#gambit blurb

“Now you too pretty to be doin’ all this heavy liftin’,” He says once, joining you in stride when you’re carrying a box of textbooks down the hall. Gambit takes the box from you with ease, lifting it onto one shoulder cockily and you smile, tucking your hair behind your ear. “There, can’t let a big ol’ box of books hide the way you wearin’ that dress, can we?”

“Gambit!” You laugh, mildly scandalized as you shyly brush your hands over the front of you, smoothing down your dress and tugging on the sleeves of your little cardigan.

“Jus’ Remy, chérie,” Gambit winks. “Best we be on a first name basis before our first date, non?”

“Our first - are you - I mean…” You face warms and you find yourself biting back a grin at how smoothly he was able to work that in. “I suppose so, yeah.”

“Bon, I’ll see you in the greenhouse tonight.”

You don’t know what to make of him and his dangerous charm at first. You’ve never been one to fall so easily for sweet talk and compliments, but his feel genuine and personal. Like every insecurity is somehow his favorite thing about you. You have doubts at first, yes, but when his soft side begins to bleed out for you, you know he’s serious about you.

The first and second date were sweet, intentionally more personal and private. Gambit made dinner for you during the first date and set up a romantic little table in the greenhouse - with Storm’s permission, of course.

“Ororo allowed you to use the greenhouse?” You asked teasingly as he guides you into your chair.

“Eh bien, bien sûr,” Remy grins as he sits across from you and motions to your thoughtfully plated meal. “Ororo adores Gambit, ma belle. She trust me.” Remy pauses for a moment, studying your face as you look over the meal and he clears his throat. “You trust Gambit, oui?”

“I do.” You tell him honestly, reaching across the table and squeezing his hand affectionately. “I really do.”

The second date was a ride into town to an art gallery displaying one of your favorite artists for a private tour with cocktails. Gambit remembers hearing you mention once that you like impressionists because their paintings feel less constricting. He had intended to look up what that meant so he could impress you later and found that there would be an impressionist exhibit one weekend.

“You’re always so thoughtful, Remy.” You say as he walks you to his vehicle after the private showing, your step swaying slightly from the cocktails, but he never took advantage or even so much as initiated a kiss you didn’t go searching for on your own. You thank him as he opens the passenger door for you and helps you in with a content smile on his face.

“It’s easy when you all I think about, chérie.” He says, making you blush and shake your head incredulously at him.

Tonight, the two of you had just returned from the third date. Gambit had taken you to a jazz lounge where he ordered drinks and appetizers he thought best carried your aura. You kissed through a song, his hands never touching you until you scooted into him, clutching onto his jacket to ground yourself.

During dinner, he fed you from his own fork, watching your lips and your expressions closely as you tried some of his favorites, smiling smugly when you’d let out a moan of satisfaction.

Now, you’re back home at the X-Mansion and saying goodnight, or so you think.

“Can’t believe I get to be the lucky bastard that kiss you goodnight, ma belle.” He murmurs against your lips as he kisses you in the doorway of your bedroom. His hand is holding your jaw carefully, thumb brushing your cheek while the other hand is holding onto the doorframe as if willing himself to not cross the threshold yet.

Your heart is pounding in your throat, your face warm from his sweet words and soft lips. A part of you doesn’t want the night to end yet. “Mm, you’re so good at it too.” You tease quietly, fiddling with the open collar of his black button down as he chuckles.

“Oui?” He asks, his lips moving onto your jaw and down your neck as he moves forward, leading you backwards into your room and softly closing the door behind him with a definitive click. “Let me show you what else ‘m good at.”

It wasn’t your intention to sleep with him so soon into the dating stage. Ideally, you like to wait until the fifth date or so before being sexually active, but you did and you didn’t regret it. Not the way he explored your body with his mouth, not the words of passion exchanged in the heat of the moment, not even when he asked you to be his during and you could barely nod because you were mid-orgasm.

His cock is buried deep as he ruts into you, arms wrapped around your body while he cradles your head. “Trop dulce pour moi,” He whispers against your lips, soaking in every soft gasp and roll of your body as you make out slow and heatedly. His tongue finds yours with every cheeky lick into your mouth, his teeth nipping occasionally, drawing out small moans from you. “But ‘m gon’ keep you anyway, petite.” His thighs keep yours lifted over his as he seeks out your release, thrusting deep again and again, until you’re shaking from overstimulation.

Your legs tremble subtly around his hips, the wet squelching noise where you are both joined makes you shiver. “Rem-y,” You moan softly, voice raw from crying out his name. His glowing eyes find yours, watching you in admiration as you continue to take him like a good girl. “You-You’re so-so deep, baby.”

“Mhm,” Remy nods, pecking your nose and speeding up, his hips rolling continuously into yours like a rough current. “Just where you need it, non?” You nod helplessly as you come on him once again and he groans out in satisfaction, the muscles of his back contract underneath your fingernails as he reaches his own release. “Merde, bébé, j'adore cette chatte.” You manage a shaky laugh, whimpering when he burrows deep and presses his tip against your cervix just before shooting his load into you.

The night carries on more intensely, in different positions, until you are satisfied with the way you’ve claimed each other. As you drift off, Gambit watches over your sleep for more than an hour, smiling fondly at the way you’ve tucked yourself into your sheets while he lays shirtless beside you and your hand rests on his chest, over his heart.

In that hour, his mind went through every logical reason of why it wouldn’t work out between you. He knows he risks heartbreak, he knows you’re young and just finding yourself, but he can’t imagine not being in your life. So he simply decides that he won’t screw it up.

“‘M not known for my subtly, chérie,” He says when you’re both awake the next morning and cuddling before having to start the day. “Or my sainthood.” His fingers are gently trailing up and down your back and you lay half sprawled on top of him. “When I see somethin’ I like,” His finger curls beneath your chin to lift your head towards him and you smile softly. “Well, Gambit known to be persistent.”

“I know, Remy, and I like that,” You say, caressing the stubble on his chin before pecking his lips. Gambit captures you in a deeper kiss, cupping your cheek, making you giggle. “I’m not perfect either, and I’m not scared of how much you might like me because I think I like you more.”

Gambit chuckles and shakes his head, brushing his nose softly against yours. “Non, bébé, you don’t.” He says with all seriousness before he slowly moves over top of you and deepens your kiss.

As the weeks turn to months, you find yourself gravitating towards him without fear, it feels right to be around him. You’re more relaxed and you can tell in the way that your often busy brain finally quiets when he’s taking care of you.

Before Remy, you used to take your breakfast, exchange a polite good morning with everyone, and quietly slip into your own space. Now he cooks breakfast for you and makes your coffee the way you like it so you can spend the first hour of the day together. Before Remy, you’d happily enjoy your hobbies by yourself, hobbies that you now choose to share with him. You want to share your space with Gambit in ways that you never really thought you’d care to share with anyone else.

Your relationship becomes a safe space for Remy as well where he can evolve without judgement. He adores how you see his flaws and choose him regardless, how you guide him onto a better path by example and not scrutiny. You let him open up at his own pace and you give him the opportunity to prove he is the man he wants to be. Especially whenever his past leads others to jump to conclusions about him and his character.

“Cough ‘em up, Gumbo!”

You hear Logan’s rough growl from the war room as you’re approaching for the scheduled briefing on an upcoming mission.

“Gambit ain’ take nothin’ from you!”

You hear Gambit’s defensive tone and you hurry inside the room just in time to see Logan brandishing his claws while Gambit’s hand glows with a charged playing card.

You quickly set your tablet down on the table and step between the two men. “Wait a second!” You say firmly, holding a hand up towards Logan who is ready to pounce while gently lowering Gambit’s arm. “What’s this about?”

“Keys to my bike went missin’, and Cajun here was the last one in there.” Logan says while pointing an accusing finger at your boyfriend.

“Logan, lots of students and staff go in and out of the garage all day. It’s not fair to accuse Remy just because you saw him in there last. Maybe some kid took it on a joyride.” You try to reason, but Logan isn’t budging, and you sigh before turning to Gambit who is keeping his eyes on the Wolverine. “Rem, did you swipe the keys?”

His red-on-black eyes meet yours and he shakes his head, putting his card away before touching your waist gently, his thumb brushing over the thin leather belt cinching your dress. “Non, chérie, I wouldn’t lie to you.”

You give him an amused, unimpressed look before turning back to Logan whose claws have retracted at Gambit’s clearly honest answer. “He wouldn’t lie to me.” You emphasize and Logan just grunts before turning and leaving the war room.

“Merci, petite.” Gambit whispers against your ear, his warm breath fans down the back of your neck, making you blush.

Where you are his shield and his moral compass, he is much softer for you. As a partner, he is attentive and emotionally intelligent in ways that guys just aren’t anymore. You can fall into him at the end of the day without feeling like you’re asking for too much because he literally lives to be your comfort.

“Long day, bébé?” He asks one evening when he comes to find you before dinner, pulling you to stand between his legs as he leans back on your desk. Your hands smooth over the expanse of his firm chest, eyes trailing his sharp jaw and inviting lips, and you give him a playful pout and a nod. Gambit laughs, cooing softly at you while caressing your cheek. “My poor lil school teacher.” His lips touch yours and you smile as you return the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck while his large hands run up and down your back as he holds you close.

“Would you cook us some dinner?” You ask into the kiss, nudging your nose to his, and sweetly looking up at him through your eyelashes.

Gambit’s face lights up and he kisses your forehead, already standing to guide you out of your classroom. He loves to be needed by you, he loves to dote on you, and spoil you. So you let him. “Gambit gon’ make the best shrimp risotto you ever had, chérie.”

And while he’s cooking, he’s refilling your wine glass, and telling you about learning to cook this dish from a Michelin chef he used to sell cocaine to in Paris. You tell him about the time you went bungee jumping with your friends and chickened out at the last minute. The two of you are very different, but it doesn’t dim the spark or heat between you at all. Remy adores the calm steadiness you offer and you enjoy the way he reminds you to live, love, laugh.

“You’ve had such an exciting life, Remy.” You tell him a little later as you feed him some risotto off your plate. His red-on-black eyes shimmer as you gently brush your thumb over the corner of his lips. No one has ever shown Gambit such care. “Almost hard to believe I fit anywhere in that epic of yours.”

“Chérie,” Gambit smiles, leaning in and stealing a kiss before saying, “This life here, with you, is my favorite.”

Oh, bf!remy🥹

Gambit Masterlist

You have heard him talk plenty about the ladies. The ones he dates, the ones he wines and dines, the ones that are a fun distraction. You’ve come to know it as guy talk, some of your friends call it locker room talk. Regardless of what it goes by, you know it when you hear it.

“Little late to be getting back from a lunch date, ain’t it, Gumbo?” Logan asks in an almost knowing manner as he sets your dinner plate in front of you. You are sitting at the kitchen island where you had been chatting with Logan after begging him to make extra of whatever he had cooking up.

Now, however, you’ve fallen quiet as Gambit is strolling into the kitchen, twirling his keys by the ring in a boyish way that makes butterflies bloat your belly. Damn it, even just seeing him walk makes you hot for him.

“Never too late for a little consensual fun, mon ami.” He says with a casual grin, shoving his keys in his pocket and taking an apple while winking at you. “Not exactly chivalrous to rush a lady, y’know?” He tells Logan, angling away from you as if that alone is enough to censor himself. “An’ she had a nice hot pie for ol’ Gambit to sample back at her place.”

As you’re listening, your brows knit together in confusion at the sudden mention of pie. You look down at your plate, chewing slowly as you think about it, and then you realize what he means. Gambit ate a woman out. Your face warms at the thought of his face between your legs when you are suddenly brought back to reality.

“Kid’s sittin’ right there, have some manners.” Logan says to Gambit who simply ruffles your hair in passing with a laugh and says he meant nothin’ by it. You glare reproachfully at Logan for calling you a kid in front of the man you want to fuck.

You find that you like listening to the experience that Gambit has with women and sex. It means he’ll know everything if you and him hook up. He would guide you, show you what feels best, and that thought of being taken care of by him, Lord, does that make you want him worse.

Sometimes you seek Gambit out in private just to see if he would still talk to you that way. Without another guy around, without an audience to play for, just you and him. Just to see if he still thinks of you as a kid or not.

“What’s that mark on your neck, Remy?” You ask one evening when he’s in the kitchen tampering with the espresso machine and you notice the bruise on his neck. Right at the jaw. Small and pinkish, red.

It’s kind of cute.

“Oh, that?” Gambit grins and rubs the spot with two fingers, giving you a knowing look. “That there’s a special typa mark from a special typa friend.”

Your cheeks warm and you bite your bottom lip to stop from smiling, trying to play coy. “How special?”

“Late night special.” He winks and you let out a small giggle, rolling your eyes and continuing.

“What do special friends do late at night that leaves those types of marks?” You press, leaning forward where you’re sitting on the counter and Gambit doesn’t fail to notice the glimmer in your eyes. “Could we be special friends?”

His attention turns to you fully now as the espresso machine slowly wafts the boldly aromatic scent of coffee around the kitchen. Gambit moves towards you slowly, one hand on either side of you, flat on the counter as he surveys your expression. You can feel him sizing you up the way he does an opponent on the field or an unsuspecting lady at the bar.

“You ever kiss a man long enough to make him hungry for you?” He finally asks and you shake your head slowly, lips parted as you try to imagine that kind of heat.

“No, I haven’t.” You say, looking up at him through your lashes and letting out a slow breath as you work up the nerve to say, “But I’d like to.”

Gambit’s red-on-black eyes study you, and you don’t feel nervous. You feel more…thrilled. Thrilled that Remy LeBeau is considering you, contemplating the idea of you and him. “My, ain’t time been kind to you, petite.” He says, softly brushing his knuckles over your cheek before letting his fingers trail down your arm, making you shiver slightly. “All grown up now.”

“You notice me now, huh?” You tease softly and Gambit chuckles.

“I do, I notice,” His eyes darken a little, maybe a trick of the light, and then he adds, “Not sure that’s a good thing for you, bébé.”

That evening the two of you find yourselves alone in the rec room after hours. After making sure the others had dispersed once the chaos of movie night had concluded. You are sitting in his lap, straddling him as you kiss for the first time. One of Gambit’s hands is cupping your jaw, the other resting on your hip while you have your palms flat on his toned chest.

It’s slow at first, a small peck followed by your nervous giggle. A second kiss that he is more intentional with as he plants it firmly, not deterred by knowing that you haven’t been with a man before. Your lips part slowly in anticipation for the next kiss and he takes it, murmuring about you being a quick learner while tilting your jaw up to bring you closer and you hum in delight.

“Just like that, petite. Slow and sweet, like honey.” He whispers, making you blush as he strokes your cheek with his thumb.

“Do I taste like honey?” You ask, your voice unrecognizable to yourself as it comes out sultry and teasing. Lord, this man brings out the dirtiest parts of your character.

“You taste better, chérie.” He murmurs, his lips closing over your bottom one again and this time his tongue peeks out and he licks along the plump skin. “Like a sin.”

The kiss grows hotter. His has your face in his hands, controlling your position as he kisses you. He bites you just once to try it and you gasp softly which makes his cock hard underneath your ass. Tentatively, you start to grind against the hard length in his pants, letting his tongue slip into your mouth.

“That feels funny.” You say, playfully sticking your tongue out just for him to nip it with his teeth too. “Remy!”

“Let me taste you.” He says, grinning when you kiss him again and slide your tongue into his mouth so he can suck on it. The sensation makes you moan and one of his large hands comes to the back of your skull, holding you steady as the kiss intensifies.

His mouth then moves onto your jaw as you break away from him for a breath of air, a soft laugh falls from your lips from the foreign sensation of Gambit marking your skin. The guy that taught you how to ride a bike in the gardens now teaching you how to make out with a guy and you’re so fucking wet. His hands tighten on your waist as if he anticipates you might run from the pleasure and he whispers how good you smell, how perfect you feel in his arms. “Gambit gon’ have a good time playin’ with you, mon ange.” He whispers as he carefully unzips your hoodie a little more and you shiver from anticipation, leaning eagerly into him. His mouth trails down to your collarbone and you sigh as his tongue licks over the skin there.

One of his hands leaves your waist and runs up the front of you, his thumb brushes over your hardened nipple before pressing his palm over your heart, feeling your heartbeat under his skin. “Oh, Remy!” You moan, one hand tangling in his long, auburn hair while the other fists his shirt.

“Si douce et nécessiteuse.” He murmurs, making you whine softly because you don’t understand, but you know he’s saying the right things into your skin. “Wanna be special friends, huh?” He asks, brushing his nose against your sternum and you nod quickly, closing your eyes as you feel his tongue slowly licking back up to your pulse point.

His teeth bite on the spot gently and you tense up a little before shivering as his lips close around the sting and he sucks on your skin. “Oh, fuck,” You moan, the hand in his hair pushing him slightly closer while he keeps his grip tight on your hips. “Yes, yes, that feels so good!”

“Oui, bebe? You like that spot there?” He asks, kissing the base of your neck again and then sucking a little harder to hear you cry out for him.

“Mhm, it’s so hot. I want to feel you do that everywhere.” You confess, tugging impatiently on his large arms, shifting against on his erection in invitation. Remy keeps marking your neck, groaning as he discovers all your sensitive spots for you and leaves behind darkened kiss marks that’ll sit under a pretty sweater like a dirty secret.

As you grind on him, as you make out with the man that once walked you from your bedroom to the kitchen because you were scared of the dark, you can’t but feel triumphant. Especially as you are sitting here in your crush’s lap while he shows you how to kiss, how to create heat between bodies.

You can feel him throbbing faintly against your thigh and he groans, lifting you momentarily to rearrange himself. “Easy there, petite.”

“I don’t mind it.” You tell him, rocking your hips gently again and he chuckles, stopping you while chasing your lips with another kiss. “I want you to be my first, Remy.”

“Glad you don’t scare,” Gambit says against your lips, kissing you softer, showing more restrain than you had expected. “But that’s a mighty quick pace you chasin’.” You blush as he lifts you up, carrying you as you wrap your legs around his waist, and he walks you towards the staircase. “Let Gambit teach you slow.”

The other night, I had this dream where I was making out with some guy who had very strong Remy vibes and this is the concept of that dream with a Gambit twist😅

Part Two

Gambit Masterlist

How he’d order a coffee to start with so he can watch you waltz around the floor with a casual smile and kind eyes because even just waiting tables, you look gorgeous.

Definitely the type to get off on the looks other men give you. The moment one of them tries to touch you, Remy is right there, but seeing the way they want you when he knows they can’t have you, it does something for his ego.

“Ready to order?” You ask a little too cheerfully as you come back to him with an intimate little smile that is shared between the two of you.

“Where can I find you on the menu, ma belle?” He asks, eyes looking over your little black skirt and your neat white polo embroidered with the restaurant’s logo which sits right over your breast.

“Unfortunately, I am spoken for, sir.” You flirt with your boyfriend, trying to sound professional and like you’re not goofing around. “Try the desserts.” You tell him, tapping the back of his menu with your pen, biting back a grin as he flips the menu and browses the list before landing on an item.

“Ah, the tiramisu will have to do if I can’t have a bite of you, petite.” He says while handing you the menu with a wink. You laugh softly, shaking your head as you jot down his order.

“Will that be all?” You ask, flirtatiously leaning a hand on his table and cocking your hip. Remy’s glowing eyes follow the curve of your body and he smirks. His hand comes up to caress your hip and he presses his fingers into your flesh to bring you a step closer.

“You wearin’ panties?” He asks suddenly in a softer tone, leaning back to give your body a once over. Your stomach flips from his forward question because you already know that this ends with you taking them off for him.

“Yes,” You say cautiously, taking a step back and smoothing down your skirt, brushing off his hand gently as you glance over your shoulder to look for your shift manager. “I’m wearing panties.”

“Mm,” Remy’s eyes move up the length of your legs and you bite your lip as his stare is downright objectifying, and it still makes you hot because it’s him. “Why don’ you leave ‘em here with me?”

A soft laugh leaves your lips and you playfully swat your notepad at him. “I’m not doing that!” You say in a hushed, scandalized tone.

“Pourquoi pas, bébé?” He asks with a playful pout that makes you roll your eyes teasingly. “Leave ‘em here wit’ me. I’ll take real good care of ‘em for ya.” He offers as if he’s asking for something as simple as your cellphone number. You hesitate, your face warming at the thought of walking around without panties under your work skirt. Remy’s fingers brush against your knee and you refocus on his eyes. “You can say no, chérie.” He says, squeezing your thigh reassuringly and you nearly melt.

God, if he wasn’t so damn charming, you think to yourself as you slide your pencil into your low bun. “I’ll be back with your order, sir.” You say with a little smirk and Remy leans back in his chair in satisfaction.

After punching the tiramisu into the computer, you slip into the women’s restroom and lock the door. With a deep breath, you slide your panties off under your skirt and step out of them. You quickly stuff the dark green lace material into your apron and exhale softly as you step back out.

The feeling of being so exposed under your skirt makes your legs tremble slightly and you brace yourself against the wall for a moment. “Okay, okay.” You say to yourself as you focus on getting to the kitchen instead of the arousal pooling at your core.

“Tiramisu for your mans, babe.” One of the other waitresses slides the dish towards you at the pass while she waits for her own order.

“Th-thanks.” You smile, taking the dessert plate and grabbing a spoon before leaving the kitchen and heading to Remy’s table.

His eyes are fixed on you the moment you come into his sights. A smug smirk tugs on his lips as he notices the cautionary steps you take towards him. “There you are,” You say, leaning over with your hip angled to shield the sight of you dropping your panties into his lap. “One tiramisu and a pair of panties.” You step back as he balls them up to conceal in his fist and you hand him a spoon. “Anything else, sir?”

“Gimme a spin.” He says smugly and you roll your eyes, turning to leave and spinning once while he groans and blows a kiss at you.

The subtle flare of your skirt sends a thrill up your spine. You continue to work the rest of your shift with the knowledge that your pussy is exposed simply because your man asked for your panties. The more you think about it, how Remy’s sitting at the back seemingly enjoying a coffee and a pastry while your panties are in his hand, it makes you so hot.

Meanwhile, your boyfriend leisurely eats his dessert while he watches you work, loving that he’s the only one that knows your secret. His eyes follow every subtle and careful bend and reach of yours, zeroing in on the hem of your skirt when you gracefully squat down to pick up a dropped pen. You meet his eye line and smirk, knowing he’s waiting for a moment when you might accidentally flash him and the other patrons dining in.

His cock aches from wanting to take you and bend you over the bar right then and there, knowing nothing would get in his way. Remy smugly keeps your panties in his lap, covering them when someone else gets too close, but smirking when you walk by and see him messing with the material under the table.

When you return to refill his coffee, you feel his fingers stroking your knee and you bite your lip as his palm slides up the back of your thigh. “You okay, bebe?” He asks softly and you nod, giving him a reassuring look that you really are. “Bon, let’s see how much you enjoyin’ our little game now.”

His hand moves up the inside of your thigh and his index knuckle softly rubs against your slit, gathering the dampness between your folds. “Remy…” You whisper, your core pulses with want and you lean a hand on his table as he begins to rub your clit. His thumb rolls over your bud slowly and you keep your eyes on him. His gaze moves past you every so often and you know he’s keeping an eye out for your coworkers or anyone appearing too curious. You know he won’t let you be seen this vulnerable by others, and you feel safe to let him take the lead.

“This tiramisu is excellent,” He says in such a casual tone and you just nod along like you’re taking customer feedback and not getting your pussy played with under your skirt. “Real moist an’ sweet.” He adds, one finger slips past your folds and pushes into your entrance.

“I’m s-so glad you l-like it.” You breathe, your hand is holding tightly onto the coffee dispenser and the other trembles on the tabletop as he continues to stimulate your clit with his thumb while fingering you. “C-Can I get you an-anything else?”

Remy’s eyes darken as he watches the way you try so hard to keep your body from trembling with pleasure. “Some more cream for the coffee.”

Your face heats up bashfully from his choice of words and you swallow a gasp as he adds another finger, pressing harder on your clit with his thumb until you’re cumming. Your eyes close tightly as your release pulses through you like a ripple of pleasure relaxing your muscles. Your thighs tremble and Remy quickly slips his hand back out of your skirt and guides you to sit on his thigh. You look around to make sure no one is looking and exhale softly as you compose yourself, resting your head against his shoulder. Remy then brings his fingers to his lips and you watch his tongue flick over them, tasting your arousal in the middle of your workplace.

“Got my dessert after all.” He winks and you grin, shaking your head in disbelief before you continue to finish out your shift so your boyfriend can take you home for the night.

Ahhh🙈 I wouldn’t know how to act if Remy was my man. I’d do anything he told me🤭

Gambit Masterlist

Uncle!Remy who sets you up on the counter in the kitchen and has you lick his fingers, his other hand lightly closed around your neck while your face is growing increasingly warm and your pussy is throbbing with an ache you don’t fully grasp.

“Never thought of your sweet little mouth like this, ma chérie, but now?” He groans as you gag softly on his two fingers as they reach and dip into the back of your throat. “Mon Dieu, I wanna show you everythin’.”

Uncle!Remy who moves your shorts to the side so he can run a wet finger down your folds and feels his cock stir when you whine a soft little, “Uncle Remy,” His red-on-black eyes meets yours as you ask, “This is wrong, isn’t it?”

“Only if you don’t like it, chérie.”

Uncle!Remy who doesn’t see this as wrong, he sees it as just teaching you like he has most of your life, and he watches the way you react to his single digit disappearing into you slowly, coming out wet while his thumb rubs your little clit.

Uncle!Remy who talks you through it like it’s some dinner table conversation, “A man s’posed to take it slow, one finger at a time, not too fast.” He tells you as leans down to spit on your folds. “Fingering is foreplay, petite. He gotta make sure you wet enough ‘fore tryin’ to slip in anythin’ bigger, you hear?”

“Yes, yes, I hear you.” Your mouth is parted as you pant and whine, the feeling of pleasure consuming you when he adds the second finger and you arch into him, gripping tight onto the edge of the kitchen counter.

Uncle!Remy who mildly charges his fingertips as he brushes them against your bud and you jolt from the stimulating shock, looking at him with wide eyes while biting your lip. “Uncle Remy got a magic touch, bébé.” He winks, making you giggle breathlessly.

Uncle!Remy who lets himself get ahead of the game and sinks to his knees so he can get a taste of your sweet, weeping pussy. “Oh, my gosh, Uncle Remy!” Your head lolls back and your chest rises and falls with your erratic breathing as you near your release.

“C’est chatte est si bonne, petite fille,” He groans into you, the vibrations of his voice further stimulating you. His hands keep your thighs pushed apart as his head shakes between them, his tongue lapping desperately at your slit and your sensitive bud until you’re trying to close him out.

Uncle!Remy who slurps up your release, moaning as you squirm from overstimulation in the kitchen where anyone could see him corrupting you, his fingers digging into your thighs as you cry from how good it feels.

As you’re coming down, thighs trembling and still wide open, he stands and kisses you hard, letting you taste yourself on his lips and tongue before taking the biggest step away from you. “We cannot do that again, petite.”

“Okay, Uncle Remy.” You say with a shaky nod and he gently helps you off the counter, watching you slide your bottoms back into place and you give him a flushed smile. “Thanks!”

Uncle!Remy who watches you bound off towards the staircase to go up to your bedroom while he’s left standing in the kitchen, hard as a rock, and wondering how long it will be before he caves and seeks you out again.

Just a little blurb I wanted to get out of my head:3

Gambit Masterlist

Perhaps a heart too young for him to be holding, 18 and a handful of months in life alone, none in experience, and betrothed to a vile man old enough to be her grandfather as if her ownership were simply a fee of peace between ornery, evil men.

Remy had no business flirting with her, but he couldn’t help himself, and by the time he learned that this sweet girl being bashful over the invitation of coffee was a Bordeaux, it was too late. He had already memorized the pigment of her eyes and the hue of her lips as she admitted she might’ve noticed him around before when the Guilds held court.

Their bond was fueled by youthful rebellion and quiet longing for something their own. Remy had snuck in and out of plenty bedroom windows in his life, but none felt like stepping into hers.

And while there was restraint in the beginning, Remy couldn’t help himself when it came to courting a pretty girl. He’d bring flowers, Jean-Luc’s wife’s beignets, a dainty gold necklace he swiped from a boutique’s storefront.

“Remy, you’re going to spoil me.” She had grinned at his reflection in the vanity mirror behind her as he clasped the necklace and made sure it rested delicately beneath the hollow of her throat.

“Bon,” Remy whispered as he turned her to face him and pressed a kiss to the side of flower pendant, nuzzling his nose into her jaw. “Someone ought to, non?”

They sneak around in the French Quarter during the day, her running from her sister who calls out, “Ma petite sœur, where have you gone off to now? Papa and Julien are expecting us back!”

And Remy kisses her anyway, covering her ears as he does so she won’t hear Bella Donna urge her out of hiding, “Rem!” She gasps softly, only mildly scandalized that the Thief would steal a kiss in daylight. “I am promised to another, sir.”

“Non, bèbè,” Remy murmurs with that little smirk that kick starts the butterflies in her belly, “You’re not his, you can’t be,” His lips find hers again, moving softly over to the corner, mouthing against her supple cheek, “Tu es trop dulce pour lui.” He murmurs while kissing down her delicate jawbone and smirking when a soft exhale leaves her throat as he caresses the column lightly. “Your kiss alone would rot out his remaining teeth.”

They silence her giggles and his smug chuckling with another kiss before she insists she must rejoin her sister and their maid. “Will you - can you come again tonight?” She asks with a hopefulness that makes Remy want to be a good man. He confirms with a kiss on her knuckles and sly wink.

And Lord does he want to be a good man for her.

A good man that makes a plan and finds a town on the water somewhere up North for her, for them. A good man that would place a ring on her finger before ever touching her. Remy LeBeau is simply not a good man, he is a thief, a weapon, and a lover.

Her chambers are warm and scented by the flower arrangements she switches out every two weeks from the Bordeaux Estate gardens. Her frame swallowed by a simple, white linen nightdress that Remy has no business noticing the sheerness of, and yet, he does.

“Regardes-Tu, ma petite fille,” His voice is soft and low, practiced from years of cutting it close as he admires her all laid out on her bed like a stolen good. “Mon ange, mon lumière, do you wish his hands on you like this?” He asks while hovering above her, shirtless and his pants undone.

“Non, jamais,” She whispers, biting her lip as his warm, strong hands palm along her thighs and bunch up her nightdress. “I only want you, Rem, please.”

A good man would wait until she wasn’t engaged, but Remy’s not a good man. “C’est a moi, tell me so, ma belle.” He grunts as he enters her, not for the first time, but for the first time tonight.

“C'est vrai,” She gasps softly, her hands shaking from adoration as she clutches onto his shoulders and broad back, bracing herself as he thrusts slow and deep. “It’s yours, I’m yours, Remy!”

His hand curls around the back of her neck as he swallows her cries and makes love to her like her husband-to-be never will. Not as long as there is air in his lungs and rebellion in her heart.

I did use Google translate to confirm these translations, by the way!😂 Let me know if anyone would like to be tagged in Remy LeBeau content and I will happily begin a tag section:)