Feather-Light Touches
Warren Worthington III x Mutant! Reader
A/N: ghost powers!! (healing + the opposite—harming??? possession, becoming a ghost???? etc etc) everyone is college aged!! loosely based on the 2007 First Class run by Jeff Parker—character wise, not in regards to the plot (except like one thing…maybe) I’m afraid I have to reference Psych in everything so…yeah
MDNI suggestive content
Not Proofread
Xavier’s Mansion is quieter today, the professor gone on a trip to DC. Since he’s been gone, there’s barely been anything to do. No missions, no classwork. It’s a nice reprieve from the usual chaos chaos.
Unfortunately, the team has never been very good at doing nothing.
“There’s gotta be someone to fight! The Brotherhood could’ve regrouped by now, right?” Bobby groans, throwing a metal can at your head.
You disappear, letting it phase through you as Jean writes another tally mark under your name.
“You missed.” Warren kicks his chair, sending Bobby skidding across the room. The temperature drops a few degrees as he slides across the ice forming beneath him.
“Your turn Hank.”
“This game is rigged against us. As long as she knows who is throwing, she can disappear in time!” Nevertheless, he still chucks the can at your abdomen, much faster than any of the guys have before.
You sidestep it.
“No fair! You’re not allowed to move.”
“You guys have been throwing cans at me for ten minutes, I’m done playing.”
“Warren still hasn’t gone!” Bobby reminds yo7c making you step back into position as Warren picks up a can.
He pretends to stretch before flinging it at a hurtling speed right beside your head.
“You missed.” You smile back, only to wince as it bounces off a table and slams into your shin. “Okay, games over.”
“Oh, come on! It was just getting fun.” Warren teases, grabbing another can. You smack it out of his hands, rolling your eyes.
“First to score wins, remember?”
“Hear that, boys?” Warren announces, pointing at himself with a grin. “I won.”
Scott grunts, adding Warren’s name to the top of the board.
“That’s my cue to leave.” You whisper to Jean, not wanting to deal with the arguments that are sure to follow regarding the rules of Toss the Can, but you obviously don’t speak quiet enough.
“What? You gonna hit the can?” Bobby snickers, quickly followed by a yelp as Scott smacks his arm.
“No, I’m—”
“Gonna haunt the house?” Jean teases, wiggling her eyebrows. You groan, turning to leave.
“I’m going for a walk!”
“In the cemetery?” The sound of Bobby’s laugh follows you until the door to the study slams shut behind you.
—
“What about brunch?” Jean suggests, leaning against the countertop as you finish icing the batch of cookies. There’s one in the oven and another waiting to go in.
Living with four college aged guys means you can never make the proper serving portions. Especially with Beast around.
That’s why you have to make the cookies now, when none of the boys are at the school.
“We should invite Wanda. She’s probably dying to get out of the house.” You add.
“I’ll call her now. You good with the cookies?” Jean waits for your affirmation before darting upstairs to her room.
The timer ends just as the front door opens. You silence it quickly, hoping they didn’t hear it, but it’s a lost cause. It won’t take them long to find you, they always do.
“Have you seen Jean?”
“Hey, Cyke. She’s in her room, but we’re about to head out.”
He snatches a cookie from the tray that just came out of the over, immediately regretting it as he burns his finger.
You sigh, passing him a cooled cookie as you grab his hand. Pinching his finger between your own, you wait for the redness to leave, a soft gray mist surrounding the skin that had burned.
When you pull away, there’s no evidence of it ever happening.
“Thanks.” He mumbles, mouth already stuffed full of cookie.
“It’s a handy power to have with you around.”
“I’m not that clumsy.”
“You just touched a pan that you watched me take out of the oven.”
“I was distracted.” He grumbles, stacking another cookie, this time one from the right tray.
“By Jean?” You tease, grinning as his cheeks flush.
“Whatever.” He mumbles, knocking his elbow against yours as he leaves the kitchen.
Sighing heavily, you turn back to the cookies in front of you. There’s so many left to ice after they cool. No way you’re getting to brunch in time. Maybe an early dinner.
“Want some help?” Your head snaps up, shoulders relaxing as you spot Warren, leaning in the doorframe.
Only it’s not him that spoke, but Bobby.
The younger man pushes past the blond’s wings, coming to a stop in front of the tray.
“If I help you, how many of these are mine?”
“Don’t be annoying.” Warren smacks the back of his head, slipping into the seat across the counter.
Crinkles form at the corners of your eyes as you match his smile, distracted momentarily from the overeager cookie consumer at your side.
“The whole tray.” You mutter, “If you deal with the ones in the oven too.”
He considers it for a moment, inconspicuously reaching for a cookie. You smack his hand away.
“Fine. Deal.” He shoves one in his mouth now that he’s been granted permission. “Where are you off to anyways?”
His words are muffled by the cookie, but you can hear him clear enough.
“Jean and I are going to brunch. And Wanda too, maybe.” You spare a glance at Warren, curious as to what his reaction will be.
He’d tried dating Wanda, only making it through about four dates before she broke up with him in front of everyone. And got beat up by Pietro—who found out they were dating at that exact second.
He nods, going back to his cookie, expression unreadable. Where’s a telepath when you need one?
Just as that thought passes, Jean reappears in the doorway, squeezing past Warren as he leaves the kitchen. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah, just a second.” You murmur, turning to face your fellow kitchen compatriot. “Okay, Bobby. Please don’t mess this up.”
“I can cook just fine!” He defends, crossing his arms.
“Bake, but sure.” You send him one last nervous look before following Jean towards the door.
“Wanda said she’d meet us there.”
You barely get two steps out the door before a hand grabs your shoulder, turning you to face him.
Warren smiles at you sheepishly, “Thought you’d want a better ride than the minivan.” He drops his keys into your hand, fingers lingering on your skin before pulling away. “And some money.”
“Okay, I guess I’ll get you some Quatro Queso Dos Fritos.” You roll your eyes but murmur a quick thanks nonetheless.
He grins, pressing a kiss to your cheek before pulling away. “You’re a doll.”
Your cheeks warm as you turn to leave him at the door, not wanting him to catch onto your flustered state.
“You’re a doll.” Jean mocks, a wicked grin tugging at her lips. “Ugh, who says that?!”
“Just drive.” You toss her the keys, making her squeal as she starts the car.
“Okay, I take back everything bad I’ve ever said about him.”
“Everything?”
“Well, maybe not everything. He’s still a bit conceited. But…in a hot way.”
“I can’t do this with you right now.”
—
The cafe is full enough for no one to pay the two, soon to be three, of you any attention, but empty enough that you can make a quick getaway if needed.
“So Wanda and I were talking…”
“Oh no.”
“What? Don’t say it like that!” She laughs, throwing a french fry at your face. You resist the urge to let it phase through you, not wanting to deal with the inevitable fallout that would bring. “I just wanted to run an idea by her.”
“And?”
“Well…”
“Spit it out, red.”
“Okay, okay. So we were thinking, you should go on a date.”
You blink at her. Out of everything she could’ve said, that was not what you expected.
“What?”
“A date! It could be a blind date, or someone you know! Just a date.”
“Why would I do that?” Your eyebrows furrow as you slowly bring your milkshake up to take a sip, not breaking eye contact with your friend.
She sighs loudly, “Because you’ve been sad. Like haunting the house type sad.”
“I have not been haunting the house! Or sad.” You amend.
She doesn’t even answer as she shoots you a pointed look. You fold under no pressure.
“So what if I’ve been sad? It’s been a rough few weeks on everyone.”
“Even rougher since Warren dated Wanda?”
“What?! No! She’s, I’m, he’s…okay. So not fair.”
She shrugs, frowning sympathetically. “She didn’t know at the time.”
“I know that.” You match her expression. “I don’t mind it, if it made her happy…”
“But you’re glad they broke up?”
“What does it matter anyways? He doesn’t like me.” You counter, deflecting.
Her frown deepens, “You don’t know that.”
“I think I do. He wouldn’t have dated Wanda if he liked me.”
“Or maybe he thought you weren’t interested.”
“What is your fixation with this?”
“I just think, maybe you should go on a date to make him jealous. Maybe it would make him finally confess his feelings.”
“I’m not going on a date to make him jealous.” You argue, not wanting to entertain her idea for a second long enough to be considered hesitation.
Jean rolls her eyes, “Fine. But maybe you should go on a date to see what’s out there? You’ve been in love with him since we got to the school, maybe it’s time to move on.”
You consider her words, thinking back to past six years. He’s part of most of your memories here. “I don’t know.”
It seems impossible to get over someone like Warren.
“What don’t you know?” Wanda finally arrives for brunch, tossing her bag onto the seat beside you.
“Nothing!” You spit out at the same time Jean speaks.
“I was just telling her she should go on a date. It might help her get over Warren.”
“Oh! Yes, that is a wonderful idea!”
“It’s really not.” You mumble, resting your head on the table. Maybe you should’ve skipped breakfast.
“No, no, this is great. I’ve got just the guy for you!” She shares a glance with the redheaded telekinetic, winking conspicuously. “Dinner tonight, okay?”
“No.”
“She’ll be there.” Jean interjects, completely ignoring your wishes.
“Who needs enemies with friends like these?” You groan as Wanda rubs your back soothingly.
“Don’t worry, dear friend. You will be so happy we made you do this.”
—
Jean and Wanda dragged you to at least ten stores, insisting on finding something for you to wear for the date later.
You entertained them, if only because Warren gave you money to spend, you might as well spend it, right?
Seventeen stores and even more shopping bags later, the three of you are ready to call it quits.
The bag of Quatro Queso Dos Fritos sits beside Wanda in the back row, carefully propped up between other bags.
“Are you excited?”
“No.” You huff, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. It’s been forever since you’ve been on a date, maybe not at all since you’ve been at the school.
“You so are!” Jean snickers, glancing at you carefully. “I promise, you won’t regret this.”
“I’m holding you to that.”
Her and Wanda exchange a look via the rear view mirror, but you pretend not to notice.
The mansion appears in your view, quickly growing larger as Jean speeds down the driveway.
“The professor is going to kill you if you crash into the bushes.”
“You can just bring me back!” She giggles, putting the car in park before taking the keys out of the ignition. She tosses them to you, winking as you catch.
“I am not bringing you back from the dead.”
“But won’t you miss me?” She bats her lashes, passing you the bag of takeout. You ignore her, heading inside.
“Okay, go find Warren! We’ll carry all the bags in.” She huffs.
“You have telekinesis, use it!”
She waves you off, too focused on gossiping with Wanda to argue with you anymore.
It doesn’t take long for you to find the guys, all huddled together in the gaming room playing poker.
“I come bearing sustenance.” You drop the bag into the center of the table, right beside the pile of chips. “Winner takes all?”
“That’s mine!” Warren accuses, reaching for the bag.
You shrug, smiling widely at him as you lean against the table, taking a peek at his cards. “Then I guess you’ll have to win.”
He grumbles, the feathers of his wings brushing your legs as he leans forward to add to the betting pool.
Scott folds, immediately standing from the table, probably leaving to go find Jean.
“What about you Iceboy? You staying in?”
Bobby scoffs, “I never fold.”
“That’s the worst way to play.”
“I have to win at some point!”
“Actually, statistically speaking—” Hank interjects.
“You’re always statistically speaking, McCoy. Just play, my food is getting cold.” Warren doesn’t even look away from you as he speaks, too focused on your fingers brushing along his feathers.
“Okay. Three of a kind.”
“Just wait, Ghostie. I’ll win next time.” Bobby winks at you, kicking back in his chair.
“I’m sure you will.” You smile softly, turning back to Warren.
His easy grin widens as he throws his cards down on the table. “Read em and weep, gentlemen. Full house.”
“Whatever. I still got more cookies than you.” Bobby grumbles before turning his attention back to you. “You’ll make more soon, right?”
“Maybe tomorrow.”
“You could make some tonight.”
“Not tonight, Bobby.” You hope no one notices the way your pulse jumps as you speak, the reminder of your impending date.
“Okay. Tomorrow then.”
“Maybe!” You call after him, but he’s already darting out the door before you can change your mind.
Warren scoffs, propping his chin up on his fist as he looks up at you, still sitting on the table.
You’re vaguely aware of Hank leaving the room, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. You appreciate the effort.
“Why not tonight? You got big plans?”
“Just something the girls roped me into.” Your cheeks warm. He hums absentmindedly, reaching for the brown bag on the table, pulling out the food.
He opens the to go box, a grimace appearing on his face as soon as he does so.
“What?” You ask, leaning over to look at the box. “Oh, wow, apparently they don’t travel well.”
“I see that.” He wrinkles his nose. “Scott will eat it.”
“Well, it’s not cereal or soup so I’m inclined to disagree.”
“Right. Hank?”
“Definitely.”
He pushes the bag away with a tired smile, “Maybe we should go get some sometime.”
“Like eat at the restaurant?” You raise a curious eyebrow.
“You know, since they don’t travel well.”
“Right.” You laugh, drawing the word out. “Well, I should get going.”
“Have fun.” He grins, eyes following you as you approach the door.
You turn around, smiling warmly. “And that would be nice. The restaurant, I mean.”
—
“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Bobby tosses a chip in the air before catching it in his mouth.
“There’s a little more subtlety to it than that.”
“It’s only been subtlety up to this point.” Scott barely looks up from his book to answer, only sparing a momentary glance towards the blond. “I don’t think she even knows you like her.”
“It’s a lot more than like!” Bobby snickers, “He keeps a picture of her in his wallet.”
“I don’t—”
“Wow. Okay, you should definitely ask her out before that becomes creepy rather than sweet.”
Hank finally interjects, “There’s a 97% chance she says yes when you ask her out.”
“You calculated my chances of getting a girlfriend?”
“Just the chances of you getting a date. Whether you mess it up after that or not is incalculable.”
“Wow, okay, thanks.” Warren scoffs, “What’s the other three percent?”
“Two percent that you’re interrupted by a mission before she can answer and one percent that you’re too late and she says no.”
He blinks at Hank, wanting to say something but not having any idea what to say to something like that.
“If only she didn’t already have plans tonight, you could’ve asked her out.” Bobby interjects. “Wait, did they tell any of you what they’re doing tonight?”
Scott flushes at the question but doesn’t answer, making a lump form in Warren’s throat.
“Scottie?”
“She’s uh, well, they’re…I don’t know how to tell you this.”
“Spit it out, man.”
“She’s going on a date.” His words are slow, red visor covering the guilty look in his eyes.
“What?!” The blond panics, “Then why are you trying to convince me to ask her out?”
“Because I figured she’d cancel once you ask!”
“Well I can’t now! She’ll think I only asked to get her to cancel.”
“This is actually very surprising. The one percent chance was more of a personal concern rather than an actual calculation.”
“Not helping, Hank.” He mutters, not looking away from Scott. “You’re unbelievable, man.”
“I’m sorry! Jean said—”
“Jean said? So Jean says something and you decide you can just betray your friends.”
“Would you just listen?”
“No, I’m going to find her.” He stands up, casting an angry glance back at the team leader before slamming his door shut.
The wood splinters but he pays it no mind. Hank can fix it later.
—
He hears you before he sees you, heels clacking against the entryway staircase.
He looks up, eyes widening as he watches you approach. You’re wearing a new dress, one he hasn’t seen before. Your shoes are new too.
With a painful ache in his chest, he realizes this is what the money he gave you went towards—a date with someone else.
He tries to swallow the lump building in his throat as he meets your gaze, but it doesn’t budge.
You smile softly, coming to a stop on the second step. “What’s wrong Warren? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
His mouth drops open, shocked that you can joke at a time like this. Although, you probably don’t feel like the world is ending, you’re just getting ready for a date.
“You look…”
“красивый.” Warren’s wings flutter as someone speeds past, coming to a stop in front of him, effectively cutting off his view of you.
“Pietro.” You gasp, making Warren’s blood boil. “Uh, hi.”
“You look as beautiful as always, printsessa. As radiant as a sky full of stars.”
Warren’s jaw slacks, this guy is really laying it on thick. Not that he’s wrong, you’re beautiful. You always are.
“Thanks.” Your smile is softer when you look at Pietro, almost bashful.
You haven’t smiled at Warren like that since he arrived at school. As the only girl at the school, he felt it was his obligation to flirt with you.
After a while, you got used to it, not knowing he was completely serious.
“Shall we be going?” The speedster asks, and when you nod, he lifts you into his arms bridal style.
Warren’s wings shiver, bristling at the sight.
Pietro winks at him, only furthering the blond’s anger.
Before he can say anything, you’re swept away and the front door is slamming shut with a dull thud.
He’s too late.
The thought doesn’t last long. It’s not like he can let you fall in love with that loser. He’s a jerk, he’ll never treat you as well as Warren can.
“We could spy on them.” Bobby suggests, peering his head out from around the corner. “If the girls set it up, I’m sure they know where they’re going.”
“Suit up, guys. We’ve got a mission.”
—
Scott immediately shut down the fake a mission to ruin your date plan, but he did bring binoculars and reserve a table at the restaurant.
Now, they just have to sneak in without being seen by you.
Fortunately, your back is turned. Unfortunately, your date has super speed, meaning no one is fast enough to sneak past him.
But he only raises a curious eyebrow before turning his attention back to you.
At least he’s paying attention, seeming genuinely curious as to what you have to say. Unless, that makes you fall in love with him.
Then that would be bad.
“You’re paying, right?” Bobby kicks his leg, opening up a menu. Warren ignores him, too focused on watching the small movements of your face. He can only see part of it, but it’s enough.
His wings try to ruffle, but are stuck beneath his coat. He wouldn’t have to wear his coat if you’d just stayed home tonight.
Why now? You haven’t gone on a date since he met you, at least that he knows of. That thought makes his stomach ache.
“This is her first date.”
“Ever?” Warren can feel the plastic of the binoculars cracking in his grip.
“Hey! Don’t break those! I won those fair and square in my happy meal.”
“They don’t even work.” He tosses them at Bobby, not turning his stare away from Jean.
She rolls her eyes, “Yes. Her powers didn’t really let her get close to anyone before.”
“So her and Pietro are close?” His throat feels dry.
She exchanges a glance with Wanda who just shrugs. “They seem to be.”
Wanda points towards the table you’re sitting at. It doesn’t take much convincing for him to turn around.
He’s moved by now, pulling his chair around the table to sit beside you. His arm is thrown over your shoulder, playing with the strap of your dress.
Warren can see your face now that you’re turned. You’re smiling at Pietro, eyes crinkling as you laugh.
“This is so much worse than I thought.” Scott mutters, red sunglasses perched on his nose.
Warren’s tempted to knock them off then point him at the nearest mirror.
“Don’t speak.” He spits, looking back at you.
You’re not at the table any more, having disappeared sometime while he was glaring at Scott.
Pietro approaches the table slowly, just to further taunt the blond.
“What are you doing? Playing espionage?” His accent breaks up the words slightly, but his tone is mocking enough to make Warren want to punch him.
“Having fun?”
“I will be, soon.” He casts a glance over his shoulder to make sure you’re not around. “She’s very pretty, I wonder how much prettier she’ll be n—”
He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Warren stands, slamming his fist into the speedster’s nose.
Gasps ring out around the restaurant as blood pours out of the now broken appendage.
“Don’t ever talk about her like that again!” He growls, moving to hit him again. Pietro dodges. Just as you appear behind him. Quickly phasing, his fist goes straight through you.
“What are you guys doing?!” Nobody gets the chance to answer your question as the restaurant breaks into chaos.
Panicked screams erupt, shouts of mutant freaks being in the building.
You sigh, glancing at the group warily. At least you’re at a restaurant a few towns over, not one where people will recognize you all right away.
Except maybe Warren.
You throw a napkin at his face, before tugging him towards the door.
A drink is thrown at you but you ignore it, too focused on removing the boy to stop it.
Red wine seeps into the fabric of your dress, leaving a sticky trail behind.
“You’re unbelievable, you know.” You murmur, dragging Warren into the alleyway behind the building.
The others will catch up soon enough.
“I’m unbelievable? You were on a date with the enemy!”
“Okay, first of all. Pietro is not the enemy, the brotherhood disbanded over a year ago. And two, don’t act like you weren’t dating Wanda as soon as they quit.”
“That’s what this is about? You’re jealous?”
“I cannot believe you.” You turn to leave him, not wanting to put up with this. He grabs your arm, fingers circling your wrist gently.
“Hey, I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. You’re allowed to do whatever you want.”
You nod stiffly, pulling your arm away as soon as the other round the corner.
“So, first date, kinda cool.” Jean teases, casting a wary glance at Warren.
The blond bristles.
Your attention is already on Pietro, “Sorry it didn’t work out.”
“We can always try again.” He winks.
You frown anxiously, “I’m okay, I think.”
“Well, if you ever change your mind, my sister knows where to find me.”
You laugh at that, the noise easing some of the weight in Warren’s chest. It’s a little hard to take his flirting seriously when he’s holding a bloody napkin over his nose.
Scott hands you your purse, having grabbed it before leaving the restaurant. “There’s not enough room in the car for all of us.” He directs the conversation away from Pietro, before he can flirt with you anymore.
“I can fly you back.” Warren offers, eyes wide as he stares at you.
“Okay.” Your smile is sheepish in return, growing flustered at the idea of him carrying you all the way back.
Warren offers his hand to take your purse, leading you further down the alleyway to take off.
Pietro lowers his breath, turning his glare towards his sister.
“Remind me to never let you set me up on a date again.” He grumbles, holding the napkin to his nose.
“You didn’t have to say that.” Jean shoots him a pointed look.
He shrugs, a grin tugging at his lips. “He wasn’t getting upset enough. Figured I’d speed things up.”
—
As you left the group, you decided to walk for a bit, not wanting Warren to touch you just yet.
That’s how you find yourself wandering through the gravel parking lot of a local bar.
“I must seem pretty pathetic, huh? Needing you to save me from a terrible date.”
“I’ll always save you.” He smiles genuinely, “And you’re not pathetic, I’d never think that about you.”
You laugh mournfully, “This is so stupid. I never should’ve listened to Jean.”
“What do you mean?” He tightens his grip on your purse as he watches you. Your head is downcast, watching your feet kick the gravel in the lot.
“She had this brilliant idea that this would help me get over you. She said I should go on a date, see what’s out there.” You mock, shaking your head as you turn to look at him. “But there’s really no way to get over you.”
“What?” His steps falter, mind racing to catch up with the words coming out of your mouth.
“I mean, even now. You punched a guy for me, offered to fly me home, and you’re carrying my purse. How is that fair?”
“You’re trying to get over me?” He’s not sure whether to be hurt that you want to, or thrilled you have feeling that you think you need to get over.
You tilt your head, eyes searching his face for any sign of amusement at your expense. You don’t find any, because of course you don’t. It’s Warren.
“Isn’t it obvious? I’ve only been in love with you since forever.”
“When?”
“I don’t know, sometime between you catching me when the jet crashed and bringing me dinner when I was sick.”
“I didn’t even know you could get sick. I was worried.” Your powers usually fight off any ailment, but apparently that doesn’t include the common cold.
“Me neither.” You smile softly, a sad look in your eyes. “Anyways, maybe this is what I needed. Just get my feelings out there and then I can start to move on.”
“What? No! I don’t want you to move on.””
“What? Why not?” Your eyes dart to meet his own that are blown wide with panic. He swallows thickly and you think you understand.
“Because I’m in love with you!” He reaches for you, clearing his throat.
Your head tilts, questions swirling in your mind but you push them away. There will be time to ask later. “Really?”
His fingers wrap around your biceps, holding you close. “Let me take you to dinner, please?”
“I’d like that.”
His perfect teeth flash as he smiles, arms looping around you as he pushes off the ground. “I know just the place.”
—
By the time you get back to the manor, it’s well past midnight. The chill night air is filled with the sound of both of you laughing as Warren fumbles with the lock on his window.
“Shouldn’t you be better at this by now?”
“I’m not usually breaking in.”
“Oh, right. You’re an escape artist.”
“I think the professor used the term caged bird.” Your giggles make the thought more bearable.
Ever since he first got his wings, he yearned to spend his days in the sky. Flying with no one to stop him, nothing in his way. But next to you, he doesn’t mind the idea of being grounded.
Not that you’d ever ask him to, which is probably why he feels this way.
“We can just go through the front door.”
“That’s not nearly as fun.”
“But it would be a lot less embarrassing for you.”
“I resent the accusation.”
“Sorry.” You press a kiss to his shoulder blade, his skin warm against your lips.
His wings ruffle, from the breeze or your touch, you’re not sure. Probably a mix of the two.
The lock finally clicks open, letting Warren slide the window open. He sets you down inside carefully before crawling in after you.
You’ve seen his room, but never like this. Not after a date.
“I had a lot of fun tonight.” You spin to meet Warren’s gaze. He’s already smiling at you, arms reaching to wrap around your waist.
He pulls you into him, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Me too.” He speaks the words against you, lips lingering against your hairline.
“So…”
“So.” He smiles, pulling away. “I’d like to do that again.”
“Which part? Spying on me or almost dropping me because you got distracted by fireworks.”
“The date.” He snorts, fingers tightening on your hips. “But a planned one.”
“Okay.”
“Yeah?”
You nod, a teasing glint in your eyes as you trail a finger across his bare chest. “Maybe I’ll even let you kiss me afterwards.”
He groans, reaching for you again but you escape his grasp, darting for the door.
“Goodnight, Warren.”
“Night, sweetheart.”
—
“Two dates in one night? You’re on a roll.” You barely make it two steps before Bobby is freezing you in place. “And coming out of his room? How scandalous.”
“Oh, shut it, Bobby.” You phase through the ice, falling into step beside him.
He snickers, knocking his elbow against yours. “Did you have fun?”
The smile stuck on your face gives you away, but you answer anyways. “Yeah, I did.”
Your heart flutters, thinking back to the way Warren looked at you.
“Wait. How did you know it was a date?”
“I didn’t, but you just told me?” He laughs.
You smack his arm lightly, rolling your eyes. “Whatever. It was wonderful.”
“Don’t break his heart.” He warns, stopping in front of your door. “And if he breaks yours, I’ll have to freeze his wings.”
“Thanks, Bobby. That’s oddly…sweet. In a weird way.”
“Night.” He doesn’t wait around, shrugging off your words as he opens the door next to yours. He disappears inside, the door shutting softly behind him.
You shake your head, opening your own door. Ready to sleep after a long night, only to be met with the grinning face of your closet redheaded confidant.
“Two dates in one night? How scandalous.” Jean giggles.
“Okay, did you guys plan that or something?”
“Plan what?” She seems genuinely confused, so you let it go. “Anyways, how was it? You have to tell me everything!”
“Well, he asked me out again.”
“Again?!” She squeals, “I have the perfect dress picked out for you.”
“I don’t even know what we’re doing! He said he wants to plan something.”
She sighs dreamily as she flops back on your bed. “Wow. That’s serious.”
“It’s just a date.” You try not to get your hopes up. Sure, he said he’s in love with you, but it’s still hard to believe.
“It’s way more than a date! It’s a start, or middle,” she pinches her eyebrows together as she considers when this is happening, “of your epic love story!”
“Epic seems a little extreme.”
“It’s totally epic.”
You smile despite your nerves, nose wrinkling slightly. “It is pretty epic, isn’t it?”
She clasp her hands together excitedly. “I told you that you’d be happy I set you up!”
“With Pietro!”
“Yeah, but that was just to make Warren jealous.”
“Jean!” You smack her with a pillow. “You said you wouldn’t!”
“No, you said you wouldn’t! I just…meddled.”
“You are really good at meddling.” You sigh, laying beside her.
She props herself up on an elbow, pointing a finger at you. “If he hurts you…”
“It’s okay. Bobby already threatened to freeze his wings.”
“Seriously? Well, I’ll do much worse. Depending on what he does.”
“I’m sure you will.”
—
The dress Jean picked out was much too revealing for a picnic. Instead, you opted for the one Warren bought you last year when you went Christmas shopping together.
You were supposed to be finding something for Jean, but he’d insisted you try it on.
Snatching your purse from the dresser, you take one last look in the mirror, swiping another layer of lipgloss onto your lips with a satisfied nod.
“Much better.” You hum, practically skipping down the stairs. You’re barely able to contain your excitement for a second date with Warren, but you manage to slow your steps.
He’s waiting in the kitchen, getting a lecture combined with a motivation speech from Scott when you peek inside.
“And don’t ever—”
“Aren’t I the one that usually gives you advice?” Warren anxiously adjusts the sleeves of his suit jacket.
From behind, you can almost make out the shape of his wings, tucked beneath the fabric. Your heart pangs slightly, at the fact he has to hide them.
“Ready?” You finally speak up, effectively ending the building argument between the two men.
Warren spins, eyes widening as he looks you up and down.
“So? Do I look pretty?” You bat your eyes, smiling teasingly as he settles his hands on your waist, pulling you into him.
“Gorgeous.” He presses a kiss against your cheek, lowering his voice an octave. “You always do.”
“Thanks.” Your cheeks warm at the compliment, ducking your head into his chest.
“Ew. Can you do that somewhere else?” Bobby groans, throwing a fry at your head. You let it phase through you, hitting Warren instead.
“We should get going anyways.” The blond replies, glaring past you at the youngest member of the team.
Bobby sends him a thumbs up before turning back to his meal.
“Are we driving?”
He nods, pressing his hand against your lower back as he guides you out the door.
The drive feels a lot shorter than it is, your fingers gripping his one hand tightly while he steers with the other.
His radio plays We Will Not Be Lovers from the speakers. He immediately shuts it off.
“Really?” You snicker, reaching for the case of CD’s behind your seat.
“I was mourning.”
“Mourning who?”
“You.” Your eyes snap up to meet his. He clears his throat and continues. “Your date the other night. It was…unpleasant.”
“Unpleasant.” You repeat the word, biting back a laugh.
He sighs tensely, “You know what I mean.”
“I didn’t realize you cared enough to listen to The Waterboys.” You flip through the rest of his CD’s, eyes catching on a familiar one. “You listen to Lana?”
He doesn’t answer at first, so you turn to look at him. A red flush creeps down his neck, coating his cheeks in a pink glow that catches in the passing street lamps.
“You cannot be serious.”
“It works.”
“You use Lana to pick up girls?” You groan, covering your eyes. “You’re the worst!”
“I never used that on you.”
You sit up at that, looking at him curiously. His blush deepens. “Why not?”
“You’re different.”
“Good different?”
He takes his eyes off the road, frowning slightly as he glances at you. He clears his throat, looking away again. “Of course it’s a good different. You’re important.”
You force yourself to look away, trying not to coo at how sweet he is. Instead, you turn your attention back to the CD’s.
“Flip to the back.”
You do as he says, finding a signed CD of your favorite album tucked inside the flap, original packing and everything.
“Are you serious?”
“I got it for your birthday but chickened out when Scott said it was too obvious.”
“I’m gonna kill Scott.”
He pulls the car off the side of the road, quickly putting it into park.
The night sky is spattered in stars, glowing brightly over the thick forest that surrounds the school grounds.
The place Warren brought you is almost a direct shot down the main road from the school’s entrance, up the gentle incline of the hills.
He slides across the hood of the car, opening the door for you to get out. You take his hand, interlacing your fingers in his as he guides you towards an overlook.
You can’t see the school from here, but there’s an endless array of trees interspersed between the hills.
“It’s beautiful.”
Warren hums his agreement, but he never takes his eyes off you.
“Is this why you’re always taking off during class, so you can see this?”
“It’s usually a bit brighter out then this.” He smiles as your head falls against his shoulder, his arm wrapping around you. “But generally, yes.”
Your eyes scan the horizon, breathing in the chilly night air. “Don’t ever feel trapped? Like you can’t escape?”
“All the time.” He huffs, “I’m not a fan of being grounded.”
You laugh at that, sinking deeper into his arms. “Really? I couldn’t tell.” You drawl, laughing as he lightly pinches your side.
He rolls his eyes, turning to face you, eyebrows pinched together inquisitively. “Is that how you feel? Trapped?”
“Sometimes, I guess. More so growing up. My parents took me out of school when my powers started showing. They were scared…I don’t blame them.”
He’s quiet as you speak but his hand squeezes yours gently, urging you to speak.
“I hurt people, badly, sometimes. I couldn’t control it. They kicked me out right before the powers stopped, which Xavier said is normal when they’re first developing. Then they got worse. I’m just glad he found me before anyone got killed.”
“I’m glad he did too.” Warren smiles sadly, pressing a kiss against your hairline. “I never would’ve met you otherwise.”
You roll your eyes, looking at him with a gentle smile. “Who knows, your father makes you attend virtually every charity gala that happens on the east coast. Maybe we would’ve run into each other there.”
“You think?” His lips quirk, a teasing smile tugging at his lips as he offers you a hand.
You take it, laughing softly as he spins you around.
“Maybe I should take you to one. We could spend the evening dancing and drinking.”
“Trying to wine and dine me, are you, Worthington?”
“If you think it would work.” He presses his lips against yours, kissing you deeply. “I’ll buy you a dress. Shoes too, whatever you want.”
“I think I’d like that. As long as it’s about an anti-mutant one.”
“I wouldn’t dare.” He fakes a shiver, arms locking around your waist as he dips you.
“Then I’d love to.” You agree, and he seals the deal with a kiss.
—
“So does this mean you’re my boyfriend now?” You’re sitting against his headboard, feet propped up against his stomach as he sprawls out on the mattress. His wings flutter every few minutes, moving in time with his heavy breaths.
“Well, I had a plan to ask you officially, but yes. I’d like to be.”
“Good. Because you’re not getting rid of me.”
He cocks a brow, sitting up to get a better look at you. “Is that right?”
“Mhmm.” You hum as he gets closer, arms wrapping around your waist as he tugs you into his lap.
“That’s good. I wasn’t planning on letting you go.” His forehead drops, leaning against yours as he breathes.
You surge forward, pressing your lips against his messily. He groans, fingers tightening on yours hips.
Your teeth clash, mouths meshing together as he deepens the kiss.
Reaching up, your fingers tangle in his hair, lacing around the base of his neck. As you tugs on the blond strands, you can feel his wings ruffle behind him, brushing against your leg.
He pulls back, warm breaths mixing with yours as you smile, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips as he draws back.
He matches your grin with his own, breathing heavily. He shakes his head, catching your lips in another kiss before he opens his mouth the speak.
The door slams open, interrupting whatever he was going to say, as Bobby steps inside.
“Mission—Woah!”
His wings flap, unfolding enough to block the two of you. Nothing too promiscuous was happening, but still nothing either of you want Bobby seeing.
“Having fun?”
You peer out from behind his feathers, seeing Bobby lean against the doorframe casually, a taunting grin across his face.
“More fun than you, Drake.” Warren grumbles, moving to stand as he sets you back down onto the mattress.
“Ouch, that hurts, bird boy. Anyways, mission happening now. Unless you’re preoccupied.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, only to have the look wiped off by a pillow as it slams into his face.
Warren shoots you a grateful smile as the younger man splutters, finally leaving.
“We should get going.” You stand, pressing a kiss against Warren’s jaw as he takes your hand.
He leans down to kiss you again, “We should.”
It goes unspoken that neither of you have any desire to leave.
—
The mission goes fine, much like all the others. No lasting injuries, too much property damage, and way too much media coverage.
Articles debating the Mutant Registration Act flood the headlines, only pushing Senator Kelly’s agenda.
Whenever things outside the manor get too heavy, Warren always insists on team pizza nights. Something to distract everyone from rising tensions with the humans.
“Did you lose your shadow?” Bobby asks, snatching of of the pizza boxes as soon as Warren walks in.
His question is answered by you rematerializing beside your boyfriend, the ghost version of yourself slipping from its place inside him.
Bobby screeches, falling out of his chair. “What was that?!” He scrambles away from you, still clutching a piece of pizza in his hands.
“Don’t do that ever again.” Jean shudders, pulling one of the pizza boxes towards her.
"What's the point of having a boyfriend if I can't possess him?" The grin on your face is enough to placate the redhead as she rolls her eyes.
"You only want me for my body!" Warren jokes, wrapping an arm around your waist as he drags you around the table.
As you sink into the seat beside him, his hand settles on your thigh. The weight of it is familiar, comforting. Your cheeks warm at the contact, despite how innocent it may be.
The rest of the team falls back into their typical rhythm, unaware of yours and Warren’s exchanged glances as arguments about who can eat an entire pizza the fastest break out around you.
“I love you.” He raises your hand, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. Your smile softens, eyes blown wide as you gaze at him adoringly. You repeat the sentiment eagerly before snatching a slice of pizza.
His smile shifts, taking on a much more teasing note as he drags a finger down the bare expanse of your thigh as your skirt rises up. “How long until you think we can sneak out of here?”
Your lips part to answer but Hank beats you to it. “Too long. Please do not continue to defile the kitchen with your typical depravity.”
“Whatever, McCoy. You’re just jealous you can’t get a girlfriend looking like—” You place a hand over Warren’s mouth, effectively ending whatever string of insults he had planned.
Rising from your chair, you tug the blond with you. “You’re right, Hank. We’ll take our depravity elsewhere.”
Bobby snickers as you drag the winged man after you, Jean’s giggles following you out into the hall.
“I guess team dinner was a fail.” Warren mumbles, arms wrapping under your thighs as he presses you against the wall.
“Oh, please.” You match his grin, pressing your lips against his gently, “Like you weren’t planning this from the get-go.”
“You know me too well.” His lips are hot against your neck, peppering kisses across your skin. “Then again, I wouldn’t mind you getting to know me better.” His voice drops in the end, mouth brushing against yours finally.
Your lips quirk up, an easy smile crossing your face as your fingers tangle in the soft curls at the nape of his neck. “I don’t think I’d mind that either.”
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@astupidwriter9 @that-daughter-of-nyx
