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apocalypticwafflekitten · 2 years

Text

Safe in Your Arms

James Wesley x Reader

A/N: Basically I watched Daredevil and my hand slipped. Listened to Someone to Stay by Vancouver Sleep Clinic while writing if y’all want to join in the vibes!

Original Imagine/ Summary Thingy: You’re Vanessa’s niece/nephew and you have a lil crush on Wesley and maybe, just maybe, he has a lil crush on you too. (Originally this was written with a fem!reader, but I changed it around a bit and it should be gender neutral now. But if there are any gendered terms still in there, let me know!)

Warnings: Mentions and discussion of kidnapping, mentions of blood, mentions of insomnia, overwhelming amounts of fluff, Wesley being Soft™️, things get a lil, slightly steamy there for a minute, but nothing sexual!

Word Count: 3620

This wasn’t exactly how you had intended to spend your night. The living room was dark, save for the light of the TV and the ambient, yellow glow from the corner lamp. You were curled up on your sofa, eyes to the TV. Your mind however, was drifting far away from whatever movie was on, and swirling with hazy memories of a dark warehouse and the crooked, smiling men that had taken you there.

Your apartment’s squeaky wooden floors brought you from your reverie, having only enough time to notice a quiet creak behind you before you heard a familiar, deep voice.

“What are you doing up?”

You turned toward the small hallway in your apartment and there you found Wesley in the doorway, dressed in soft-looking pajama pants and a Pink Floyd t-shirt. It was a jarring difference from the suits you were used to seeing him in, but you were happy for it. Something about seeing him in such…normal, unassuming pajamas made your heart flutter and your cheeks warm. You’d expected silk pajamas or something like that, but instead you got soft pants and a band t-shirt and you swore he’d never looked more handsome. You took a moment to entertain the idea of Wesley at a concert, belting “inset song title” at the top of his lungs and made a mental note to ask him if he’d ever seen them live.

“Oh, hey Wes. I uh, I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t stop thinking about the warehouse.” You answered quietly, subconsciously rubbing over a bruise on your arm as you spoke. Wesley’s sudden appearance had momentarily pulled you from your thoughts, but that moment was gone and the warehouse once again consumed your thoughts.

You must have been quiet for a while because when you looked back at Wesley, he was watching you with a worried look - brows upturned and everything. So you shook yourself back into reality and asked him the first thing that came to mind, “What’s got you up this late?”

He was quiet for a moment before speaking - his eyes swept over you as you awaited his response.

“Insomnia. A relatively new development, but nothing I can’t deal with.” Once again, he paused, hesitation lingering in the silence, “Is there…anything I can do to help you?”

“Um, I think I’m okay. Just scared I guess. Even now that I’m home,” you sigh, your shoulders drooping with your exhale, ”I’m sorry you have to deal with that by the way. It’s gotta suck.”

“It’s not too bad. Like I said, it’s nothing I can’t handle,” Wesley responds, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “What's on your mind? What’s keeping you up?” He asks, stepping closer to the couch, his socks padding softly on the hardwood floor.

“It’s silly stuff,” you start, looking away from him and fiddling with your hands, “Well, I guess it’s not really silly since I did get kidnapped, but I’m just…I’m scared that it’ll happen again. I know Fisk promised my safety, Hell, that’s why you're here” you paused for a brief moment, “But I can’t stop worrying that someone will figure out how to get to me again. I can’t stop thinking about the warehouse; I can’t get the image out of my head. Every time I see the bruises in the mirror I’m back in that chair and I-I don’t ever want to go back there. I mean, I was there for days. They’d come in and taunt me, and they’d laugh when I begged them to stop. Sometimes they’d come in and beat me around just because they could.” You paused to regain your composure with a few shaky breaths, then continued, “I’d never felt so isolated. It was terrifying. I-I don’t wanna be alone like that again.” By the time you’d finished speaking your voice was beginning to tremble, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. You hadn’t even noticed Wesley moving until he sat next to you.

He moved carefully, reaching for your hands once he’d sat down. He looked you right in your eyes and he held your hands softly, as if anything more would cause you to flinch away from him. His voice was firm with sincerity as he spoke your name, “No one will ever get to you again. And you will never have to be alone again. I-,” he caught himself, then let go of a breath, “We will keep you safe.”

You gave him a small smile and squeezed his hands, “Thank you Wesley.”

“Of course,” he scoots just a little closer to you, running his thumb across the back of your hand, “Would you like some company? Since neither of us are sleeping tonight?”

“I'd like that. Yeah.” you respond with a small smile, scooting closer yourself.

Wesley smiles and keeps hold of your hands as he moves to the other end of the couch, only letting go when you can’t reach any further. He settles in the corner and pats the seat next to him.

“C’mere.”

You don’t think about it. Or what it might mean. Or what he means. You don’t care what’s implied when you all but rush to sit right beside him with a new warmth in your gut. All you think about is how warm he is and how comfy you feel when you lean your head on his shoulder, settling in to watch the rest of whatever movie was on.

"Thank you for staying with me by the way. It does help after everything." You quietly confess after a moment.

"I'm glad to stay if it means you feel safe." Wesley assured, a gentle warmth in his voice.

You were quiet for a beat, but eventually spoke up with a quiet huffed laugh,

“I was worried it might annoy you honestly. I mean, you’re staying here a whole week just to make sure I don’t get kidnapped again. I feel like I’m wasting your time.”

Wesley turns to you with a concerned, bewildered look, “You are never a waste of my time. Whether it’s being told to stay with you for a week to ensure your safety, or stopping by to say hi while you're working at the pool hall, any time I spend with you is time well spent.” Wesley has this warm smile on his face that’s so sincere you couldn't doubt what he’d said if you wanted to.

You don’t really have any response to that except a small nod, and Wesley is surprised by his own sincerity, so you both turn back to the TV and he smiles when he feels you return your head to rest on his shoulder.

It’s a few minutes later when he oh so sneakily wraps his arm around your shoulder. You can’t help the beam of happiness that surges through you and lands in a smile on your face.

Wesley’s heart is beating erratically. He hopes you can’t hear it as he wraps himself around you. He thinks he’d die if you knew how this closeness makes him tremble. He’d never be able to look at you again if you saw the blush on his face, God you were so warm and soft and holding you was everything in the world.��

“You know, Fisk tore up the city looking for you.” Wesley began unprompted, as if the words just burst from him regardless of whether he wanted them to or not, “The moment Vanessa called saying you were missing - I've never seen him look that scared. He had everyone on his payroll looking for you."

"Even you?" You queried.

"Yes, even me." He smiled down at you once again, giving your shoulder a small squeeze.

There was a beat of silence. You smiled at a memory and took hold of Wesley’s hand, interlocking your fingers without really thinking about it.

“You wanna know something Wes?"

"What?"

"You're the first thing I remember seeing when I woke up. I was tied to that chair in the warehouse, and you were telling me that everything would be alright. The light above me was so bright, but you kept saying that I was safe. I remember feeling your hand on my face and feeling - believing - that I was safe." You leaned closer to him, rubbing your thumb across his palm.

"You smiled a bit when you woke up." Wesley recalled fondly, although the memory had now gleaned a new weight within him.

“I did.” A knowing smile broke out on your face and it made Wesley weak. Even through the dim lighting in your living room, he could see how bright your eyes were and the happiness held within them. He wanted to hold that smile on your face forever. Just the thought that he was the reason you were smiling like that made him want to jump for joy and tell everyone who would listen: ‘hey I did that! Look at what I did!’

“Hey Wes, can I ask you a question?”

It took him a second to come back, your voice pulling him back to the present.

“Uh yeah-yeah, sure.”

You didn’t seem to notice him stumbling over his sentence. You just looked down at your hands as you spoke. “I just-I’ve noticed, since you’ve been here, that you’re always kinda…tense? You seem like you haven’t relaxed at all since I was brought back home. I know you’re still on the job technically, but- y’know- “

The sentence slowly died on your tongue, but Wesley knew what you were asking. He looked away from you, down to his lap as if he would find an answer etched in the weave of his pajama pants. It took him a moment to find his words, and even then, you could hardly hear him.

“It’s…hard to relax knowing you could still be in danger.” Wesley’s voice was quiet - barely a whisper. He didn’t meet your eyes. His were stuck on the bruise that smudged itself across your forearm. His brows drew together as his thumb came to trace its outline. It seemed his mind was elsewhere, thinking about the warehouse just as you had been before.

But with a gentle dip of your head and your hand coming to stop his tracing, you catch his eyes and give him a small smile, “If it makes any difference, I always feel safe when you’re around.”

It took a second for that to sink in. He visibly buffered when he heard what you’d said.

“You do?” His voice was soft and full of disbelief. “Why?”

“Well, for one thing, you’ve always got a gun in your back pocket” you laugh a little and he can’t help the smile that breaks out on his face, “but really, you’ve always felt safe to me. Of course, you’re Fisk’s right hand man so that helps, but aside from that it feels like no matter what happens you’ll always be able to keep me safe. Like you’ll always be there for me.

He paused, visibly shaken by your response.

“Can I tell you something?” Your name fell off his lips in a quiet whisper,

“Of course.” You respond, and Wesley can see hope in your eyes.

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing followed. Instead, he looked at your face. Your beautiful eyes, your soft lips. He couldn't think of anything to say.

Before he realized it, his hand had reached for your face, and he found himself holding your cheek, his thumb swiping gently across your face. He was in awe. There was something so tender about the soft way you rested your head in his hand. He felt you lean your weight into his hold and he swore his heart melted right there. Something soft and mushy took place in his chest and he never wanted that feeling to go away. He just wanted you, like this, for the rest of time.

He hadn’t realized that he was leaning into you until your noses brushed together. He pulled back a little, but when he noticed you’d followed him, and that your eyes were closed, he dipped to your lips and kissed you.

He felt your lips move against his and their soft press spurred him on. He let out a heavy, shuddering breath as his hands came to frame your face, both of them cradling your head with adoring gentleness. He kissed you harder, hungry to know the curve of your lips - to memorize it and feel it tingle against his own whenever he thought of you.

And thinking of you brought him back to reality. He realized all too quick what he was doing and pulled away, regretting it the second he did. He couldn’t look you in the eye. His cheeks flushed, embarrassment set aflame in his gut.

“I’m sorry. I-I should have asked first. That wasn’t particularly considerate of me, I-“

“Wes,” You cut off his spiraling apology with a small smile and a squeeze of his hand.

His eyes met yours and they were hopeful.

“Kiss me again.”

He gave you an incredulous smile, but didn’t hesitate a moment otherwise. He held the back of your neck and pulled you into him, kissing you with the fervor held in a long-pining heart.

You smiled. You smiled because of him. Again. And he felt it against his lips. He felt your hands lay themselves against his chest, one hand sneaking up to play with the curls at the base of his neck.

A soft moan escaped him when you gave his hair a tiny tug, and you couldn’t help but chuckle against his lips.

You were caught off guard when he pulled away, but when he dipped down to place a kiss on your bruised collarbone, and then the bruise on your arm, the surprise dissipated and your heart melted. He kissed every bruise he could see, mumbling against your skin as he did so.

“I swear this will never happen again. I’ll kiss every bruise away and when they’re gone, I’ll lay kisses where they were so those spots never know pain again. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

You didn’t know what to say, but when he leaned up, meeting your eyes, you nodded to let him know you understood.

When every bruise was kissed - some even kissed twice - Wesley leaned back up, held the side of your face once more, and kissed you again.

He felt so much in that moment. Anger toward your captors who dared to lay their hands on you. Worry for your safety. He wanted to wipe every bruise off your skin as if they were just smudged makeup and help you heal after what happened at the warehouse. And yet, he’d never been happier in his life. He was kissing you. Every ounce of passion he’d ever felt paled in comparison to the bright, shining warmth that was bursting from his chest in this moment. He never wanted to stop touching you. And he never wanted to go another moment without feeling your hands on him. He wanted to feel your hands on his face, his chest, in his hair. He wanted you all around him.

His lips felt swollen when he pulled away, and yours looked like they might bruise. He’d kissed you hard and you seem to have done the same to him. The both of you took a minute to breathe - watching the heavy breaths expand through each other's chests.

But after a moment, when you both were breathing normally again, Wesley spoke what he had been thinking.

“I didn’t say it before, but I’m happy that you feel safe when I’m around.”

You smiled at him and took his hands in yours, “You know what Wes?”

“What?”

“I feel even safer in your arms.”

~~~~~~~~~

TAGS!

@justalittletomato @fanficsforheartandsoul

#james wesley #james wesley x reader #ive been sitting on this one for a long time #and ive finally finished it!#Ive been wanting to get it written for a while now and I'm excited to finally get it out there!#I hope yall like this one as much as I do!

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