Warren Worthington

What are you afraid of?

Fandom: Xmen

Warnings: cursing, danger?, Angst, feelllsssss

Pairing: m/m Peter Maximoff x male reader

6. “Oh my God! You’re in love with him!”

86. “I’m tired of being your secret.”

Originally posted by leafywinchester


@cosplayinganimedork requested:

86 6 Hello! I love your stories. Can you do a Peter Maximoff x Reader story where the reader is male (I can never find any stories that aren’t female) based off prompts 86 and 6 where Peter and the reader are secretly gay and dating but no one knows because they don’t know how everyone would react? But Peter somehow accidentally gives it away to his friends that he likes the reader and then both have to come clean to everyone about their relationship? Thank you!


Answer: thank you so much for this request! I love writing m/m though I don’t have much experience with it so I don know how good this is. I didn’t really write the part when they were supposed to ‘come clean’, but if enough people want it I’m willing to write a part two. I was super inspired with this one so I wrote a lot, might have gotten carried away …

I hope you like it!



“Hey y/n, we’re going out tonight, wanna come? The last one to get a girl to dance with them looses,” Scott Summers waved, calling him over. Y/n winced internally, trying not to stare too long at Peter as he joined the four men. But the jovial silver-haired mutant didn’t even blink when he shook his hand casually and smirked.


“Bad luck my man, so far the bets are against you,” Warren chuckled while tapping his cigarette cinders on the damp grass. They were all grouped around a tree in the flourishing mansion garden, Kurt hanging from his tail, Warren and Peter leaning against it, the latter eating a Twinkie and jittering on his feet as usual, and Scotty sitting with his legs stretched out and hands behind his head, soaking in the afternoon sunlight. It was Friday, they only had an hour of class left before they were done for the weekend and training for some, like y/n and Warren, the latest recrutes.


They had met in the underground battle rings, on same sides, and after Apocalypse the Archangel had come back for him, having created a small bond of friendship with the mutant. He took him back to the x-mansion, where he became one of the X-Men. That, was when he met the funniest, most beautiful man he had ever seen. The one and only Peter Maximoff had swept him off his feet and charmed him from day one with his smirks and witty comebacks, and a few weeks later he fell desperately, miserably​ in love with him. A kiss and a confession later, Peter’s reprocicated feelings were brought out to daylight and they started dating. Peter was to scared to tell the others yet though: nobody knew of his sexual orientation and he had some really big rejection issues, but his lovely boyfriend was willing to wait, anything to make him feel better. Besides, he wasn’t out of the closet either.


“Maybe we could even ask the girls to come along,” y/n pushed aside his distressing thoughts, throwing a teasing look at Scott.


“Yeah, why not? I’ll ask Jean to tell them.” He could tell he was trying to sound casual, but everyone knew of both mutants neverending crush on each other, and it was killing them to watch them continue on ignoring it. Maybe tonight was their night.


The bell rang, and they all parted ways, exited to be over with it and finally go party. Y/n was mainly planning on drinking, at least enough to take his mind off watching the love of his life flirt and bat his beautiful, dark chocolate eyes at some random college girl in a cheerleader skirt. He hated it.


As he trudged up the steps behind Warren on his was to the training room, leaving some space so as not to risk a sudden flap of his giant wings, he felt something flash by him. He barely caught a glance of silver before he felt his heart flutter at the feel of soft lips on his cheek, familiar and warm. He smiled, but the instant was gone as quick as it had come, without a sound or anyone noticing. He realized he had pressed what felt like a wrapper into the palm of his hand. He gripped it tight, shoving into his pocket.


He waited until he was alone in the changing room after Warren had left before pulling the Twinkie wrapper out, feeling his lips curl into a small smile at the messy handwriting scrawled on in silver sharpie, which he had bought him as a gift to match his hair.


Meet me at our spot after class?

Love you babe

xoxoxo 


 He barely had the time to set foot into the small alcove that the mansion seemed to be full of when a hand gripped his arm an pulled him in, holding him captive with another hand on the small of his back. He let out an ungracefull “Hey!-” before he was cut off by soft, plump lips in a sweet, longing kiss, lips moving in sync, then tongues rolling together in some sort of dance. 

 “God it’s been too long,” Peter whispered when they broke apart, setting his forehead on y/n’s, staring at him with his giant, puppy-dog like eyes.

 “You were just in my room last night,” huffed y/n lightly. He snaked his arms underneath his boyfriend’s, hugging him close. “Yeah but Warren was there too, I had to pretend like I was just there for the ice cream. Why couldn't​ they have made us roommates? Imagine all the things we could do?” He laughed softly, making his chest rise and fall, resting his chin in y/n’s soft hair. Y/n kissed him once again, and was met by willing lips. “Yes, that would be quite fun,” he mumbled when the speedster started moving down to his jawline and neck, leaving small wet marks that made his skin tingle. He was right: it had been too long. But not like Peter thought. He pushed aside the thought that had been haunting his mind for a few weeks now, becoming harder and harder to bear. 

After a half hour of more kissing and soft, reassuring words he left, dragging his feet reluctantly back to his dorm. But his conscience wasn’t settled. He had tried talking to Peter before leaving, in vain. His boyfriend had clearly noticed he wasn’t doing to well. 

 “Tonight, after the party, we’ll go out, okay? On a date somewhere, I promise.” Peter had said. Y/n had just stared at his laces, not saying anything.

 “Why not at the party, Peter?”  he finally asked. Peter’s eyes took on a pained expression. 

 “You know why…” he looked down. 

Y/n sighed. “It’s been months, don’t you think it’s about time they knew? How much longer are we going on like this? Months? Years?” Now it was Peter’s turn not to answer, and he l simply looked away. 

 “I’m getting tired, Peter. Tired of being your secret.” he had said, then left without even a kiss. The though still bothered him greatly. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. 


The lights flashed in tune with the boom of the bass, the rythm pounding with the beats of his heart. “Come on, y/n, you’re going to loose! Get out of the booth!” A sweaty Warren called while flashing a smile to the brunette pulling his hand. He had to admit, he had a deviously bad boy look that seemed to attract girls from mile radius, with a giant leather jacket (to hide his wings) and golden locks. “Even Kurt got the little redhead in the corner!”

 “I’m good man, just taking some beer, i’ll be right out there.” Handsome, but not as much as my boyfriend, he thought smugly. They hadn’t talked since that afternoon though, and he was starting to feel uneasy. 

 He searched the crowd for him, not finding that familiar silver jacket. Furrowing his brows, he got up, leaving his drink and dove into the crowd. He slid through the sea of bodies moving in sync, passing Kurt and a cute little redhead in a paint-stained sweater who looked too innocent to be here, but then again so did Kurt, and he went deeper into the club. Finally, he caught a glimpse of him. He prepared to go up and talk to him, hold him, anything to be with him, when he noticed the figure that had approached the silver-haired mutant. She was, to any straight man, the perfect woman, if you understand what i mean. She draped herself over him, taking all his attention. Y/n boiled in rage, then saw Scott give Peter a hearty thumbs-up and he thought he would explode. Peter responded with a wiggle of his eyebrows y/n knew was fake, then proceeded to grab the girls ass as she grinded into him. 

He felt his fingers curl into fists, his jaw clench. Y/n couldn’t take anymore. He pushed through the crowd, not caring about the drunken insults and protests thrown his way. He tried to look ahead through the tears blurring his vision, holding back the urge to punch the first person he saw until the floor was colored crimson. He passed booth, downing what was left of his drink and everyone else’s before running out the door. He passed Warren making out with the brunette, not even answering to his quizzical call, ran past the cars into the night. He didn’t know where he was heading, into the city, following the lights of racing cars, but he just kept on running. He was drunk off his ass, and he could feel the alcohol affect his poor judgement. But now a single thought ran through his mind, and he couldn’t get it out. 

 When Peter heard the surprised yelps his head whipped around and he felt his stomach drop. He saw that familiar head of hair he had spent so much time burying his nose in, and wanted so badly to call out to him and push the girl away. But Scott could see him, and Kurt was barely a few feet away. He wished so badly they would disappear,  wanted to kick himself for being such an idiot, regret making it hard for him to breathe. Why hadn’t he seen him earlier? He knew this would hurt him. Then the girl turned, looking up at him through mascara drenched eyelashes. She grabbed his chin, tilted his head, and for an instant her face was replaced by another, until he could feel her breath on his lip, could hear Scott cheering him on, she was so close, they were almost touching, her eyes closed and- this wasn’t the smell he loved. Those eyes weren’t the ones he had dreamed of waking up in front of every morning. He slid past her arms and raced through the crowd, barely a blur despite the throng of people slowing him down.


 Peter rushed out into the cool air, panic rising up his system. “Y/n!” He screamed.

 “What happened? I just saw him run out if here he didn’t even answer me,” Peter turned his head to look at Warren, a girl still under his arm, with a hopeless, lost expression.

 “I’m such a fucking idiot. I’m an absolute asshole.” He said, gaze still lost. A girl poked her head out of the bar. “Hey, come back! Why did you leave?” She pouted, yanking on Peter’s sleeve.

 He had snapped out of his initial shock, and he could feel the anger rising. He pulled back so hard she almost fell over in her ridiculously tall heels. “Get off!” He burst. “And go back inside and find some other fuckboy to screw tonight, I’m not coming home with you, alright?” He spat,”And you know why? Because I’m an absolutely fucking idiot, i’m a screwed up piece of shit who just let the love of his life run off crying and I won’t even be able to find him! He’s probably drunk on the streets being mugged or something and I’m here yelling at some girl with Daddy issues who probably doesn’t even know my name! I Don even like you! I don’t even like women! What the hell do all of you guys find in women? Just let me get my boyfriend!” He continued yelling when she had run back inside, terrified and claiming he was a phsycopath. He was left breathless, a deep pang fear taking over the blinding anger, losing his lucidity with the thought of what could happen to a drunk y/n alone on the streets. 

 “Oh my God, you’re in love with him!” Warren said, surprise in his eyes. A gasp could be heard behind him: he whipped his head to Scott who had come outside, seeing him run off, and Kurt peeked behind him. Peter huffed,  shoving Warren off, tears welling up in his eyes. Without a word he took off, not so much as a glance back.


Y/n finally stopped running, his chest aching and legs screaming in pain. The bile in his throat rose and he belched right there on the road. Where even was he? He looked around, hugging himself. The alcohol was wearing off quick, as always with him, and his lucidity was returning. It was completely dark, he couldn’t tell if he was in an alleyway or in a parc, all he knew was that there was hard concrete at his feet and something that could be a wall, cool and rugged, against his hand. 

 Suddenly light invaded the area from behind him. He realized with a sickened thought that he was on a street, the wall beside him was the side of the tunnel. His shadow shortened, and as he turned around the bright white blinded him, and as he heard the honk he braced himself for impact. He closed his eyes, and once again the same thought kept running through his mind, and at that moment be accepted he would never have an answer. 

 Is he embarrassed of loving me?

youtube

In case anyone wanted to know my drawing process!! (8

ON A MORE SERIOUS NOTE; YAY IMPROVEMENT
August 2016 / July 2017

Comfort in a Library

Pairing: Warren Worthington III x Reader (She/Her)

Category:  Hurt/Comfort, Angst

Words: 1273

Warnings: Reader is having a panic attack, hyperventilating 

Prompts: three. from the six stages of falling in love with her:

when she’s curled up on your lap shaking with mismatched breaths you’ll wonder how someone who looked like she carried mountains on her shoulders could crumble so easily in your arms like the tornado in her mind finally hit her and knocked her off her feet.

Summary:  Warren comforts his girlfriend while she is having a panic attack.

A/N: I’m honestly not quite sure how I feel about this one. What do you guys think? Hopefully it’s not to horrible.

Originally posted by softtroublemaker

In the few months that they had been together Warren had gotten to know Y/N’s habits, her daily patterns, and all her little quirks. He knows that she liked to have a mug of tea when she’s doing her homework. He knows that she loves Saturday morning cartoons and that she likes to hide in the fantasy section of the school library when she’s overwhelmed. And therein said fantasy section is exactly where he finds her today, leaning against one of the old, wooden bookshelves.

Keep reading

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-you’d meet during the Apocalypse ordeal and he’d save you from a falling building

-after the Apocalypse thing he’d get his real feathered wings back and come to the Mutant school with you.

-he would always be holding your hand

-at first he’d feel really bad about what he did with Apocalypse so he’d almost hide behind you.

-but your friends would welcome him because they can see the way he looks at you with eyes full of love.

-once he was comfortable, he’d be back to his snarky, confident, cocky self. 

-cuddles 24/7 because he’s a teddy bear and needs love

-his wings bumping into things

-gripping you like you could be stolen from his arms at any moment

-burrowing his face into your neck during one of those long hugs

-his wings encircling you like a protective barrier

-he sleeps sprawled everywhere and his wings go over everything

-he sleeps in too.

-but he always manages to grab you and secure you to his side when he sleeps, his wing resting on top of you like a protective dog or cat

-you stand near the window while Warren sleeps. suddenly those big muscled arms wrap around your bare waist and lips find the skin on your neck, ‘good morning beautiful.’ he murmurs against your neck in that husky morning voice of his.

-food fights in the community kitchen

-sexy times and kinky times because that kid is a kinky shit

-him grinning whenever something kinky gets mentioned

-showers together where his wings almost break the glass shower door because they’re so big and there’s no way the both of you can actually fit in the shower

-he’d have a thing for laying down with his head in your lap while you stroke his blonde hair, and he’d look up at you with adoring baby blues.

-tracing the tattoos left from Apocalypse and he gets ashamed of them but you tell him they’re beautiful like the rest of him

-he’d get nervous about doing romantic things in public, like for an anniversary he’d get you a rose and dress in a suit to take you to dinner some place fancy and he’d be so nervous his wings would shake and he’d turn red and look at the ground when he sees how beautiful you are dressed for the occasion.

-rough kisses

-kisses where he gently cups your face

-kisses all over you as he tickles you

-love marks 

-movie dates where you cuddle and watch anything you want and eat pizza together

-just… everyone’s OTP

Theoretically

Originally posted by obscure-imagines

Warren Worthington III x Reader

Theoretically

Author: Morgan

Prompt: Can I have a Warren Worthington imagine? Like how about Warren got into a fight again and the reader is all worried and Warren says he’s okay and the reader just fixes his wounds and they cuddle?? I’M SO TRASH FOR WARREN

Note: I AM ALSO TRASH FOR WARREN OMG I MISSED HIMMMMM

Warnings: None?

Warren hesitated to knock on your door. Another night, another fight, and as usual, he had shed some blood and earned some new bruises. But he couldn’t help it. They had been making fun of him…of you. It was the last straw. So here he was, back at the Mansion with his fist poised to knock on your door.

After waiting several more seconds in silence, he finally knocked. You hopped out of bed and pulled the door open, certainly not expecting to see Warren standing there with a black eye, bloodied knuckles, and several scrapes and bruises. He was a mess, and at the moment, you couldn’t tell if the blood stain on his jacket was from him or someone else.

“Oh my God, Warren, are you okay?”

“Yeah…I’m fine.”

“Good. You have to stop doing this.”

“I know.” He lowered his face. There were several moments of silence.

“Get in here.”

“Yes ma’am.” He trudged through the door, his heavy metal wings trailing behind him. His golden Mohawk of curls had been thrown into disarray and now resembled more of a messy halo. A halo on your fallen angel.

“What was it this time?” You asked, taking a seat in front of him.

“They think I’m some no good villain.” He rolled his eyes. “What else is new?”

“Who did this?” you asked. He shook his head, his eyes settling on the toes of his boots. “Warren.”

“New guy. You don’t know him. But he knew me from the news or whatever.”

“You’re famous,” you chuckled a little.

“Infamous is more like it.” He shook his head. His eyes tentatively met yours. “I wish everyone was like you.”

“Oh hush.” You held out both of your hands. “You’re just lucky I’m a healer.”

Warren offered you his knuckles first. His large calloused hands relaxed under your gentle whispers of touches. The white glow from your hands was cool, and in instants, the gashes had dissolved to nothing, leaving only skin behind. You waved a hand in front of his face, causing the swollen eye to shrink, and then cleared up his bruises. When you were done, he let out a blissful sigh.

“Well, I guess not everything about getting into fights all the time is bad.”

“Elaborate.” You smirked as he leaned back against your bedframe.

“I mean, getting to see you is certainly a perk.”

“There are other ways to see me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. ‘Oh hey, (Y/N), want to go to the mall?’ or ‘hey (Y/N), do you want to go out with me?’ would work just fine, but nooooo, angel boy and his bad boy complex always seem to-”

“So you’d go out with me?” he cut you off, a smirk finding his lips. It did not help that you just noticed the way his black t-shirt hugged his biceps. Shit, he was hot. “Theoretically, of course.”

“Theoretically…yes.” You scooted a little closer to him and let a cold finger trail down the fabric of his t-shirt. Abs. Goddamn. “And if we’re being 100 percent honest here, I’ve always kind of had a thing for bad boys.”

“Is that so?” he raised an eyebrow and twirled a curl of your hair around one of his large fingers.

“Mmhmm.”

“Interesting.”

But, I’m also a huge cuddler. So, theoretically of course, this bad boy would have to be down for some mean cuddle sessions from time to time.”

“Oh, believe me, I can cuddle.” He crossed his muscular arms as though you had just proposed a challenge.

“Oh can you?”

“For your information, yes. I can.” You were skeptical. “Come here. Right now. We’re cuddling.”

“Are we?”

“We are. Right here. Right now.” Warren sunk down into the pillows the slightest bit. He opened his arms wide and folded and tucked his metal wings as far beneath him as possible. You crawled beneath the covers and surrendered to his strong embrace. He brushed the tiny hairs out of the front of your face. “See?”

“Cozy indeed, bad boy.” You pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips and flicked the light off. “Goodnight.”

And so there the two of you were. Someone broken, and someone who pieced broken things back together. With you in his arms, Warren had never slept better.

Some hilarious writing prompts

Alright so a few days ago I decided to look for some hilarious text posts on tumblr and I laughed so much I just had to write some prompts! (is possible to be customized)
(Send me requests with 1/1+ prompt/s. I write about a lot of fandoms and also a lot of different things : one shots/scenarios/imagines/headcanons/chats/conversations/aesthetics/alomst anything) REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

*1. Do I look like I give a fuck?
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*2. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on you again for taking advantage of my compassionate and forgiving nature! HOw dare you.
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*3. Me? Overreacting? Probably.
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4. I used to be passive aggressive, but now I’m aggressively passive. Don’t mess with me kiddo. I’ll be right here. I’ll fucking forgive you.
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5. A: Whar are you doing?
B: Avoiding.
A: Avoiding what?
B: Everything.
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*6. This was impulsive. Probably shouldn’t have done it. WHO CARES?
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*7. You’re really cute and it’s ruining my life because I think about kissing you all the time.
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8. A: It’s okay, I’m not mad.
    A (5 mins later): Actually? You can go to Hell.
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9. I hate people who get personally offended when I’m in a bad mood, likeI’m not mad at you Susan (name), I’m mad at the world!
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10. A to A: Bitch, if you actually applied yourself in like…anything, you’d be dangerous ,damn my lazy ass.
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11. I don’t know what I’m feeling, but there’s a lot of it.
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12. Not to dictate your life, but drop your shitty friends.
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13. That sounds like responsibility and I want no part in it.
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14. Why am I better than everyone? Jesus, life’s hard.
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15. A: How do you make someone holy?
B: You beat the hell out of them.
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16. A: I’m amazed of how insignificant we actually are.
B: Not me, I’m important.
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17. If anyone can do it, then someone who isn’t me can do it.
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18. In the old days of one week ago things were different. Now look at us - slightly older than we were back then, other clothes and such.
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19. I’m not going to claim that I know everything, I’m simply going to act like it.
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*20. You have to “see it to believe it”, so as long as I’m not looking I don’t have to believe in anything.
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21. I’m visualising a powerful mystical energy at the moment.
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22. If I don’t learn anything from my mistakes then I don’t have to consider them mistakes in the first place.
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23. Why the hell is there always this one weak bitch in the group that isn’t down with murder? No offence though.
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24. A: If you ever feel stupid, or weak, or powerless, just remember that I, am not.
B: THanks.
A: You’re welcome.
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25. I wanna do dirty stuff with you like farming.
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26. A: What are you reading?
B: 10 tips for beutiful hair the Government doesn’t want you to know.
A: wHAT the fuck?
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27. A: I’m tired of these constant near-death experiences.
B: (opinional) don’t be a whiny bitch, bitch.
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28. Man, how many eye contact until date?
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29. God has a favourite comedy tv series and it’s called “my life”.
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30. Sometimes all you can say is “yikes” and then just on the fuck on.
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31. Why is everyone having their mid-life crisis at like 19?
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32. It’s a beutiful day to give me money, honey.
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33. Women aren’t complicated, you’re just dumb.
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34. Well this social situation isn’t going the way I acted it out in the shower.
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35. No offence, but my favourite hobby is staying hydrated and beautiful.
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36. I’m actually pretty cool if you give me like 5 tries to get it right.
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37. Today I’m feeling cloudy with a chance of sarcastic.
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38. Be prapared to add a cute emoji next to my name in your contacts list because you’re gonna love me.
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*39.A: Babe, I’m not grabbing your boob, I’m grabbing your heart.
B: That’s my right boob though.
A: Babe.
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40.Every machine is a smoke machine if you operate it wrong enough.
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41.What makes me feel like a failure the most is when I can’t remember the answet to a Harry Potter trivia question.
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42.I hate it when I’m really nice…And then people are just not that nice? Like what the fuck.
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43.Don’t look at me in that tone of voice.
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*44.Is your name candle? Because I wanna blow you.
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*45. So, was that just awkward eye contact, or were we checking eachother out?-

46.You know, having feelings is ruining my reputation of being a heartless bitch.
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47.My turn ons? Well I don’t know, maybe some fucking common sense.
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48.I may seem like an angry person on the surface, but deep inside I’m actually angrier.
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49.I ship me and that boat.
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50.Listen. I did mean to make you upset and I do think your opinions are shit. But you’re still my friend so it’s okay.
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51.Because my two moods are like glitter and death.
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*52.My kink is closing the fucking bathroom door, because no one wants to see you fucking pee!
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53.If I go to Hell I’m gonna constantly torture everyone by continuously asking if it’s hot in here or is it just me.
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54.Oh my God are you seeing this shit?
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55.Graduated top of my class from Hogwarts school of bitchcraft and misery.

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56.A (shows up at your door 10 years after we had an argument): aND ANOTHER THING

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57.I’ll betray all of you in the Hunger Games.

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58.Well, well, well, if it isn’t my old friend, the dawing realization that I fucked up real bad.

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59.I’m a screamer. Not sexually, just life in general.

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60.I’m not racist, I hate everyone equally.

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61.Tell me I’m cute or something, so I can roll my eyes at you, but then blush when I think about it later.

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62.You know when your hair is greasy and it makes you feel so bad about yourself? And your entire life. Everything is awful because my hair is greasy.

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63.True love is having a crush even when he got a haircut you know.

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64.Emotions? You know, I just push my tear back into my eye and tell it “Not now, you little bastard!”.

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65.Are we gonna hold hands, or what?

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66.My soul leaving my body, but with one of those slide whistle sound effects.

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67.A: I love you.

B: What if I got a bowl cut?

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68.I should really stop planning my future around being rich or famous…but I can’t.

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69.I’m aggressively thibking about having sex with you and trying to keep a straight face at the same time. Do you know hOW hard that is?

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70.My opinion is no.

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71.Did you fall from heaven, because so did Satan.

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72.What to hear a fairytale? Once upon a time you weren’t such a little bitch.

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73.Which is messier - my life or my hair?

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74.How can you face the problem when the problem is your face?

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75.Sometimes I wonder what it feels like to know wHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON.

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76.Read a girl who dates books.

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77.My hands are cold let me put them in your pants.

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78.I’m sorry, you must be at least level 4 friend to unlock my tragic backstory.

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79.My therapist once told me that I have this obsession with seeking revenge…we’ll see about that.

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80.You have lips, I have lips…interesting.

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81.Do my dark undereye circles and unwashed hair turn you on?

/PART TWO/


/170715 ; a Temporary side note: please for the moment don’t send me requests with the numbers that have a (*). I’ve received so many requests with those, I’m starting to run out of ideas :D Thank you ! / - persuasivus

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the angel dropped through the hole in the roof, eyes immediately locking on yours. there was a second where things seemed to stop. his eyes searched yours. you felt someone grab your hand and you remembered everything happening, how you were about to be teleported and the plane was about to crash.

the last thing you saw before you teleported was the angel’s outstretched hand, as if he was reaching for you.

Title: Faux Pas
Fandom: X-Men
Word Count: 1,307
Characters: Warren Worthington III x Reader, Jubilation Lee
Reader Gender: Female
Warnings: Alcohol mentions, swearing
Notes: Request from anon for “’You’re really hot, shame about the personality’ from one of your prompt lists (with warren please)”

Originally posted by brownvalerie

“Please let me set you up!”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

Conversations such as these were frequent between Warren Worthington III and Jubilation Lee. The latter of the two was nothing if not persistent – and the former was nothing if not stubborn.

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Santa Baby

Originally posted by arroid-cosplay

Warren Worthington III x Reader

Santa Baby

Author: Morgan

Prompt: For the Christmas prompts: Reader running around trying to put Christmas hats on all the X Men? (Kurt, Peter, Scott, Jean, Charles, Logan and Warren if you want to haha) Anyone in X Men haha :) Merry Christmas!

Note: One of the many Christmas prompts that we never wrote… lmao whoops. And because I’m a ho, I made this Warren x reader even though it was never specified. Oops.

The power of invisibility came with many perks. One of which, you were using right now to Santa-hat ambush your teammates. First was Kurt. He was the easiest, despite the fact that he was a teleporter. At the moment, he was curled up on the couch, a mug of cocoa in-hand. He was very cozy, and as you stuck a red and white hat on his head, he didn’t so much as flinch. In fact, he smiled, very excited to embrace his first holiday season in America.

Next came Peter. This was easier said than done. Even with your invisibility, every time you got close to him, he zipped across the room to do something. But after about ten minutes of chasing him down, he too was wearing a Santa hat.

After Peter, you pulled a Santa Hat onto Scott’s head. He was too busy kissing Jean to notice. But when he pulled away, he caught sight of the fuzzy white poofball attached to the red hat’s tail.

“What the-?”

“Watch,” Jean whispered. Sure enough, more Santa hats began appearing on the heads of their friends around the room from seemingly nowhere, and seeing as Peter was preoccupied and the room wasn’t full of smoke, there was only one other person it could be. You.

And after you had Santa’d Jean, Charles, Ororo, Jubilee, Hank, and Logan, there was only one person left.

Warren.

Your cheeks began to burn at the thought of it, but you pushed yourself onwards. He was leaning against the wall, away from the others, watching with a bemused smirk. If he heard one more comment about him being the Christmas angel or something that involved him climbing on top of that tree, he was going to shove it so far up Peter’s ass-

He looked around the room. Everyone except him was wearing a Santa hat. Had they been like that a minute ago? He was sure they hadn’t. Wait a minute.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispered softly. You froze in place, your arms poised just above his head. A smirk tugged at your lip, and another idea struck. You leaned in very slowly and pressed a long kiss to his cheek. He grinned and reached out for you, a large hand settling on your shoulder. His touch shocked you into visibility, and suddenly you were standing there in front of him, wearing your candy cane-striped pajamas with rosy cheeks and wide eyes. He brushed the hair out of your face, his rough fingers brushing against the soft skin of your face. You stuck the Santa hat on top of his golden curls, a mischievous twinkle in your gaze. He exhaled a long breath, just looking at you. And then he pulled you in for a sweet, holiday kiss.

Wings - A Warren Worthington III imagine

@typicalserialkiller requested “Warren Worthington imagine where he’s embarrassed of his wings so until you show up to the school and also have wings and help him with his confidence about them”


Warren can you come downstairs, the voice of Professor X echoed through Warrens mind. He let out a sigh and pulled the headphones off his head getting off his bed and trudging down the stairs.

He saw the professor and professor McCoy standing by the main doors with a girl. Not just any girl though she had small feather wings coming out of her back like his old wings. The breath felt pulled out of his lungs. 

Part of his mind went to anger. Not towards her of course. But the fact that she still had beautiful wings and now he had metal killing wings which made everyone hate him.

Looking past the professors she saw him and he was able to notice the moment her mind took in someone else had wings, it put a large smile on her face.

“Y/N this is Warren he’s a student at the school. I thought he could show you around.” The professor explained looking expectantly at Warren.

“I mean sure whatever.” Warren shrugged off the ask earning a roll of the eyes from both professors. Y/N moved quickly past the two older men and to Warrens side.

“Take the lead then Warren.” 

Warren just began to walk off. He always had to have the bad boy I don’t care exterior so no one saw he was actually emotional. 

Y/N made up for his silence by explaining how she came to the school, that she liked his leather jacket, and that she hopes they could be friends. 

-

Friends are exactly what they became. Being new at the school was hard. Some lunches Y/N would spend the whole time asking him questions and talking herself. Some lunches they sat in silence. Warren wasn’t sure which he preferred. 

One lunch they were sitting outside on the grass and Y/N had her wings stretched out to full length as keeping them by her side was cramping sometimes. 

“Why don’t you stretch out too Warren? If it hurts me it must hurt you your wings are a lot heavier.” Y/N suggested causing him to look up at her.

With her wings out she did look really heavenly.

“I don’t want to.” Simple answer but it made Y/N frown all the same.

“Why not? You always try to keep in your wings I’m sure they would be pretty impressive out.” She didn’t mean it taunting. She didn’t mean it painful but it still hit a cord in his feelings.

Warren scoffed, standing up. “Y/N we don’t all have nice feather wings damn it! People hate the sight of me because of mine alright? I hate them. I hate to look in the mirror or see people’s expressions trying to get by me in the hall. My wings are hurtful and ugly and nothing but a big scar.” 

His voice seemed strained at the end like he was trying to keep in his emotion. Y/N couldn’t reply she was too shocked looking up at him from her sitting position with an expression of horror. 

Warren just walked back to his room hating himself now for both his wings and for yelling at one of the only people who cared for him. 

-

Some time passed before there was a knock on Warren’s door.

“Go away.”

“Warren, it’s me can I come in?” Y/N asked from the other side of the door her voice quiet but worry obviously laced in it. 

There was a moment of silence and Warren sighed before opening the door. Y/N was relieved to see him as she had spent the last hour putting together her thoughts. 

Gently with her hand on his chest, she pushed him into the room and shut the door behind them.

“Y/N-” Warren started but she cut him off putting up a hand as if to say stop. “ You had your chance to talk now let me.”

“You don’t like your wings which I don’t understand in the least. They are part of you Warren and yea they are metal but they are still beautiful. If you were proud of them people wouldn’t care so much. And why do you care I’m sure you have no problem telling those people to fuck off. You are beautiful Warren I mean it.” Y/N finished her little speech with a huff of breath.

Warren didn’t have words to reply.

“Be confident in your wings Warren. They may be a quote scar but they are the most badass war wound I have ever seen,” Y/N remarked actually making Warren laugh a little. 

“So show me your wings streched out.” It seemed more a demand then an ask but the smile on her face let him knew it was alright.

Warren showed her his full wingspan and knocked over the radio on his desk in the process. They both paused and looked over.

“…I’ll buy you a new one Warren but nice progress.”

-

@emmcfrxst  
@rax-writes we haven’t talked but I’ve seen from Pasc’s blog you like Warren soo

ten minutes in heaven [warren worthington iii]
warnings: Language, Sex mention (a lot), light smut (like this gets kind of heavy, but I do not write actual smut so)

word count: 2057


    It had started out harmless.

    Just a harmless game of truth or dare, but then again, nothing involving these rowdy teenagers was innocent.

Scott had gotten cocky, as he did on occasion, and called the group together. He claimed that you were going to have some ‘team bonding.’ You had laughed and asked him what that meant, but he would not tell you, instead forcing you into the room where everyone was gathered.

When everyone gathered in the living area, you sat on the couch next to Warren. This led to the group letting out various wolf whistles because they all knew that you and the angel were dating.

Scott then announced that you would be playing a few games of truth or dare. You had rolled your eyes and muttered, “Yeah, ‘team bonding.” It was a sarcastic, quiet mutter, and you thought no one had heard you, but Scott, from your other side, pushed you off the couch. You landed on the ground with a huff and looked up at your boyfriend who was laughing at your current predicament.

You turned and slapped him on the knee, but the action only caused him to laugh even harder.

“I’m sorry, baby. You’re just too cute,” Warren made out through gasps and chuckles. You frowned and crossed your arms like a child, and Warren reached down. He grasped you by your arms and pulled you up to your feet. He then proceeded to pull you into his lap, seeing as Kurt had taken your spot on the couch.

Warren wrapped one of his wings as well as an arm around you and squeezed your body close to his. You snuggled closer to him, laying your head underneath his chin and wrapping your arms around his neck. The Archangel dropped a small kiss to your forehead and the rest of the group groaned at your public display of affection.

Seconds later, Scott was trying to explain to Kurt what the game was as the smol blueberry cutie had no idea what truth or dare was.

You laughed and got off of Warren’s alp to grab a drink from the kitchen, questioning if anyone else wanted anything. Peter had called out that he wanted a soda and a Twinkie, and you chuckled telling him that you’d only get the soda.

When you arrived back in the room, you tossed the can of soda to Peter who quickly grabbed it and popped the lid. You sauntered back to Warren who held out his arms childishly, wanting you to come and sit on his lap once again.

“C’mere baby,” He seductively spoke, the words causing your cheeks to enflame and turn a bright shade of pink.

You walked back over to your cherubic boyfriend and when you got close enough, he reached out and grasped your hips. He yanked you down into his lap and wrapped his wings around you once more. He knew that you absolutely adored his feathered wings, which he had recently gotten back thanks to Hank’s intelligence. You stroked the pristine, white feathers in your hands, and Warren attempted to contain a small moan, but was unable. He groaned out and tossed his head back, causing the rest of the group to holler and laugh at him. Warren blushed, but was not ashamed; his wings were sensitive and when you stroked them, he was unable to hold back his pleasure.

When the game finally started, it had been innocent. Small, easy questions like ‘who do you like?’ or ‘how old were you when you had your first kiss?’ Simple dares like: ‘go jump in the pool’ and ‘go scare Charles and Erik downstairs.’

Then it got dirty.

Scott had asked Jubilee when she lost her virginity.

Jean dared Peter and Kurt to kiss.

You had chuckled and hoped that no one thought to ask you anything bad.

Then Peter spotted you.

It had coincidentally been his turn and he asked you to pick truth or dare, and you had bravely picked dare. That had been a mistake on your part.

Peter rubbed his hands together, a plan forming in his head.

“Stand up,” The silver haired speedster commanded, so you did. He then told Warren to do the exact same thing.

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked to Peter, “What are you doing Peter?”

Peter laughed and then replied, “You and loverboy are going to play my favorite game: Ten Minutes in Heaven.”

Warren chuckled with his arms still wrapped around your waist, “Peter, it’s Seven Minutes in Heaven, dumbass.”

Peter rolled his eyes at the wing-adorned boy, “Yeah, I know that. I just don’t think you can get anything done in that time. I mean, you’re not me.” Peter boasted, which caused you to lean farther into your boyfriend with a smirk. You had been dating for a few years, and you knew exactly what he could do with seven minutes.

Warren smirked and his wings tightened around your frame, “Oh, I think seven minutes is enough time to get her crumbling beneath me.”

Your eyes widened at his blunt remark, the rest of the room letting out cat hollers and whistles. Warren only continued to smirk before rolling his lips into your back. You coughed and sputtered when you felt his obviously hard erection on your back. Warren held you tighter to him and repeated the action which led to Peter yelling at the two of you to get started in the room rather than in front of him.

You laughed nervously and stared up at Warren. You marveled at the tattoos on the sides of his face and the side of his scalp. You grew aroused when you thought about how the tattoos followed down his sides and onto his muscular stomach. Having the pleasure to trace those tattoos with the tips of your fingers and your tongue one night was the best thing you had ever experienced. Well, it was not really your pleasure, more like Warren’s. He had groaned and arched his back when you lightly traced the lines close to the hem of his sweat pants. Beads of sweat rolled of his forehead as you played with the strings that kept his pants from falling off. Warren continued to groan until you used your fingers to pull the sweat pants off.

By the time you came back from the memory, Warren was dragging you in the direction of his room. You followed behind him, almost melting in your own arousal.

When you reached his room, the door was immediately shut behind you and Warren reached behind you to lock it. Before you could do anything, Warren had you pressed against the door, his lips finding your neck and latching on. He used his plump lips to scour for your sweet spot, and when he did, you let out another moan and tossed your head back against the wooden door. The archangel smirked against your neck and sucked on the spot harder, no doubt leaving a dark purple mark for you to cover later.

Warren let his lips still for a moment before he spoke, “What do you think, baby? Think I can get you crumbling beneath me in seven minutes?”

You nodded your head frantically before responding, “Fuck yeah, you can. You just might need some more time after for a few extra rounds.”

Warren smirked again and began walking backwards, his wings expanding to their full fifteen foot length. You practically melted at the sight of his wings, and Warren knew it. He knew you had a fucking wing kink and used it to his advantage. The angel knew that the thing you loved most about him (Well, this was debatable) was his large, white wings. Warren smirked and puffed out his feathers and let you watch them for a few moments, before he extended his muscular arms as well. He nodded his head once before he flexed his biceps, the action causing you to whimper under your breath.

Warren chuckled and motioned for you to step forward, “Then we better get started, babygirl.”

You moved forward, attaching your lips to his. Warren responded with enthusiasm, tilting his head to the side so he could dominate. He slipped one hand up to your neck, tilting your own head to the side. He ran the tip of his tongue along the edge of your bottom lip. Granting him access to your mouth, he slipped his tongue into your mouth and rolled his hips up into yours. You groaned and Warren pulled his mouth away for a split second to whisper, “Jump.”

So you did.

You jumped into the air, trusting Warren to catch you. When he did, his arms were underneath your ass, supporting your weight.

The blonde angel walked backwards towards his bed. He let you fall first, so that he could lay on top of you. He reconnected his lips to your neck, allowing you to arch your back into his chest. You dropped your hands to run down his hard chest and you played with the hem of his shirt. Warren got the message and leaned back away from your body so that he could pull the shirt over his muscular body. It seemed to go in slow motion as you watched the shirt leave his body.

God, you had the hottest boyfriend.

From his muscular biceps, his chiseled six-pack, and his sharp v-line; you melted under him.

Warren let you watch him for a few moments before he reached down and pulled your shirt over your own body. This led to him marveling your body just as you did to him.

“I’m so lucky,” Warren whispered, his eyes deep and dark with lust as they scanned over the bare skin.

You pulled his lips back down onto yours by grabbing him by the back of his neck. He let one of his hands drop and roam around your body. You let out a few moans as he did so, and you raised a hand to pull on his gorgeous blonde locks. This caused Warren to let out one of his own moans, and you smiled at you achievement.

As for Warren’s wings, they were transferring between extending to their full length and curling around your body. At one point, you raised your other arm to stroke his sweet spot. Because his wings were sensitive as he just got them back, he had a sweet spot; it was just above his right shoulder blade. When you stroked it with your fingers, Warren collapsed above you. He kept his weight from crushing you, but his wings shuddered and his head threw back. He moaned out again and you let yourself arch into him.

Warren took your lifted back to his advantage, so he reached behind you to grab ahold of the clasps of your bra. With one flick of his fingers, he unclasped it from your chest. He quickly pulled the straps from your arms and let the material fall. He chucked the useless bra away from you, his movements becoming frantic and rushed as he grew more aroused.

When Warren finally let his hands fall to the hem of your pants, there was an interruption.

Knocking was heard on the door, and a voice shouted out, “Hey, your time is up!”

Peter.

The both of you ignored his voice and continued your actions.

Minutes later, Peter knocked again, “Hey guys? Can you even hear me over your fucking?”
    Warren laughed against your skin and pulled his head up from your stomach, where he was layering kisses along the soft skin.

The angel spoke next, diverting Peter from opening the door, “Hey Peter? Can you please fuck off? We’re going to stay in here to finish some important business!”

You moaned beneath Warren as he reattached his lips to your stomach.

Peter was heard shuffling outside the door and his voice rang out one last time, “Okay fine, but if you guys fuck again, can you keep it down? I didn’t get any sleep last time you fuckers went at it!”

Warren ignored the comment and finally let his lips graze the hem of your pants. Then in one swift motion, he pulled the pants off of you and smirked, “Let’s see what I can do with unlimited time then.”

2

The wind gusted around you suddenly, making your papers fly into the air. You sighed, used to the silver haired boy always popping up to see you. 

“Hey, Y/N.” He grinned.

“Hi, Peter.”

“I just wanna say that I love every bone in your body-”

“Awe. Thanks Peter, you’re so swee-”

“Especially mine.”

“Maximoff!”