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urdreamydoodles · 3 days

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Hi! First, I would like to say I love your content! It really makes my day. So, I would like to thank you for that! And I would like to request a how they officially got together for the X-Men characters (especially Laura and Wanda. I love them but also I love them all) if that's possible.

X-Men x Reader

How you became official

You have shared close, unspoken feelings with your crush but you're waiting for the relationship to become official. The X-Men—each overcome their personal hesitations, and with deep emotions, they finally commit to the relationship, making your bond official.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Erik Lehnsherr, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Wade Wilson, Rogue, Wanda Maximoff & Laura Kinney

Pleasure is all mine ♡ I am so happy when I hear that people like what I do—like SO HAPPY. Hope you like it! — Love, Marie, your friendly marvel fangirl

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

- The tension between you and Logan had always been palpable. For months, there had been lingering touches, teasing remarks, and stolen glances. You’d even shared a few heated kisses that left both of you breathless. But Logan, true to his nature, was hesitant to fully acknowledge whatever it was that had blossomed between you. He’d always been protective, always watching you with those sharp eyes, making sure no harm came your way, yet he kept his distance emotionally, unsure of what to do with his feelings.

- One evening, after a particularly exhausting mission, you and Logan found yourselves alone at the mansion, both bruised and tired. He insisted on patching you up, even though your injuries were minor. Sitting on the bed, his fingers brushed over your skin as he tended to a small cut on your arm. There was a silence that settled between you, heavier than usual. His hands lingered on your skin a little longer than necessary, and when your eyes met his, the unspoken words hung in the air. He let out a soft sigh, his usual gruff demeanor melting away.

- “I ain’t good at this, darlin’,” Logan finally muttered, running a hand through his tousled hair. “But I can’t keep pretending like you don’t mean everything to me.” His admission caught you by surprise, but it also felt like something you’d been waiting to hear for a long time. You moved closer to him, resting a hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “Then stop pretending,” you whispered softly, leaning in, your lips brushing his. This time, when he kissed you, there was no hesitation, no pulling back. It was real, raw, and full of the emotions he’d been hiding. That night, as he held you close, Logan made it clear that you were his, and he was yours, officially.

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)

- With Remy, it had always been a game of flirtation, a dangerous dance of witty banter and stolen moments. He was a charmer, no doubt, but beneath all the swagger and smirks, you saw the depth of his feelings for you. Over time, the teasing kisses and suggestive comments became something more, something real. You hadn’t put a label on it yet—Remy never liked being tied down to definitions—but there was no denying that you both felt it. He made you feel like the only person in the room, even when surrounded by others. However, despite the intensity, neither of you had ever called yourselves a couple.

- One night, after a long and exhausting mission, the two of you found yourselves alone on the mansion’s rooftop. Remy had brought a bottle of wine, as he often did, and the two of you sat side by side, the cool night air making you both huddle closer. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, and as usual, the easy conversation between you flowed, sprinkled with his usual innuendos. But tonight, there was something different in the air—something heavier, more intimate. He looked at you, his red-on-black eyes softer than usual, his smirk replaced by a more genuine expression.

- “Y’know, cher,” Remy began, swirling the wine in his glass, “I been thinkin’. You an’ me, we’ve been dancin’ ‘round dis thing long enough, non?” You raised an eyebrow, intrigued but unsure of where he was going with this. “And what ‘thing’ are we dancing around, exactly?” you asked, a playful smile tugging at your lips. He leaned in, his lips brushing lightly against your ear as he whispered, “Whatever it is dat makes me think about you every damn day, even when I’m supposed to be focusin’ on somethin’ else.”

- The confession made your heart race, and for once, Remy wasn’t hiding behind his charm or teasing nature. He was being real, vulnerable even. You turned to face him fully, searching his eyes for any hint of hesitation, but all you saw was sincerity. “So, what are we, then?” you asked softly. He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “How ‘bout you be mine, officially?” he suggested, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek. Before you could respond, he kissed you—slow, deep, and full of the emotions he’d kept hidden for so long. When he pulled back, he smiled at you, his thumb brushing against your skin. “Now dat’s official,” he said with a wink, and from that moment, you were his, and he was yours.

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

- Kurt had always been sweet, gentle, and respectful of whatever it was between you. The two of you had shared some deeply intimate moments, though never anything too forward. There were stolen kisses, hand-holding in private, and soft words exchanged when no one else was around. You’d grown incredibly close, and though the connection between you was undeniable, Kurt seemed hesitant to take things further. He’d often expressed his concern about his appearance, about how people saw him, and though you reassured him constantly that you didn’t care, he couldn’t shake the self-doubt.

- After a particularly hard day at the mansion, you found Kurt sitting alone in the chapel he frequented. He looked lost in thought, his blue tail swishing behind him as he sat in the quiet. You approached him cautiously, not wanting to disturb his moment of peace, but he noticed you right away. “Ah, mein Schatz,” he greeted with a warm smile, his yellow eyes lighting up at the sight of you. You smiled back, sitting next to him, and for a few moments, the two of you simply sat in silence. There was something comforting about being in his presence, even without words.

- Eventually, Kurt broke the silence. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” he admitted, his voice soft but steady. You glanced at him, your heart skipping a beat. “And?” you prompted, curious but not wanting to pressure him. He sighed, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I… I want us to be more, but sometimes I wonder if I deserve someone like you,” he confessed, his insecurities showing through. You frowned, gently placing your hand on his arm. “Kurt, I don’t care about appearances, or what others might think. I care about you. And if you want us to be more, then let’s be more.”

- His eyes met yours, full of uncertainty but also hope. Slowly, he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “You truly mean that?” he asked softly, his voice almost trembling. You nodded, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “Yes, Kurt. I want us to be official.” His smile was soft but filled with so much warmth that it melted your heart. Leaning forward, he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, careful and reverent, as if he was afraid to break you. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice barely above a whisper. “I will do my best to make you happy, always.”

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

- Erik was different. Your relationship with him had always been complicated, filled with tension and unspoken words. Though you had shared many intimate moments—his lips against yours, his hands on your skin—it never felt quite solidified. Erik was a man driven by his convictions, always focused on the larger picture of mutant survival, and it sometimes felt like there was no room in his life for something as trivial as romance. But you knew better. You saw the way his eyes lingered on you when he thought no one was watching, the way he softened in your presence. Still, despite the closeness you shared, neither of you had ever put a label on what you were.

- One evening, after a particularly heated discussion about the future of mutants, you found yourselves alone in his quarters. The conversation had left you both on edge, but rather than arguing, you simply stood there, the air between you charged with tension. Erik had always been a man of few words, and tonight was no exception. He sat in his chair, his posture rigid, his eyes fixed on something in the distance. You could tell he was deep in thought, and you wondered if it was about you, about what the two of you had—or didn’t have.

- Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Erik spoke. “You know, there’s not much room for… affection in the world I envision,” he said, his voice low and contemplative. You felt a pang in your chest at his words, but before you could respond, he continued. “But you… you are an exception,” he admitted, his gaze finally meeting yours. “You’ve become more important to me than I anticipated. More important than I intended.” His admission caught you off guard, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond.

- “Does that mean…?” you trailed off, not wanting to push too far. Erik stood up then, walking over to you, his eyes never leaving yours. “It means that I cannot imagine a world without you in it,” he said, his voice steady. “And that terrifies me.” You reached out, placing a hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. “You don’t have to be afraid of that, Erik. I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered. He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was both tender and possessive. When he pulled back, his voice was firm. “Then it’s official. You are mine, and I am yours.” From that moment on, Erik made it clear that, though his cause was still his priority, you were his greatest exception.

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

- Scott was always a man of discipline, order, and precision. Your relationship had started slowly, marked by cautious glances and subtle touches. You’d spent countless nights together, sharing intimate moments that only hinted at something more. But with Scott, it was never simple. His responsibilities as a leader weighed heavily on him, and he often hesitated when it came to personal matters. You both knew that your relationship had grown beyond casual, but Scott’s reluctance to make it official created a barrier between you.

- One afternoon, you found yourselves alone in the mansion’s common area, the rest of the team out on a mission. You were reading quietly while Scott went over some paperwork, his usual serious demeanor fully in place. After a while, you glanced up at him, unable to hold back any longer. “Scott, we need to talk,” you said softly, setting your book aside. He looked up from his work, his brow furrowing slightly. “About what?” he asked, though you could tell he already knew what was coming.

- “About us,” you clarified, leaning forward slightly. “We’ve been doing this… whatever this is, for a while now, but we’ve never actually said what we are.” Scott’s face softened, and he set his papers down, giving you his full attention. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know, and it’s not because I don’t want to. It’s just… I have a lot of responsibilities. I can’t afford to be distracted.”

- You felt a flicker of frustration but kept your voice calm. “I’m not asking you to choose between me and your duties, Scott. I just want to know where we stand.” He stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable behind his visor. Then, to your surprise, he stood up and walked over to you, kneeling down so he was at eye level. “You’re important to me. More important than I’ve let on,” he admitted, his voice quiet but firm. “I want this. I want you. And I’m ready to make it official, if you are.”

- His words caught you off guard, but a warm feeling spread through your chest. You smiled, leaning in to kiss him gently. “I’m ready,” you whispered against his lips. From that moment on, Scott was fully committed to your relationship, making sure you knew just how much you meant to him, even as he balanced the weight of leadership.

Jean Grey (Phoenix)

- With Jean, things had always been intense. Your connection was undeniable, both emotionally and mentally. She could feel your emotions as clearly as her own, and you could sense her thoughts even without telepathy. You had shared stolen kisses and moments of passion, but the two of you had never defined your relationship. Jean was constantly worried about the power she held, about losing control, and that fear often bled into your relationship. Despite her deep feelings for you, she hesitated to make anything official, afraid of what could happen if her powers ever spiraled out of control.

- One evening, after a particularly stressful mission, you found Jean sitting by the lake behind the mansion. Her arms were wrapped around her knees, and her usually vibrant eyes were filled with uncertainty. You approached her quietly, sitting down beside her. She didn’t say anything at first, but you could feel the storm of emotions swirling within her. “Jean,” you said softly, “what’s going on? You’ve been distant lately.”

- She let out a sigh, resting her chin on her knees. “I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Of what?” you asked, even though you already had an idea. She glanced at you, her eyes filled with worry. “Of losing control. Of hurting you.” The vulnerability in her voice broke your heart, and you gently took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You won’t hurt me, Jean. I trust you.”

- Jean looked at you for a long moment, her telepathy allowing her to sense the sincerity behind your words. Slowly, she leaned into you, resting her head on your shoulder. “I want to be with you, officially,” she whispered. “But I need you to know that sometimes… I get scared of what I am. What I could become.” You wrapped an arm around her, holding her close. “I’m not afraid of you, Jean. Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

- That was the moment when your relationship became something more than just fleeting kisses and stolen moments. Jean allowed herself to open up to you completely, and from that day on, you were her anchor, the one person she could always rely on to ground her, even when the Phoenix inside her threatened to rise.

Wade Wilson (Deadpool)

- Being in a "not-official" relationship with Wade Wilson was a rollercoaster. You knew what you were getting into from the start: snarky comments, dark humor, and an unpredictability that left you on your toes. You and Wade had already shared kisses, and he was not shy about his attraction to you. However, there was an unspoken agreement between you two not to put labels on it, at least not yet. Wade often deflected serious conversations with jokes or by breaking into some random monologue about chimichangas, but you knew he cared—he just had a hard time showing it in a conventional way.

- One day, you were patching him up after yet another dangerous mission. Wade winced slightly as you applied antiseptic to a particularly nasty wound, and for once, he was uncharacteristically quiet. You caught his eye, pausing your movements. “What’s going on, Wade? You’ve been… less annoying than usual today.” He cracked a half-hearted smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You know, sweetheart, I’ve been thinking—maybe you deserve someone a bit more… stable. Someone who doesn’t get blown up every other day.”

- You frowned, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Wade, I knew what I was signing up for. If I wanted someone normal, I wouldn’t be here patching you up. I’d be out with some guy who can’t even tell a good joke.” He chuckled at that, but there was still hesitation in his eyes. You sighed, leaning closer. “Listen, I care about you. A lot. And I’m not going anywhere. So maybe we should stop pretending this isn’t something more.”

- Wade’s eyes softened at your words, and for a moment, he was vulnerable—something rare for him. “You really want this, huh? The whole 'you and me' thing?” You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, I do.” With that, Wade pulled you into a surprisingly tender kiss, his usual bravado replaced by something more genuine. “Alright then,” he murmured against your lips. “Guess we’re official now, huh? Sorry, you’re stuck with me.” You laughed, knowing full well that life with Wade would be chaotic, but it would also be full of love, in his own unique way.

Rogue

- With Rogue, everything was complicated. You had both grown close over time, sharing moments that teetered between friendship and something more, but her powers always made it difficult to take that next step. Despite that, the two of you had kissed—carefully, with gloves and all—and it had left both of you wanting more. But Rogue was hesitant, always afraid of hurting you, of losing control. So, the relationship remained unofficial, a constant dance between affection and restraint.

- One evening, you were sitting on the porch of the X-Mansion, the cool breeze ruffling your hair. Rogue sat beside you, her gloved hands fidgeting in her lap. You could tell something was weighing on her mind, and after a few minutes of silence, she finally spoke. “Ah’ve been thinkin’… maybe it’s not fair to keep you waitin’ like this. Bein’ with me isn’t exactly easy.”

- You turned to her, surprised by her words. “Rogue, I’m not waiting for anything. I’m here because I care about you, and I’m willing to figure this out, no matter how hard it is.” She looked at you, her green eyes filled with uncertainty. “But what if ah hurt you? What if ah lose control?” You reached out, gently taking one of her gloved hands in yours. “We’ll take it slow, like we always have. I trust you, Rogue. And I’m not going anywhere.”

- She looked down at your joined hands, her expression softening. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?” You nodded, your heart swelling with affection for her. “I am. I don’t care about the risks. I just want to be with you.” Rogue’s lips curved into a small smile, and she leaned in, brushing a soft, gloved kiss against your cheek. “Ah reckon we’ve been dancin’ around this long enough,” she said softly. “Ah’m ready to make it official… if you are.” You smiled back at her, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “I’m more than ready.”

Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch)

- With Wanda, your relationship had always been filled with intense emotions, as expected with someone as powerful and passionate as the Scarlet Witch. You had shared a deep connection since the moment you met. The stolen kisses and the soft touches between the two of you hinted at something more, but neither of you had labeled it yet. Wanda had always been cautious, worried about the risks her powers posed to those she loved. Despite that, there was an undeniable chemistry that neither of you could ignore. She was protective of you, more so than anyone else, and that spoke volumes.

- One day, after a stressful battle, you found her sitting alone on the edge of a cliff near the mansion, gazing out into the horizon. You knew she often retreated when things got overwhelming, but this time, you weren’t going to let her push you away. You sat down beside her, your shoulder brushing against hers, and for a while, neither of you spoke. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable; it was comforting in its own way. But you could sense the storm of emotions brewing within her.

- “I’m afraid,” Wanda admitted softly, her voice barely audible. You turned to her, reaching out to take her hand in yours. “Of what?” you asked, your thumb gently rubbing circles over her knuckles. She glanced at you, her red eyes glowing faintly. “Of losing control. Of hurting you. Of losing you.” Her vulnerability touched your heart, and you squeezed her hand, pulling her closer. “You won’t lose me,” you promised, “I’m not going anywhere.” You leaned in, pressing your forehead against hers, feeling the warmth of her breath on your skin.

- In that moment, something shifted between the two of you. The walls she had built around her heart began to crumble, and for the first time, she allowed herself to fully open up to you. Wanda kissed you then, soft and slow, her fingers tangling in your hair. When she pulled back, her eyes were full of determination. “I want this,” she said firmly, “I want us. Officially.” You smiled at her, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” you replied. And from that moment on, Wanda made sure you knew just how much you meant to her, letting you in completely.

Laura Kinney (X-23/Wolverine)

- Laura had always been a difficult person to read, with her guarded personality and hardened exterior. But over time, you’d broken through her defenses, forming a bond that went deeper than either of you had expected. Though the two of you had shared kisses and moments of closeness, Laura had never fully allowed herself to label your relationship, hesitant to accept something she didn’t fully understand. Despite her tough nature, she had a soft spot for you, one that she tried to hide, but it was always there, just beneath the surface.

- After a dangerous mission that nearly cost you both your lives, you found yourselves alone in one of the mansion’s training rooms. Laura was pacing back and forth, frustration etched across her features. You knew that look—she was angry at herself, angry for not being able to protect you the way she wanted to. “You could’ve died,” she growled, stopping in front of you. “And it would’ve been my fault.” You stepped closer to her, reaching out to grab her wrist gently. “But I didn’t,” you said softly, “We’re both okay.”

- Laura’s green eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, you could see the fear and pain swirling within her. She pulled away from your touch, running a hand through her dark hair. “I don’t know how to do this,” she muttered, her voice raw with emotion. “I don’t know how to be… with someone.” You could hear the vulnerability in her words, and it broke your heart. Stepping forward again, you cupped her face in your hands, forcing her to look at you. “You don’t have to be perfect,” you whispered, “Just be with me.”

- The tension between you melted away as Laura finally allowed herself to let go. She kissed you then, her lips urgent and desperate, as if she was trying to prove something to both you and herself. When she pulled back, she rested her forehead against yours, her breath heavy. “I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered. You smiled, brushing your thumb over her cheek. “You won’t,” you promised, “I’m not going anywhere.” From that moment, Laura stopped running from her feelings and embraced the fact that she wanted you in her life—officially. She may not have been good with words, but her actions spoke louder than anything else.

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urdreamydoodles · 3 days

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Remy LeBeau "Gambit" x Fem!Reader

You're a little drunk but under the protection of none other than The Gambit

After a night out with Remy, you find yourself slightly tipsy and in need of protection when a few strangers try to take advantage of your state. Remy steps in to defend you, leading to a playful, tension-filled moment as he gives you a piggyback ride back to the mansion.

The night was warm, the streetlights casting a golden glow over the cobblestone paths as you walked beside Remy through the lively streets of New Orleans. The evening had been fun, filled with laughter and teasing banter, but as the night wore on, you could feel the warmth of the drinks you’d had settling into your bones. Remy had taken you out to a few of his favorite bars, and you’d both indulged in more than a couple of rounds. You weren’t exactly drunk, but the alcohol had left you feeling light, your steps a little unsteady and your head pleasantly fuzzy.

Remy, of course, was as collected as ever. The man could handle his liquor with the same smooth confidence that he handled everything else. He walked beside you with that lazy swagger of his, hands tucked into his pockets as he kept an eye on you. You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes kept flicking over to you, as if making sure you were okay, but his expression remained easy, a playful smirk on his lips.

"Y’ doin’ alright, chère?" His voice was low and soft, carrying that unmistakable Cajun drawl that always sent a little shiver down your spine. He stepped a little closer, his arm brushing against yours.

You nodded, a little giggle escaping your lips as you stumbled slightly, catching yourself on his arm. "Yeah, I’m fine," you said, though your balance was clearly not cooperating. "Maybe I had one too many drinks, though."

Remy chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he steadied you. "Maybe, but I gotta say, y’ a cute drunk, chérie. Could watch y’ like this all night."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you looked up at him, meeting his gaze. There was that familiar spark in his eyes, the one that always made your breath catch in your throat. The tension between you two had been building for weeks now, unspoken but undeniable. Every touch, every glance seemed to carry more weight lately, and you weren’t sure how much longer either of you could ignore it.

"Careful, Remy," you teased, though your voice was softer than you intended. "You keep talkin’ like that, and I might start thinkin’ you’ve got a crush on me."

His grin widened, his arm slipping around your waist to help steady you as you both continued down the street. "A crush, chère? Oh, I think it might be a lil’ more than that."

The way he said it made your stomach flutter, and you found yourself leaning into him a little more as you walked. You’d always been close with Remy, but lately, the air between you had shifted. You couldn’t deny the attraction anymore, and neither could he. It was like every moment with him crackled with electricity, the space between you charged with something you couldn’t quite name.

As the two of you neared a street corner, you stumbled slightly again, your balance thrown off by the uneven pavement and the lingering buzz from the drinks. Before you could fully recover, a couple of guys who had been loitering near the bar turned their attention to you. They were clearly a little too interested in your unsteady steps, their eyes lingering on you in a way that made your skin crawl.

"Hey there, sweetheart," one of them called, stepping forward as he eyed you up and down. "Need a hand? Looks like you’re havin’ a hard time walkin’ on your own."

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything, Remy’s arm tightened around you, pulling you a little closer to his side. His entire demeanor shifted in an instant, the easygoing charm replaced with something harder, more dangerous. He shot the men a warning look, his red-on-black eyes narrowing.

"Don’t worry ‘bout her, homme," Remy said, his voice low and edged with a quiet threat. "She’s with me."

The guy sneered, clearly not taking the hint. "Oh yeah? She don’t look like she’s with anyone. Maybe she wants a real man to help her out."

Before you could react, Remy stepped forward, his body positioning itself between you and the men. His eyes flashed dangerously, and you could feel the tension radiating off him. He didn’t need to say anything more. His presence alone was enough to make the men think twice, and after a moment of hesitation, they backed off, muttering something under their breath before disappearing back into the bar.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, your heart racing a little faster in your chest. Remy turned back to you, his expression softening as his eyes met yours. He didn’t say anything, just gave you a small smile as if to reassure you that everything was alright.

"You okay, chère?" he asked, his voice gentle again, the protective edge gone now that the threat had passed.

You nodded, a little breathless from the sudden shift in the mood. "Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for… that."

He waved it off, his grin returning. "Ain’t nothin’. Nobody’s gonna mess with y’ while I’m around."

The sincerity in his words made your heart squeeze, and for a moment, you found yourself wondering what it would be like to have him in your life like this all the time. Remy was always there for you, always watching out for you, and lately, it was starting to feel like more than just friendship. You weren’t sure how he felt, but the way he looked at you sometimes, the way he was looking at you right now… it made you wonder.

"You look like y’ need a ride, chérie," Remy said suddenly, breaking the silence. Before you could protest, he crouched down in front of you, patting his shoulders. "Hop on. I’ll get y’ back to the mansion safe and sound."

You blinked, surprised. "A piggyback ride? Really?"

He shot you a wink over his shoulder. "Trust me, it’s the best way to travel when y’ a lil’ tipsy. C’mon, I won’t drop y’. Promise."

Despite yourself, you giggled, the warmth of the drinks making you feel a little more carefree than usual. With a playful roll of your eyes, you climbed onto his back, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as his hands settled on your thighs to keep you steady. The closeness of his body against yours sent a jolt of heat through you, and for a moment, you forgot about everything else. It was just you and Remy, the night air cool against your skin as he carried you across the street.

His muscles flexed beneath you, the strength in his body obvious as he moved with effortless grace. The warmth of his skin against your own was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help but rest your head on his shoulder, the scent of his cologne filling your senses. The tension between you simmered just beneath the surface, and you wondered if he could feel it too, the way your heart was racing in your chest.

"You comfortable back there, chère?" Remy’s voice broke through your thoughts, teasing as always.

You smiled, your fingers tightening slightly around his shoulders. "Yeah, I’m comfortable."

He chuckled, his hands shifting slightly on your thighs as he walked. "Good, ‘cause I gotta say, I could get used to carryin’ y’ around like this."

The playful tone in his voice made you blush, and you were glad he couldn’t see your face. "Remy, you’re impossible."

"Only ‘round y’, chère," he said softly, his voice dropping just a little, enough to make your heart skip a beat.

For the rest of the walk back to the mansion, neither of you spoke, but the silence between you was filled with unspoken words, with feelings that neither of you had voiced yet. As Remy carried you through the quiet streets, you couldn’t help but wonder how much longer you could keep pretending that this was just friendship, that the tension between you didn’t mean something more. Because if tonight had proven anything, it was that the line between friends and something more had never been thinner.

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