Remy Lebeau/Gambit x Fem Reader One Shots

"Royal Flush" Part Two

“So, listen closely, because there are only two ways this is gonna go down tonight. One way, you insist on being the imbecile you have been so far and keep arguing, then I will have to waste my time convincing you with a good beating that your parents should have hit you as a disciplinary tactic long, long ago. Or, possibility number two, you leave and no longer disturb the lady and me while we play a decent game of poker, which we’ll be able to finally do once you’re gone. You just go like a good boy. So, what will it be?”

The idiot really tried to argue again, but the stranger just pulled at his arm, just slightly, and within an instant he had changed the other’s mind: “Alright, alright, I’ll go! Geez!”

“A wise decision, my friend.”, the stranger said, and, as the boy stumbled out, muttering profanities under his breath, he muttered, so that you barely caught his words, “Nobody messes with Gambit and his prey.”

Prey? He thought you were prey? That hottie would have to learn his lesson tonight. You almost pitied him. Almost.

“So, Cherie, where were we?”, Gambit, as you now knew he called himself, asked you, and you bit your lip, then suggested, “Weren’t you trying to strip me of my last coin?”

He chuckled at that and murmured: “Not exactly. But I have a proposition to make: What if, instead of stripping each other of coins, we raise the stakes? Play for something else?”

You had an idea where this was going… and why the hell not? You two were alone in the back room, the night was warm, the man was interesting…

“What kind of wager do you have in mind?”, you asked, and with a smile and a gaze so intense it felt like fire, he replied, “Clothes.”

“Strip poker?”, you asked, and when he nodded, licking his lips, you acted as if you had to think about it.

“Hmm…”, you hummed, and that made him lean forward, looking intently at you as he said, “C’mon, Cherie, you look like a lady who isn’t fooled by no one. And Gambit is too much of a gentleman to take advantage. It’ll just be…fun and games.”

Then why did he suggest that game in the first place? You wondered with a lazy smile, but then nodded: “Fine, I’m intrigued. Let’s kick it up a notch.”

“Eh bien soit!”, he chuckled, collected the cards, and began to shuffle, even though the pool from the last game was still there.

“What about the money?”, you asked, honestly confused, and Gambit smiled at you, like a cat ready to pounce, “You take it, Cherie. We’re playing for higher stakes now.”

“No.”, you refused, and for a moment, you had him taken aback with that statement, so you said, truthfully, “So far, we’ve come out almost even. Taking it all wouldn’t be fair.”

“Fair?”, Gambit chuckled and actually stopped shuffling the cards to give you his full attention, “Cherie, all’s fair in Love and War.”

You just raised an eyebrow at him, then you counted the money and divided it evenly between the two of you. Laughing to himself, he resumed dealing the cards and, you both a good deal richer. You started the next game.

It did not take long. You knew when you had lost, so you folded your cards and slipped out of one of your boots, not in the least caring for the other boot.

“Ah ah, Cherie.”, Gambit clicked his tongue, “Shoes are one item. As are socks.”

“They aren’t.”, you objected, “Rules have to be set beforehand.”

At that, he pouted, and with a sigh, you decided to let it go. This time.

His smile returned when you also slipped out of the other boot, wishing for the first time you had not given in to the heat tonight and worn pants and a shirt instead of a flimsy dress. But, as it was too late for that now, anyway, you just continued the game.

You win some, and you lose some. You knew that concept well, and so far, it had gotten you an almost even share of the money gambled over tonight. So you were not worried.

When you lost again, this time removing both your socks, you still were not worried.

But three games later, you had lost your jacket, your bra and your panties, and you were only left with your dress, nothing more. Five lost games in a row.

That was… uncanny.

And your opponent’s poker face was nowhere near as good as it had been all night. When realisation finally hit you, you were already too far into the next game, the one that would cost you your last item of clothing.

“You played me!”, you accused your opponent, and he clicked his tongue again, “What are you saying, Cherie? That I was cheating?”

“Either that or you’re one damn too lucky bastard!”, you replied, and he smiled brightly, removing his hat. Now you could finally see his face properly in the dimly lit room, only lit with a few candles. His eyes really were dark, and within an instant, you knew he was a mutant. But you did not care. The bastard had ripped you off, and you did not care how he had done it.

“Oh, I assure you, I am lucky.”, Gambit replied to your accusation, “After all, I got to enjoy the sight of your beauty all night.”

He was a charmer…and damn it, it worked.

Slowly, he got up and walked around the table until he leaned against it next to you, then he leaned down to you and triumphantly said: “Admit it, Cherie, I’ve won.”