egotheplanet:

Money Problems – Warren Worthington III x Reader (FLUFF)

Request: Hi, could you please write something fluffy with Warren Worthington III (X-Men Apocalypse)? X reader, please. Like going to the movies or out for ice cream kinda thing. Only if it’s ok and you have some spare time. Thank you! And take care ❤

Word count: 2k

Summary: Warren has a spending problem and you bring it up, leading to a fluffy outing with him. (Warning: Mentions of Sex) 

A/N: This is LONG overdue! Sorry about the wait 🙂 GIF IS NOT MINE!!! Credit where credit is due.

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It was rather comical how angelic your boyfriend looked despite his almost rancid behavior. However; the leather jackets, the empty bottles of heavy alcohol and the all around intimidation he seemed to rub off on people was nothing to you. He was your personal cherub and there wasn’t a single thing that he wouldn’t do for you. 

His previous unsteady relationships left him with the overwhelming side effect of craving a lasting relationship. When he met you and ultimately fell in love, he did the only thing he knew how to portray love. Endless sex and he bought you things. Warren was no stranger to money and coming from a wealthy family meant buying the ones you loved seemingly useless items. It was considered normal. But for some reason when he bought them for you it was different. The smile that erupted all over your face was different. The romance and love he felt with you was different and he couldn’t get enough. You loved him for his semi-chaotic self and not the width of his wallet. Both were beginning to thin these days. Such a frivolous personality and a stable budget is hard to maintain if you have no job. 

Money was seemingly no object to him and this was something you needed to discuss as a couple if things between you were to continue. Which they definitely were going to, as long as you could help it. But Warren had a thing about diving into serious conversations with you. He was worried that if you started talking through a problem together, you’d realize how high maintenance he is and leave him. Obviously, that wouldn’t be the case but as someone who’s felt left behind all his life by the people he loved, it was a very real concept. So anytime you’d approach him saying ‘We need to talk.’ he’d simply turn around and walk away. Granted, he couldn’t walk forever but it was always easiest to just let him go for the time being. Following him would only make him fly off but he always came back. 

But his love fueled habit has started getting more and more costly. It was time. You needed to talk about money since he started taking to getting you jewelry. As much as you loved him, you’d be happy to continue loving him without a pair of diamond earrings and the necklace to match. 

Warren slumps back against the chestnut brown headboard gently so as not to smush his wings in a careless action. His chest was bare and sinewy as it rose and fell dramatically to regain its previous steady rhythm. The left side of the bed was where his body rested while your equally exhausted self mirrored on the right. One of his hands stayed situated in his hair, attempting to push it off of his forehead where it decided to stick. The other was on your naked hip, gently rubbing circles with his thumb. 

This is my chance. He’s too exhausted to run away.

With a great huff and effort you lifted yourself onto your elbows to face him as you rolled off of your side to lay stomach down on the obviously expensive (and ruined) sheets. Your sweet smile was a sight to behold but he knew it meant you were up to something. His eyes rolled, similar to the way they had done fifteen minutes ago, and a deep breath escaped his mouth as he prepared himself for your conversation. 

“Out with it.” His tone was soft with a minuscule hint of annoyance to it. 

“Out with what?” You prodded, hoping he already knew his fault. 

“Whatever it is that’s bothering you about me now.” 

“There’s nothing about you that bothers me, Warren.” He looked at you as you spoke and huffed. “Bothersome is a strong word and it doesn’t exactly reflect-“

“Then why are you setting up for an argument?” He was taking it all wrong and very fast. 

“It’s nothing. I just…” He could tell you were choosing your words carefully so as not to upset him. It made him calm down a bit since you were obviously putting a lot of effort into keeping the air light. “I just think we should talk about money.”

His blonde eyebrows creased together at your voice. “Oh.” He sat up a little, using his hands to assist him so he could face you more. “That’s it? Well we’ve got money, so there’s that. Conversation done.” He shrugged and relaxed back into the headboard, ready to turn over so his back could face you and he could sleep. 

“Warren.” Your voice held the warning tone you only reserved for the serious situations. “That’s not what I mean. We’re spending too much of it.”

You’re spending too much of it. 

“Spending too much? Money is made to be spent, Y/N.” His voice was slowly gaining intensity to reestablish the original volume of the house which quickly dulled to a whisper when your physical activity began. 

“No, Warren. It’s meant to be saved and then spent. But neither of us are making money. There’s no saving going on either! Just spending! If we keep doing this, we’ll be completely bankrupt before long.” As you spoke he looked increasingly insulted. 

“What’s so wrong with a boyfriend spending money on his girlfriend?” He was trying to diffuse his anger by shifting blame but you’re too calm to accept it. 

“A lot, actually. Especially since we’re losing so much of it.” You sat up, not caring about the fact your sheet fell off your chest and left you exposed to him. “If we can agree to at least cut back on our spending, I’ll be happy.” 

Warren seemed to think it over for a long moment before nodding. 

“Fine. But I want to take you out for one last spending spree before you put a clamp my dick.” You ignored the dick comment and nodded. 

“Okay. What do you have in mind?”

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“Strawberry, please.” 

Warren wore his usual white tee shirt disguised beneath a black leather jacket and its matching pants. The top half of his outfit had sizable cuts in the back so his wings could fit through comfortably. Despite the hot weather he looked damn cool. 

He licked his vanilla ice cream almost sensually as he watched you reach for yours. He handed the ice cream vendor a $5 bill before walking with you to your picnic blanket on the center grass patch of the public park. 

So far so good. He had you thinking he was going to go nuts with his ‘One Last Spending Hoorah.’

“So, hows the ice cream?” His blonde hair almost hung in his eyes as he watched you, all the while keeping his ice cream from melting onto his hand with his tongue. 

“I mean, it’s ice cream.” You said nonchalantly as you shrugged. His face seemed a little displeased. “So that means it’s good by default. It’s good, Warren.” You smiled and laughed lightly before picking up where you left off with the quickly melting cone. 

He seemed pleased with the later answer and continued to eat. It was a blissfully warm day with the perfect amount of sun to make a freezing treat beyond enjoyable. His blue eyes were concealed and protected behind his dark sunglasses, hiding them from your view. He sighed in content as he leaned back; using one hand to hold himself up and the other to hold his cone. 

You felt yourself smile genuinely. Warren was becoming so domestic with you that it was beyond relaxing. So much so that you didn’t even notice the children playing soccer a few feet away. By the time you did notice, their bright red ball landed in your gut and your ice cream was embedded in the grass beside your picnic blanket. The shock of the hit left you a little breathless so it took you a moment to look over at Warren who’s feathers and chest were puffing up in protective anger. 

He handed you his cone and picked up the ball as he stood and looked accusingly at the group of kids. The oldest of the bunch couldn’t be more than 11 years old at most. 

“You think it’s funny to kick a ball at someone? Huh?” The kids were obviously ashamed and just wanted their ball back, not to be lectured.

“Warren, it’s fine. Really!” You got up and joined his side, taking the ball and giving it to the closest of the kids with a kind smile. “You guys just be careful, okay?” They all nodded and darted away. 

Warren kept his chest puffed up before deflating it and looking down at you, sliding his sunglasses back up onto his hair. “I had that.”

“Had it? It wasn’t exactly a situation, Warren. They’re just kids.” You spoke gently as you handed him the remaining intact ice cream cone and picked up the wreckage of yours, throwing it into a trash bin nearby. 

His eyes watched you and you could tell he was thinking deeply. 

“How are you so calm and gentle all the time?” 

That question took you off guard. Calm all the time? Definitely not. 

“I’m not. I just try not to get worked up over small stuff.” You spoke cooly and allowed your hand to reach up, grasping his wrist which held the ice cream. You pulled it to your face so you could lick from it while maintaining eye contact with his freshly exposed eyes. 

You didn’t miss the way his cheeks lightly blushed and his brow twitched in intrigue. 

“The small stuff, hm?” He shrugged and used his free arm to wrap around you so you could both walk back to your blanket. “How are you so wise? I’m the older one.” He huffed in a joking manner as you both sat down. 

“I don’t know if I can answer that.” Your smile widened as you leaned against his shoulder, licking more of his ice cream. 

“You know what?” He took a lick of the ice cream, “I feel like this ice cream is missing something.” 

His voice held a mischievous tone, the one he used when he was about to do something stupid and expensive. 

Your eyes closed and your head hung low. “Warren, you didn’t.” You felt his chest puff up again, this time in pride, and he smirked. 

“Yes I did.” He whistled and the band of musicians who were playing for tips walked over to begin serenading you. It was obvious now that the ‘playing for tips’ part was just their cover story so he could surprise you. “You’ve gotta at least watch! I spent $200 convincing these guys to play our song!” 

Your eyes flickered back up at him. “Our song? Since when do we have a song?”

“Always on My Mind.” Warren shrugged and fought off an embarrassed blush. “You always hum it around the house so I just kind of figured..”

You gasped in excitement but it died when the musicians started playing heavy synth. “Warren, this isn’t Elvis.”

He looked at you in a confused manner. “Elvis? Babe, no. It’s Pet Shop Boys style. Way cooler.” He looked proud as you looked at the singer going all out and then back at your beloved angel. 

You laughed softly and shrugged, decoding to give it a chance. “It’s catchy. Sooo not our song, but.. Pretty catchy.” You saw him pout. 

“You don’t like it?”

“I love it. It’s something only you would do.” Your hand lifted and gently touched his chest in a loving manner. “Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t think our song was some heavy metal from one of your mixtapes.” You laughed a little but the blush on his cheeks made you laugh even harder. “This song wasn’t even your first choice, was it?” You were full out laughing when he started rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. 

It took him a few moment before he decided to join you. “Whatever, nerd. Just listen to the music.” He handed you the ice cream cone. 

His arm pulled you back into his chest and you relished in the gleeful sound coming from the band; you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.