“I absolutely love all your warren fics! I was hoping you could do a warren x
reader where they’ve been best friends since childhood and one day warren just
says ‘holy shit I’m in love with them’ moment but warren is scared because he
doesn’t want to lose the reader’s friendship but the reader is in love with him
too and feels the same way.” and “Um hi! I was wondering if you could write a
request where the reader has a bad day and breaks down in front of Warren
Worthington, and he comforts them and cuddles them and stuff until they calm
down? Thank you so much both of your guys’ writing is amazing!”
I, as previously stated several times, am a ho for soulmate au’s. Therefore,
the following fic will be a soulmate fic, and will also probably end up much
longer than I intended to write it. Also, let’s pretend you and Warren both
live in the suburbs.
Seven days until your birthday. Seven days
until your soulmate’s name would finally be etched onto your arm. Seven days. A
week. God, you were scared. Terrified. And yes, you supposed his name could
appear sooner, but it hadn’t yet, and unless his birthday occurred before
yours, it wouldn’t happen.
You liked to imagine what he’d be like, but
you always came up empty, or your thoughts wandered off to someone else. You
shoved those images out of your head. No. Stop. You can’t keep dreaming of him,
not when you know it’s not meant to be. It won’t be him.
There was a knock on your window. You turned
around. Warren. A smile found your lips and you opened it up.
“Hey,” he crouched through the window. His
large feathery wings were a tight fit. They always were. You chuckled, pulling
him through. He stumbled forward, looking down at you. Warren was dressed in
his all-black ensemble. It was hot.
When you and Warren went out in public, you
got the weirdest looks. Not just because of his wings, but because he wore all
black and leather jackets and Metallica shirts and you were completely the
opposite. You were a flower child, left over from the seventies. A pastel fairy
queen in a world full of neon. And Warren couldn’t get enough of it.
As for your powers, you controlled plants.
Flowers bloomed at your touch and vines sprouted from seemingly nowhere.
Because of it, your room looked more like a garden, what with vines and flower
pots and small trees everywhere. It was a nice break, Warren decided. It was
refreshing, his little oasis in a desert of pain.
“How are you holding up, flower child?”
Warren took a seat on your bed. You sighed, managing a shrug.
“Not so well.”
“Terrified.” you nodded.
“You know why.” you held up your wrist before
slumping onto your bed beside him. He looked at you with empathy, leaning back
on his arms. His wings stretched up into the air. You smiled a little,
captivated by their mesmerizing movement. Warren scooped you up in his muscular
arms, pulling you to his chest. His wings wrapped around the both of you, a
shield from the world.
“I have known you since we were five years
old.” Warren whispered. You nodded, burying your face in the crook of his neck.
Tears streamed down your cheeks, dripping onto his skin. He held you tighter,
shushing you gently. “You are a fantastic, amazing, beautiful person, and if
your soulmate can’t see that, he or she doesn’t deserve you.”
“You mean it?”
“Thanks.” you sniffled. “I needed that.”
“I know.” he smirked. “You’re turning me into
a softie. You know that, right?”
“Yeah,” you managed to laugh. Warren stared
at the ceiling of your room. His heart raced as he finally acknowledged the
thought that had been haunting him since the two of you were twelve. He was in
love with you. It wasn’t a crush. It wasn’t a stage. He knew in his heart that
if he wasn’t your soulmate, there was truly something wrong with the world. He
might never be the same if he lost you.
You stood on the back lawn of the Worthington
household six nights later. Tomorrow was your birthday and you were anything
but ready. You looked up at the balcony outside Warren’s room. After mustering
up the courage and wiping away most of your tears, you focused your energy on
creating a sapling. The small tree emerged from the ground, one of the branches
settling under your legs for support as it grew to the height of the balcony,
becoming a large, healthy apple tree.
You hopped off of the branch and walked to
the door, knocking a few times. It was late. Warren was asleep, you knew that
much. There was rustling around, a small crash, a stumble, and finally the door
opened, revealing a very sleep Warren. His wings were drooping, his eyes were
half-closed, and his golden curls made a messy halo on his head. He was shirtless,
and a pair of grey sweatpants hung loosely from his hips.
“Has that tree always been there?” he asked,
pointing tiredly behind you. You shook your head before rushing into his arms. “Hey,
hey, shhh, what’s wrong?” he held you tight, rubbing your back as your
shoulders shook with sobs.
“I’m so scared.” you whispered, clinging to
Warren as though if you let go of him for even a second he would vanish.
“It’s okay.” he spoke softly. “It’s gonna be
fine. Whoever they are, your soulmate, they’ll love you. No matter what.”
Warren didn’t let the pain he was feeling show. He was just as scared as you.
He didn’t want to lose you. The thought of it made him sick to his stomach. You
were the only thing in this damn world that made sense to him. You were the
only thing worth protecting.
“What if…Warren…” you trailed off. You had no
idea how to tell your best friend that you were in love with him on the night
before you were supposed to find your soulmate.
“I know.” he nodded. One of his hands cupped
your jaw. He pulled your face to his, pressing a long kiss to your forehead. “I
know.” he paused, taking a huge breath. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” you admitted. “But what if…”
“I know.” he stated, his eyes meeting yours. “We’ll
figure it out.”
“Okay,” you nodded. “I…I just I needed to see
you before I know. You know?”
“I know.” He closed his eyes, resting his head
on your shoulder. “I’m glad you came.”
“So am I.”
You sat up in bed the next morning almost
afraid to look at your forearm. You could feel it tingling as the letters
etched themselves into your skin. Your heart raced. Finally mustering the
courage, you looked at the newly-formed words. Written in your skin in his
messy, messy handwriting was ‘Warren
“HOLY SHIT!” you ripped the covers off of
your bed and got dressed as fast as you could. “OH MY GOD!!!”
“You okay in there, hun?” your mother asked
with a knowing smile. What she didn’t
say was that Warren had been waiting downstairs for twenty minutes, your name
written neatly on his arm.
“Yep! I’ll be out in a second!” you promised.
You put your hair up, pulled on your favorite outfit and raced down the stairs,
crashing right into Warren and nearly knocking him over. He laughed, embracing
you. He pulled up the sleeve of his leather jacket, showing you your name on
his arm. You showed him his name on yours. He held it in disbelief, running his
calloused fingers over the letters carefully. There were tears running down his
cheeks. Tears of relief. He fell to his knees, unable to stand.
“It’s you.” you stated, kneeling in front of
him. “It’s always been you.”
Your hands cupped his face, thumbs wiping at the
tears. Warren smiled, pulling you into his arms, and for the first time, he finally
pressed his lips to yours. It was a gentle kiss, sweet. His pink lips were so,
so soft and warm and welcoming.
“I love you so, so much.” Warren pressed
innumerable kisses to your cheeks and forehead. “Happy birthday.”
Later, you sat on the hill outside of town
watching the sunset. A silver pair of wings dangled around your neck on a
chain. Your birthday present from Warren. You loved it more than you could
“I feel like I always kind of knew.” Warren’s
arms tightened around your waist. You leaned back into his chest.
“Yeah.” he nodded. “You’re the only one that
makes me feel like I’m not a freak.”
a freak.” you stated. A smile tugged at your lips as you pressed a sweet kiss
to the corner of his mouth. “You’re an angel.”
“I love you, flower child.”
“I love you too.” you sighed, watching the
oranges and pinks paint the sky like a dazzling mural. Warren leaned back
against the tree, pulling you closer as his wings surrounded you.