g iii

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!”


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.”


Sans titre par Brent
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the adventure zone ~ team sweet flips

well I have something for you too, carey.
another- a second duck?
well, uh, well, hold on.

and Magnus reaches in his pocket and pulls out a wooden ring, that he’s carved, with like a rose on top, and it’s carved out of rosewood.

I made you this. I had to guess at the size, but, I think this would fit killian, if you would like to put it in the box for her- it’s completely up to you, I won’t say a word.

…that’s a real sweet thought.

Sturmgeschütz III Ausf. G. Auto &Technik Museum, Sinsheim

Fahrgestell number 105333. Built by Altmärkische Kettenwerk GmbH in May 1944.

you’re my angel [warren worthington iii]

Originally posted by xmendaily

warnings: Movie spoilers, language, sex mention, angst, death mentionW O R D COUNT: 4835

italic = flashback

    You had promised him that you were not going to get involved. You had promised.

    Warren watched from the skies, his metal wings keeping him from falling, as you jumped out from behind an abandoned building. His eyes grew wide and his focus fell, causing him to drop a few feet because his wings stopped moving.

    When he recaptured his focus, he trained his eyes on you. He did not want you to be involved with Apocalypse, in fact; he was only fighting for Apocalypse because he wanted fair treatment for all mutants, especially you. Warren had always been an advocate for such cause, especially because he came from a mutant fighting ring. He had been forced to fight other mutants since his wings came to be. The fights were gory and sometimes resulted in death; it was not something he liked to remember. When Apocalypse found him, he had given him a second chance; a chance to be something and live a life outside of a cage. It was not the best life, seeing as people were afraid of him, but he was okay with it as long as he did not have to live inside a cage.

    However, after meeting you, it was a different story.

    He had met you after Apocalypse had found him and given him his metal wings in exchange for the soft, white ones he used to sport.

    The Archangel had found you in an alleyway in Berlin. Your body had been beaten, sunk in on itself for protection. Legs curled beneath your body, and your head had fallen into your hands. Your frail body was covered in colorful bruises, and some of your bones were not bent in the right way. It was obvious that some humans had thought it would be funny to abuse a harmless mutant. Just the idea of it made Warren’s wings itch.

The moment he saw your face when it lifted from your hands, he was breathless.

    In all his life, he had never seen someone so beautiful. Even covered in scars and wounds, Warren had never witnessed a more perfect face.

    Your cheekbones were sculpted and your lips full; Warren could not take his eyes off you.

    “Hey,” he whispered softly, his wings moving inward so that he would not hit the walls encasing the two of you. His voice was surprisingly soft and sweet, something you had not heard in awhile.

    When you shrunk back away from him, he held his hands up. His curly, blonde hair fell into his eyes and he pushed it back, away from his face.

    “Hey, I’m not going to hurt you,” He whispered, “I’m a mutant, just like you.”

    He could tell you were a mutant by the way your eyes glowed. They were a fierce blue, electric and neon.

    Warren held out his hands, palms up, and began to approach you. Your shivering body was still afraid of his, but you let him continue walking towards you. His footsteps were light, a tactic he had learned for stealth.

    When he reached you, he knelt onto his knees and dropped one of his hands. He gently grabbed your pale chin with one of his fingers and lifted your face. His fingers were soft, as was your skin, and you shivered again; this time not because of the cold or fear.

    Your eyes reached his, and he knew he was done for.

    The electric blue of your eyes coupled with the few freckles dotted across your skin made Warren’s heart race. He could not get enough of you. It was like you were a drug and he was going through withdraw; needing more and more of you to keep him going.

    Your hands trembled, but he encased them with his own large ones, to keep them warm.

    It was then that Warren promised himself and you, that he would never let any more harm come to you.

He hid you from Apocalypse and any other humans or mutants that could cause you harm. From there, a relationship began. The two of you started dating when you began to trust him more. While the two of you were involved, Warren had found an abandoned barn with no relative neighbors. It was perfect for you; big enough for both of you to practice your powers, and it had rafters that Warren could fly up to. There also was no one around to see you chasing Warren around the grass, trying to catch him and spray him with water that sprouted from your fingertips.

He often wrapped his arms around your waist and flew up to the highest point in the barn and sat on one of the beams. There was a window near the roof of the barn where you could watch the sunset. Warren would hold you with his strong arms, his wings wrapped around you for extra protection. His lips would pepper kisses along your neck, making soft giggles erupt from your throat. Eventually, after the sun had fallen and the moon took it’s place, you would turn around and finish what he had started.

Later in the morning, it was not uncommon to find the two of you still up in the rafters; just this time, neither of you wearing clothes.

Those were the moments that Warren savored. Because he often had to leave to work with Apocalypse, those moments did not occur as often as he liked.

Of course the only reason he was working with that monster was you. After seeing you so beaten and broken, Warren had joined Apocalypse so that you would have fair treatment among humans.

The angel only did things if it involved your protection.

Floating above the battleground, he watched as you moved forward, helping the X-men take down Apocalypse. Warren knew that you did not like that he was working for such a monster, but you understood why he had chosen to do so.

When he was about to leave for the fight, he had made you promise that you would not get involved. It was not that he did not think you couldn’t protect yourself; it was that you would do anything to save people from pain, even if it meant inflicting it upon yourself.

Warren’s wings fluttered in anticipation. He was anxious about going into battle and leaving you here alone. Of course, he had done it before, but this was not a battle he was sure he would come home from.

He took a step towards you and wrapped both his arms and his wings around you, tears welling in his eyes.

“Promise me you won’t come to help,” he whispered in a broken voice. If you were to come to fight and get hurt or even killed, Warren would not be able to live with himself.

You shook your head sadly, not able to make that promise. Arms tight around his frame, you looked up at him, “Warren, you know I can’t make that promise.”

“Angel please,” he cried, voice cracking. Angel was the silly nickname he had given you; even though he was the one with wings, you were the Angel in his life. You were the one to save him from the horrors of his past.

“Warren,” you trailed off.

Tears began to fall from his eyes, dripping onto your hair from above. His nose buried itself into your hair and you inhaled his sweet scent through his uniform.

“No,” he spoke, voice harder than it was before, “I can’t leave here until you make me that promise.” He pulled away so he could look into your eyes, “Because you know that I cannot even think of living in this Godforsaken world if you’re not in it. You’re the only thing getting me up in the morning and the only thing keeping me going during the day. You are the only one who sees me for me instead of some mutant freak with wings; you understand what it’s like and you don’t abuse me for it. You see my wings as part of me instead of some weapon or some freak show. After I got out of that mutant ring, I didn’t think I would ever feel normal again. I thought I was always going to feel like a murderer or some thing that could be controlled. But then I met you. You were broken just like me: damaged and scarred. Somehow, in some way, we managed to fix each other. I felt like a person again; I felt useful and worth something. You made me believe that my wings were a part of me and that they are beautiful. You made me that way, Angel; I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.”

By the time he finished talking, both your eyes were overflowing with tears and you were clinging to him as if you were abandoned at sea and he was the only piece of driftwood. Sobs erupted out of both your mouths and you buried your face into his chest.

Nodding softly into the muscles of his shoulder, you managed to make out a few words through sobs, “I promise, I promise.” You repeated the words over and over to comfort both yourself and Warren.

When he attempted to pull away, you reached out and pulled him back to you. You arms wrapped around his torso and squeezed. He reciprocated the hug before pulling away and placing his hands on your cheeks. His thumbs wiped away the tears that leaked out of your eyes before sweetly pressing a kiss to your temple, “You’re my Angel.”

You raised yourself onto the tips of your toes before responding, “And you are mine.” The simple words meant so much more than the ‘I love you’ that other couples would use.

Before he could pull away, you quickly placed your lips onto his, savouring the sweet, and possibly last, kiss you would ever share. His lips fit with yours almost as if they were meant to fit together. Warren’s mouth tasted sweet, of the strawberries that you grew outside the barn. You eagerly kissed him, slipping you tongue into his mouth, wanting to remember as much of Warren as you possibly could. Warren responded with just as much eagerness, slipping his own tongue into your mouth. When he reached to entangle his fingers in your hair, you had to pull away.

“We should stop this before neither of us can,” you whispered. Warren nodded softly and pulled away from you after kissing your forehead one more time.

His wings flapped a few times, signally he wanted you to step back so he could spread his wings to their full length. When you did, you were once again amazed at the sight of his wings. They were magnificent; Warren just wished you could have seen them when they were still feathers.

Warren nodded to you once before he shot up, his wings propelling him into the sky, where you took one last glance at his frame before you got ready to leave.

The Archangel was unable to do anything as he watched you advance towards Apocalypse. He knew it was a bad idea, but it was like he was frozen, unable to warn you. His body was in such shock that all he could do was watch as you got closer to the mutant.

Apocalypse’s back was turned to you, a perfect time to attack. You reached your hands out, palms facing his back. Your mutation began to take over, ice flowing from your fingertips. It was beginning to wrap around Apocalypse’s ankles, when he turned to face you.

It was so fast that everyone missed it.

He grabbed you by your neck and lifted you off the ground. His large hand gripped your throat, effectively cutting off your air. Your hands reached up to grip his hands, trying to pry them off your throat. It was no use, as he was far too strong for you.

You began to sputter at the lack of air, your body shaking. Veins appeared on your forehead and your face turned a horrible shade of red. You coughed and gasped, trying to inhale air, but you were unable to do so.

From the air above you, Warren’s eyes widened in surprise. His mouth dropped in fear. This was exactly what he had feared would happen. It was the exact reason he wanted you to stay back at the barn, where he could return to you and you could live happily ever after.

Unfortunately, ‘happily ever after’ was not the case.

Before Warren could fly down to save you, Apocalypse threw your body away from him. Your body flew through the air and Warren began flying faster than he ever had before.

It was like everything was in slow motion as Warren tried to reach your body before it hit the ground. He furiously flapped his metal wings, his heart aching as he watched you fall. Before your body hit the ground, you looked up and made eye contact with him. Your Archangel. When your eyes met, he knew. You knew. It was too late for you, he wasn’t going to be able to get to you fast enough. Just before you body made impact, his mouth opened and he screamed out in pain as he watched, “NO!”

The X-men turned at the scream, their hearts breaking as they watched Warren reach his hand out. They watched with sad eyes as your body hit the ground, your neck snapping at an odd angle and Warren screamed out again. The team watched as he made it to your broken body. Their heads lowered to look at the ground as they felt the pain of another fallen mutant.

Warren had landed next to your body.

His hands hovered over you, not willingly to touch you in fear it would hurt you even more. But that didn’t matter, your life had already been taken.

Your neck had broken upon impact.

Warren looked over your body, trying to find something that indicated that you were still there. Still there with him.

He finally reached out and took your body into his arms. Warren wrapped his arms around your frail, broken frame and pulled you into his lap. He slowly began rocking back and forth, tears falling from his eyes. The broken angel openly sobbed as he ran his hands frantically through your soft hair. His body shook with each sob and the X-men watched with broken hearts as he begged you to come back to him.

“No, no please,” Warren whimpered, his voice cracking, “Please get up.”

The X-men then realized that Warren was not one of the bad guys. He was just someone so deep in love, someone trying to protect the only thing he had left. He was just a broken soul, longing for yours to come back to him.

“Please, you’re all I have left, Angel,” He whispered to your broken body, “God, don’t do this. Don’t do this to me.”

He was shivering on the floor, “You’re all I have left, please! I can’t do this without you, so don’t leave me!” He was shouting at the end of his words, hoping that you would get up and be with him again.

After a few minutes of graveling over your body, Warren began to feel vengeful.

He took you from him. That mangy bastard who promised him that you would be safe if he followed him.

Warren’s body shook with rage and he slowly placed your body onto the concrete beneath his feet. He raised one of his hands and slowly placed them over your open eyelids. He moved his hands downward, closing your dead eyes as a sign of respect.

His eyes never left your body as he stood up, his frame no longer shaky. His jaw clenched in anger and furious tears leaked from his crystal blue eyes.

His wings began to extend to their full length, a frightening sight as they were almost twenty feet at their full length. The metal shifted, looking terrifying as he took a step back from your body.

Warren whispered a few broken words before his body turned to face Apocalypse and the X-men, “We will meet again.”

Warren’s whole body was filled with undeniable rage and a strong surge of vendetta arose within him. He clenched his fists and took a threatening step towards the mutant who caused your death.

He stood in front of the mutant who thought he was a God and shrugged his shoulders back.

The X-men realized what he wanted to do and filed in behind him. They created a triangle around the Archangel, a formation that conveyed that they were a team. He looked at Apocalypse with fury in his eyes.

“You took her from me,” Warren spat, his voice low and threatening, “Consider this mercy.”

Then he opened his wings quickly, and feather shaped knives flew from inside them. The blades were sharp and slid through the air with ease. From behind the Angel, the rest of the X-men unleashed their powers.
    Scott whipped off his glasses, the red lasers shooting from his eyes. They flew right on target, hitting Apocalypse in the chest.

Jean stood behind Scott, her power encasing the mutant.

Alex, like his brother, shot a red laser-like bolt from his chest and into the mutant.

Peter, Mystique, Charles, Hank, and the rest of the X-men unleashed their powers upon Apocalypse.

Even Erik and Storm joined the fight. After all, you were their friend too.

With all the mutants combined powers, Apocalypse did not have a chance to even fight back. He quickly fell to his knees, the X-men overtaking him. He cried out, realizing that this was his last stand.  

When the X-men finally stopped, there was nothing left of Apocalypse.

Not even his ashes.

Warren fell to his knees in his place.

He had no one left; you were gone.

The blonde stared at his hands sadly, tears beginning to rise once again.

Jean Grey then took a step forward, feeling empathy for the fallen mutant. An idea sparked in her head as she looked to you and then to Warren. She did know of a way to bring the fallen girl back. There was a mutant back at the school that might be able to bring her back from the dead. Even though Jean did not know you well, she did know that you did not deserve to die.

However, it was a long shot. The mutant was not trained and might not be able to do anything for you. Deciding it was best not to tell Warren that, she simply walked forward and placed a hand on the broken Angel’s shoulder.

“You know,” She began, “You can come back with us.”
    Warren’s head shot up at the sound of her voice. When he pondered the question, he sadly shook his head.

“I don’t deserve a chance with the X-men, I was fighting against you; against the right thing,” he whispered.

Jean shook her head, “No. You were fighting for her. You only made the choices you did because you believed that it would keep her safe, that’s not a mistake, Warren; that’s love.”

Warren looked up at the redhead with tears falling from his eyes, before turning to face the rest of the X-men. When he saw they all held the same expression that Jean did, he made the decision.

Warren nodded his head, believing that you would want him to take this chance. That you would be proud of him.

Jean watched as Warren stood up, following behind her as they walked back to the Jet. She was not going to tell him about you unless she was positive she could bring you back.

The ride back to Xavier’s school was silent; all head’s lowered as a sign of respect for the fallen mutant.

    It was a three weeks later when the mutant at Xavier’s school managed to wake you.

    What happened?

    Am I awake?

    Thoughts raced through your head as you ran through possible scenarios of what happened.

    It isn’t possible, I died! My neck snapped, I must be dead.

    Unable to open your eyes or move your body, you sat there in silence.

    It was not possible for you to be alive, but somehow you still felt sensations in your body.

    You felt the pain in your neck and in your limbs. You felt the soft mattress beneath your body and the cold air around your fingertips.

    Oh my god, I’m alive! This isn’t possible, how is this real? What about Warren? Oh god, he must think I’m dead.

    Your train of thoughts was broken when you heard another voice.

    “Charles! I think she’s waking up!” It shouted. You shrunk back from the loud tone, surprised when your body actually moved.

    You sat up quickly, vibrant blue eyes flashing open. Your small frame inhaled deep. greedy breaths of air and your chest heaved with each inhale and exhale.

    When you looked around the small, cramped room, you were surprised to see that it looked like an infirmary. The bed was a small one with wheels so that you could be moved if needed and there was an IV stand next to your bed.

    You were dressed in normal clothing: a pair of jeans and a short sleeved shirt. When you finally focused on the people in the room, you recognized only one; Jean Grey.

    Your eyes frantically scanned the others, and when you did not see Warren, you made a move to get out of the bed. If he was not here, than he must have been dead. There was no other reason that he would not wait for you.

    The moment you stepped foot on solid ground, you collapsed into a pile; the pain being too much.

    Jean immediately took a step forward to help you, but you only held a hand up.

    “I can do it.”

Jean sighed, “I don’t doubt that you can’t, but you were legally dead half an hour ago.”

    Your head shot up at the words, “What?”

    Jean shook her head before she began explaining, “Your neck snapped when you went against Apocalypse. Thankfully, we defeated him and brought you back here. We have a mutant here with healing powers and he was able to bring you back, but you’ve been dead for three weeks.”

    Your head raced at the explanation before you returned to your previous thoughts, “Warren?”

Jean looked down at the ground for a moment before lifting her head to face you again, “We didn’t tell him that we were going to save you.”

“What?” The words were shouted, surprise filling your voice, “You didn’t tell the love of my life you were going to save me?”

Jean shook her head, “We didn’t want to tell him because we didn’t know if it would work. We didn’t want to make him feel even worse than he did if he found out that we couldn’t do it.”

You sighed and looked down at your hands, “Can I see him?”

    Jean smiled and nodded her head, “I think you should. I mean he hasn’t eaten or slept since he got here. He won’t talk to anyone either. He just sits on the roof of the school and drinks.”

    You sighed, realizing he was getting back into old drinking habits. When he had first found you in Berlin, he had been drinking to forget the horrible things he had been forced to do in that mutant fighting ring.

    Deciding it was time to see him, you took a small step towards the exit of the room. When you fell back to the floor, Jean chuckled.

    “I expected you to be a little sore after coming back to life,” Jean spoke, humor evident in her tone, “That’s why I asked Kurt to be here; he can teleport you to the roof.”

    The blue mutant with the tail at the other end of the room held up a hand and waved softly, “Hi.”

    You nodded your head back as a way of saying hello and smiled softly.

    Struggling to walk over to Kurt, you held out a hand, “Alright, let’s go see my Angel.”

    Seconds after the words were spoke, you felt a rush of air and then you were on solid ground again.

    The roof.

    When you turned you head to the edge of the roof, you almost burst into tears at the sight of your blonde haired Archangel sitting there. He sat with his feet dangling over the edge and a bottle of vodka by his side. He looked tired and drained, as if he had not slept in weeks. However, that was not the surprising thing about him; it was his wings.

They weren’t metal anymore.

His wings were no longer cold and a grey metallic color, they were white and made of feathers that looked softer than the clouds. They looked just like how he had described them in stories he used to tell you. The white wings looked so majestic, you were tempted to step forward and stroke them.

He was looking down at his hands sadly and he shook his head at the sound of Kurt.  

    “I said I don’t want to talk, Kurt,” He spoke. Kurt had left earlier to give the two of you some privacy, but you didn’t care; his voice was a silky and soft as you remembered it. Tears fell from your eyes and you took a small step in his direction, no longer shaky on your feet. All you cared about now was seeing the love of your life again.    

“I guess it’s a good thing that I’m not Kurt then, huh?”

    At the sound of your voice, Warren jerked his head to you. His eyes widened and he shook his head in disbelief. Before you could question about his wings, he had gotten to his feet and leapt forward. He didn’t care how you were alive, just that you were there, with him.

    His arms encased you body and he began to sob once again. His strong arms felt just like they did before, but this time the white wings that held you were soft instead of hard and metal.

    Both of you began to let tears fall as you let your head rest against his muscular chest. Warren squeezed you tighter in his arms and he let one of his hands run into your hair. He ran his slim fingers between the soft strands and tilted your head back.

    “How are you alive?” He questioned, but before you could respond, he cut you off, “You know what? I don’t care.”

    Then he lowered his mouth down to yours and kissed you like he’d never done before.

    His mouth was soft and felt heaven. One of hands held your neck softly, and the other one dropped to hold your waist. His large hands held your waist softly as if he were afraid to break you, and his thumbs brushed against your sides, sending shivers up your spine. When his tongue touched the edge of your bottom lip, you opened your mouth to let him in and he gratefully obliged. While furiously kissing each other, Warren’s wings fluttered to his hands and he began to lift off the ground.

    When he did so, you tore your mouth away with much difficulty and looked down at the ground. You hugged his body tighter to your own and he flew higher into the sky, smiling so bright that you thought the sun would be jealous.

    “How did you get your wings back?” You questioned softly, looking up at his perfectly sculpted face with the tattoo running up the side of it.

    He smiled and launched into a story about Xavier finding a process for him to get them back. It was very painful, wherein he had to tear off his metal ones and let the feathered ones grow back.

    You grimaced at the thought of him in pain, but Warren made you forget about it when he kissed you again.

    When Warren landed back on the roof of the school, he held you in his arms while the two of you watched the sunset, like old times.

    After the sun had set and the moon had taken its place, you turned in his arms to stare up at him.

    “You’re my Angel.”

    “And you are mine.”