Prompt(s):
Hi again! I was wondering if you could write something where the reader is an
Empath at Xavier’s Institute and feels Angel’s pain (both physical and
emotional, tho he tries to hide it) after his experiences in Berlin and she
goes to comfort him and although guarded at first, he admits that he likes her
but is scared of her getting hurt bc “something bad is coming” and the reader
promising they’ll get through it together, if he’ll let them. Thanks so much!”
and “Could you do something super cute with like insecure Angel? I have a
pathological need for someone to reassure him that he’s goregeous and love him
for eternity.”
Note:
Reader also has healing abilities.
Warnings:
APOCALYPSE SPOILERS!! And it gets a lil steamy, but nothing bad.
Being an empath meant you could feel the
feelings of others. Every emotion rang at a different level on your figurative
scale, but the loudest of all at the moment was Warren’s pain. He was in the
Danger Room, hiding out. You could feel him there, curled up in the corner
listening to his heavy rock music with an empty bottle of liquor in his hand.
When you couldn’t stand the deep rattling of
his pain any longer, you got up from the couch in the living room and made your
way through the house to find him. You walked into the Danger Room, to the back
corner. Warren was there, his thick curly blonde hair tousled and tears in his
eyes.
“What do you want?” he asked, not even
glancing up at you with his tired blue eyes.
“I could feel your pain from upstairs,” You told
him, taking a seat beside him. “Emotional and
physical.”
“Yeah, well, that tends to happen when you
have literal knives digging into your back all the time,” Warren replied,
tilting his bottle back, but finding there was nothing left. He set it down beside
him and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.
“When I brought you back-”
“From the dead, you mean,”
“Yes. When I brought you back from the dead,
you left the infirmary before I could fix your wings.” You told him, running
your fingers over the cool metal.
“I didn’t think that was a thing you could
do,”
“I can do it.” You told him. “And then we can
talk about the emotional stuff.”
“I know how you heal. I’d rather talk first.”
He told you, smirking.
“So what’s bugging you?”
“I just…since we got here. Since I got here, I’ve just felt like
something was coming. Something bad. And that wouldn’t be such a problem if I
didn’t care about anyone. But I do.” He sighed, his large hand wrapping around
your wrist. “When I came back, the first thing I saw was you. I might be the
one with wings, but believe me; you’re
the angel.”
“Warren,” You sighed, smiling gently. His
eyes finally found yours, locking into your gaze.
“If you ever got hurt…I…I can’t lose you, (Y/N). I don’t know if
you feel the same, but I care about you a lot, and I would never get over
losing you.” He confessed. “I know I’m not good enough for-”
“Hold up. Don’t you ever think you’re not good enough, Warren. Ever. You are strong and
brave and handsome and I wouldn’t change a thing about you, not even the metal
wings. I just don’t want you to be in so much pain all the time. And if
something bad comes as bad things always seem to, we’ll get through it
together.”
“Promise?”
“I promise,” You told him. He sighed in
relief and glanced back at his wings.
“You know, these things were cool at first,
but now they’re dangerous and painful. I used to hate my wings, the fragile
feathery ones, but being like this for a while…I want them back.” he admitted,
the metal hissing as he retracted them, starting to stand up. He offered you a
hand and helped you to your feet.
“You sure you want me to do this?” you asked.
“I can’t turn them back to this.”
“I’m sure.” he nodded, blue eyes locked on
yours. “It won’t hurt, will it?”
“It shouldn’t,” you told him. “But you might
need a nap after.”
“Well, that’s not so bad.” he chuckled. “All
right. Work your magic.”
“Here goes nothing,” you lifted your hands to
his bare shoulders, gently touching the scarred skin. Tingles shot through him,
a cool sensation rushing over his skin as the scars and cuts from his blades
healed.
Once the scars were all gone, you stroked his
cheeks, looking to him for approval. He nodded shakily. He was nervous. He had
only kissed you one other time and that was when you brought him back to life,
so that didn’t really count. He stooped down a little so you didn’t have to
reach. Gently, you brought your lips to his. His eyes widened before they
closed. The blissful tingly feeling coursed through his veins. He wrapped his
arms around your waist, pulling you close. He felt the blades on his back begin
to fall off one by one, each crashing to the floor with a clang.
Warren groaned in pleasure, his lips moving
against yours slowly, but picking up pace. White, puffy feathers emerged from
his back, peeking out before stretching to full length. Warren groaned again,
his hands finding your thighs and pulling you up onto his hips, holding you
there. Power ran through him like a burning fire, hot with passion.
He felt stronger, ready to take on the world.
His wings were back to normal and you were in his arms, safe from harm. He came
down from his high, breathing heavily. His muscular chest heaved as he set you
down.
Magnificent white wings stretched behind him.
You smiled, exhausted. You fell against his strong chest, unable to support
your own weight. Warren didn’t hesitate to scoop you up into his strong arms.
“Looks like you’re the one that needs the
nap,” he chuckled. You nodded silently.
“Give it a minute, buddy.” You patted his
chest. “You might not even make it up the stairs by the time that energy wears
off,”
“My room or yours?”
“Mine,” you told him, closing your eyes as
you listened to his heartbeat. Warren ran out of the Danger Room, up the
stairs, and onto the second floor. You were right. The energy was wearing off
fast, and by the time he got to your room, he was dragging his feet.
He set you on the bed and just about fell on
top of you, pulling his legs onto the mattress. He laughed softly, his head
finding a spot on your shoulder and his wings draping over you like a warm
feathery blanket.
“I love you, Warren,” you murmured, your fingers
running through his golden locks as you drifted off.
Toad's Cave 