#kilgrave x jessica

[darklinaforever]

I think I must have 3 super problematic ships. Like, you know, you sit down and say ;

"Wow. Wait, I ship that ? Really ? Why ?"

This happened to me like 3 times.

So I think I must have 3 very problematic real ships in total.

And the conclusion of why was simply due to an alchemy between the actors.

But that didn't stop me from seeing the reality of these horrible relationships as they were canonically depicted.

I generally completely hate these male characters involved and only "like them" because they fulfill their villain roles very well, with great charisma.

I like them as villain, but as an individual they just disgust me.

And ironically, my favorite scene is always the guy's death caused by the girl. Oh, how enormously satisfying that is.

You see, shipping does not prevent you from completely understanding the reality of the characters and continuing to be invested with them in the direction that the story desires.

Shipping something problematic, even at the worst level, does not take away intellect points.

And for information, these ships are :

▪︎ Jessica & Kilgrave. | Show, Jessica Jones (I will add that on first viewing, Kilgrave simply terrified me, even if today he is one of my favorite villain ever).

▪︎ Daenerys & Viserys. | Show, Game of throne (and not ASOIAF books, because once again, it's all a question of acting chemistry).

▪︎ Jack & Sandie. | Movie, Last Night In Soho.

Afterwards, there is also the case of Frollo and Esmeralda from the classic Notre Dame de Paris, whose relationship, or at least Frollo's obsession with Esmeralda, fascinates me, but I don't really count it, because Frollo finally leaves of these pretty classic Villainous Crush that have fascinated tons of people over time. And again, it's more him as Villainous Crush and character in his obsession / passion for Esmeralda that fascinates me, than me really shipping the two characters together.

[ophelia-writes-fics]

i like when you get mad (i guess i'm pretty glad that you're alone) [kilgrave x reader - 18+]

You're a dancer at a club, and your shift just took a weird turn.

Tags (please read!): fem!reader, degradation, some mild praise, spanking, oral sex, face-fucking, cum swallowing, penetration, choking, erotic asphyxiation, unsafe/unprotected sex, face slapping, clit slapping, masochism (reader), sadism (kilgrave), humiliation, biting, scratching, bruising, some minor blood, threats, condescension, painplay, pain kink, minor bondage, edging, orgasm delay, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, mind control, mention of voyeurism/exhibitionism, slight dacryphilia, overstimulation, hair pulling, posessiveness

Word count: ~7.7k

CWs/TWs:

super dubious consent (reader likes him and consents to everything/is into the things they're doing without being compelled to, but some orders are given that can't be resisted and it's not pre-negotiated, so proceed with caution)

un-negotiated kink and unsafe choking/breathplay (i know you guys know but please don't choke anyone like this and please ask for consent in general but especially with kinks)

it's kilgrave. he's a walking red flag.

i'm not condoning anything irl, but this is fiction and i'm a kinky bitch, so i'm sexualizing this absolute maniac and i am having a lot of fun doing it lmao

You were leaning against the bar, scanning the crowd as you took your first shot of the shift. It was Friday night, with most of the crowd being well-dressed men who looked like they’d just finished with a long day of work, which meant you’d be going home with enough tips to pay your rent early. 

The most eager members of the crowd were seated near the stage, where your friend had them utterly captivated with an elaborate pole routine, so you began to search the back of the house for customers who might want something more private. A group of college girls already drunk off Red Bull and vodka, cheering and shouting compliments at the dancers with the kind of unbridled joy and solidarity that only drunk girls can summon…a man who’d clearly been dragged there by his friends, his eyes glued to his phone, his blush visible even in the dimly lit club…a bouncer pulling a particularly belligerent customer towards the door…

There. On the other side of the room was a tall, sharp-featured man in a dark purple suit, sitting alone, looking thoroughly bored with the performance onstage, glancing over at you every now and again with what appeared to be a look of interest. Perfect. 

You quickly ran a hand through your hair, took a deep breath, and plastered on your most winningly seductive smile before strolling towards him with as much ease as you could muster in six-inch stilettos. 

“Hello there, love,” you purred, leaning forward against the table he was seated at. “Is there anything I can do for you tonight?” 

You thought you’d gotten every possible response to that question before. You’d seen everything from polite rejection to aggressive groping to desperate requests for friendship or conversation, but what you’d never experienced and certainly weren’t expecting was a glance up and down your body followed by a discontented sigh and a slight frown, then a “Fine. You’ll do.” 

You opened your mouth to tell the stranger off, but before you could, he held up a finger to silence you, then leaned in closer. 

“Take me to your most secluded room. Don’t ask any questions, don’t stop to talk to anyone. Go.” 

Your head immediately began to spin. Your brain felt cloudy, as if someone had swept every thought from your mind and replaced them with a thick, impenetrable fog. Before you could try to shake the feeling away, your body was already moving, walking briskly towards the back of the club, seemingly completely independently of your own will. Get to a private room echoed over and over, clouding all the other thoughts that you were desperately trying to muster. You felt wrong, like a puppet with your limbs being jerked around by some unseen controller, no free will of your own to be found. No, not a puppet, your mind vaguely registered. A doll. 

You heard one of your friends calling you, asking something or maybe just saying hello, but when you tried to turn your head to respond, don’t stop to talk to anyone pierced your skull like a shard of ice, ringing in your ears like an intrusive thought. You didn’t stop walking even for a second. You didn’t even look at your friend. Something was very, very wrong. 

Your stomach was in knots by the time you got to an empty room, your heart racing against your ribcage like a trapped bird against a windowpane. You leaned against the wall, trying desperately to steady yourself as the strange man followed you inside. 

“Lock the door,” he ordered with a dismissive wave of his hand. The door was closed and bolted shut before you even realized you’d moved. 

You tried to say, or even think What did you do to me? But the same cold, cloudy pain overtook your head. Don’t ask questions. You shut your eyes tightly and clenched your fist as your body swayed, shaken by the unfamiliar sensation, feeling your breath grow shallow with panic. When your vision refocused, you stared at the stranger, who was tossing his suit jacket aside, reclined lazily on the couch like he hadn’t a care in the world. He fixed you with an annoyed look. 

“God, don’t grimace like that. The least you could do is give me a smile.”

Your face rearranged itself into the same winning, seductively charming smile you’d had on earlier, but you could tell that your eyes weren’t engaged. He didn’t seem to mind, though. In fact, he didn’t seem to have noticed your fear at all, grinning back at you like the devil himself. 

“That’s more like it. Now, kneel for me. Arms by your sides, hands in your lap, chin up. There you are.” His smile widened as he watched your body automatically follow his orders. 

He stood up and began to pace in a slow circle around you. You felt his dark eyes piercing you, evaluating you, examining your body for any minor flaw or imperfection, even though your vision remained fixed straight ahead and your smile remained in place. The carpet dug into your knees, your stiletto heels stabbing the backs of your thighs. But still, you knelt, unmoving and obedient as he stroked your hair like you were a well-behaved pet. 

It felt good, you thought, feeling a knot in your stomach form at the realization. He was incredibly handsome, with fingers as long and slender as the rest of him. You might have invited him back here on your own even if he hadn’t performed what you were growing more and more sure of was mind control. The thought made your blood run cold, but at the same time, you could still feel how red your face was under his gaze. 

Your pulse quickened as he moved back around to face you, still with that same analytical stare. His eyes lingered on your chest as he bent down slightly, moving his hand to caress the side of your face. His thumb brushed your lower lip, still frozen in place from where he had ordered you to smile. 

“Open your mouth,” he said, and you obeyed, with another rush of arousal immediately followed by shame. He pressed his finger against your tongue, eyebrows raising as you moaned at the touch. 

He pressed harder, still keeping his hand firmly on your jaw. “You like this, don’t you? Tell me the truth, don’t hold back.” His voice was low, his tone vaguely threatening in a way you couldn’t quite place.

You nodded, mouth still agape. Your face flushed at the eagerness of your response, the embarrassment at finding pleasure in being controlled so thoroughly sinking deeper and deeper into you. You’d never felt anything like it, and the adrenaline from the initial terror of being manipulated was quickly turning into an aphrodisiac when combined with your attraction to him. 

He scoffed - a short, mocking laugh. “My god,” he grinned, straightening up. “Then you can consider yourself a very, very lucky girl.” The swell of pride in your chest wasn’t at all hindered by the way his tone darkened; you couldn’t even tell if you were genuinely delighted at having impressed him or if you were just following his orders and “considering yourself lucky.” From the way your brain clouded over and the way your cunt tightened onto nothing, it might have been both. You groaned slightly at the feeling, then quickly bit down on your lip to try and suppress the sound. 

If he noticed, he gave no outward expression. Instead, he reclined back onto the couch, his legs falling open slightly, and he beckoned you forward with a wave of his hand. 

“Come here. You can kneel at my feet where you belong.” The way he said it was so light, so casual that you could tell he wasn’t trying to be dominant or turn you on. He just genuinely believed it. God, the ego on him. Still, you started to climb to your feet to walk over. 

However, before you could even stand all the way up, he raised a hand to stop you. “Ah-ah-ah. No, none of that. You can crawl. You look ridiculous walking around in those shoes anyway.” 

You collapsed back to your knees, cringing slightly at the bruises you knew you would have tomorrow as you crawled towards him. 

“Good girl, so you do know your place,” he said, his tone taking on a thick layer of condescension as he patted your head. “Tell me, how often do you sleep with your clients here?” He barely even looked at you as he asked, staring off into the distance as if you were boring him. 

“Never,” you replied immediately. 

“Never?” He raised his eyebrows, sparing you a quick, scrutinizing glance. “Then what exactly do you do in little rooms like these?” 

“Private stripteases. Lap dances. I let some touch me if they pay me enough,” you answered truthfully, realizing only after you’d spoken that he hadn’t ordered you to do so. You prayed silently that your answer was good enough. A voice in the back of your head questioned why you were so desperate for his approval, but it was quickly overcome by another wave of lust. 

Despite the work you did, it had been far, far too long since you’d been fucked, especially by a man as pretty as the one seated in front of you. And as much as you hated to admit it even to yourself, whatever power he had was one that you desperately wanted him to use on you. You’d never been so scared or so turned on in your life, and your deep masochistic streak was begging for more. 

The man snapped his thin fingers an inch away from your face, snapping you out of your thoughts. You blinked hard, realizing you hadn’t heard a single thing he said since you answered his last question. 

“Hey,” he reprimanded sharply, punctuated with a hard slap to the side of your face. “Snap out of it. God, what’s the point of sitting around here with you if you’re not even going to listen?” 

“No, wait, I’m sorry, I just—“ 

He cut you off with a disgusted roll of his eyes. “Don’t grovel. If you’re sorry, find a way to make it up to me.” 

You swallowed hard, nodding your head, mind racing. Your eyes flicked down to his lap, then back up to his face. 

“May I…well…I mean, would you like me to…” you stammered, mentally kicking yourself for how timid you sounded. 

“What? Spit it out,” he snapped. 

“Can I please suck your dick, please?” The request was out of your mouth before you even had time to process it. 

He laughed again, the same sharp mocking laugh he’d given you earlier, fixing you with a self-satisfied smile. “Oh, you really are desperate, aren’t you? Fine. Hurry up and start. Make it good.” 

Of course, you followed his orders. The ice-cold feeling that came with trying to resist felt entirely foreign to you now, and the brain fog that set over you whenever he gave a command barely had time to take hold before you obeyed. 

You started slowly, gently licking the tip of his dick before gradually working your way down, letting your mouth adjust to the length, pressing your tongue against him as you gently bobbed your head. 

While you were still struggling to take even half of his dick in your mouth, he roughly grabbed your hair, and without warning, shoved your head down to the base of his cock. 

You choked hard, tears immediately streaming down your face, but you couldn’t get even a second of relief with the way he held you firmly in place. You took a deep breath in through your nose, but the air was immediately knocked from your lungs as he pulled your head back, then shoved you back down, thrusting forcefully into the back of your throat. You gave a stifled cry and frantically grasped at his leg, trying to get leverage to break away, but you felt him slap your hand away before pinning it against the couch cushion. 

“You can take it. You want to impress me, don’t you? Stop struggling and let me fuck your throat.”

Your body went limp, all reflexes to break away and gasp for air vanishing in an instant. You could feel yourself choking, your face dripping with spit and tears, but you didn’t care. Both his hands were twisted in your hair, pulling hard, shoving your mouth onto his cock over and over again like you were a toy. You moaned desperately, half from pain and half from delirious pleasure. After what felt like ages, he ripped you away, forcing you to look into his dark eyes.

“Put some fucking effort into it,” he hissed, releasing your hair from his wrenching grasp. “Show me why I shouldn’t get rid of you right now.” 

You immediately set to work, taking as much of him as you could in your mouth and stroking what you couldn’t take with your right hand. You didn’t know what “getting rid of you” would entail. You didn’t doubt for a second that he could kill you. You felt briefly concerned that this didn’t turn you off in the slightest before your thoughts were pulled back to the task at hand. 

You sucked hard, running your tongue against the most sensitive places you knew of, gently teasing him, just enough to hopefully make him feel as desperate as you did. Your efforts were immediately rewarded with a low moan that became an almost feral growl, feeling him thrust upward involuntarily. You doubled down, relishing in every sound you could draw from him. 

He exhaled sharply when you pulled back, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock and flicking your tongue, tasting the pre-cum that dripped from him. He reached out, hand tangling in your hair again, but not quite as hard as before. 

“Right there,” he sighed, holding your head in place, eyes shut tightly. “Fuck, there you go, right there, just like that, harder…oh, god, what a good fucking girl you are…” As you felt him get closer and closer, listening to the way he moaned for you, you felt yourself grow hot all over, more and more desperate to feel him let go, to cum down your throat.

 You whined sharply, pushing even further, your body aching all over with unfulfilled desire. You took every single inch of him, swallowing hard around his cock, pressing your nose to his stomach, ignoring the way your throat tightened and instead focusing on how badly you wanted him, how terribly you wanted to impress him…

Your efforts paid off immediately when he forcibly pinned you where you were, grabbing your hair as he came with a rough, broken shout, his cum hitting the back of your throat. 

After what felt like ages, you felt him collapse backward against the couch cushions. You pulled away, quickly swallowing the mouthful you’d accumulated, then opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue to show him how well you’d taken it. 

He softly laughed, peering at you with a slightly unfocused look before closing his eyes again, still on cloud nine, chest rising and falling quickly as the overwhelming pleasure slowly subsided. 

You leaned your head against his inner thigh, gazing up at him with a lovestruck stare. He looked so vulnerable like this, open and overwhelmed with all the sensations flooding him, a slight smile on his lips.

 A man with all the power in the world, everything he could ever want only a few words away, everyone wrapped around his little finger, and yet here he was, your head between his legs, absolutely radiant in the afterglow of his orgasm. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. 

He really is cute, you thought, even if he is terrifying. You examined his face carefully, taking in every detail — his sharp cheekbones, his thin nose, his dark eyelashes, the soft pink of his lips, the curve of his jawline and neck. There was something almost delicate about him, hidden by how deeply intimidating he was, and you hadn’t noticed it until now. He was just…well, he was just so pretty. There was just no other word for it, even now (or maybe especially now) that his sophisticated appearance was ruffled. His hair, once perfectly combed, was messy, a few dark strands falling into his eyes. His pristine suit was wrinkled, jacket long discarded, his tie partially undone, his shirtsleeves hastily rolled up, his belt and pants unfastened, and to top it all off, his gorgeous cock resting against his stomach, still half-hard. He was a fucking vision. You could have stared at him for ages. 

You gently tapped his leg to get his attention. “You know, I don’t actually think I caught your name,” you said, batting your eyelashes a bit. Your smile faded when you were met with a cold silence. He shook his head, straightening up and brushing his hair back into place. 

“You don’t need to know my name,” he snapped, all the bliss from a moment ago having vanished as he pushed you aside, readjusting his clothes. 

You sat back, thoroughly dejected. You had thought you’d done well. You wanted to make him feel good, and you had, but it wasn’t enough. You shouldn’t have felt like this about one of your clients, but you’d never met anyone else like him, and you wanted more. 

Your heart sped up as he reached for his jacket. Gathering his things meant he would leave, and an impulse deep inside you was yelling at you to do something. This wasn’t a job anymore, you needed him. He’d gotten you in the palm of his hand, desperate and wanting, and now that you had done what he wanted, he was acting like you were invisible. You weren’t going to let things go that easily. 

You pulled yourself up onto the couch, ignoring the ache in your knees and the pain on the backs of your thighs where your high heels had dug into your skin. Before he could react, you climbed onto his lap, facing him, arms around his shoulders. You’d never broken your “no kissing clients” rule, but that rule was the furthest thing from your mind as you leaned in for a kiss, pressing your lips firmly against his. 

With your eyes closed tightly, you barely even realized he had shoved you away until you landed on your back against the leather of the couch. Your eyes snapped open, finding the man standing before you, with a look on his face that was a mix of anger and bewilderment and something else you couldn’t quite place. He opened his mouth as if preparing to ask you something, but he closed it again, turning away from you. You bit your lip as he paced slowly, his hand over his eyes. Had you read the situation wrong? Was he ashamed that he’d come back here with you? Did he not like being kissed? Had you come on too strong? Was it over the line? 

Your heart skipped a beat as he stopped, focusing fully on you. You felt cornered, like a prey animal about to be devoured. He looked angry, vengeful, his already dark eyes completely devoid of light as he approached you. 

“Strip, then bend over the couch, facing the wall. Now.” 

Chills ran down your spine as you quickly undressed. You hadn’t been wearing much before, but naked, you felt completely exposed under his cold glare. You reluctantly turned away, the brain fog coming back like a tidal wave in response to your slight resistance, and you bent over, just like he’d told you to do. You could feel yourself shaking, terrified at the idea of what he would do to you, but with a hint of anticipation that kept you from falling off the edge into panic. 

You closed your eyes tightly and tried to ground yourself in the brief moments of silence, waiting for whatever would come next, but they shot open as soon as you felt the sharp, unmistakable shock of his belt whipping you across the backs of your thighs at full force. 

You cried out involuntarily, from shock and from the stinging, nearly unbearable pain. You hadn’t even had time to compose yourself when the second hit came, the pain intensifying as he struck the same place even harder. Your skin burned and you felt your eyes well up with tears, but you could feel the heat of arousal inside you growing, your masochistic side alight with pleasure. You wanted more. 

“Fuck!” you gasped as he landed a series of quick, searing lashes across your thighs and ass. Your nails dug into the couch as you bit your lip, trying to stifle a scream as the metal buckle whipped into your skin. Your head spun. It stung, so badly you could barely take it, but it felt fucking incredible, endorphins and adrenaline coursing through your body, making every sensation electric as he kept going, relentlessly striking you over and over again. 

You were granted a temporary reprieve when he leaned in close to your ear, running his fingernails down your back, hard enough that you knew there would be marks tomorrow. 

“Don’t even think about holding back,” he hissed, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “I want everyone outside this room to hear you scream for mercy, and I want everyone to know you’re not going to get it.” 

Immediately he resumed his punishment, the sound of the belt hitting you again and again echoing off the walls. Your body instinctively followed his orders and you felt yourself cry out involuntarily, a broken sound halfway between a gasp and a yell. You barely even registered it as your own voice. 

Thwack. 

A particularly brutal hit made you cry out, arching your back in a desperate attempt to ease the pain. 

“Fuck, please…” you begged, feeling like you were on the verge of fainting. 

“‘Please’ what?”

Thwack. 

Thwack. 

The ice cold feeling shot through your brain like a lightning strike. Beg for mercy. Scream for it. You desperately wanted to, but at the same time…

“Harder, fuck, please, harder!” 

The words were out of your mouth before you even realized you’d spoken them. Immediately, the room fell silent. You gasped for air, still reeling from the searing pain and the frigid ache of trying to resist him. 

He took hold of your hair without warning, yanking your head around to look at him. 

“Repeat that,” he snapped. 

“I— I want it harder,” you panted, trying to force your blurred vision to focus. 

A long, tense pause. 

“You like this.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Yes, god, yes.” 

“Of fucking course you do.” 

He grabbed you, turning you around forcefully so that you were facing him, then without warning, his hands were wrapped around your neck, so tightly that you couldn’t even take a moment to breathe in, your windpipe fully constricted.  

“I bet you like this too, don’t you?” he muttered through gritted teeth. 

You nodded desperately, as best you could with your neck being held firmly in place. 

“Listen to me,” he growled. “You live and die by my orders. You have no other purpose but to please me, do you understand? Just look at you. I could do anything to you and you would love it. You get off on being whipped, you get off on being choked half to death…I could beat you senseless and you would cum from it.” 

You moaned in ecstasy, but it came out as barely a whimper. You could feel your heartbeat in your temples, your vision going dark around the edges as his fingers dug into your neck. 

“I’m going to do whatever I want to you. That’s all you’re good for. Do you understand?”

You tried to answer, but you couldn’t move. Your head was pounding, your throat feeling like it was about to be crushed. You saw stars, multicolored lights popping in and out of your vision. The darkness around the edges was rapidly expanding, bleeding further and further into your line of sight until you couldn’t see at all. 

At the last possible moment, before you could feel yourself slip over the edge into unconsciousness, he let go, dropping your limp body and watching you gasp for air, coughing and retching as you struggled to breathe in after being deprived of oxygen for so long. 

“Pathetic,” he scoffed, glaring down at you like you were nothing more than dust. 

You lowered your head, thoroughly humiliated, pressing your forehead against your knees as you gulped in mouthful after mouthful of oxygen, mind racing. He could have killed you. He could have choked you to death without a second thought and you wouldn’t have been able to stop him, you told yourself, but still, in the deepest parts of your mind, the danger thrilled you. 

You needed him to touch you, to hurt you, to ruin you. You wanted him to do whatever he wanted to you, and the thought made your stomach ache with terror as much as it turned you on. 

He caressed your hair in a way that would have almost seemed tender if he hadn’t just strangled you half to death. You looked up slightly, and he tilted your chin up so you were face to face. He moved your head slightly to one side, then the other, examining you carefully, and smiled with a sick satisfaction. 

“You’ll have bruises on your neck for a week,” he praised with a slap to your cheek. You moaned softly at the impact, closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling. 

He bent down, picking you up ever so slightly to rearrange your body in the position he wanted, laying you down and spreading your legs. You could see from your position how hard he was. Your pain had turned him on as much as it had done to you. 

You stared up at him as he admired his work, stroking his cock as he gazed at the bruises and welts and scratches he’d left on your skin.  

“Come here,” you pleaded, your voice still raw and hoarse from being choked, spreading your legs further. 

He was immediately on top of you, his thin hips pressed against yours, hands wrapped tightly around your wrists. “Don’t you dare give me orders,” he spat, but despite the venom behind it, you could tell from the way his hips rubbed against you that he was as desperate as you were. You felt his cock brush against your clit as he bit down hard on your neck, surely adding yet another bruise to the collection you’d accumulated. 

You bit your lip, wanting him to just stop teasing, to hurry up and fuck your brains out, but as you were considering whether or not to try and resist his don’t give orders command, you felt the tip of his dick press against your entrance. You’d known it was big, your aching throat was doing an excellent job at reminding you of that, but you still couldn’t stifle a gasp at the feeling. It was just a whole different experience like this. 

The beautiful man above you gave you a look that sent chills down your spine. 

“You want it,” he whispered, leaning in so close he could have kissed you. 

You nodded eagerly, fixing him with a pleading gaze. You hadn’t needed the command in the slightest. 

“Beg.” 

“Please…” you whined, your nails digging into your palms as you clenched your hands into fists, struggling to keep still. “Please, please…”

“Not good enough. Beg harder.” You had no idea how he managed to sound thoroughly indifferent, even while he was this hard.

Your already racing heartbeat quickened. “Please, I’m begging you, fuck me, take me, ruin me, do anything you want to me, I —fuck— I need it, I need it so badly, please, I’ll do anything…”

That same sadistic, terrifying little smile crept across his face. “Anything?” 

“Yes, anything, just please, god, fuck me!” 

“That’s what I like to hear,” he murmured, before roughly thrusting into you, as deep as he could possibly get, without giving you so much as a second to adjust. 

You couldn’t even try to hold back a scream, and he had the nerve to laugh in your face as he slapped his hand over your mouth. 

“Oh, careful, don’t shout like that! They’ll think I’m doing something horrible to you in here,” he grinned, punctuating his words with hard, deep strokes that hit every sensitive spot inside you. “It sounds like you’re in absolute agony. But we both know better than that, don’t we?”

He picked up the pace, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder to fuck you deeper than you’d thought possible. 

“You know, I really thought that you’d put up a little more of a fight,” he continued, almost nonchalant despite the grin on his face and the vicious pounding he was giving your sensitive cunt. “I thought I’d have to order you to get off on the pain, or that I’d have to bash your pretty head against the wall to get you to listen. But I got lucky, didn’t I? I just happened to come across the most disgusting, most depraved little whore in the city, so eager and willing to listen, to take whatever I give you.” 

The hand that wasn’t keeping you quiet brushed against a sensitive spot on your inner thigh and you all but melted, whimpering with pleasure underneath him as he fucked you harder. 

“Oh, that’s it, let me hear you moan,” he said, throwing his head back with a growl, pulling his hand away from your mouth. “You don’t care who hears, do you? I bet you like it. I bet you love knowing that all your little friends and all your clients are hearing you get your pretty cunt ruined by a complete stranger, don’t you? You like them knowing that I hit you and choked you and you still let me fuck you like this. You just love that everyone knows that you get off on me hurting you, that everyone knows you’re just a desperate slut for pain.” He punctuated the last word with a hard, backhanded slap across your face. 

You nodded frantically, moaning your assent, hands grasping at his arms, holding on for dear life as he completely wrecked you. You felt him grin as he leaned in to bite your neck, his tongue darting over your sensitive skin as he did so. 

Your hand wandered, finding its way to his dark hair, and you couldn’t stop yourself from running your fingers through it, pulling ever so slightly, not wanting to risk his wrath again but unable to resist the temptation. Your eyes widened with surprise when he gasped and moaned, his teeth temporarily leaving your neck before he recovered and bit you again, much harder, this time on a sensitive spot just below your jaw that made you cry out. When he was satisfied with the mark he’d left, he broke away. 

“You know what would be fun?” he teased, his tone menacing as he roughly grabbed your breast. You shook your head, unable to take your eyes off him. “I’d just love to see what it would be like if you weren’t such an easy little slut.” He paused, running his hand up your body, admiring the marks he’d left with a self-satisfied look. 

“Put up a fight for me. That way, I can show you exactly how filthy whores like you deserve to be treated.” He sat up, his fingers clutching your hips so hard that you knew they’d leave even more bruises on your already aching body, never once faltering in his steady pace. 

You flew into action immediately, frantically trying to push him away, trying to kick hard enough to get him off of you, despite the fact that your body was still aching for more. He laughed, a quick cruel sound, almost surprised by how readily you threw yourself into the role of his struggling victim, but he grabbed your wrists and pinned them down above your head without missing a beat, leaving you even more helpless than you already were. 

You moaned, feeling the way his dick throbbed inside you when you struggled harder, trying in vain to remove yourself from his grasp. Fucking sadist. You thrashed harder, your body still reflexively following his orders, but to no avail; he had you completely pinned in place. 

Almost without realizing you were doing so, you jerked your head upward, biting the exposed skin between his neck and shoulder and digging your teeth in hard, barely even noticing how fiercely you had latched onto him until you tasted blood. 

“Fuck!” he shouted, letting go of your wrists, hands immediately moving to grab your shoulders.  You let go with a sharp inhale the moment you realized what you’d done, horrified at your own actions. He roughly shoved you down, forcing your mouth away, still fucking you harder than you thought possible. 

“God, I should fucking kill you for that, I really, really should,” he growled. He turned his head slightly to look at the bite you’d left, scowling when he saw the blood beginning to seep into the collar of his shirt. He let go of one of your shoulders to grab your chin, forcing you to stare at the damage you’d caused. 

“Look at what you did,” he spat through gritted teeth, with a wild, almost manic look in his eyes. “You think you have the right to do that? The right to defile me like that after I’ve taken such good care of you? Answer me.” 

You bit your tongue, wanting to point out that ‘taking good care of you’ had involved beating you black and blue with a belt, choking you half to death with his dick, and then strangling you until you were nearly unconscious. Sure, you’d enjoyed all of it, but still. 

“Answer me,” he repeated, harsher this time. “Or I swear to god I’ll kill you.” 

“You told me to fight back!” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, pettiness entering your voice despite the murderous look in his eyes that made it very clear he had been expecting you to beg for forgiveness. 

He stopped moving completely. He was still all the way inside you, and you could barely stop yourself from grinding your hips against him to try and get yourself off, but you didn’t dare move. The hand that had been gripping your jaw released, moving upward to pat your cheek gently. 

“I did tell you to fight back, didn’t I?” He was mocking you, his tone sickly sweet and condescending, like you were a particularly petulant child that he was trying to discipline. Against your better judgment, or maybe just to see what he’d do about it, you nodded. 

Before you could even realize what was happening, you were in terrible pain, a pain that knocked the air out of your lungs, your eyes immediately streaming with tears from the impact. 

It took you a moment to process that he had just punched you in the face as hard as he possibly could. 

You instinctively doubled over, curling into a ball, body and mind reeling from the blow. Your ears were ringing, your vision clouded over. It felt like your brain had been shaken vigorously inside your skull, nausea welling up inside you at the sensation, all of it so severe you were afraid you might faint.

In your dazed state, you could barely absorb what he was saying to you, only catching snippets here and there: “...didn’t fucking tell you to ruin my shirt…going to show you…disgusting girls like you…”

You felt something being wrapped around your wrists as he manhandled you so that your arms were above your head. He’d bound you up with his tie, you realized, feeling the delicate silk against your aching skin. You opened your eyes as you felt his hands on your ankles, roughly pulling you so that you were lying with your legs spread for him. There was, you observed as your vision refocused, a decent bit of blood on the collar and shoulder of his shirt, a stain that you were positive would never come out. What a shame. Probably a designer shirt, too. Must have been expensive. 

You were shocked back into reality by him throwing your legs over his shoulders, bending you in half, once again filling your cunt with a hard thrust. Despite the pain still throbbing behind your eyes, which was slowly receding, you were still so, so desperate for him. You’d been close when he’d stopped, and in your hypersensitive state, you could feel your pleasure building rapidly, and before long you were writhing in his arms.

“Please, don’t stop, please,” you begged, barely even processing the words that were coming out of your own mouth. “I’m so close, I need it, please, please, I need to cum, don’t stop…”

“No,” he snapped, giving you a furious glare. “Didn’t you hear what I said? You don’t get to cum. I wouldn’t have let you cum even before you bit me like a rabid animal. What makes you think you deserve it now?” His last word broke off with an involuntary groan, his pace growing erratic in a way that told you he was close to a second orgasm. He inhaled sharply, collecting himself before doubling down. “Don’t cum. No matter how close you get, hold it. Do you hear me? Do. Not. Cum.”

Despite his orders, you felt your muscles begin to tighten, your pleasure mounting in a way that normally would have sent you over the edge, but nothing happened. You physically couldn’t cum. The feeling just kept building and building, far past what you thought was your breaking point, never stopping, overwhelming you to near-madness and never giving you a moment’s relief, and you bit your lip to stifle a scream. 

“Oh, don’t try to act all pitiful now,” he growled, punctuating it with a hard slap to your already oversensitive clit that made you cry out. “You know damn well that you earned this. And if you ever try to bite me like that again, I’ll make this permanent, do you hear me?”

Your eyes flew open, widening in terror. He couldn’t do that. Could he? 

The look on his face told you that he absolutely could. 

“Oh, it’d wear off eventually,” he purred, leaning in closer as if he were about to kiss you, his fingers just barely teasing your clit, his delicate touch unbearable in your hypersensitive state. “But I could tell you not to cum, over and over and over again, and you’d have no choice not to obey. I could keep you this close for days, weeks, months, maybe years if I wanted to, and drag you around with me like a needy little pet. I could order you to follow me around, to never leave my side. I could put you on a leash. I could parade you naked all over town, let everyone see how badly you want me, even with bruises and cuts all over you.” The thought sent a painful jolt of arousal through you, your legs shaking as you tried desperately to keep yourself from moaning at the idea. He grinned at you, making it very, very clear that you were doing a terrible job at hiding it. 

“Oh, of course that turns you on. Fucking depraved, aren’t you? Are you like this for everyone you meet, or do you just want me that badly?” 

You couldn’t form a concrete thought, let alone focus hard enough to give him an answer, but you knew his monstrous ego would love it if you could. You just wanted him that badly. 

His hand wrapped around your neck, not quite enough to choke you but hard enough so that you felt the marks from when he had. “God, who would have thought that this would be so fun? Beating and fucking a pathetic little thing like you, I barely had to order you to do a thing,” he teased, panting as he fucked you faster. “I’m going to cum inside you, and you’re going to like it. Beg for it. Do it. Now.” 

“Please,” You gasped for air, voice coming out as a choked whisper. You were in agony, every inch of your body burning with pain and anticipation and need for an orgasm that kept building and just wouldn’t happen. Burning hot tears were streaming down your face; you couldn’t stop them even if you wanted to. “Please, do it, cum inside me, I don’t care what happens, I need it, just…” 

Your pleading broke off into a desperate wail as he brushed a strand of hair out of your face. Even the gentle motion, combined with every other sensation you were feeling, was absolute torture, too much for you to bear. He grinned as you pulled away, trying to escape any more stimulation. 

“Oh, god, you look so damned pathetic…oh, god, fine, do it, cum for me, I want to see you break, just do it now--” His voice cracked, his hands desperately clutching at your hair as he came inside you with a desperate moan, feeling you tighten around him, burying his face in the crook of your neck.  

Your body went completely rigid at his command and you came hard, the feeling so intense that it felt like your skin was burning all over. You were vaguely aware that you were thanking him, over and over, unable to control the words coming out of your mouth. He silenced you with a forceful kiss, the first one he’d given you all night, and you melted into his touch, thoroughly overwhelmed. 

You felt his hips twitch, still riding out the last of his orgasm as you deliriously wrapped yourself around him, clinging on for dear life, moaning with ecstasy. 

Finally, he broke away from the kiss, and your body fell limp, overstimulated past your breaking point, so much so that you vaguely wondered how you were still conscious. Your legs dropped from where he had propped them on his shoulders and you lay there, trembling like a leaf, feeling the warmth of his cum inside you. 

When you finally collected yourself enough to see straight, you worked your wrists out of the now-loose binding of his tie, then raised your head to look at the man still lying on top of you. His head had dropped onto your chest, his eyes closed. He looked so still and gentle that you wondered if he was asleep.

You reached down, stroking his hair gently with shaking hands, remembering how much he’d liked it before. You wanted to have this little moment of vulnerability with him before he went all cold and ruthless again. He sighed, pressing himself further into your bare chest and wrapping his arms around you. You couldn’t hold back a smile as pride swelled inside you. You felt like you’d tamed some kind of monster, and really, you thought to yourself, you had. You could practically feel the bliss radiating off of him along with the warmth of his skin against yours. 

You leaned your head back, staring at the ceiling as you gathered yourself. You were sore all over. Your muscles burned from how tight they’d been for so long, your throat ached when you swallowed, and you still had a pounding headache from the punch to your face and the way he’d choked you. Your body had already begun to bruise, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

“It’s Kilgrave.” 

You looked up, vision still slightly clouded with pleasure. “Hmm?” His face was turned away, expression hidden. 

“My name. Kilgrave.” 

You grinned harder. You’d won.

“It’s pretty,” you giggled, giving his hair a playful ruffle. 

He quickly smacked your hand away, sitting up and pulling out of you with a scoff. Ah. There he was. 

“Shut up. Don’t even think about it.” 

“What?”

“You know what,” he snapped, reaching for his jacket. “Don’t play innocent now, especially not when you look like that.” 

You glanced down at your body. He had absolutely wrecked you, but your smile never faded as you looked back at him. 

He rolled his eyes, but there was no venom behind it, or at least none that you could detect. “Filthy little thing,” he muttered, re-buttoning his shirt. 

You sat up, stretching your sore muscles as he composed himself quickly. You were amazed at how he could go from looking absolutely delirious with pleasure one moment to looking like this the next, all put together and polished as if he hadn’t just fucked you into oblivion. 

“And where are you off to?” you said, glancing around the room, trying to find where he had tossed your clothes after you’d taken them off. 

“You don’t need to know that.” He walked quickly towards the door, but paused as he realized that you were still looking at him. He sighed with frustration, but still turned around to look back at you. 

“I’ll be back next week, if I decide you’re good enough for me to use again. In the meantime, don’t even think about opening your legs for anyone else, do you understand? I don’t want you catching anything and giving it to me.” His tone was bitter, but you could still sense something almost fond behind his words. “Now, once I leave, you’ll wait five minutes, then go out there and put on the best show of your life for all those sad desperate men out there, with my cum dripping down your thighs. Understand?” 

Ah, you realized. Not fondness. Possessiveness. Even better. You nodded, barely managing to suppress another proud grin. He gave you what you assumed was supposed to be a contemptful look before turning again to leave, but he might as well have given you a kiss on the forehead with how good it made you feel.

“Bye, Kilgrave,” you called as he left, giving him a playful wave. 

He looked back. He didn’t answer, but the facade slipped for just a moment as he blew you a quick kiss, and then he was gone, grinning like a man who had all the power in the world as he closed the door behind him. 

A/N: this is the first part of a series! if there's enough interest, i'll post the next parts :) Like, rb, and/or follow if you enjoyed, and thank you so much for reading!

[taurielofmirkwood77777]

[eternalplutoniangoddess]

Kilgrave x Siren!reader Headcanons

AN: I was thinking about him today, might write a fic ;)

-He has you lure his enemies/victims but gets enraged when he sees them get too "into it"

-Has you lull him to sleep at night

-If he has flashbacks of his childhood, he would ask you to soothe his thoughts away with your voice

-He is possessive of your voice and forbids you from singing without permission

-He won't hesitate to threaten your vocal cords if his control begins to wear off

-He wouldn't admit it but he grew fond of you.

-But if the time came when you were no longer his, he wouldn't cry too much if you become collateral

[bloody-slutty-pathetic]

Damn babygirl, you come here often?

[super-predictable98]

Smile, Simone (OC X Canon Kiss Week 2024)

Word count: 3,6k

Warning: manipulation, mention of death, Kilgrave being a creep

A/n: This is a collab with my partner in crime @jozstankovich for @theocxcanonweek day 5: Getting into trouble. The characters from this story are part of our little Timeline Anomaly Verse (more about them in here) and a crossover of Bad Samaritan and Jessica Jones. Hope you all enjoy it <3

[Masterlist]

Simone had a short walk from her university to the flat, only a few minutes, she stopped to buy herself a hot chocolate and a croissant for her father from his favorite bakery.

Little did she realize, across the street a tall, slender man in a chic purple suit watched her with interest, his dark eyes following her movements as a small grin played at his lips. As she stepped out of the bakery he approached. 

“Hello there,” he drawled, tipping his head slightly in greeting. “I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you are,” he murmured, taking her hand to place a kiss to the back of it.

"Um... thanks," Simone chuckled until she saw him. That face, she knew that face from her nightmares. A man with that face once tormented her father and she knew he died, but in that world full of clones and odd powers, she never knew who was what. "I- bye."

“Wait—“ the man exclaimed, a frown creasing the spot between his brows. “Don’t go,” he demanded, assured that she would obey.

She couldn't move, she tried to keep walking, but her feet wouldn't obey. "Let me go, please, I have a boyfriend."

The man chuckled. “Not anymore, you don’t,” he drawled, holding out his arm for her to take. “Let me take you out—?” he asked, waiting for her to supply her name.

"Simone, Simone Falco," she said before she could stop herself. His allure did something to her brain and suddenly she took his arm, certain that her boyfriend Dylan, wasn't in her life anymore.

“Mmm Simone,” he repeated, savouring the taste of her name on his tongue. “Your name is just as beautiful as you,” he purred, brushing his lips against her temple, inhaling her scent. 

“You can call me Kilgrave,” he said, slipping an arm around the small of her back as he began to lead her away from her intended destination. “I think we need to get you some new clothes and then some lunch. I know a wonderful place. You’ll love it,” he said with certainty.

"Y-yeah, I just... need to let my father know I won't come home now, he's expecting me. Can I call him?" She asked quietly, following him to God knows where to do something she didn't even wanna think about.

Kilgrave frowned as he deliberated. “I suppose that’s alright, darling,” he finally answered, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “But you’ll only say what I tell you to say,” he instructed. 

"Yes," she dialed, trusting that her dad would know something was wrong and check her location, which was always on. "What should I say?"

“Tell him, you’re staying with a friend for a few days, that you’ll be at a mind/body retreat and you won’t have access to your phone,” Kilgrave said, walking at a leisurely pace, leading her to his waiting town car.

Simone nodded and dialed her dad's number, but the person who picked up was her mother.  

"Hey, Moony. Daddy's in the shower, do you need anything?" Blossom asked.  

"Yes, can I talk to him please?" She kept her voice calm, or tried.  

"Okay... Sean! Simone is on the phone, she sounds dead weird!"

Sean frowned, quickly twisting the water off and grabbing his towel, wrapping it around his waist and taking the phone, bringing it to his ear. “Moony, it’s me. You okay, darlin’?” He asked, his hair dripping down his shoulders.

"Yeah, Daddy, I'm okay. I just called to let you know I won't be home in time," she put on a smile, trying very hard not to cry. "I'll be with a friend in a spiritual retreat and I won't be able to use my phone there for a few days. Just didn't want you to worry."

“What d’yeh mean? What friend?” Sean demanded, his unease growing. “Why don’t you come home and we can talk about this, you can give us more details,” he pleaded, not liking the way her voice trembled. “Where are you?” He asked, his chest growing tight.

"My friend... Ellery," Simone said the name of her cousin, this way he could easily call her and disprove this story. "Sorry, Daddy, I'm late, I really have to get going. I'm on my way there."

"Wait--! Simone!" Sean cried, but she'd already hung up. "Blossom! Something's wrong!" he called, trying to call Ellery, though his hands were shaking too much for him to dial the number. 

"Oh my God... what number are you trying to call? Ellery?" Blossom took the phone to dial for him. "What happened to Simone?"

"Yeah," Sean said, handing her the phone, running his hand through his wet curls. "You were right, she didn't sound right," he said. "She said she was going on a spiritual retreat with Ellery and wouldn't be able to answer her phone. She sounded scared. I think she was taken," he said, his voice shaking as much as his hands. 

"This is bollocks, she can't spend a day without her phone," Blossom called her niece. "Ellery! Ellery, are you with Simone right now?"  

"No," the girl answered, giving her twin brother a confused look. "Charlie and I are buying Valentine's presents." 

"Did she ever mention a spiritual retreat to you? Somewhere she couldn't take her phone to?"  

"No... is everything alright? Just stay there, we're on our way."  

*****

"Good girl," Kilgrave said, stroking Simone's hair before taking her phone from her hand and dropping it to the ground in the middle of the street before pulling her into the car with him and shutting the door, telling the driver where to take them.

"I- That's my phone!" She cried, she hated to be that helpless and now nobody would be able to track her. "All my father's voice-mails are there, I need them!"

"You don't need them," Kilgrave said offhandedly, annoyed at her outburst. "I'll make sure you have everything you need, love," he assured her, pulling her to his side, his hand running up and down her arm.

"What are you gonna do to me? You say buying clothes and having lunch. What are you really planning?" Simone asked, surprised that the driver seemed hypnotized as well.

"Darling, you're with me now," he said, chuckling lightly. "I just want to lavish you, make you mine," he explained, taking her chin in his hand to turn her face toward his to kiss her.

Simone tried to pull away, but she didn't know where to run, she was stuck in the car. "Have you ever considered... I don't know, asking someone out without forcing them? You're not bad looking, I'm sure many women would be happy to go out with you."

Kilgrave clicked his tongue with a shake of his head, as if the girl had just said something foolish. “But I don’t want just any woman. I want you. Are you saying that you would’ve said yes, if I’d have simply asked you?” He asked.

"Maybe... well not really. I had a boyfriend, and you look like the man who tried to kill my dad. But I'm sure a much more beautiful girl would've said yes," she mumbled.

“What do you mean, a more beautiful girl?” He drawled, frowning at her comment. “You are beautiful, Simone. More gorgeous than you realize. I want you to tell me that you’re beautiful,” he purred.

"I am beautiful," she repeated, unable to resist his order. It wasn't hard to understand he had the power of persuasion. 

"Good girl," Kilgrave murmured, stroking her cheek. "Ah, we're here," he said, as the car pulled up to the curb in front of Bloomingdale's.

*****

Sean hastily dried off, pulling his clothes on distractedly. "Should we call the police?" he asked, hating how helpless he felt. 

"We need to know where she is first and sending cops might spook whoever has her and they might hurt her," Blossom started dialing to call her sister-in-law, Alisha. "We're a superpowered family, we've all killed to protect each other."  

He nodded, feeling numb. He was the only one without a power, there wasn’t anything he could do at the moment except trust his wife. — 

"Alisha, we need a little help, can you find Simone for us?" Blossom asked while she opened the door for her niece and nephew.  

"I... she's in a car, there's a man with her. Purple suit, looks posh," Alisha said, using her clairvoyance to see through her niece's eyes. "I don't know exactly where they are though."  

“Okay, keep checking in and let us know if you recognize anything,” Sean said, leaning in over his wife’s shoulder.

"Okay, I'll call you if I see anything," Alisha confirmed.  

"We have all possible powers to save her," Ellery pulled her brother inside. "Where are we going?"  

"We don't know where she is yet," Sean answered, fighting the urge to pace. "Alisha said she's in a car right now." 

"In a car with a man she doesn't know," Blossom started crying just as her husband's phone started ringing. Sean pulled her into his arms, his jaw flexing as he fought not to break down as well, knowing he needed to be strong for her. "Does she know where Simone is?" he asked, his voice tense. 

"Hi, Aunt Lisha, any news?" Ellery quickly grabbed her uncle's phone.

"They just stopped at Bloomingdale's, I don't know which one exactly, but it looks like 5th Avenue, it's right in front of the Bank of America."  

"Bloomingdale's 5th Avenue, c'mon, let's go!" Charlie exclaimed, already heading for the door.

"We need a cab," Ellery stepped outside and rushed down the stairs. The rest of them followed and they all ran to the intersection with the 8th Avenue to hail a cab. The drive would be ten minutes if they were lucky to avoid traffic, which in New York was basically impossible.

“Hopefully they’ll still be there,” Charlie murmured, his leg bouncing anxiously.

*****

"Why do I need new clothes?" Simone asked calmly, almost in a docile way. "These are pretty expensive..."

"Why not?" Kilgrave said, waiting for the driver to open his door. "Come," he instructed, holding out his hand for her as he waited on the curb. 

"Do I need an excuse to spoil my girl?" he chuckled. "You deserve only the best," he explained.

"T-thank you," Simone took his hand and locked arms with him as they entered the store. She wasn't dressed exactly nicely and felt really out of place. She wore leggings and one of her dad's shirts since, at uni, they were doing nature shots.

“Ah, what about this? This colour would look beautiful on you,” Kilgrave said, picking out a sleek purple dress. “Go on, try it on, and I’ll pick out some shoes for you,” he said, stroking her cheek fondly.

"Okay," she took it and went into one of the dressing rooms. She wanted to cry, but feared that it would upset her new captor and he might do something worse. She put on the dress and opened the door to show him how it looked.

"Ohh, don't you look like a vision!" Kilgrave exclaimed, moving closer to get a better look. "Here, try these on, you'll look perfect," he said, handing her some strappy heels.

Simone nodded and quickly put the shoes on, which made her stand as tall as him. "I don't usually wear heels," she admitted.

"You should, they make your legs look so graceful," he said, picking out a luxurious long fur coat and draping it over her shoulders. "There, all set," he decided, taking her hand and leading her back out of the store. 

"Hey! You can't leave without paying for those!" One of the shopkeepers exclaimed, hurrying after them. 

"You're going to give them to us, free of charge," Kilgrave snapped, waving the woman away, leaving her bewildered. "Are you hungry?" he asked Simone, turning his attention back to her as they stepped back out onto the crowded sidewalk, his car waiting for them.

I'm wearing the skin of a dead animal on my back and I technically just stole all of this... Simone thought, panicked.  

"Yeah, I haven't eaten today," she said, despite how nauseous she was from the whole semi-kidnapping experience. She anxiously looked around to see if she could find any familiar faces, but the entire world felt like a strange place at that moment.

"There she is!" Sean cried, spotting his daughter's face amidst the sea of people. Jumping out of the cab before it came to a complete stop, he ran toward her, trying to push his way through the crowd. "Simone!" he exclaimed, trying to get her attention.

"Daddy?" She cried, the knot in her chest tightening when she saw how worried he seemed. She wanted to run into his arms and never let go.  

"Simone! Come here! What are you wearing?" Blossom followed her husband out. "You! Let go of my daughter right now! Get away from her!"

“Ah, looks like that’s our cue to leave,” Kilgrave muttered, turning Simone’s face away from her parents and stealing a sloppy kiss before sweeping her back into the back of his sleek black car. “Driver, take us to Neary’s,” he instructed, slamming the door shut and wiggling his fingers in a little wave just as Sean and Blossom reached the car.

Simone fought the urge to cry again, her head hanging low. She was so close to being able to run away... she knew she wasn't the first girl to fall into Kilgrave's trap, she wondered where the others were. Were they stuck in a harem or even worse?

"Did you see him? Cale Erendreich doppelganger... he kissed her! She didn't pull away, she didn't fight it," Blossom panted, she was not as fast as she used to be when she was younger. 

“There has to be an explanation,” Sean exclaimed, his chest hurting. He’d seen the fear on his daughter’s face as the car pulled away. 

“Uncle Sean! We know where he’s going!” Charlie exclaimed, running to catch up. “Aunt Lisha called. She knows where he’s taking her!”

"They're going to Neary's, five minutes away," Ellery hailed another cab for them. If it was just her and her brother they could run, but their uncle was pushing 60.  

"Let's go, let's go!" Blossom rushed into the car.

*****

“What’s the matter, dearest?” Kilgrave asked, tilting his head to peer at Simone’s face. “Don’t tell me you’re upset?”

"I just... got startled," she said shaking her head, she looked up at him and tried to smile.

He smiled back, giving her hand a squeeze before pressing a kiss to the back of it. The drive to the restaurant wasn't long and once they parked, Kilgrave helped Simone out, leading her into the building. 

"Do you have a reservation?" The hostess asked, looking between the two of them. 

"Yes, we're renting out the whole place. Tell everyone else to leave," Kilgrave commanded and the hostess nodded. 

"You can all leave!" He exclaimed, raising his voice to infect the other diners and they all got up, leaving their food half touched as they left. "There, shall we?" he asked, leading Simone over to his usual corner booth.

She sat down and glanced at the menu, the food smelled and sounded delicious, but how could she eat in that situation? She could always... accept it, she'd live her life like this and maybe it wouldn't be so bad? It wasn't what she wanted, but if he treated her the way she had been so far... maybe he wouldn't kill her. Maybe she could visit her family and smile while saying everything was fine.  

"Can I order what I want or will you order for me?" She asked, genuinely curious. "Cause if I can choose I'd like the broiled chicken with potatoes."

"Of course, you can have whatever you like," Kilgrave exclaimed, leaning back in the booth, his arm resting behind Simone's shoulders. 

By the time Sean, Blossom, Ellery, and Charlie arrived at the restaurant, the other diners were all filing out. 

"That's strange, where are they all going?" Charlie wondered.

"Doesn't seem like anything is wrong in there," Ellery looked inside and found her cousin sitting in a corner.  

"Simone!" Blossom called. "Simone, please! If you actually want to be here, tell us!"  

"I want to be here," she said after Kilgrave whispered the command in her ear.

“If you try to escape, you’ll jump off the Queensboro Bridge,” Kilgrave hissed in Simone’s ear, taking a bite of his steak, seemingly unbothered. 

“Look, he just said something to her before she spoke,” Charlie whispered, noticing the way the man leaned in. “If he has the power of persuasion, then maybe I can use it against him,” he suggested.

"Good one, Charlie," Ellery nudged her brother's arm.

"Let my daughter go, right now! I'm not above killing you, you bastard!" Blossom charged into the restaurant. "She's old enough to be your daughter!"  

Kilgrave spread his hands innocently. "I'm afraid you're mistaken, she told you already, she wants to be here." 

"Then why does she look so terrified?" Sean exclaimed, hating the way his hands shook as he looked at the man who looked so much like the ghost from his past. 

"I can't leave, Mum," Simone cried. "I just can't."  

"You can do anything, you have a superpower. You're really gonna let some middle-aged man tell you what you can or can't do?" Ellery whispered to her. "No matter what happens, you're safe." 

"Come on, let's call Dylan," Blossom took her daughter's hand, but once she got up, the girl ran away towards the bridge to fulfill Kilgrave's request.

“Simone?!” Sean exclaimed, his eyes widening in fear as she raced past him out the restaurant door. “SIMONE!” he called, taking off after her without another thought. 

While his uncle ran after Simone, Charlie rounded on Kilgrave. “What did you make her do?” He demanded. 

Kilgrave shrugged. “She was the one who chose to run. If she’d rather jump off the bridge than stay with me, that’s her prerogative, I suppose.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his aquiline nose. “And here I thought we could be happy together.”

"You're sick!" Ellery screamed while Blossom ran out to follow her daughter as well. "Man, you're not ugly enough to be that desperate, find someone who can love you for real."  

“Is that an offer?” Kilgrave asked, flashing Ellery a grin. "Seems beauty runs in the family..."

Before the man could control his twin, Charlie frowned, drawing on his own power. He could feel the vibration of Kilgrave’s power pulling at him and he reached out with his mind, borrowing his ability. 

“Hey,” he said, drawing the man’s attention. “Forget all about us. Forget about your power. Don’t use it for bad,” he commanded.

"Let's get out of here," Ellery took her brother's arm. "Hope he learns his lesson. He definitely knows how to treat a lady, he just needs to find one that wants to be with him."

Charlie nodded, letting his sister pull him out of the restaurant and they ran to join their uncle and aunt.

*****

"Simone!" Blossom ran, catching up to them just as she climbed to jump. She looked back at her mum and dad and smiled, her cousin's words made her very confident. 

“Moony, what’re you doing? Please come down!” Sean cried, his heart twisting in his chest as he held onto his wife. “We can fix this! Please don’t jump!”  

"Sean... it's alright," Blossom understood her plan, she had done it before with the power she passed down to her daughter. 

"See you in a second, don't worry about me," Simone waved and let go, falling as if she were diving into a pool. 

To stop herself from hitting the water, she covered her own body in a force field and emerged back to the bridge covered in a thin blue-ish bubble.  

As soon as Simone emerged, protected in her bubble, Sean let out a relieved gasp, his arms tightening around his wife. “Oh thank God she’s okay,” he cried, his eyes burning with unshed tears. 

Simone ran into her parents' arms and sighed. She didn't even realize she was still wearing the outfit that was picked out for her.  

"We should probably return these stuff to Bloomingdale's, right?" She asked. 

"But the dress is cute..." Ellery joked. "He won't be bothering you again."

"Yeah, I made sure of that," Charlie assured her, joining the others in embracing her. 

"Thank you, Cha-Charlie," Sean murmured, ruffling his nephew's curls. "I'm so fuckin' glad you all have those damn powers," he sighed, kissing the top of Simone's head.

"Thank you for coming for me," she looked lovingly at her cousins and her mother, then turned and placed a kiss on her father's cheek. "You're a hero too, Daddy."

Sean shook his head. "I was so helpless," he murmured, squeezing her tighter.

"Not all heroes have powers, some just are really amazing dads," she held his hand as they walked back to the store. "You weren't hopeless, you didn't give up. I called you because I knew you'd know something was wrong and come help, and you did."

"Of course, I'd never give up on you, darlin'," Sean breathed.

[thecrackshipdiaries]

David Tennant and Jennifer Morrison

Requested: Anon

[bitingmypawsoff]

My take on Noa x Mae

If you have watched the new planet of the apes movie, kingdom of the planet of the apes, you'll understand that the two main characters have a underlying tension between them. You'll understand that their relationship is complicated and still hasn't been completely developed. But you should also understand that we're talking about an animal and a human here.

Noa and Mae have a complicated relationship in the movie, but they just met. Noa has spent his entire life being told that humans are dangerous pests. But he is still able to find kindness and mercy to help and even somewhat befriend Mae. At the end of the movie you can tell that Noa doesn't know how to feel about Mae, he's still processing everything that had happened. Same as Mae, she doesn't understand if she hates apes or not. The tension you're seeing and feeling even is two different species struggling to learn to trust each other. It is NOT romantic nor sexual tension.

Some may argue that even if the tension they have isn't romantic or sexual that the shipping is harmless. It is not. Noa is an ape. He is an animal. Mae is a human. That is zoophilia. Noa is smart enough to understand that someone might want a relationship, and he is able to verbally consent, but he is still an animal. And if we're talking about anything sexual I'm pretty sure that Mae and Noa are teenagers, if not they're young adults.

I know that the ship is fictional, but would most of you not freak out if you saw someone shipping an adult man with a little girl? This is just as bad. Even though these characters are not real, it still doesn't excuse the fact that you think it's okay to ship a human and a animal. Just because it's fiction doesn't make it okay. Take Kilgrave from Jessica Jones as an example. That man is a fictional character who is a rapist, and manipulates and mind controls the main character and a few others to have sex with him against their will. Just because he's a fictional character doesn't make his actions okay.

This ship is gross, the people who ship it are gross, and I hope you understand how disgusting you are.

[canonrpfinder]

Hello everyone, hope you're all doing alright, folks! And thanks canonrpfinder to manage the account and to helping me to see when posts had been udpate, lol!

About me! I roleplay since ten years now, and currently doing it on discord! I write on 3rd person, and are pretty flexible when it comes to the lenght of our answers. I would just like to have a partner sending something I can work with, not just anyhting like "He kissed her." or those five words answers. I tend to like playing on a server for the two of us, with using tupperbox. I love OOC discussion, and eventually would be looking for someone who could answer regularly. I am also ready to double rp. To conclude this part, I wish that all people reaching me be over the age of majority! I like to have some erp parts in my rp, not just for the love of it (thought horny can be fun) but because I do romantic ships and think that erp can be beautiful when we write it good!

Anyways, about what I am really looking for right now! It will be about some fandoms of mine and ships in it, so buckle up and here we go!🕺

• MCU:

- Kate Bishop and Yelena Belova

- Loki and Brunhilde

- Wanda Maximoff and Strange

- Layla-El-Faouly and Arthur Harrow

- Layla-El-Faouly and Marc Spector

- Xu Xialing and Namor

- Jennifer Walters and Kingpin

- Kilgrave and Jessica Jones

- Kilgrave and Karen Page

- Kilgrave and Maria Hill

- Kilgrave and Black Widow

• Marvel Comics:

- America Chavez and Kate Bishop (Amerikate for the win!)

- Storm and Doom

- Sue Storm and Namor

- Kate Bishop and Laura Kinney

- Kate Bishop and Masque

- MJ and Osborn

• X-Men 97:

- Rogue and Magneto

- Jubilee and Sunspot

• DCU:

- Ratcatcher and Poison Ivy

• DC Comics:

- Dick Grayson and Barbara Gordon

- Raven and Beastboy

- Harper Row and Stephanie Brown

• Skins:

- Effy and Naomi

- Naomi and Cook

- Effy and Cook

- Naomi and Emily

• The Last of Us:

- Ellie and Dina

• Stranger Things:

- Nancy and Robin (Ronance for the win too!)

- Max and Robin

- Nancy and Steve

• Scott Pilgrim:

- Ramona and Gideon

- Ramona and Envy

- Ramona and Scott

- Ramona and Foxie

- Kim and Foxie

- Kim and Scott

• Drive Away Dolls:

- Jamie and Marian

• Locke and Key:

- Kinsey and Dodge

• Brooklyn 99

- Jake and Amy

Can't wait to have your news, like this and I will reach out for more talk about what we can rp on!

[ophelia-writes-fics]

please read!!

here are some rules/info for this blog to read before you follow!

firstly, please don't follow/interact if you're under 18! this blog is gonna be mostly smut if i'm being honest, so i'd rather people only follow if they're of age.

second, my requests are open! a quick list of fandoms and characters i write for is below.

the ones in bold are the characters i'll write nsfw content for! all characters are open for either platonic or sfw romantic requests, though.

(if you don't see a fandom or a character and you're curious, send me an ask! I mostly write character x reader, but I do certain ships as well. again, send an ask for specifics!)

bad samaritan (cale erendreich)

broadchurch (alec hardy, ellie miller)

doctor who (all doctors, donna noble, martha jones, rose tyler, amy pond, river song, the master/missy, bill potts)

good omens (aziraphale, crowley, beelzebub, anathema, muriel)

hannibal (hannibal lecter, margot verger)

jessica jones (kilgrave)

prodigal son (martin whitly)

takin’ over the asylum (campbell bain)

third, absolutely no terfs or radfems allowed. this blog is a safe and inclusive space for trans people and people of all genders.

thank you so much for reading, and i hope you enjoy!

[bellaxgiornata]

Life Worth Living [Chapter Five]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Original Female Character

[You can find the full summary and chapter list for this series here]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains fluff, angst, violence, PTSD, smut (Contains our beloved Defenders and lots of plot twists)

Word Count: 9.7k

a/n: This is a very long chapter and will forever be one of my favorite early chapters in this series. I love flirty Matty in this one and you should know that if I can work Matt and flirting over pool into a fic, I'm going to. You also finally get a bit of a glimpse at what Olivia can do... Anyway, feedback is always appreciated!

It was Saturday night, two nights after I’d run into Jessica and Trish. Jessica had texted me over the past couple of days, keeping me up to date on Hope’s case and her struggle to find witnesses. She'd also told me about the apology Trish had broadcast on Trish Talk yesterday morning, the day after challenging Kilgrave on air and he'd called in. 

I remember listening to the show, hearing his voice over the radio for the first time in years. I hadn't been able to fall asleep for more than an hour at a time the past few nights since. I'd barely eaten, too, having lost my appetite with his reappearance in my life. And because I'd been spiraling, I hadn't left my apartment in the past two days either, unconsciously avoiding Matt, Foggy, and Karen. Matt hadn't had any other night time check-ins; since I was barely sleeping I wasn't having nightmares. 

Currently I was sprawled out on my couch, staring at some awful sitcom, not exactly watching it. My eyes were burning and slightly bloodshot from the lack of sleep over the entire week. There was a half eaten slice of toast I had long since abandoned on a plate in the middle of my coffee table, which was a mess with dishes that had piled up. 

A rapid succession of hard knocks at my front door caused me to stiffen on the couch. My fingers gripped the cushions roughly as I held my breath. 

Did he find me already?

“Olivia! Where the hell have you disappeared the last few days!” Foggy’s boisterous voice called from the other side of my front door.

The tension slowly eased out of my muscles as I carefully sat up on the couch. I glanced down at the sweatpants and oversized black tee-shirt I was wearing and frowned. I looked a mess, but I didn’t have time to dress to answer the door for Foggy. With a huff I made my way to the front door where Foggy had taken up banging again.

I swung the door open to be greeted by Foggy’s beaming face–which immediately fell when he actually took in the sight of me.

“Holy shit, what happened to you?” he breathed out, eyes wide.

Karen suddenly appeared next to Foggy, Matt being pulled along beside her. Her eyes grew wide as well when she began scanning me up and down, her mouth parting a little in surprise.

“What’s wrong?” Matt asked quickly, voice full of concern.

“Jesus–you’ve got a bandage on your forehead and…shit, are those bruises on your neck?” Foggy gasped. “Did someone choke you?”

Matt’s jaw snapped shut instantly. From my place at the door I could see the muscles twitching as he ground his teeth. Karen eyed me with a sorrowful gaze, her focus lingering on my bruised neck for a few moments. I let out a sigh, rubbing a hand across my face. 

“I’m fine, just had a terrible past few days,” I assured them.

“But were you attacked?” Foggy pressed.

“Yes, but it was a…misunderstanding,” I explained.

Foggy’s eyes narrowed at my words; Karen raised a brow at me questioningly. Matt still remained clenching his jaw, his hands gripping his cane so hard his knuckles were turning as white as the object itself.

“How does someone attacking you turn out to be a misunderstanding?” Foggy shot at me.

I waved a dismissive hand quickly, as if I could wave away their worry. “Look, don’t worry about it. I’m fine, I’m handling it.”

“That certainly makes me feel better,” Foggy said sarcastically. “Did you go to the police?”

I raised a hand, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’m trying to. When I…can.”

“Why can’t you now?” he pried.

I took a deep breath, fighting back the frustration. I didn’t want to drag the three of them into this. They didn’t need to be on Kilgrave’s radar.

“Because the problem…requires evidence, which I imagine you can understand, being lawyers,” I told him. “And until I have that, I’m…dealing with it.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Matt said, his tone dark. “Whatever you’re doing, it doesn’t sound safe. You shouldn’t be dealing with it, especially not alone.”

“I’m not…I’m not alone,” I said slowly. “I have help. And I’m…” my voice trailed off, searching for the words. “I’m sort of the only one able to deal with this.”

“What does that even mean?” Foggy pushed. "You're being cryptic and it's scaring me."

I exhaled slowly, opting for a bit of the truth. 

"Some P.I. was looking for someone, someone I…used to know. They thought I might’ve had information, but I didn’t," I explained. "Now I'm sort of helping them. That's all."

Karen looked skeptical but remained quiet at my explanation. Matt’s jaw muscles had stopped ticking, but his head was tilted to the side and I could tell he was intensely focused on me behind his dark glasses when I felt that telltale prickle along my skin. It was Foggy who continued on.

"But the bruises?" 

"I was on a run, had my earbuds in. They grabbed me to talk, I freaked out and attacked them first," I explained with a shrug. "They were just trying to defend themselves too. Like I said–just a misunderstanding."

"Alright…" Foggy said slowly, not looking entirely convinced. 

"So uh…" I cleared my throat awkwardly. "Why is it that you're banging on my door after nine?"

"We were going to go to Josie's," Karen told me. "We thought you might want to come out."

"Planning to stay out until the sunrise?" I questioned them cautiously. 

"No," Karen said with a laugh. "I don't think Foggy could handle that again."

"Hey!" Foggy exclaimed, affronted. "I did just fine that night, thank you!"

I grinned at the pair before my eyes slid back and landed on Matt behind them. He was smiling but it almost looked forced. I hadn't spoken to him since the night he'd come over and then disappeared on me before I'd woken up. 

"Would you like to join us?" Matt asked slowly, one of his brows raising.

I glanced down to what I was wearing, a frown covering my face before I looked up, taking note of their clothes. Matt and Foggy were wearing button down shirts, ties, and dress pants with nice winter coats covering them. Karen was in yet another nice dress with a black pea coat, her face made up and her hair neatly pulled back in a bun. Meanwhile, I was pretty sure there was a smear of peanut butter somewhere on my shirt, a hole forming at the left ankle of my sweatpants, and my hair was a tousled mess.

"I'm sort of a mess right now…" I answered, voice trailing off.

Karen smiled wide, catching my eye. "We can wait, if you want to change."

"Yeah, we'd love for you to come out with us," Foggy assured me. “Josie’s is just a dive bar, you don’t need to get dressed up. We just had some office work for a new case we worked on today so,” he said, waving a hand at their attire, “we haven’t really changed.”

Clearing my throat, I stepped aside from the doorway. "I'll just change quick, if you want to wait inside?"

Foggy quickly rushed past; I could feel him surveying the state of my apartment without even seeing him. Karen slipped in past me, guiding Matt inside. His hand briefly brushed against my arm as he stepped past me and I wondered if it was intentional or not. Closing the door behind them, I followed Karen and Matt down the entry hall into the living room.

I shifted awkwardly as Foggy and Karen eyed the coffee table littered with empty water glasses and coffee mugs; the piece of lone peanut butter toast forgotten on the table. I quickly grabbed the plate, biting my lip awkwardly.

“Sorry, wasn’t planning on company,” I muttered as I rushed to empty the toast in the trash before tossing the dish in the sink. As I made my way through the living room, I briefly mumbled out, “I’ll just be a minute,” before darting down the hall and towards the bedroom.

Sliding the door closed behind me, I made my way to the dresser, grabbing the brush atop it and quickly combing through my long, blonde hair. It was a tangled disaster and I frowned as I tried to tame it, giving up when the waves wouldn’t straighten out. I made my way to my closet, opening the door and quickly selecting a pair of dark denim skinny jeans and an oversized, cream colored sweater. I slipped out of my sweatpants and tee-shirt, pulling up the jeans before slipping the sweater on. Stepping back towards my closet, I grabbed a black leather jacket and tugged my arms into it. Making my way back to my dresser, I quickly applied some mascara, a bit of concealer to cover the dark circles under my tired eyes, and a faint bit of perfume–for some reason I felt like I could still smell the traces of peanut butter which must’ve gotten into my hair.

I paused, placing the spray onto the dresser and eyeing my reflection. I didn’t look nearly as put together as Karen but definitely better than I had before. My eyes traveled down to my neck, the angry bruising looking a little bit lighter today. I lifted a hand, my fingertips gently tracing the bruises with a frown. I had no way to cover those and I refused to use my abilities to heal them–not that I could now anyway, considering I'd have to explain why they'd disappeared. With a sigh, I pulled some hair forward and tugged my jacket tighter around me. It was the best I could do. 

Exiting my room, I heard the sound of muffled voices. The three of them suddenly quieted when I appeared in the living room. 

“Maybe you should convince Matt to get a dog and you can share it,” Foggy said as he rose from the couch. 

My eyes narrowed playfully at Foggy as Karen giggled behind a hand.

“Are you implying I’m lonely, Nelson?” I asked him.

“Of course not…” Foggy answered, his tone not quite believable. "It certainly doesn't look like you've been in your apartment, alone, for days on end or anything…"

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how service dogs work, for starters,” I told him. “And also–I’m pretty sure I already said I’m partial to cats.”

“Then maybe you should get a cat,” Foggy urged. 

“Thinking I should get a head start on being the lonely cat lady already?” I teased him, leading the group towards the front door.

“Oh, well, no–that’s not what I meant,” Foggy fumbled.

I laughed lightly, opening the front door and stepping aside so the three could exit. This time Foggy was leading Matt instead of Karen, who muttered a ‘thank you’ as she passed by.

“I’m just teasing, relax,” I told Foggy, locking the door behind me as I exited. “Besides, I’ve already considered getting a cat. Just haven’t exactly gotten around to it.”

“Maybe you should,” he continued. “I hear they lower stress levels.”

I rolled my eyes, jamming my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket as we stopped in front of the elevator doors.

“Alright, I’m feeling personally attacked now,” I joked. “Can we focus the topic of discussion to something other than me? You said you guys had a new client?”

“Oh! Right, yeah, that guy who came in that morning you were at the office,” Foggy said, perking up. “Can’t really go into details because, you know, client confidentiality and all. But we got a case! A paying one.”

I smiled, watching as the elevator doors flew open and stepping inside behind the group. I found myself suddenly beside Matt, who had dropped Foggy’s arm now.

“That’s great, really,” I told them.

“That reminds me, Karen,” Foggy said, turning his attention to her. “I wanted to ask you about that file from earlier.”

My gaze darted down to my feet as Foggy started discussing some case-related files with Karen. For a moment I wondered if going out to a bar with them was really the best idea, but then I quickly scolded myself. I couldn’t stay inside my apartment hiding forever. Besides, I wouldn’t be alone and tonight should hopefully be fun. And, if I was being honest with myself, I missed all three of them.

A hand gently squeezed my shoulder and I jumped, eyes darting upwards. Matt was looking in my direction, his brows raised just above his dark glasses. I noticed the elevator had reached the lobby, Karen and Foggy holding the doors as they continued their deep discussion.

“You alright?” Matt asked me quietly.

“Yeah, I uhm…yeah,” I said, shaking my head. “Just spaced out for a moment.” 

The left side of Matt’s lip curled up at me, his brows lowering. “You mind if I walk with you? I think those two are in the middle of some very boring office talk, and I’ve sort of had enough of that for one Saturday.”

Nervously I shoved a few strands of hair behind my ear, nodding. Immediately realizing he couldn’t see the gesture, I smiled sheepishly and answered, “Yes.”

His warm hand slid from off my shoulder, slipping underneath my arm until he could firmly hold onto my bicep. I fought the shiver that ran down my spine, chewing my lip anxiously as I led him out of the elevator, his cane tapping along the floor as we moved. 

“How far is the bar?” I asked curiously, trying to combat the silence as we made our way through the lobby behind Foggy and Karen.

“About a block and a half,” Matt told me. “Not far.”

When we stepped outside, the cold chill of the night immediately bit at my face and I unconsciously leant into Matt. 

“Cold?” Matt asked me.

My heart sped up at the sudden closeness of his lips to my ear, his warm breath brushing against my skin. I swallowed hard.

“Yeah, just a little,” I answered. 

Without hesitation, he removed his hand from its place around my bicep, instead wrapping it around my waist and pulling me in towards him as we walked. I could feel the hard muscles of his chest against my side now; the warmth of his body seeping through my leather jacket. I could smell the scent of cedar and clove again, something I hadn’t realized I’d missed until just this moment. The feeling that often arose in my stomach around Matt suddenly reared its head, causing my breath to catch briefly on my next inhale.

Matt’s nose brushed against my temple, his lips lightly grazing my ear as he leant in beside me, whispering, “Is this okay?”

I blinked hard, clenching my hands tightly into fists in my jacket pockets. For the briefest moment, I almost stopped on the sidewalk, overcome with a strong urge to grab him by the coat and pull his lips to my own. Immediately I pushed the thought away.

“Yes, but,” I answered, voice weak. I tried to calm down before continuing. “Isn’t this harder for me to help guide you?”

A very light chuckle warmed the side of my face from his breath. His mouth was back near my ear again, lightly skimming his lips against the sensitive part of it as he spoke.

“I know these streets very well,” he assured me. His voice was deep, almost a whisper; a conversation just between us as Karen and Foggy were forgotten ahead of us on the sidewalk. “I’ll be fine.” 

There was a beat of silence between us, my mind entirely focused on the feel of Matt’s nose lightly brushing against the top of my head.

“You smell nice,” Matt muttered.

A snort escaped me at his compliment before I shot him a look. He was smiling in my direction, his eyes crinkling at the corners. I very badly wanted to rip those glasses off of his face to see him better.

“What?” he asked curiously, a smile lingering.

“I’m pretty sure there’s peanut butter somewhere in my hair,” I said with a chuckle, my cheeks burning in slight embarrassment.

Matt’s nose nuzzled against the top of my hair for a moment again. My eyes fluttered closed at the gesture; it wasn’t one I’d experienced before–something so sweet and affectionate–and neither were the butterflies that suddenly broke loose in my stomach.

“There’s definitely peanut butter in your hair,” he agreed, his tone teasing.

I laughed lightly along with him, rolling my eyes. “Great. Well, I’m glad you enjoy it. Is it making you hungry?”

“Maybe…” he said, his voice barely audible.

Something about the way he said the word caused a warmth to suddenly erupt low inside of me. I stiffened as I felt Matt’s hand suddenly tighten against my waist. He cleared his throat before speaking again, but I noticed a slight waver in his tone as he did.

“You smell like coffee though,” he murmured. “And a mix of something citrus and floral. Mandarin?” he questioned lightly, brushing his nose against the top of my head again. “And…hibiscus?”

I expelled a breathy laugh, feeling a little lightheaded from this conversation. “You’re good,” I whispered back. “Clearly you know your scents.”

Matt hummed in response, a slight grin permanently fixed on his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but was quickly cut off by Foggy.

“Welcome to Josie’s!” he exclaimed, gesturing dramatically at the entrance to the bar.

Breaking out of the private bubble Matt and I had been in, I glanced up. There was a red neon sign on the front window, displaying the name of the bar. The sound of old rock music was drifting out onto the sidewalk. 

Foggy held the door open for Karen to pass through, and then gestured for Matt and myself. Matt’s hand slid from around my waist and back up to my bicep, his warm hand curling around it as I led him inside. I followed behind Karen to the bar, Foggy coming in behind us. 

The bar was indeed a dive bar; it was dimly lit with neon signs and a few strings of lights around the ceiling. The walls were a dark wood paneling reminiscent of the seventies and there were a few old gambling game machines placed precariously about. A lone pool table sat vacant near the front window with the neon sign. I was surprised to see there were a handful of people here; it wasn’t crowded but it certainly wasn’t empty. 

I rested my arms against the bar top beside Karen, feeling a pang of sadness as Matt released his grip on my arm. Foggy was gaining the attention of Josie behind the bar to order drinks as I continued to survey the room. 

The three immediately ordered beers when Josie finally appeared. As she started placing the bottles on the bar, the older woman now stared at me expectantly.

“Oh, uh, water please,” I ordered.

“No!” Foggy and Matt both shouted in unison.

I jumped at their unexpected reaction, my eyes widening. Karen only giggled beside me, shaking her head.

“You do not drink the water at Josie’s,” Foggy warned me dramatically. “There’s something wrong with the pipes. You can… see the bacteria and rust in it.”

“That’s why we always order our drinks neat,” Matt added.

“Alright then…”I said slowly, turning back to the expectant Josie as she rested both hands on the bar. “Just a coke, then.”

“No ice!” Foggy tacked on.

I shook my head, laughing, as we threw some cash on the sticky bar counter.

“Not drinking tonight?” Karen asked me curiously as we waited for my coke.

“I don’t drink,” I admitted. “I prefer to be in full control of my…mental faculties.”

"Not a problem!" Foggy exclaimed, clapping a hand on my shoulder. 

I thanked Josie as she placed my drink on the counter a moment later. My eyes wandered up to the television behind the bar. Despite the muted voices I could see they were talking about the man in the mask, an enlarged, grainy cellphone image of him on the screen. Karen followed my gaze, her eyes landing on the news.

"What’s your take on him?" she asked me curiously.

I shrugged in response, watching as she took a pull from the beer she'd ordered. She shot me a look, shaking her head.

"No, you've been here for a couple weeks now," she pushed. "You've had to have heard about him. Seen the news. Form some sort of an opinion."

"The mysterious Devil of Hell's Kitchen," Foggy said, whispering the vigilante's name. "Now I'm of the opinion we shouldn't let people go around punching criminals–that's illegal and all. But Karen thinks he's a hero."

I glanced at Karen, watching as she pushed some hair behind her ear and stared down at the beer bottle in her hands. Her fingers were peeling the label on the bottle absently.

"He did save my life once," she told me. "And he's been going after only criminals. Not killing anyone." She shrugged. "I think he's doing good."

My attention turned to Matt who was quietly taking a drink from his bottle, his eyes shielded by his glasses. He was leaning against the bar towards us, but he was facing the rest of the bar and the patrons in it. Foggy followed my gaze and threw his arm around Matt, causing his attention to return to our group.

"Matt here claims to not pay attention enough to form an opinion," Foggy told me, shaking Matt a little by the shoulders.

I quirked a brow at him curiously as I took a sip of my drink. "You've lived here longer than me, and you want me to believe you don't have an opinion?" I asked him curiously.

Matt sent me a charming smile as he said, "As a lawyer, I don't condone criminal acts. But he also saved one of our friends, so," he shrugged. "I don't have an answer."

"So what about you?" Karen asked, nudging me curiously. "What's your take?"

My eyes focused on my glass on the bar in front of me. "Honestly, I haven't given it much thought, but," I admitted, noticing the way Matt leaned forward in interest as I spoke, tongue darting out to wet his lips, "I've seen some of the footage they've shared of him on the news. You can't exactly deny that he's…skilled." I winced as Kilgrave’s face came to mind. "There's definitely worse things he could be doing instead of helping the people of Hell's Kitchen."

"So you approve of what he's doing?" Karen pushed.

I shrugged slowly before taking a drink of my coke. "Sure, I guess. At least he's not hurting innocent people."

"You know what? The pool table is open," Foggy said, pointing his beer bottle at the table. "Let's go play a game. We can do teams." He turned to me with a smile and a wink. "I'll be nice and take pity on you and give you Matt."

My brow rose questioningly at his words and the way Karen hid a laugh behind her hand. " Give me Matt?" I asked him.

Matt scoffed, a faux look of offense crossing his face. "I'm a human being, Foggy, you can't just give me away to people."

Foggy grabbed Matt by the arm, leading him toward the pool table. I pushed off the bar beside Karen, eyeing her curiously. She leant in beside me and whispered, "Matt is actually really good at pool."

"Buddy, I'm giving you an in to play with the girl you clearly like," Foggy pointed out matter-of-factly.

My cheeks flamed at his words and I ducked my head, biting my lip. Karen bumped my arm, catching my gaze. She sent me a questioning look, eyebrows raised. She tilted her head towards Matt and then back at me, an expectant look on her face. I chewed the lip caught between my teeth, eyes slightly wide at her silent question. Very slowly I shrugged in answer, shooting her a sheepish look. Her mouth twisted slowly into a knowing smile. Matt and Foggy carried on, entirely unaware of the exchange that just took place.

"Well when you put it like that," Matt countered with a low chuckle. 

"Plus I figure Olivia could use the help," he added. A smirk crossed his face as the pair reached the pool table. "Though I suppose that means you can't pretend you need so much help as you usually would."

Matt’s lip curled into a mischievous smile as he turned towards Karen and I. "I still need help finding the cue ball," he pointed out.

I set my drink on the table next to the pool table; Karen shrugged out of her coat and I followed suit. My brow furrowed as a thought hit me and I turned towards Foggy who was helping Matt out of his coat before taking off his own. 

"Wait, you think I'm bad at pool?" I asked him. 

Foggy hesitated before he placed the coats at the table Karen and I had claimed. A frown crossed his face as he eyed me curiously. 

"You're…not?" he asked tentatively.

I smirked at him before shaking my head, heading towards the rack of pool cues and grabbing two.

"I lived in Anchorage for a few years," I explained, turning back to face our little group. "The main social activity was going to bars–to play pool and throw darts." I waved a hand at the bar around us. "This is my element, Nelson."

"Aww, damn it!" Foggy whined.

I laughed, crossing over to Matt and swapping out his beer for the pool cue.

"You're going down, Nelson," I threatened playfully. 

"Go easy on me, I'm just a poor lawyer," Foggy joked.

"Consider it payback for the comment about me being lonely and needing a pet," I teased back. 

"Ohhh," Karen said, rubbing her hands together as she headed towards the cue rack, "Maybe we should make a bet."

Foggy grunted, rounding on Karen. "Did you not just hear the poor lawyer part?"

"What's your bet, Karen?" Matt asked her, ignoring Foggy.

She chewed her lip and let out a thoughtful hum before a large grin appeared on her face, her eyes landing mischievously on me. My eyes immediately narrowed in response. 

"Losers buy the next round," Karen answered slowly, her eyes still reflecting a playful glint as they continued to match my guarded ones, "and winners…kiss."

My mouth dropped as I gaped at Karen. She just giggled in response, feigning innocence. Foggy offered Karen a high five, which she enthusiastically returned.

"Those sound like good terms," Matt responded with a grin. "I accept."

I held up a hand quickly. "Okay, explain to me why there's a stipulation on the winners?"

She shrugged casually, grabbing her beer from off the table and bringing the bottle to her lips. "To make things more interesting," she answered innocently before taking a drink.

Foggy stepped forward, holding his hand out towards me. "Do you accept the terms?"

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head as I reached out and shook his hand. "Fine," I muttered.

"Let the record state Olivia shook on it!" Foggy declared to the bar as Karen laughed. His attention returned to me as he released my hand. "Now you either win and kiss my handsome friend there, or intentionally try to lose and wound him deeply, madam." 

I laughed awkwardly, unable to hide my amusement and nervousness at Foggy’s playful bluntness. 

"And I would be so deeply wounded," Matt agreed beside me, his face serious as I glanced at him. But then slowly his mouth tugged up at the corner, a devilish smirk took its place on his face. I couldn’t help but stare at his lips as he whispered, "I promise I won't bite." He reached up, sliding his dark glasses slightly down his nose just enough to shoot me a wink before he slid them back up.

I swallowed hard, glancing away and avoiding whatever look Karen was surely shooting my way. 

"How about you and Karen break," I offered, trying to keep my voice steady. "Give you both a fighting chance."

Foggy racked up, adjusting the balls in their appropriate places before sliding them to center and removing the rack. He waved a hand towards Karen suavely, bowing his head a little as he did.

"Ladies first," he said.

Karen bowed good-naturedly in response. "Thank you, sir," she responded before making her way to the front of the pool table.

Holding my cue between both hands, I watched as Karen lined up her shot as she bent over the pool table. Carefully, she slid the cue back before quickly snapping it forward. The cue ball barreled forward and knocked into the balls with a crack , sending the balls scattering around the table. The solid purple four sunk in the back corner pocket as she righted. 

Matt leaned close to me, whispering, "Was it a good break? I heard something go in."

Keeping my eyes on Karen as she moved around the table, looking to take her next shot, I answered, "Pretty decent break. She pocketed one; we're stripes."

"That's good," he whispered back. "Stripes are lucky for me."

I watched as Karen almost got another ball in the pocket, just missing by an inch. Turning my attention on Matt, I asked, "Why does that feel like it's just a line?"

He only grinned back.

"Alright love birds," Foggy teased. "You're up."

I huffed at his comment, rolling my eyes as Matt let out a breathy chuckle. He cocked his head and gestured towards the table.

"Ladies first, right?" he asked smoothly.

"If you insist."

I left his side, making my way around the pool table and pausing in front of the white cue ball. Lightly tapping a finger against the cue in my hands, I surveyed my options for a moment. Eventually I leaned over the table, lining up my shot and finding the right angle to hit the ball. I sucked in a breath as I pulled the cue back between my fingers, releasing it at the same time I released the cue. The white ball flew across the table and knocked into the solid Karen had just knocked near the side pocket, pushing it further away now. The cue ball bounced back against the bumper before flying across to the other side of the table, slapping into the solid green six which in turn sunk the striped blue ten into the pocket.

As I strolled across the side of the table to take my next shot, I caught Foggy’s wide mouthed stare and Karen's surprise.

"How'd she do?" Matt asked his friends.

"I think it's safe to say she knows what she's doing," Karen responded. 

I smirked as I leant over the table again, aiming the cue ball and knocking it easily into another striped. It slid right into the pocket as I sauntered over to the cue ball again.

"You guys are going to annihilate us," Foggy groaned. "How much time did you spend playing pool at the bars in Anchorage?" he called over to me.

I hit the cue ball, watching as it rolled its way across the table and sunk another stripe before I glanced up at Foggy with a smug smile.

"Well I don't drink, so… a lot?" I mused aloud. "But I'll show some mercy," I joked as I took another shot, intentionally leaving the cue ball in an awkward position for Foggy.

“Thank God for small mercies,” he mumbled sarcastically as we passed by each other.

I grinned, grabbing my coke from off of the table and finishing it. Foggy took his time lining up his shots, managing to land a tricky shot and sinking a ball, but missing on his next turn. 

“Your turn buddy,” Foggy told Matt as he took his place beside Karen.

I stepped away from the table, crossing the two short strides to stand beside Matt. Gingerly I grabbed his forearm as I told him that the cue ball was on the opposite side of the table. As we passed by Karen and Foggy, I swore I heard Foggy lean in to Matt and whisper a “you’re welcome” as Karen giggled.

I stopped in front of the end of the table, Matt pausing beside me. “So,” I told him, sliding my hand down his forearm to catch the back of his free hand in mine, gently guiding it forward onto the table towards the white ball, “the cue ball is right here.” I paused as I held his hand against the ball, noticing how his head tilted close to me, his brows furrowing in thought as he paid close attention to my voice. “It’s about six inches to the left of the back middle pocket; about a foot from the back bumper. You’ve got a pretty clear shot at your ten o’clock to sink the eleven in the middle left pocket.” My eyes darted around the table, taking in other options.

“Or?” he asked softly, slowly leaning over the table and readying his cue.

Tentatively, I guided him along the table, one hand on his with the cue, the other on his waist as I turned him just a fraction. 

“Or,” I told him, not entirely sure how good he was at pool, “If you hit the cue ball to your four o’clock, hard enough to bounce the bumper, there’s another striped perfectly lined up with the back left corner pocket near us.”

“Hmm,” Matt hummed in thought. “Thank you.”

My hands slowly slid off of him and I took a couple of steps back, crossing my arms across my chest and studying him curiously. His head tilted in a few different directions around the table for a moment before he leaned further over lining up his shot. It was at that moment I realized I had the perfect view of his ass and I tried–I really tried–not to check him out but my eyes dipped down for one appreciative moment. When I glanced up, I saw Karen smirking at me from across the pool table. I raised a hand, trying to cover the silent laugh that escaped me. The movement caught Foggy’s attention and he momentarily sent me a questioning look, to which I shook my head in response to. Karen bit her lip, trying to fight back her own laugh. The sound of Matt hitting the ball broke the moment and I glanced down at the table, watching as the balls scattered. He’d chosen the more complicated shot and succeeded. 

“Good shot,” I praised him, slightly impressed as I made my way back beside him.

He turned his face towards me, grinning wide. “Maybe I just really want to win.”

“Flirt,” I teased him back as I guided him by his forearm towards the cue ball again. 

“Is it working?” he asked me curiously.

I grabbed the back of his hand again, guiding it towards the cue ball as I reminded him, “I don’t date flirts. Cue ball is here, just in front of the back left pocket.” His hand touched the ball as I leaned in just over his shoulder, eyeing the potential shots. “You’ve got a good shot at another stripe, directly across the table in the corner right pocket. The ball is about…” I paused, gauging the distance, “four inches to the left of the pocket.”

“Easy,” Matt mumbled.

Again, I let go of him and stepped back, watching once again as he appeared to take in the table despite his lack of sight. Then he lined up his shot for a moment and sunk the ball. Matt stood up, smiling.

“Did that go in, Foggy?” Matt joked. “I couldn’t see.”

I giggled as Foggy exasperatedly rolled his eyes at his friend. “Yes, Matt,” Foggy answered in a deadpan. “You know it damn well did.”

I led Matt all the way to the other side of the table where the cue ball now sat, once again guiding his hand to the ball and directing him to where the last stripe sat and the obstacles in his way before I left him to take his shot. Honestly, I didn’t expect that he’d be able to make it–that shot would be tricky even to me. But my mouth dropped in shock when I watched him hit the ball and it jumped over a solid, smacked into a bumper, and then rolled into the final stripe, pocketing it.

“Should we get drink orders ready?” Foggy joked. “Seems like we lost already.”

Karen laughed, playfully swatting Foggy’s arm. Matt turned towards me, a wide grin still spread across his handsome face.

“What do you think, should I give them a chance?” Matt teased.

I snickered at his question, stepping towards him to guide him yet again to the cue ball.

“That’s on you,” I answered simply.

I lined him up and directed him to where the eight ball now sat on the table. It wasn’t a remotely difficult shot at all. When I laid out the table for him, he paused for a moment in thought as I stepped back.

“Eight ball, right corner pocket,” Matt called out.

I saw Foggy roll his eyes as Karen sent me a quick wink, downing the rest of her beer. I blushed, focusing back on the game. Matt hit the ball and it easily rolled across the table, knocking the eight ball into the right corner pocket. 

“Alright!” Foggy exclaimed, clapping his hands as Matt turned around from the table. “Another beer for you and another coke for the lady?” 

“Sure,” Matt agreed, his focus in my general direction now.

I swallowed hard, glancing at Foggy and nodding quietly. Karen waggled her brows at me before linking her arm around Foggy’s.

“We’ll be at the bar, grabbing the next round,” Karen told us, tugging on Foggy’s arm.

As they began walking away, Foggy called back, “Remind me to never put you two on a team together!”

I chuckled as I watched them retreat to the bar, sliding past a few patrons as they went. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Matt said, appearing in front of me now, “but we did just win, correct?”

I smiled, eyes darting up to the bar ceiling. 

“Yes.”

“And the bet was that the losers had to buy the next round, correct?” he asked next.

My eyes slid down towards my hands, which were now playing with the hem of my sweater. 

“Yes.”

“So Foggy and Karen are off fulfilling their end of the bet, but–correct me if I’m wrong here,” he said again, holding up a hand and looking very serious, “but wasn’t there another part of that bet? For the winners?”

Slowly my gaze shifted up towards Matt, his serious expression fighting to remain on his face. 

“...yes.”

He raised a hand to his chin, rubbing against the stubble there as if deep in thought.

“Something about…” he made a face as if trying to remember, “the winners kissing?”

I rolled my eyes, not even bothering to fight the grin on my face anymore. 

“Yes.”

His lips twisted into a matching grin, his tongue darting out against them for a moment. My eyes followed the movement.

“And you did agree to it, right?” he teased.

I chuckled, shaking my head.

“Yes, Matt.”

He took a step closer towards me, leaning in and whispering, “I just wanted to check.”

His hand rose, his fingertips grazing my jaw before he slid it further up, cupping my cheek lightly. My breath caught in my throat as he leaned closer, using his hand to tilt my face up towards him as his other hand suddenly gripped my waist, drawing me closer. Instinctively my hands flew up, resting against his solid chest to brace myself at the movement. The rough pad of his thumb briefly swiped over my cheekbone, caressing it a few times as I swallowed hard, eyes slowly drifting closed. My heart was pounding in my chest and I was almost positive Matt could hear it with how close he was to me.

It was another moment before his lips brushed lightly against mine for the briefest second and I unconsciously found my own tilting up to chase after his. A single huff of amusement left him at the gesture before he closed the distance, bringing his mouth to mine. His lips were warm and surprisingly soft against my own, which stood in contrast to the pleasurable rasp of his stubble against my skin. The hand on my cheek carefully made its way down, gingerly sliding down my chin and towards the back of my neck as he drew me in closer, our lips still working against each other slow and sweet. With a mind of its own, my right hand slid the rest of its way up his chest to wrap against the back of his neck, fingernails lightly raking against the bare skin there. The hand at my waist gripped tight in response, his fingers pushing into the fabric of my sweater. 

After another moment he pulled away, leaning his forehead lightly against mine. I struggled to even my breathing, a heat igniting within me at the absence of his lips. I wanted more; more of his mouth, more of his skin, more of his body against mine. It was an ache I’d never felt before. But as my eyes fluttered open and were met with my own reflection in his dark glasses–which I so desperately wanted to rip off of his face yet again–I recalled where we were and why we’d kissed in the first place.

My hands immediately released the grip they’d had on him as I anxiously stepped back. In turn, Matt’s hands slid from their place against my waist and my neck, our foreheads pulling apart at the distance. I swallowed hard a few times, trying to collect myself as I blinked rapidly. When I glanced up at Matt, his breathing was a bit uneven as well but I noticed him shoot me a small, almost sad, smile. The expression confused me, causing my brows to crease together, but before I could say anything, we were interrupted by Foggy and Karen returning.

“Alright, so this round,” Foggy said as he handed Matt a fresh beer, “it’s guys against gals.”

Matt’s expression quickly recovered at the sound of Foggy’s voice, and he raised the beer to his lips before saying, “Sounds like it’d be a bit more fair.”

I found myself staring curiously after Matt for another moment, trying to decipher the look on his face, before Karen appeared beside me, holding out a full coke with a soft smile on her face. I shook my head, snapping out of my thoughts and shooting her a smile.

“Thanks,” I told her, accepting the drink. “Wanna wipe the cocky smiles off their faces?”

“ Always ,” Karen answered with a grin.

The next game began with many taunts and playful name-calling before we’d eased into other topics of conversation. It was unexpected when I was taking my shot that Karen brought up a new topic.

“Did any of you listen to the last few episodes of Trish Talk?” 

I paused, my body freezing as I was trying to line up a shot.

“Yes,” Foggy answered immediately.

Matt shook his head. “No, I don’t generally take an interest in that show,” he admitted.

Foggy quickly cleared his throat. “Yeah, I mean. I was just listening in to that case she was talking about on there the other day. It was interesting, you know, from a lawyer’s perspective.”

“What case?” Matt asked curiously.

I had been lining up my shot again when Karen answered.

“Hope Shlottman? The girl who claims some guy named…Kilgrave? Mind controlled her to kill her parents,” she told him.

My hand slipped as I took the shot, his name causing my hands to immediately slick over with sweat. The cue ball barely rolled along the table not hitting a single ball. I swore I saw Matt’s head turn towards the pool table at my fumble.

“I can’t believe Hogarth took on that case,” Foggy said. “It still baffles me.”

“Why?” I asked, trying not to sound too curious as I made my way back over towards the group.

“Because she only takes winners,” Matt answered. “Cases that are a guaranteed win. Ones to make her firm look good.”

“And this one,” Foggy continued, “is…just strange. There’s video footage of her… committing the crime ,” he said, unable to say the word ‘murder.’ “And then she wants to…what, maybe plead insanity? I guess? Because she can’t really be intending to argue some man mind-controlled her to do it.”

I cleared my throat, trying to sound casual. “How would one even go about doing that, assuming, you know, someone did do that?”

Foggy sent me a weird look as Matt’s brows rose behind his dark glasses. I cleared my throat again, awkwardly this time, as the weight of their expressions lingered on me.

“I mean, hypothetically, of course,” I continued quickly. “I’m just curious. Since you guys are, you know, lawyers.”

“Well…” Foggy started, pausing as he thought, staring down at the beer in his hands. The pool game was long forgotten now. “I suppose witness testimonies would help. But like… a lot of them. Better if they were from reputable people.”

“What about…a recording? Of the man using his ability?” I asked.

Matt’s brows furrowed at my question as his head tilted further towards me, but he remained silent as Foggy answered. I could practically feel his intense focus on me, the hairs prickling along the back of my neck.

“You’d probably need reputable witnesses at the taping. The more the merrier,” he told me, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Because someone could always doctor a tape to make it look like he could mind control people. So you’d need to make it credible. Hypothetically, of course.”

“Yeah,” I said, swallowing thickly. “Hypothetically.”

“But it was a weird episode,” Foggy continued. “Trish doesn’t usually talk about that sort of stuff, and she sounded like she believed it. Especially when she apologized the following day on her show to the man. As if he actually exists.” “That’s what I thought was weird,” Karen agreed. "Why would she apologize? Unless he…does exist. Maybe threatened her…"

I downed the rest of my coke swiftly, setting the glass on the table beside me. My hands were shaking and I tried to still the movement by gripping the soft fabric of my sweater.

"You feeling alright, Olivia?" Matt asked me curiously.

My head spun towards Matt, wiping my sweating palms against my jeans now. I forced a smile on my face though I was sure Foggy and Karen could see how tense it was.

"Yeah," I answered him quickly, voice a little high. I cleared my throat before adding on, "I'm just going to find the restroom."

"I'll come with you," Karen offered abruptly, setting her drink onto the table. She grabbed my arm and led me forward. "I'll show you where it's at."

Karen led us through the bar towards the back, where there was a sign for the bathrooms. We entered the women's restroom and I bolted for an empty stall. I used the bathroom, lingering for a moment to compose myself, before heading out and washing my hands. I could feel Karen’s eyes on me as she dried off her hands on a paper towel.

"How was it?" she finally asked me.

I glanced up at her, our eyes meeting through the dirty mirror. My breath caught in my throat–did she know?

"How was what?" I asked her.

She rolled her eyes, ripping off a sheet of paper towel and crossing the bathroom towards me, holding it out to me. 

"The kiss?" she prompted.

I grabbed the paper towel from her, drying my hands off. I released a breath, my shoulders relaxing. A flush crept over my cheeks as I remembered the way his hand had cupped my cheek, his thumb gently caressing my skin; the strength of his chest underneath my hands, all hard muscle. I could still remember the feel of his soft lips moving so slowly against my own, the faint taste of him that had lingered for a brief moment after. My jaw clenched as I recalled the warmth of the bare skin on his neck under my fingers and the way his grip tightened on my waist when my nails had lightly dragged across the back of his neck.

"That good, huh?" Karen asked when I didn't answer.

I laughed nervously, her voice pulling me back to the present. Tossing the paper towel into the garbage can, I nervously tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

"It was…" I paused, exhaling slowly. "Yeah, it was good," I confessed. "Especially considering it wasn't, you know, an actual kiss."

Karen’s brows raised. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, it's because it was part of the bet," I told her. "For the game. Not like…it was supposed to mean something. I'm sure he does that all the time."

She frowned instantly, shaking her head with a sigh. "Foggy must have gotten into your head," Karen said. "I know I haven't known them for too long, but Matt has mentioned you a few times. I know he's asked Foggy about you, too, because he's told me. Matt's definitely interested, but he thinks you're not."

Crossing my arms across my chest, I glanced away, my mind racing back to the other night when Matt had come to check on me. The way he'd seemed so upset about me thinking he was the type of guy who slept around. Then I remembered the sad smile I'd seen on his face after he'd kissed me and frowned.

"I'm not good with relationships," I admitted hesitantly. "I've only had one and it was…bad, real bad. I don't exactly know how to do the whole relationship thing. And I'm not too interested in trying again at the moment." Under my breath I muttered, "Certainly not with someone who seems to easily flirt with every woman he's attracted to."

Karen mimicked my posture, crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't think Matt is like that," she said slowly. "He's sweet. A good guy. If he wasn't genuinely interested he wouldn't be pursuing you. And Foggy said he's not seeing anyone else. He told me, and I quote, 'the guy is smitten'." She leaned forward, a large smile on her face as she emphasized again, " Smitten. Matt Murdock is smitten with you."

A small smile crossed my lips, but it vanished quickly when I remembered that not only did Matt not really know me, but I was also actively trying to help Jessica and Trish prove that my ex was in fact capable of mind control. And not only that, but he was someone who had forced Jessica and Hope to commit murder, along with so many others who had done equally horrible things because of him. The guilt of that weighed heavily on me, but when Kilgrave found out I was in Hell's Kitchen–because he would soon–I knew those around me wouldn't be safe. I couldn’t willingly put Matt in further danger, it would be terribly reckless.

"It…it can't happen," I said firmly. "Not right now, at least."

Her blue eyes narrowed at me suspiciously.

"So you do like him?" she questioned.

"I mean…I don't know him too well," I told her slowly. "But he's sweet. And funny…and so incredibly, unfairly attractive that it's painful."

Karen giggled, pointing an accusatory finger at me. "I saw you checking out his ass while we were playing pool!"

I laughed with her, holding a finger to my lips and shushing her between laughs. "That's our secret!"

Karen grinned, raising a hand and making a cross over her heart before pretending to seal her lips.

"He likes you though," she said when the laughter died down. "Maybe give it some thought before you completely say no."

I opened my mouth to answer but the buzzing of my phone cut me off. Sliding a hand into my pocket, I grabbed my phone and fished it out. The name on the screen read 'Jessica.' I frowned before taking a step back from Karen.

"I have to take this, I'll be out in a minute," I assured her.

She nodded before turning to leave. I waited until she was out of the bathroom before I answered. 

"Jessica?" I asked. "Is something wrong?"

"Not more than usual," she greeted quickly. "Look, I managed to get my hands on the Sufentanil tonight. Don't ask me how, it's not important."

"Why do I feel like you stole from a hospital?" I muttered.

"Because I did, not the point," she continued on. "Can you meet us tomorrow? Trish and I have a plan to capture him. I can explain it all tomorrow, but…" she hesitated, sounding vulnerable suddenly. "I could really use your help. If you can really do what you say you can, we could really use you if this goes south."

"Whatever it takes, right?" I reiterated. "I'll be wherever you need me."

"Great," Jessica said, the word coming out like a sigh of relief. "My apartment tomorrow morning at 8? You remember where it is?"

"Yeah, I can be there," I assured her.

There was a pause, a beat of silence over the line.

"What?" I asked her.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Don't thank me, I told you that," I reminded her, guilt roiling in my gut. "I should have done something sooner, I'm fixing it now. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

I hung up, sliding the phone back into my pocket. Pausing for a moment, I took a calming breath before exiting the bathroom. I maneuvered my way through the crowd, spotting Karen sitting with Matt and Foggy over by the pool table where I'd left them. As I began passing the bar, something caught me by the arm and I stumbled to a stop. I swore I saw Matt stiffen at the table across the room before I turned to see who'd grabbed me.

"You could do a lot better, baby," the man holding my arm said in a low rumble. "You and that blonde." His head gestured towards Karen and I felt my fists clench at my sides, his hand still wrapped around my wrist. "A nerd and a blind guy…" He shook his head, eyes traveling down to rest on my chest as he bit his lip.

I wrenched my wrist free of his grip, glaring at the large, slightly inebriated man on the bar stool. I snapped my fingers up by my face twice. 

"Eyes up here, asshole," I snapped at him.

His eyes slid back up to my face, a dark expression forming on it. 

"Mouthy," he growled, rising from the barstool and towering over me. "Should teach you a better use for that mouth of yours."

"Sit your ass back in your chair," I snarled, voice lowering dangerously, "before I teach you a better use for yours."

With a sneer, the man balled his meaty hand into a fist and swung it backwards. A collective gasp sounded around us as he aimed a punch at me, but I caught his hand instinctively the moment it flew forward, snatching it the second it was mere inches from my face. The man froze, brow furrowing. 

"No fighting in my bar!" Josie's voice boomed from behind the counter.

I clamped my hand tighter around the man's fist, eyes narrowing. I could feel a tingling sensation starting from my temples and behind my eyes before vibrating down towards the hand gripping the man's fist. I ducked my head, letting my hair fall forward to cover my face a little as I spoke.

"You should sit down," I ordered in a harsh whisper, my voice coming out with a faint vibration through the air, "apologize, and return to your drink. You don’t want to cause a scene."

The man gaped, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, dumbfounded. His fist suddenly lowered, hand dropping to his side as he sat into his chair again.

"I'm sorry about that," he muttered, brows furrowed as he spun back around in his chair, his attention back on his drink as he scratched his head.

I stood still for a moment, waiting for the telltale vibration to dissipate before I glanced past him, spotting Josie watching me curiously from behind the bar. The people standing directly beside us were also staring now. I cleared my throat and shrugged casually. 

"Guess he didn't want to make a scene," I explained simply before turning and walking away. 

Foggy interrogated me the moment I neared the table. 

"What the hell was that?" he questioned immediately.

"Are you okay?" Matt asked with a voice as tight as his grip on the table.

"I'm fine," I assured Matt before facing a flabbergasted Foggy and a very pensive Karen. "Just a drunk guy who realized it wasn't worth starting a fight and getting kicked out." I waved a hand, trying to downplay the situation.

"What an asshole," Foggy grumbled, glaring at the guy at the bar. "I'm sorry, Olivia. But hey," he said, shooting me an apologetic smile, "Matt and I would have kicked his ass for you. I don't know how well, mind you."

I laughed, mentally noting the way Karen was staring at me with a calculated gaze. "I appreciate it but I can handle myself."

"Obviously," Karen said as she pointed towards the bruises on my neck, "since you survived whatever that was."

I forced the smile to remain on my lips as my eyes darted to my coat. 

"I should probably get back home, it's getting late," I announced, making my way towards the jacket. "Thanks for inviting me out though, it was good to get out for a bit."

Matt abruptly rose from his chair, a charming smile on his face. "Let me walk you home."

"Oh you don't have to–"

"I insist," Matt cut me off. "Besides, we're going the same way."

[theonlyblackcanary]

Name: Jeremiah Mitchell Braddock

Codename: Ronin

Age: 27

Species: Mutate

Fancast: Mackenyu

Hair Color: Green (dyed)

Eye Color: Hazel-Green

Physical Appearance: Jeremiah inherited his mother's natural beauty and is tall and muscular. He dyed his black hair green and adopted that as his color scheme.

Personality: Jeremiah is quiet and loyal to everyone, but can be incredibly terrifying.

Powers: Psychic weapons, double katanas, telekensis, telepathy, enhanced durability, flexibility

Relationships:

Jeffrey Mitchell: Foster father

Rachel Mitchell: Foster mother

Elizabeth "Betsy" Braddock: Biological mother

Sam Wilson: Stepfather

Zebediah Killgrave: Biological father, enemy

Brian Braddock: Uncle

Danielle Cage: Girlfriend

Trivia:

He is the biological son of Betsy and Kilgrave, but his conception was not consensual and he despises Kilgrave for assaulting his mother

Betsy made the decision to put him up for adoption but stayed in his life as best as she could while being in the X-Men

He is still close with his foster parents even after reuniting with his biological mother and choosing to stay with her permanently at the age of nineteen

His favorite color is green

Ironically his girlfriend is Danielle Cage, the daughter of another victim of Kilgrave's, Jessica Jones though her father is Luke Cage.

Jeremiah never hated Betsy for giving him up, knowing she didn't do it because she hated him.

The first time he met Kilgrave, he broke his leg and dislocated his elbow to avenge his mother.

He considers Sam to be his biological father.

He noted that Sam's color scheme, red and blue, makes purple when mixed, purple is Betsy's color scheme.

He has minor issues with directions and understanding sarcasm

[6rookie-writer0110]

Jessica Jones x male reader

Takes place during season 1

Kilgrave wants to kill reader so he can have Jessica

Ok cool i will write it

[roleplayfinder]

Hello! 18+ searching for other 18+ writers to roleplay Jessica Jones with. I wanted to do something involving Kilgrave/Jessica/ Kilgrave/OC and I can play either, I can also do doubles.

I will be incorporating heavy and NSFW themes, however they will not be central to the plot which we can go over later in DMs

Interact with this post if you’re interested or have any questions and I will reach out to you. x

.

[sexierthanaman]

@headofrdi continued from x.

Jessica was happy she managed to steal Kilgrave’s powers as Rick fucked her. She could see him trying to fight it, but it was too strong for him. She got a horrible thought and bit back her moans to call out. “Mom, come here please!” 

Stacey couldn’t stop herself from walking into Jessica’s room. Seeing the sight before her, she cried in disbelief. 

“No more crying, strip and start pleasuring yourself to the sight of your husband fucking your adopted daughter,” Jessica ordered with a moan before looking at Rick again once Stacey did as she was ordered. “Don’t think of stopping until you’ve flooded me with your seed to the point that it’s dripping out of me.”