Howlin' For You (Wolf x Reader) Valentine's Day Special !
Wolf tries to confess his love to the reader. Emphasis on "tries". As it turns out, murderers suck at figuring out their own emotions.
Happy Valentine's Day ! đ
Based on some headcanons by Crispy_Bonnie. Go check out their works.
He remembered the way he had met you: when you had been announced as a new member of the gang, and walked past the door.
Everyone had cheered, and he had shaken your hand, like everyone else, but no warmth laid behind the gesture.
Let's hope this one's not a rat. He had mused, with a side glance to you. Then he had gone back to work, like nothing had happened.
It had taken him a while to begin trusting you. At first, he was wary, observing your every move, convinced you had something nasty in mind. He kept an eye on you at all times, hoping to catch any suspicious movement from you before you could put a bullet through someone's skull. He slept with his bulletproof vest on, locked the door every night, and otherwise never talked to you outside of heists. He watched you from afar, like a stranger in the otherwise tight group of friends he had.
Bain probably had good reasons to trust you, but he didn't. Just in case, he'd err on the side of caution. Instead of protesting, or confronting him about it, it seemed you understood why he was so cold, and just let him be. He had to admit he at the very least apreciated that about you. If he had a penny for every single time that Jimmy guy had barged into his workshop, leaving blood and white powder everywhere, he wouldn't even need to rob banks anymore...
Well, he liked robberies, so he'd probably do it anyway.
He had started opening up, after a while. It was a slow improvement, but a welcome one. He began warming up to you: he would occasionally bounce back on some comment you made, as you all discussed the heist of the day in the van; or he cheered when you managed to take down one of those sneaky sons-of-bitches they called "cloakers" before one of them greeted you with one of their infamous drop-kicks. He even grumbled an occasional "thanks" or two when you pulled him out of a sticky situation.
You saved his ass; he saved yours. A symbiotic work relationship. He had lost his animosity towards you, and thought of you as his colleague. A partner in crime. Not as close to him as the others, but not as far as you used to be, either.
Then, he got to know you better, through anecdotes shared over a couple beers, as a celebration for successfully completing a particularly tricky robbery. Everyone had laughed, and shared a bit about their past. He wasn't very talkative when drunk; he mumbled to himself a lot, mostly in Swedish, and it wasn't always a piece of cake for the others to understand what he was on about, but he had gladly chatted with you, upon hearing you answer in the same language, and had found out you guys had more in common than he first thought.
Later on, you had helped him de-escalate a particularly bad panic attack, and his view on you had done a complete 180° turn. Your patience and comprehensive attitude had punched right through the wall of defiance he held against you.
That night, you had become a friend, to him. A real one, one he knew he could count on. You had no obligation to help him with something he considered so ridiculous, yet you had chosen to do so.
You guys had had a night of hysterical laughter, following this particular act of yours, talking shit about the others, right in front of them, in the native language you both shared, which only you two could understand. That is, until you uttered a snarky remark towards Bain, and he spat back at you both, from over the speakers.
Turns out, the contractor knew Swedish too. Who would have thought that some genius mastermind with contacts all across the world would be fluent in more than one language ? Wolf and you had laughed it off, like the good friends you had become.
But that had changed, as well, and now, he stood outside of your room, repeating a script he had made up for the occasion. Â
"Hey, we've known each other for a while, huh ? I think I'm starting to like you. Do you wanna go on a date, or something, one of these days ?"
He had rehearsed it in front of the mirror for hours, until it had felt right. Until it had sounded just right, which it now did. He just had to go for it, now.
He knocked on your door, in that special pattern you two used for one another. Your voice called out a casual "come in" and he pushed the door open. Sitting there, working on something, you smiled at him, and he felt himself freeze.
When he had first seen you without your mask on, he had thought, just casually, that you were a rather good-looking person, but, now, he couldn't even hold your gaze anymore. You weren't just good-looking: you were magnificient ! Your eyes sparkled, so gorgeous, and the little creases at their corners when you smiled made him melt everytime.
Speak of that, your smile? It was mesmerizing. Every single time you sported it, he felt weak at the knees. As of your laugh, the sound of it made his chest sink with a feeling of warmth whenever it reached his ears. He would be ashamed to admit it, but, often, he acted like a total idiot around you, simply to hear it...
If the others had noticed, they probably saw it as a friendly thing. Would you two have to make it official, if you said "yes" ? Would you have to announce your relationship to the others ? Would they say it was obvious he loved you ? He cringed. It was none of their business, really.
He shook his head. Whatever. They'd figure it out, if they cared. The big issue, for now, was making it official to you. He had prepared. He was ready. He knew he could do it.
He opened his mouth, but, to his surprise, nothing came out. His mind had suddenly gone blank, and his carefully crafted speech was now completely out of his mind.
"Uh... uh... I..." He tried. "Do you think... err... do you... ?"
Nope. Radio silence in his head. Not a word could be uttered, as if he had forgotten the language abruptly.
He raised a pair of wide eyes to you, in a pained expression.
Come on, this was just ridiculous ! Why couldn't he say it ? Â
You looked back at him, confused: he usually never acted nervous around you. At least, not anymore.
"I, uh... no ! Um... you... uh..."
He groaned in frustration, unable to get the words out.
Fuck... he could feel you watching. Your pretty eyes were now digging holes into his skull, while he glared at his shoes to avoid meeting your gaze.
His face felt boiling hot, yet he was shaking like a leaf. He hoped he wasn't blushing, for the sake of his dignity, but that might have just been the case.
It was the case. As you observed him, you started worrying. You wondered if he was having another panic attack, or something of the sort. He was prone to this kind of stuff, so it was entirely possible.
"-Hey, man, what's going on ?" You questioned.
"-I..." His eyes met yours, and he found himself petrified. You were so damn beautiful. How could he ever believe he had a chance with someone like that ?
"Uh..." He started fidgeting with his hands, seeming mildly uncomfortable on the outside; while, on the inside, he was panicking, trying his hardest to put his hands onto his script from earlier.
And you just stared, waiting, albeit, with the awkward silence surrounding you, you were starting to feel a little nervous.
Not as anxious as him, though. He was panicking. In such a panic, in fact, that he reverted back to his native language, scolding himself for his inability to tell you what he had in mind. You weren't sure if if it was a reflex, or if he did it hoping that you wouldn't understand, but you did.
"C'mon, c'mon... just say it. Just fucking say it !" He whined, to himself.
In his mind, he saw himself give up, go back to his own room, and be left to ruminate on his feelings some more. He didn't want to keep them to himself anymore ! He wanted to tell you. Scratch that, he needed to tell you. It was taking too much of a toll on him.
But now ? It wouldn't work ! He couldn't articulate a sentence for the life of him ! The ambiance of the room felt more and more suffocating, and a lump was begining to form in his throat.
With a little laugh, meant to convey sympathy for his situation (and release the awkward tension that was building up around you two), you patted him on the back.
"-Take your time. I'm not going anywhere, so you're in no hurry."
It wasn't a matter of time ! It was a matter of whether or not he could pull his shit together. And it seemed like he was fighting a lost battle.
It should have taken him ten seconds maximum to say it. It was not supposed to be this hard, and the pressure he felt was becoming infuriating.
Fuck... Fuck ! FUCK ! Why couldn't he say it ?! Why was it so hard to say that he loved you ?
Well, that was it. He didn't need to say much more than that, did he ?Â
He took your hand in his, squeezing it perhaps a little too hard, and, at last, spoke. Well, yelled.
"Oh, FUCK !" He snapped. "I love you ! Really love you, I mean."
The weight in his chest was immediately lifted, but a terrible sensation of having done the wrong thing replaced it. Like spitting out something you were choking out, only to realize you did so on someone's shirt.
Oh, shit. That was out. He couldn't take it back, now.
You stood there, for a second, staring ahead at his crimson face, unsure of how to reply to that.
So that's what he wanted to say ? That's why he was freaking out on you like that ?
Well, it did make sense. Frankly, he had never been good at opening up, and, if you had to be completely honest, you'd even recognize that he wasn't the most emotionally stable person you knew. Which is precisely why you were so suprised: you couldn't believe this guy was capable of falling in love, let alone do something as normal as confessing his feelings for you. You were as happy as can be to hear it, but it was pretty surprising.
All you'd seen him do before was panic in the middle of a police assault, and cheer after a clean getaway. That was... new. Him being loving or shy ? Yeah. It was really new.
You stopped thinking about any of that, when he raised a hand to his face, and started sobbing. That snapped you right out, and you realized, remorsefully, that you hadn't answered him yet. He might have taken that as rejection. That, or he was reasonably overwhelmed, after expressing an emotion that he wasn't familiar with.
"-No, no, no... Wait. Hey, don't cry, man." You called out, in a low voice, and pulled him into a hug.
"-I'm sorry..." He sniffled. "I'm just..."
He paused, as if to reflect on what he was trying to say.
Yeah. Typical Wolf. Awful at processing his own feelings, and hates to show them.
"-No, it's cool." You patted him on the back. "It's a lot to process, I bet. It must have been tough to say. But I love it."
He raised a pair of fearful blue eyes to you, watching for a reaction. When he met your smile, your beautiful smile, instead of the look of pity he expected, a glint of apprehension seemed to vanish from his eyes. His cheeks visibly flushed, and he lowered his gaze, but you tipped his chin back up to you.
"Come on. Look at me, Wolfie."Â That nickname caught his attention, and he timidly complied.
He sighed. All he could think about was how ethereal you looked. It was beyond words. Getting to be so close to you, and to look at you like that felt like such a privilege. How could anyone even be this-
He cut himself off, nearly jumping out of his skin, when he felt your lips against his. If confessing was already a little too much for him, now, his brain was going into overdrive, flooded by a multitude of feelings and thoughts he couldn't quite understand.
As you pulled away, he stood in place, immobile, almost scarily so. You could nearly imagine a "404 error" message popping up behind his eyes, with how unresponsive he was. You even thought you could see smoke coming out of his face, for a moment.
"-I'm sorry." You cleared your throat, feeling suddenly upset with your reaction. "I should have asked, first. That was not cool..."
He blinked twice, looked around, raised a hand to his lips, as if to analyze the sensation onto them, then turned to you, with the brightest, most excited smile he ever bore on his face.
"-Can you do that again ?" He chuckled, and you felt yourself beaming as well.
You grabbed his face in between your hands, and dove into the kiss. He seemed hesitant, at first, as if the sensation was still unfamiliar to him, but quickly relaxed. The softness of his lips against yours stunned you. You felt like a sensation of pure warmth was coursing through you. Even more so when you felt the corners of his lips raise into a smile, as he snuck his arms around your back, and pressed his body closer up against yours. That small sign of validation felt so right, and, to be truthful, it was a relief, when you thought about how long you had wanted to do this for.Â
It felt like floating on a cloud, in the middle of the room. Just you and him, holding onto each other, sharing a surprisingly tender kiss, for two criminals. You hoped it felt as good to him as it did to you.
It did. Although the room was quiet, he could hear the blood rushing to his ears, and felt his heart pounding in his chest. Finally getting to do this with you was a sensation like no other. He was overexcited, obviously, but a strange calm inhabited him, all the same. As if your presence alone sufficed to soothe him to his very core.
You loved him back... You really did !
He couldn't believe it ! It had been worth all the stress he had felt, if it meant getting to hold you like that. If it meant finally getting to kiss you, like he'd been dreaming of doing for months.
When your lips parted, the both of you stood quietly, with your forehead pressed against the other's, savouring this moment you just had. The begining of something beautiful, for sure.
He was the first to break the silence, speaking in a questioning tone:
"-So, um... do you wanna go on a date, or something, one of these days ?"
He drummed his fingers onto the side of your shoulder, nervously awaiting your answer.
"-Totally, yeah !" You nodded.
A long silence followed, instead of a display of excitement, during which you noted his bitter expression.
"-Nämen... it wasn't that fucking hard to say... could've been ten minutes ago."
"-You didn't know I liked you back, ten minutes ago. That's why."
The corners of his lips twitched up into a smile, as he considered how lucky he was to hear you say those words. Another, smaller silence. This time, you broke it.
"And, honestly, I'm glad you said it first, because I would have never had the balls to. It's been months of me being a total schoolgirl about it."
He had to bite his lips to contain a squeal of excitement, when hearing you say, loud and clear, that you'd felt the same for a while, too.
"-You kidding ?" He joked back. "I was scared shitless the whole time ! I thought I was gonna pass out !"
"-Yeah, I thought you were gonna do it, too !" You both laughed.
And with that, he wrapped his arms against you, and planted his face in the crook of your neck. You left a peck onto his temple, and heard a muffled chuckle from him. Your heart sunk into your chest, overcome with affection for that one crazy, awkward little maniac you worked with.
Love comes from the strangest places, after all...
