An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Movieverse)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Remy LeBeau/Darcy Lewis
Characters: Darcy Lewis, Remy LeBeau
Additional Tags: One Shot, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, Rescue, Huddling For Warmth, Established Relationship
Summary:
Darcy knew the second the icy wind hit her face that she’d made a huge mistake.
Of course, she supposed the mistake of not bringing a heavier jacket paled in comparison to the mistake of allowing herself to be captured.
Bowie purred in her lap, pausing in his reverie to look up at her with those big green eyes of his.
“It’s sleeting,” she explained to her cat. “Sleet, which is a mix of snow and rain. Garbage weather, in my opinion.” She wrinkled her nose and scratched his head.
He made a little mrrrp sound and she nodded. “I know. You’re right. At least we don’t have to go out in it.”
It was almost Christmas and that meant she’d been in self-isolation for approximately forty-five years.
No.
Both the calendar and Jane assured her it had only been eight months.
Eight fucking months without seeing anyone in person and only talking to her boyfriend on zoom.
And that hadn’t even been happening all that much lately because he was on call constantly due to the fact that a global pandemic was the perfect time for villainous organizations to start in on their bullshit twenty-four-seven. She’d done her fair share of remote hacking for the X-Men, for the Avengers, for Janey, and for all intents and purposes, no one seemed to care about the pandemic or allowing it to slow them down. Nothing had changed.
Except for her stupid chronic illness, the meds for which made her more susceptible to long term health issues and death due to Covid, so she had been getting her fit-bit steps up and down her hallway instead of going to the park. She’d invested a large percentage of her paycheck on ebooks, and had gotten really fucking good at making sourdough.
She’d also taught herself the ukelele, and baked along with a series of the Great British Baking Show.
And now it was almost Christmas and they weren’t any closer to lowering infection rates because of dumb asses, and she was about to pull her hair out.
Her phone buzzed and she picked it up, realizing it was a FaceTime from Remy only seconds before answering anyway.
She had her hair in a high bun on top of her head and she hadn’t had pants on in days.
Not that it mattered or anything.
“Hey!” she said, grinning widely. “What’s up, babe?”
“Not much, just driving in some truly awful weather... traffic’s at a standstill, and I wanted to see how you were?”
“Good,” she said with a nod. “I got doordash again this morning and I left a humungous tip for my dasher.”
He smiled. “How are you really?”
“Missing the touch of any fucking person, really, but the touch of a man would be amazeballs.”
He chuckled. “Well, I meant to surprise you, but...” He turned the phone around to show out the windshield. There was a line of cars in front of him, sure. But she recognized the grocery store where she got her deliveries from. Which meant he was...
“Are you like... nearby?” she asked, her voice squeaking a little.
He turned the phone back around and grinned. “I’m about ten minutes away if the traffic would start moving.”
“Are you... how are we... are you gonna stand outside and I’ll put my hand up to the window or...”
“I’ve been quarantining for two weeks,” he said proudly. “And I’m happy to report, that I have a clean bill of health and six weeks of vacation time left. I want to spend it with you.”
“Are you fucking serious?” she asked, jumping to her feet and dashing to the bedroom.
“I’m serious... are you running somewhere?”
“Yeah, I have to... uh... change clothes real quick. I’ll see you in a few?”
“Oh, yeah, definitely. Love you, Darcy.”’
“Love you, Remy!” she ended the session and turned around three times in place before reaching for her dresser.
Her hair couldn’t be helped. And neither could her pile of laundry. But she could at least put on some pants for her man.
The gift was beautifully wrapped. Shiny gold paper with silver ribbons curled just so.
And it had been sitting on the countertop since he’d arrived.
Darcy wasn’t sure if it was tacky to ask or not. Maybe it wasn’t for her. Maybe it was for... someone else. Or whatever. She pressed her lips together and tried to concentrate on the screen. She felt rather than heard Remy chuckle beside her.
“If you want to ask, you should just ask, cher.”
“I don’t want to assume anything.”
“Assume away, Darcy,” he said softly, his voice getting that low, gravelly quality that she really loved.
“Really?” she asked, turning to lock eyes with him. His flashed red and mischievous.
He nodded, and she took a deep breath.
Here goes nothing.
“Is that for me?” she asked.
He grinned. “Yes. Of course, it is. Would you like to open it?” He sounded a bit eager, and while Darcy really wanted to open the gift, she grinned and shook her head.
“I can wait.”
“What if I can’t?”
“Maybe learn that good things come to those who wait?”
“They also come in small packages, but we’ll do yours first. I’m nothing if not a gentleman.”
She leaned over to press her lips softly to his. “You want me to open it?”
“Yes,” he breathed. “Please?”
“Absolutely. Hand it to me.”
He practically ran over to grab the gift from the counter and she couldn’t help but laugh when he brought it back, sitting back while she pulled off the paper and revealed a small white box. Inside, was a pendant. Not a heart. Not a star. Nothing tacky like that.
Instead, an atomic structure glistened back at her. From the looks of it, it was a neon atom, or at least, a very accurate likeness of one made from sterling silver and various gemstones.
“Neon,” she said slowly, peering down at the odd little pendant. “Oh, because of how we met?” That was a story for the ages if there ever was one. It involved a neon sign and a filthy barroom floor that they both fell down upon at nearly the same moment. It was like...
Well, she didn’t believe in love at first sight, but it was like... lust at first sight.
He grinned and nodded. “You said you didn’t like heart-shaped jewelry, but wouldn’t mind it if it had a meaning?”
“Did you have this specially made?’ she asked.
He nodded proudly.
She leaned over to kiss him. “You’re too good for me.”
“Not possible, cher,” he murmured, returning the kiss.
for @greennonmonster
354 words
Rated T
Wearing silver to punish your vampire S.O
~~~~~~~~~~
Darcy knew he’d be rising for the night soon, and she made absolutely certain her shirt was straight, all wrinkles smoothed out as she took a sip from her iced tea and pretended to read on her phone.
There was a rush of air as he appeared at her side, “Cher, I promise---“ And then he leapt backwards, hissing loudly as he practically climbed the wall to get away from her. “What is that?” he asked, shuddering, but not in the usual way he did around her.
Darcy yawned and put her phone down, acting very much like he’d put her out by making her explain.
“It’s my new shirt. It’s designer... sort of rude of you to hate it so vocally. I thought it looked nice on me...”
“Darcy, you know I love the way everything looks on you, but why is it so...” He covered his mouth and gagged. “I thought I was through with that feelin’...”
She sighed. “It’s sewn with silver thread.”
“Darcy,” he chastised. “Cher---“
“It’s your fault. This is what you get when you give me the silent treatment, Remy LeBeau.”
If he was capable of changing color at all, he would have blanched, but as it was, he only managed for the look of a contrite cat in the corner of a shower. “That was slightly uncalled for, I’ll admit...”
“Slightly uncalled for? Look. Just because you ‘claimed’ me doesn’t mean you get to make any decisions for me, LeBeau. I’ll work anywhere I please.”
“Even with a boss who’s a goddamned animal?” he asked. “I could get you a---“
“I know he’s garbage, but I gotta do this my way. You have to know that about me. So... I’ll take this off, but only if you promise not to intervene on my behalf again.”
“He was shakin’ in his boots, though,” Remy grinned, and Darcy had to chuckle at the image.
“Remy...”
“I promise,” he said. “Now take it off? Burn it? Please?”
She slid the shirt over her head and tossed it across the room, only to be treated to a lapful of Cajun vampire.
for @evolution-of-magic
229 words
Rated M (under cut)
I can’t resist you
~~~~~~~~~~
“I can’t resist you, cher...” His skin felt burning hot against hers, but Darcy liked it. The air was chilly, and his hand was rucking up her top. She was out of breath from running, but her heart was racing and she swore she could feel her pulse thrumming all over her entire body.
He’d just shifted, so he wasn’t out of breath at all. He was absolutely naked, though. And that thought thrilled her more than a little.
The sliver of a moon barely gave off any light, but they didn’t need it. Remy could see better in the dark than her, and he knew where they were. Judging by the claw marks on the tree, he’d been here before.
His other arm wound around her other side, fingers going for the buttons on her blouse as he stepped up closer to her. Nuzzling against her throat, he inhaled deeply like he couldn’t get enough.
The more he pressed against her, the more she leaned forward, until she had her hands pressed against the tree in front of her.
He had her blouse unbuttoned as he slowly lowered them to the ground, pine needles and twigs poking her knees as he flipped up her skirt.
“You’re sure?“ he murmured, his hand smoothing over her panties.
She nodded rapidly and groaned when he slid them down over her hips.
for @darcygirl
202 words
Rated T
I’m not sure why I’m unable to hypnotize you
~~~~~~~~~~
“I’m not sure why I’m unable to hypnotize you...” Darcy practically purred as she kept her gaze locked on his. “Something to do with those eyes of yours, maybe?”
“Or maybe you just can’t bullshit a bullshitter?” he offered, shrugging and giving her a smirk that would have made her belly swoop once upon a time. But that was before she was turned.
“That what you are, LeBeau? Because I thought you were a member of the X-Men, but I guess I could be wrong.”
“You can be two things, cher,” he chuckled. “Like you, for instance. You feel cool to the touch, but I’m pretty sure you could burn me up if I let you.”
“Wanna let me?” she asked, grinning as her fangs popped down.
“Maybe...” he said, eyes lingering on her mouth. “Think I might like it.”
“You will,” she whispered.
He snorted and rolled his eyes. “I’m sure I would. But I done told you that wasn’t gonna work on me, darlin’.”
“Can’t blame a girl for trying,’ she said with a flip of her hair.
She really liked the sound of his laugh. Which was a good thing, because he did a lot of it around her.
for @vlietfooted
Darcy Lewis/Remy LeBeau
Rated T
765 words
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Holy shit, it’s hot!” Darcy’s hands fanned her face ineffectually. Her eyes were watering, but she knew better than to drink anything that wasn’t milk. “Milk,” she pointed to the glass near Remy’s elbow.
“It’s not that bad is it?” Remy asked, his eyes twinkling as he slid the glass towards her.
“It is that bad, I’m a wimp, can’t take the heat,” Darcy gulped down the milk and pushed her bowl of ghost pepper chili away from her. The milk actually did little to help the burning, and Remy was chuckling and flagging down the waiter, asking for something. The check probably.
“Asked for ice cream, chere. That’ll help.”
“God, I’m sorry,” her cheeks were flaming red and only like seventy percent of that was because of the peppers.
“Hey, don’t be. I’m not. Best time I’ve had out in a while, Darcy.”
She would have rolled her eyes, but it hurt too much. “I bet.”
“It is,” he insisted.
The waiter brought the ice cream, apparently with a little hustle in his step because Remy had just asked for it. She shoveled it into her mouth and sighed as the burn started to ease. Either that or she’d shocked her mouth to the point that she’d killed all the pain receptors. Whatever. She’d take it.
Darcy reached for her purse while Remy went up to pay and groaned when she pulled out her mirror. All her careful winged eyeliner was running down her cheeks and her eyes looked like she’d just smoked a ton of pot. Jesus H. Christ. She looked awful.
She took a deep breath and fumbled around for a tissue to dab at her eyes. She’d sort of been hoping to take things to the next level tonight but that dream had flown out the window the second she’d taken that ill-advised bite of hell on earth from a quick-service restaurant.
“You ready?” Remy asked, offering his hand and she took it, trying not to think about how warm it was.
“Yeah, I guess I should probably head home…” she began.
“You gonna fix your eyeliner? I like it better that way,” he grinned and she couldn’t help but return it.
“No, I was just going to call it and go home, actually,” she said, pressing her lips together and pulling her purse up on her shoulder even though it hadn’t slipped.
“You feeling bad?” His hand automatically went to her forehead and she almost laughed, but his face was so serious, it felt like the wrong reaction. “You ate more of that than I thought, you.”
The corner of her mouth tugged up regardless. “No, I just…” She shook her head and sighed. “I just--”
“Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed, chere.”
“Well that goes without saying, I usually am. But I figure I embarrassed you.”
He snorted. “Nah, don’t even worry none about that. There’s a reason I don’t eat that stuff very often.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I end up looking like I spent too much time out in the sun. Red as a crawdad.” He laughed and Darcy did too, pressing her lips together and inhaling sharply when his finger crooked under her chin and tilted her face up slightly so he could look into her eyes. “You do look like you smoked a fat blunt, though.”
“God, Remy,” she groaned, stepping back from him and turning to walk down the sidewalk.
“Where you goin’?” he reached for her hand and laced their fingers, tugging her back towards him. “Don’t get mad, you’re the prettiest stoner I’ve ever seen, you.”
“You,” she echoed, pressing her hand against his chest, and instead of pushing him back, her fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt and she tugged him closer. He came willingly, tilting his head and lowering it so she could catch his lips. The kiss was a bit more lingering than was probably appropriate for a sidewalk, but she didn’t really care. Fuck, he was a good kisser.
She broke it off, breathing hard and looking into his eyes. “You, are a terrible flirt, sir.” She released his shirt and smoothed it before stepping back.
He chuckled. “Considering I just got kissed, I don’t think that’s accurate.” He winked and licked his lips. “You did eat more of that than I thought. You taste spicy, darlin’. Liable to burn a man if he stays put too long.”
“Guess you’ll have to keep moving, then,” she countered.
He smirked. “Now who’s the terrible flirt?”
“Still you,” she teased but didn’t turn away when he kissed her again.
When Remy returns a year after screwing Darcy out of, quite frankly, a lot of money, she's slow to trust him again. Especially after she finds out her curse landed. The news that her curse landed is news to her, because she's not entirely certain how she did it to begin with. But that doesn't matter because she doesn't trust Remy LeBeau as far as she can throw him. And she definitely doesn't still have feelings for him. Nope. Not in the slightest.
