Prompt:
Can I request a Warren Worthington (Angel) imagine where the reader and him are
acting all cuddly and fluffy so Peter and Scott are making fun of him for going
soft but he tries to act tough in front of them? Thank you, I’m having major
feels.
Note:
Awwwwwww my babyyyyy
Warnings:
Swears and suggestions ;).
It was a sunny Saturday afternoon at the
Mansion. You were cuddling with your boyfriend of three months, Warren. His
strong arms were around you as you laid on his muscular chest. Your fingers
traveled up through his curly golden locks. He smiled, kissing your temple.
“Babe,” he said suddenly. He sounded like
something was troubling him.
“What?” you asked, looking up at his face.
You smiled. God, he was so handsome.
“I’m not…going soft, am I?” he asked, definitely a little bit worried.
“Why?”
“Am I?”
“No. You’re still the badass I fell in love
with.” you reassured him, resting your cheek on his chest. “Now tell me why?”
“The boys keep teasing me.” he admitted.
“Teasing you about us?”
“Yeah. They think I’m turning into a teddy
bear.”
“Well you are
pretty cuddly.” you poked his nose. He smirked, unamused by your little gesture.
“Tell you what, Jean, Jubilee, Ororo, and I are going out tonight to catch a
movie and go shopping. You can act tough in front of the guys and when I get
home-”
“How about I’ll surprise you when you get
home?” he suggested, an idea popping into his head. You nodded, a sly grin
slowly creeping across your face. You had an idea of your own.
***
“You look hot,” Jubilee applauded as you
walked out of the dressing room. Jean and Ororo nodded in agreement.
You were wearing a pair of ripped skinny jeans,
a tight black Metallica t-shirt, one of Warren’s leather jackets, a pair of
angel wing earrings, and heavy black ankle-boots. Your hair was tossed over one
side of your head, your eyeliner was thick and dark, and your eyeshadow was
red. Your nails had been painted black. God, you felt hot.
“I’ve never really tried the rocker look
before, but…” you spun around, looking at yourself in the mirror. Warren had
never seen you like this either.
“He’s going to lose his mind,” Jean smirked. “I’d
be surprised if he doesn’t melt into
a puddle as soon as he sees you.”
“Agreed,” Ororo nodded. “His jaw will quite
literally hit the floor.”
“I can’t wait,” you grinned, looking at your
reflection and biting your lip.
***
“You guys are lightweights,” Warren scoffed,
downing another shot of vodka. The Four Horsemen by Metallica blared loudly in
the danger room. Luckily, it was soundproof.
“Dude, I’m the only one here legal to drink,”
Peter chuckled.
“Actually, in Germany, zhe legal drinking age
is sixteen,” Kurt piped up, still completely alcohol free. “I just don’t like
alcohol. It’s sinful.”
“Bro, there are like three of you,” Scott
chuckled, pointing hazily at Peter. Peter laughed.
“Dude.” Peter shook his head. Kurt laughed. He
looked up at Warren, who fanned his wings and played air-guitar as the big
guitar solo played. “Okay, maybe you aren’t going soft.”
“Damn right,” Warren nodded. “I mean, I did meet my girlfriend when I punched
her in the face.”
“I forgot about that,” Peter chuckled. “And
then she saved your life.”
“Yeah, she’s kind of a badass too,” Warren
smirked. Peter’s eyes widened, looking behind Warren at the entrance to the
danger room. It opened, revealing you in your rocker get-up.
“You have no clue,” Peter rubbed the back of
his neck. Warren turned around, raising an eyebrow. His jaw dropped as he took
you in.
“Hey babe,” you greeted, walking up to him
confidently in your clunky leather boots. He was frozen, staring at you. The girls
watched from the doorway, smiling. You rested your hand on his chest, smirking.
He swallowed thickly.
“You…” he couldn’t seem to get words to come
out of his mouth. “Um, you look good. Like really good. Hot. You look hot.”
“That’s kinda what I was going for.”
“Is that my-”
“Jacket? Yeah. It is.” you nodded. “But…if
you wanna come up to my room and help me take it off…”
“Bye guys,” Warren bid the others farewell.
He lifted you off of the floor, literally
carrying you all the way there. The girls high-fived. Peter looked around at
the others.
“Yep. He’s going soft.” Peter rested his
hands on his hips. “Oh, and Jean, your boyfriend’s drunk.”
“Scott,”
she sighed, walking over to help him off of the floor.
***
About an hour later, you and Warren were laying
on your backs on your bed, breathing heavily. Warren had red lipstick marks all
over. His hair was a mess and he was dressed only in his black boxers. You were
down to a t-shirt and black short-shorts.
“I’m not going soft, am I?” Warren checked,
smirking.
Toad's Cave 