Trick or Treat

Trick or Treat (NC-17)
Disclaimers apply: I own nothing in this fic. Marvel owns the characters and I make NO profit from this being written/posted.


A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies and BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™ is probably going to bludgeon me with a stack of fic for sending her all this stuff one day… ;) This piece of fluff is for “Jubilee,” who wrote me asking for more Remy/Jubes fluff. Ask and ye shall receive….


She hated her costume, plain and simple. Halloween had brought, as it had every year since she had been at Xavier’s Institute for Gifted Youngsters, the Professor’s annual fundraiser ball. The swells mingled with students, no idea that Kurt’s blue fur was not an elaborate costume or that the appropriately cloud-shrouded moon overhead was a product of Storm’s elaborate decorating scheme. Jubilee, usually a huge fan of any occasion that warranted candy, was doing her best to avoid said swells and her friends who seemed to be having the time of their lives, even the usually reticent Sam was enjoying himself, teasing his sister and shooting dark glares at Kurt whenever the German teenager flirted offhand with the blonde Kentucky girl. Jubilee sighed and wedged herself into the small space between the potted palm and the wall, her voluminous skirts rustling and binding around her legs as she did so. Dumb ass…Kurt flirts with everyone. Sam’s been here long enough to know that. No way is he gonna go for Paige when Kitty’s still breathing. She shot a rueful glance at her costume, chosen by the Professor when she could not decide on one herself. It was a massive ball gown, it’s bright yellow color the only concession to her likes, and it was layered with too many petticoats and hoops to count. Chinese Scarlet O’Hara. Fanfuckingtastic. Jubilee looked around the room at everyone, jealous of Kitty’s typical cat costume, complete with a jingle-bell collar, Kurt’s blue self with a pair of wings attached, giving the appearance of a gargoyle, Rogue’s not-surprising vampire get up. Even Logan was dressed up, wearing a tuxedo and half-mask, going as the Phantom of the Opera. The only flaw in his costume was the beer he was holding tightly in one hand, eschewing the cocktail glasses of the others. Everyone gets much cooler costumes. Why’d he pick this crap? The one person she did not want to see her like this, the one person above all others, chose that moment to make an appearance. Remy LeBeau, resident heart throb and general vexation on her soul, eased his way down the stairs from the student quarters, looking around the crowd for her, she knew. “Shit,” she said under her breath, earning a disapproving look from a rather pillow-esque older lady nearby, discussing funding options with Beast and admiring his “costume” at once. “Sorry,” Jubilee mumbled, extricating herself from the hidey hole she had chosen The sheer enormity of the dress made it difficult to move quickly or with much ease, but she managed to weave in and out of the crowd and make it to the kitchen before Remy could reach the rec room, which was done in a sort of dungeon motif complete with spider webs and the sound of clanking chains, thanks to a tape Rogue had found at the dollar store.
“Hey, Scarlet. Want a julep?” Evan snickered, waving a cup of virulent green punch in Jubilee’s direction.
“Well, bless my soul,” she drawled, glaring, “I see someone who wants my foot up their ass!” Evan’s laugh stopped abruptly and he busied himself putting more ice-hands into the punch bowl. “If Remy comes this way, you haven’t seen me!” She hiked her skirts above her knees and dashed out of the kitchen by way of the mud room. The garage was eerily quiet after the din of the party but she did not stop there. Shedding her chipped straw bonnet, replete with a bunch of cherries and flowers, she opened the garage door and took a deep breath of the cold night air before setting off at a hobbled run towards the gazebo. The weather was too cold for many people to be outside, save for a few wandering smokers, and for this Jubilee was grateful. She slowed to an almost dignified pace, letting the skirts fall and drag through the slightly damp grass as she neared the white-painted structure, the thick vines of flowers doing a good job of disguising it in shadows unless one knew to look for it. She could hear the music and laughter of the party behind her, the faint smell of smoke and food barely reaching the gazebo as she sat on one of the benches along the walls, choosing the seat furthest in the shadows. She tucked her legs beneath the skirts and sighed, relieved to be alone.
“You run fast fo’ a gal done up like dat, cherie,” Remy said dryly from across the gazebo.
“Fucking hell!” Jubilee cried, jerking in surprise. “Damn it all, Remy! Make some noise or something!”
“Sorry, chere… I been tinkin’ you could tell I were here…dat thief instinct an’ all.” Remy was smiling, it was evident in his voice, as he slid around the seat, not bothering to stand as he edged to her side. “Why you hidin’ from me, p’tite?”
“I look like a freakin’ wedding cake!” she said. “I hate this costume!”
“So? It jus’ fo’ one night. You be tinkin’ Remy like his outfit, eh?”
She peered at him in the dark and felt a tiny flutter of warmth in her stomach. Somehow, he had managed to evade the costume mandate and was wearing an old-fashioned tuxedo with a waistcoat and a pocketwatch. “You ain’t in a costume.”
“I a river boat gambler,” he sighed, producing a hat from beside him and slapping it on his head. “I feel like a…how you call it…a dork.”
Jubilee snorted. “At least you don’t look like one…This dress weighs more than I do!” she complained.
Remy smirked. “An’ it easy to follow indarkdark, ya know. “
“How’d you know I’d come here?”
“In de stories, de Southern belle always end up in de gazebo wid de rake.” He smiled and slid his arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer to his comforting warmth.
“I’m no belle, Southern or otherwise.”
“Dat what bother you ‘bout dis costume?” he asked, peering down at her. “Dressin’ so girly?”
She tried to act offended but knew that she could not lie to Remy. Miserably, she nodded. “I feel so stupid. I can’t even fucking walk in this thing without tripping over myself. And everyone was making this HUGE deal out of me wearing a dress…”
“You know what such a good ting bout dese dresses, cherie?” His hand fell to her knee and began slowly drawing the fabric of her skirt upwards, exposing inches of her legs to the night air.
“What…what would that be?” She was entranced, shivering slightly as the cold air bit at her legs through her thick stockings, snaking around her knees, now exposed under Remy’s hands.
“All you gotta do is push ‘em outta de way…” He ducked his head to kiss her neck then and she gasped, her hands clutching at his lapels frantically as he found the tiny spots along her jaw and throat that sent signals of hot need directly to her belly. “P’tite,” he whispered after a moment, “I don’ tink dey be missin’ us fo’ a few minutes yet…”
“A few minutes is all?” she teased but it slid into a moan as his hands moved to her back, unfastening hooks and eyes, unlacing the strange underthings that came as part of the costume. “It’s cold!” she yelped as her shoulders then breasts were bared to the night.
“Lemme see what I can do ‘bout dat den…” Remy lifted her easily onto his lap, her knees coming to rest on either side of his thighs as he took one dark peak into his mouth. Jubilee threw her head back in pleasure, her mouth falling open soundlessly as she stared up at the stars peeking through the slats of the gazebo’s roof, Remy’s mouth on her flesh making her writhe against him as he expertly laved and nipped and sucked the sensitive skin. She jumped a little as she felt his hand under her skirts, against her thigh, working it’s way between her legs. His short bark of laughter as he realized that she had on the old fashioned underclothes down to the pantalets made her flush hotly. “You know what else be a good ting bout dis outfit?” She did not answer aloud, merely shuddered as one finger found the split in the cotton , her wet womanhood eager for his touch.
“ink ink I like this costume now,” she breathed as he stroked her where she wanted it the most, her hips rocking involuntarily as she leaned against him, her breasts brushing his mouth as she moved. Remy made a frustrated noise after a moment and stopped his attentions. “What?” she gasped. “Did I do something?”
“Non, cherie…jus…here, stand up…” Remy helped her to her feet and before Jubilee could further question him, turned her so that her back was pressed to him. Bending to whisper in her ear, he murmured, “You got no idea how much I want you right now, Jubilation…”
Jubilee closed her eyes and gulped. “Have me then,” she said just as quietly. Remy sucked in a breath and his hands tightened at her waist for a brief moment before he grabbed at her skirts, pushing her forward as he raised him quickly. Jubilee grabbed onto the post of the gazebo and cried out sharply before she could stop herself as he pushed into her. He paused for a moment and she wiggled impatiently, making him groan before he began moving within her. She did not know if it was the fact they were outside, the fact they were still mostly dressed or just the fact it was Remy doing this tr, br, but Jubilee felt quite weak at the knees as he massaged her breasts, slowly pressing into her before withdrawing nearly entirely. “God, Remy,” she breathed. “That feels so good…”
He slid an arm around her middle and pulled her up slightly, enough to kise bae back of her neck and make her mewl anew as he nibbled there, her center growing even more heated and wet around him as he increased the pace of his attentions. “Shhhh, p’tite…just be here wid me, d’accord? No talkin’…” She nodded somewhat vacantly as he rolled the peak of one breast between his thumb and forefinger, pulling slightly before squeezing the soft flesh gently, repeating the action on the other side. She felt full of him and surrounded by him, all the silly worries about her costume gone as she gave herself over entirely to what he was making her feel. “Cherie, I love you so much, you know dat?” he murmured against her neck as he bent to kiss her again. Jubilee managed to turn her head enough to kiss him, parting his lips with the tip of her tongue, laving his mouth and drawing a moan from him that vibrated against her back. Her release, while not sudden, was faster than she expected. It felt like melting, her knees buckling as she gripped the post she held tightly, pushing back against Remy as she tried to prolong the sensation of falling and burning. Remy pushed hard into her one last time, biting back his own cry of pleasure as he filled her, pouring his release into her and making her shudder at the feeling of heat within her.
“I think,” she said after a moment, “this costume is my favorite outfit now…”