gambit #self insert #smut #slow burn #banter #first person POV #self insert x canon #self insert/canon #x men gambit #self ship #otp: heart of cards

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inxamista · 5 months

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Okay now, imma gonna rant a bunch about x-men 97, Gambit, lazy writing and the culture of "plot twists and shock value" to engage the audience in a show.

So, yeah, spoilers ahead, proceed with caution, etc.

First and foremost: Gambit DID NOT HAVE TO DIE to put Rogue in a spotlight. Actually, this is the whole "Wanda and Vision" story and an actually shitty trope of "the woman who overcomes herself through grief and denial of her love (and, at some degree, her womanhood). Like, it's been done a fucking lot of times already and in each and every new try it just gets stale to me. Now we'll have Rogue grieving and suffering and raging until she overcomes this *bad feelings* and finds her center, sublimating the loss of her one true love. At the top of my head I can tell at least three women heros (and anti-heros) with the same bullcrap background.

Second: Gambit is, and always have been, a fan favorite. Back in the day, he even had his own monthly title with very interesting story arcs. So, killing off *Gambit* has a weight. It has the "WOW! PLOT TWIST!" effect to the show. Like, "oh, game of thrones!" kinda show, "no one is safe" and blah blah blah. Which grants a show buzz, clout and engagement. Look at us: they've killed Gambit two weeks ago and here we are, raging at that, so mission accomplished. Lazy as fuck, but effective, right?

And last, but not least: it's been said by the showrruners themselves that "an important character would die in the 5th episode" (just as mentioned before, quod erst demonstrandum and all) but they were debating who this character would be and weighing their options. And - oh, snap! - they've decided to kill off the Thief Cajun with a no-so-family-friendly backstory. You know, Disney being Disney.

So, yeah. I was stoked to see the X-men again, back in their old glory from my early days and all, but then again, this one show don't seem to me to make those beloved characters of old me justice. It's the times we live in, perhaps.

Gambit is a complex character that goes WAY BEYOND his relationship with Rogue. So is Rogue. But I genuinely think a Disney show won't touch Rogue’s terrorist past, her inner conflicts and debates in a way that will make her real justice. And, about Gambit, they won't even BEGIN to make him justice if being Rogue's love interest and occasional comic relief is all they have in store for him bc his backstory as a thief with shady connections with Sinister and Marauders is off limits.

Maybe he's better off dead on that.

#x men #x men 97 #gambit #remy lebeau #disney being disney #have to keep the show family friendly and safe for kids right #thieving cajuns dont stand for that #I'm gonna go back to my comics and fics now #spoilers #x men 98 spoilers

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sanyu-thewitch05 · 4 months

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Twst Black! F! Yuu headcanons and scenarios because I’m doing my hair tomorrow:

In the spring and summer, you best bet that Yuu, Sam, and Leona are going downtown for some crab, seafood, potatoes, and corn to make a seafood boil.

And you bet they’re bringing Sam’s homemade Creole seasoning too.

Sam is Creole, I don’t care, I don’t care, that man is Creole to me.

Honestly, I imagine the main characters of the princess and the frog to be either be Creole and Cajun.

Charlotte and her family are Cajun

Tiana(this one is confirmed and even implied by having a Creole black woman write her upcoming series), Dr.Facilier, and Mama Odie are Black Creoles.

But anyway, their seafood boils-best in town.

Which is why Malleus tries outdo them. Mainly because Leona is involved.

Unfortunately, Malleus is the epitome of white boy.

He doesn’t use seasonings

His meat is as pink and pale as his skin

He cries from the spiciness if anything other than salt and pepper is used on his food.

So when he makes his seafood boil, the most colorful thing in that pot is the crab and shrimp.

🐉:“Child of man, look at my boil of seafood! Surely it’s better than Leona’s.”

One bite and you taste nothing.

🦐:“Malleus, where’s the flavor?” Yuu asks, chewing on crab meat.

🐉:“Such delicacies as this don’t need seasonings. The raw flavor of the meat shall surely bring your tastebuds delight.”

🦐:“Malleus, if you wanna be my lover, you need to learn how to cook with some seasonings. At least some seasoned salt.”

🐉:😀

🦐: “Yeah”

Yuu leaves and Malleus is left astonished. Not only at the rejection but at the acknowledgement of his obvious crush on Yuu.

“Poor Tink Tink,” Sam snickers, walking away with Yuu.

Leona needed to say no words as his smile was enough to send Malleus into a loud fury.

🐉:“How dare that snide lion move his mouth in that manner to MOCK ME!!!!!”

Hurricane season at the island suddenly arrives.

Trees are blowing. Hail is falling. And Yuu is chilling with Leona and Sam in Ramshackle.

Meanwhile, Malleus, in his rage, plans to impress Yuu in a display of cultural connection.

More like an attempt really.

Malleus is outside Ramshackle singing and dancing to the non-existent Mrs. Jackson in the sunlight.

🐉: “Mrs. Jackson, I’m sorry. I’m sorry Mrs. Jackson!”

The end result is this for everyone inside Ramshackle hearing and seeing this:

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #malleus draconia #leona kingscholar #twst sam #black! yuu #twst yuu #twst headcanons

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theweirdone06 · 5 months

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youtube

I think the Cajun left his Raging in the will.

#xmen the animated series #remy lebeau #rogue #x men gambit #x men rogue #gambit #x men 97 #Youtube

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cookiesandcosplay · 4 months

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So! I Found an AU suggestion and this is the result. Inspired by the post linked, please feel free to give any feedback or comments.

Word count: 1.3k

Trigger warnings are in the tags!

@thecoolkids-things @genocidecomics

Too many. So many…

Remy LeBeau had fought everything he could, pulled children from the wreckage of splintered buildings. Grotesque infrastructure mangled and broken as the vile metallic beast tears through the once safe haven that was once Genosha.

Streets once filled with music and beauty, now ran red with bloodied rubble and bodies.

Horror. The smell of death. The sound of screeching beams filling the air. As he moved to take down the Sentinel, seeing it take off towards the gardens, Gambit pulled his trusty bow-staff from his pocket, a poorly planned plan sprouting to his mind. A kinetic surge. Shock the damn thing from the inside, take out the belly of the beast and it’ll drop where it stands.

His beloved Southern Belle had already taken a blow, Magneto eliminated before her very eyes as she was rooted to the spot by a cage of the old man’s own design. He can imagine it felt like hell. Seeing the closest thing to love torn away from you in a flash… It had broken him, watching her be wrenched from him during the dance at the gala. Even if she wasn’t his to lose, even if she’d already told him that he was just the Swamp Rat waiting in the wings? Watching as she glided through the air, bare skin brushing against the hands of the Germanic old fool. It’d broken him. Hurt him on the deepest of levels. He’d never held her like that, now it seemed he never would.

Even if he had expected the pain, it didn’t make it any easier to accept. He wasn’t ready, doubtful really that he ever would be.

Since the tortuous visions courtesy of Mr Sinister back at the mansion, LeBeau had had his fears. His doubts. His outright heartbreaking paranoia. But that all paled in comparison to the hearing the way Rogue saw him. A man who could never touch her. Not in the way she felt mattered. Not in the way she wanted. Needed. His heart had shattered as she made her admissions in his room. Speaking about how he was never going to light her up the way he brightened the rest of the world. That his touch was able to light up everything around him, but not her.

But even now, he’d lay down his life to keep her safe, a Devil’s Advocate. The truest gambit that may not pay off on his end… But the surviving mutants would be safe. She would be safe. Rogue is laid somewhere east, knocked out of flight (hopefully consciousness) from the charged motorcycle he’d launched into her to prevent what was essentially a suicide attempt in a rage filled move of vengeance.

He had no wish to die, but Hell… If he had to go, he’d sue better than the thieving swamp rat he was always seen to be. As he steels his gaze upon the vile kaiju creature that moves for the distance, taking a final millisecond to appreciate that she won’t see him suffer. Closing his eyes for a moment more, obsidian and ruby eyes fall closed for a brief moment, the Cajun taking a final breath as he coils himself to run. “Gambit ain’t got a chance… but the rest ah ya do. Content qu'elle ne soit pas réveillée pour voir ça.” The words meant for no one but himself. Muscular legs move to spring forward.

Until a hand grasps his arm, turning him away from the metallic monster with force. Sections of reddish brown hair and stark snowy bangs falling from the intricate braided bun that had once contained the curly manic locks. Emerald eyes shine with tears, as her body floats before him. The tattered red dress and running eyeliner may have seemed imperfect, but only showed the ferocity and tenacity that embedded her spirit. “Rogue no, Cher, I—“ The words are cut short, broken by lips against his. Heady, desperate as he feels a weakness in his body, gentle warm hands cupping his jawline to steady him as the strength starts to leave his body. The glow that once surrounded his staff begins to fade, a groan leaking into Rogues mouth as his wide eyes fall closed. His body starts to droop, falling into a state of weariness.

Releasing his jaw, Remy falls to the ground, the knees of his white suit trousers scuffed in the dirt. “Sorry Sugah… But this is how it has to happen. You light up everythin’ you touch. Even me.” Her body rises in the air, a heavy pink glow surrounding her as she looks down at the Cajun. A deep black seems to flash in her eyes for a moment, the darkness alight with a loving silence. An apology that she prays Remy can recognise. For the slightest moment she meets his gaze with a weak smile, only to whoosh away again, grabbing rubble and tossing it with the kinetic charge to draw the threats attention.

The shriek of green energy beams follow her, the Southern Belle weaving and bobbing around each ray. As a kinetic charge breaks a large crack in the Sentinel, she rushes forward, gritting her teeth as she generates the heavy kinetic field around herself. Her skin is on fire, her bones ache, her blood is boiling and her muscles are starting to seperate. Her voice is weak, the vibration of her vocal cords causing her more pain than breathing as she pushes on. “Ah feel you, Sugah, ah feel you!”

With a final push, Rogue breaks through the large crack burying herself in the swarm of wires and metallic veins inside the shell. A rasping brutal scream fills the air as the terminal blow leaves her body. Fingers wrapped around metal tendrils, limbs tangled in the wires and leads.

A bleeding pink glow envelopes the night sky, a mushroom cloud of Sentinel shrapnel spreading across the sky. LeBeau watching from the ground, he’s sick to his stomach, soundless, left in a state of shock. His fingers dig into the dirt, gripping as his head drops for a moment, he’s on all fours. Trying to muster the strength to recognise what he’s just seen. Sweat beading on his brow, blood streaking from his nose under the duress. Eyes clenched shut, he grits his teeth, jaw straining until a breath is finally released, a scream filling the air. “Rogue!” The scream is guttural, he can taste the metallic tang of blood as he howls.

Clutching at the bow staff again, he pulls himself to his feet, stumbling as he tries to run towards the gaping hole in the street. Adrenaline coursing through him, the drained energy not enough to hold him back as he sees a deep drop in the pavement. He throws himself into the hole, soot and dirt streaking the white suit as he skids the bowl-like drop. Hitting the bottom, there’s a limp body sprawled in the dust. Red fabric, singed and messy hair framing a face with blood streaming from her ears and lips.

“No… no, Cher no.” The words are weak as he crawls to the form, pulling away the lingering shards of metal tendrils, throwing them away as he pulls her body into his lap with no hesitation. A shaking hand supports her head, the other taking her hand.

Sobs rattle in his chest, his breaths shallow, almost wet as blood clings to his throat. Her chest unmoving, her emerald eyes closed as small sections of hair smoulder, pale skin marred by charcoal and bloody scrapes. The hand holding hers traces gentle circles on her palm, pulling it against his cheek. Her fingers are limp, unmoving, pale as the blood no longer circulates.

Desperately he holds the hand tight against his face. Whimpering words the only sound that fill the air as survivors step closer to the pit.

“S’okay, cher. Gambit’s gotchu. He ain’t lettin’ go. Gambit’s gotchu.”

#mun stuff #fiction #mun creation #Romy #x men 97 #alternate universe #tw: death #tw: violence #tw: suicide #tw: blood #tw: body horror #tw: angst #tw: long post #fanfic #x men 97 au #remember it

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