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kimberl1y15 · 1 year

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I loved this so much

i'm not good at this

pairing: jessica jones x fem!reader

summary: having jessica jones for a neighbor is complicated, especially when alcohol and feelings are involved.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of alcohol

word count: 6.9k

a/n: this is purely me being selfish & in love with jessica jones. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

tags: @itwasthereaminuteago @dark-academia-slut @natashasotherhalf @zhanylai @redzie02 @th1ccwinchester

It had been a week. A long, exhausting, draining week. Hunger roared from the pit of your stomach like a war cry, but all that you could think about was a hot shower. The entire walk home you ignored the ache in your feet, reminding yourself of the prize that was getting closer and closer with each step. Soon you’d be home, free to strip down completely, and let the scalding water singe away all the pent up stress and chaos that was lingering in your body. Relief flooded throughout your nervous system the second you entered your apartment building, but as soon as you stepped out of the elevator and onto your floor, you were met with a sight that you had grown all too accustomed to in the past few months; Jessica Jones passed out drunk in front of her door.

Letting out a quiet groan of frustration, you fished your keys out of your purse, stopping at your own door to unlock it and throw your things inside. Flipping through your key ring, you wrapped your fingers around the one that belonged to Jessica’s door and made the short walk down the hall. She appeared to be sleeping contently, which only fueled your annoyance, huffing as you slipped the key into the lock.

Let me just get her to bed. Then I can-

Your brows abruptly knit in confusion when you noticed the lock wouldn’t turn. Trying to twist it in either direction, another annoyed groan slipped past your lips as you realized the lock wouldn’t budge. Glaring down at the brunette peacefully passed out by your feet, you grabbed your phone from your back pocket and dialed Malcolm’s number. The familiar greeting of his voicemail had you banging your forehead against Jessica’s door rather ungently.

“Shit.”

Is something wrong with Jess’s door? My key won’t work

Three little dots appeared under your message, and you hoped he had a quick fix so you could get back to the relaxing evening you had planned.

Shit my bad

I forgot to tell you she changed the locks

A louder noise of exasperation sounded from your chest as you furiously responded to Malcolm’s text.

Why??

Forgot her key and broke the door last week

That sounded about right. Patience was not exactly in her vocabulary.

Just leave her and I’ll let her in when I get home

Glancing between Malcolm’s text and Jessica’s sleeping form, you nibbled at your bottom lip. Part of you knew she would be fine there. She’d passed out drunk in far worse places before. And on top of that she was powered, so it wasn’t like she couldn’t defend herself. But a bigger part of you felt guilty leaving her there all alone, even if she wasn’t your favorite person at the moment. Grumbling in vexation under your breath, you sent a quick text back to Malcolm and pocketed your phone, bending down to loop your arms underneath Jessica’s shoulders.

I’ll just bring her home with me, it’s my turn anyway

»»———　　———««

Having Jessica Jones for a neighbor was…interesting to say the least. When you first met her six months ago, you were just moving in. Struggling with two heavy boxes of books that you had brought up, you dropped them with a loud thud and paused outside your open door to catch your breath. A tall, dark haired woman stopped on her way out of the elevator after passing by you. Furrowing her dark brows as she glanced between the boxes and the open apartment door, the puzzlement on her face only grew as she glanced around before letting her eyes settle on you.

“You moving all this shit on your own?”

“Uh, yeah. It was either put down a deposit on this place, or hire movers. Besides, I figure this is like…an entire year’s worth of going to the gym, so.”

Her brows lifted in an expression of either respect or an indication that she was impressed. She bent down to pick up both boxes by your feet, and you watched in complete surprise as she easily lifted them and carried them through the threshold to place by the others that were neatly stacked by the wall. Your shock must have been evident on your features when she turned around, wiping her hands off on her jeans and giving you a nonchalant shrug as she slipped past you back into the hallway.

“There’s some shithead kids that hang around out front. Ask them if they wanna make twenty bucks, they'll take care of whatever else you got.”

Blinking a few times, you watched almost in a trance as she continued her path down the hallway towards a door that read ‘Alias Investigations’ on the glass. Suddenly seeming to remember words, you called out to her as she unlocked her door.

“Thank you!”

Turning her head to look at you over her shoulder, her lips parted slightly as she went to respond. Eventually she looked away, throwing back a ‘don’t mention it’ before kicking the door shut with her foot.

The second interaction you had with her was about two weeks after that day. Coming home from a late shift one night, you instantly paused stepping off the elevator when you found the familiar brunette slumped over in front of her door at the end of the hall. Anxiety shot through your nervous system as you ran over to check if she was hurt, automatically assuming the worst had happened, but you quickly halted your inspection when you heard soft snores coming from her. Confusion creased in the middle of your forehead as you stared at her, momentarily glancing around the empty hallway. Unsure of what to do, you knocked on the door across the hall from yours that you knew belonged to her friend. You had seen the two of them together frequently in passing, and had figured out that they worked together. As he opened his door, you stared at him blankly for a moment before gesturing towards Jessica.

“Hi, uh…sorry. I know we haven’t met but…I know that you guys…um, is she okay? Like that?”

The man poked his head out the door, following the direction of your hand. He sighed deeply as he shook his head, looking at you with an apologetic expression.

“She’s fine, just drunk. Happens a lot. Give me a second.”

You took a step back to give him room to step out of his apartment after he grabbed a set of keys off a hook by his door. He held out a silver one towards you and motioned his head towards the door.

“You mind unlocking it for me? I’ll get her in.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.”

Taking the key from his hand, you followed him back down the hall to Jessica’s door, unlocking it and twisting the door knob to push it open for him. He bent down to pick her up into his arms and carried her inside.

“Come on, Jess. Let’s get you to bed.”

Several minutes later when he reappeared, you gave him a timid smile as you handed the keys back to him. He returned it with a grateful one of his own, pulling the door shut quietly and locking it back into place.

“I’m Malcolm, by the way.”

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.”

He gave you another thankful smile as he shook your hand, glancing at Jessica’s door before he met your eyes again.

“Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Yeah, of course. I thought…she might have been hurt or something.”

“Takes a lot to hurt her.”

There was a playful expression on his lips, like he was letting you in on some kind of inside joke. It brought back the memory of her carrying those boxes into your place like they were full of feathers instead of books, and you found yourself mirroring his smile. Letting out another deep exhale, he glanced at her door once again as a dry laugh escaped his mouth.

“She does drink like a fish though. Can’t promise this won’t happen again.”

“Good to know. I guess I’ll be on the lookout then.”

“I appreciate the help.”

The following afternoon, there was an envelope taped to your front door with your name on it. Your curiosity got the better of you as you opened it, finding a silver key with a ‘J’ written in black permanent marker on it and a note on the inside.

In case I’m not home next time. Welcome to the neighborhood.

-Malcolm

»»———　　———««

That was primarily how it had gone over the past few months. You and Malcolm fell into a routine with each other of taking turns based on whoever was home to take care of an inebriated Jessica that couldn’t make it through her own front door. However, most of that responsibility had fallen on him lately since you’d started picking up extra shifts.

Luckily you’d already unlocked your own door, so at least you weren’t having to juggle doing that with carrying Jessica. She didn’t weigh as much as you thought she would for someone who could knock down a brick wall with her bare fist, but she was a lot taller than you and completely dead weight when she was asleep. Kicking the door shut behind you with your foot, you somehow managed to get her into your bedroom where you let her fall back onto the mattress. Ignoring her incoherent sleepy grumbles, you unzipped her boots, pulling them off along with the black leather jacket that she always wore. You were in the process of unzipping her jeans when her hand quickly shot out to grab onto your wrist.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to get your pants off.”

“Not even gonna buy me a drink first?”

Glancing up at her, you paused seeing the flirty smile that was plastered on her full lips. Shaking your head slowly, you grabbed onto the top of her jeans and attempted to pull them down her legs.

“You shut down bars, Jessica. You don’t need my help in that department.”

“Do too. Always need you.”

You tried to block out her slurred rambling, knowing exactly where this was headed.

“You don’t need anyone. You make that pretty clear every chance you get.”

“That’s not true. I-wait, why am I in your bed?”

“Because you broke your door so my key doesn’t work.”

“You have a key to my place? Huh, guess we’re getting pretty serious.”

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes when she wiggled her eyebrows, you folded her jeans neatly and set them on your nightstand.

“Malcolm gave it to me months ago. How did you think I was getting you in bed all those other times?”

“Thought I left the door unlocked.”

“I’ll get you some water.”

The grip that she had on your wrist tightened, not enough to hurt you, but enough to keep you in place. Turning to look down at her, you noticed her full lips were pursed into a pout as she tugged you closer to the bed.

“Don’t go. C’mere.”

“Jess-”

“Come on, I’ll help you get undressed too.”

“I’m not doing this with you again.”

Having Jessica Jones for a neighbor was frustrating. Not because trouble followed her wherever she went, including her home, and thus yours too. Not because she had a short fuse and a drinking problem. Not even because she let you in on her powered secret, making you a part of everything that came with that.

It was because she liked to kiss you when she was drunk and then act like you didn’t exist the next day.

»»———　　———««

The first time it happened three months ago, you weren’t even sure it actually happened. Jessica had woken up in the midst of you putting her to bed, and immediately sat up to protest, insisting that she was fine and didn’t need any help. She only stopped fighting you when you let it slip that you’d been doing this for months now, finding her staring at you with those big green eyes that had an emotion floating around in them you couldn’t decipher.

You couldn’t place if she was upset, embarrassed, or something else. The only thing Jessica seemed to be able to emote was varying shades of annoyance, with the rare smirk every now and then when she was pleased with herself. Trying to ease whatever it was she was feeling, you took her hand into yours gently and did your best to reassure her that you didn’t really mind taking care of her. In the midst of your confession, she had grabbed your face in her hands and kissed you so passionately, it made your head spin.

Before you even had a chance to react, her leg was hooked around your waist, and she had pushed you back onto her mattress to crawl over you, making herself comfortable between your hips. Every nerve ending in your body was on high alert, and you only broke the kiss because your lungs burned due to the lack of oxygen. Jessica had started to trail her lips along your jawline and down your neck as you panted, whispering her name either in a question or a plea, you weren’t sure. But the closer she got to your collarbones, the softer and less fervent the kisses became. She momentarily hid her face in the crook of your neck as she paused, and while you were still trying to figure out what was going on, you heard faint snores leaving her as her body suddenly became a lot heavier on top of yours. After quite literally leaving you breathless, she’d passed out on top of your chest.

You laid there for a few moments staring at her, brain going completely haywire as it tried to process the past ten minutes. Deciding it was better to leave and go back to your own apartment, you spent the rest of the night trying to figure out what had happened. Jessica was never particularly rude to you, but you also wouldn’t consider the two of you friends. It felt as though she tolerated your existence as much as everyone else’s. A piece of you felt exhilarated, continuously touching your tingling lips, tangible proof that it had happened. It would be an outright lie to say that you didn’t have a bit of a crush on your neighbor. You wanted her to like you, as a person, but also as something…more. The thought that she actually might kept you awake for the rest of the night, along with the nerves about how the hell you were gonna bring it up to her.

But you never got the chance.

The following morning, you spent an hour building up and tearing down your own confidence, eventually deciding to wait until you caught her in the hall to say something. You were far too nervous to go knock on her door, and you figured she was probably busy, so you decided to wait it out. But when she did eventually emerge that evening just as you were stepping off the elevator, she didn’t return the bashful smile you gave her. She barely even responded to your timid greeting with a passive expression before disappearing behind the metal doors. As you stood staring blankly at your murky reflection in the lusterless metal, an epiphany had your heart sinking into the depths of your stomach.

She didn’t remember.

A week of silence following that night solidified the reality you were struggling to accept, and that ember of hope finally died out. It was a drunken mistake that she had no memory of, and she probably hadn’t even meant for it to happen. You did your best not to dwell on it too much, deciding it was probably best to just try to forget it and move on, even if it had been the best kiss of your entire life.

But then it happened again.

Malcolm had stopped by your apartment a few days later, asking if you minded helping them out with a case they were working on. They had apparently been working on it tirelessly for days, feeling like there was something that they were missing, and he claimed they could use a fresh set of eyes. Malcolm had very easily become a really good friend to you after the first night you met, so you really didn’t mind helping him. And it gave you the excuse to be around Jessica. As you stepped through the door, you could’ve sworn you saw Jessica’s eyes widen slightly, but she quickly recovered as her face twisted into annoyance and confusion while staring at Malcolm.

“We need someone else’s perspective that hasn’t been staring at this for the past forty-eight hours.”

Jessica glared at him silently before turning her attention to you, leaning back in the chair at her desk as she let out a deep irritated exhale.

“I can’t pay you. I can barely afford him.”

“Well, lucky for you I accept payment in alcohol and food.”

The corner of her mouth curled up into a pleased smirk, and you couldn’t help but mirror it. Forcing yourself to tear your gaze away from Jessica, you turned to Malcolm and gestured around the makeshift office.

“What do you need me to do?”

After helping find the missing puzzle pieces for that case, you started seeing a lot more of Jessica. You practically spent just as much time in her apartment as you did your own. Eventually it wasn’t Malcolm knocking on your door, it was her barging in asking for your input about a case, rummaging through your cabinets for a plate because she smelt you cooking from down the hall, or literally making you stop whatever you were doing to drag you back to her apartment to settle a debate between her and Malcolm.

One night a month ago after Malcolm had gone home, you had gathered all your things to leave when Jessica handed you a glass of bourbon and motioned towards the couch.

“Stay. Don’t make me drink alone.”

“Don’t you prefer to do that?”

“Not when you’re around.”

You hadn’t spent too much alone time with Jessica, but enough to notice that her face looked significantly softer when it was just you and her. She didn’t look annoyed or irritated, her banter was more playful than scorning, and you could see tiny glimpses of a real smile beneath the curtain of that damn smirk that made your knees weak.

It felt…comfortable, natural even, sitting on the couch with her and talking like you two had known each other your entire lives. She asked you questions she seemed genuinely interested to know the answers to, and even gave some of her own to your careful inquisitions. Your heart nearly stopped when you heard her laugh for the first time, chest swelling with copious amounts of pride that you had been able to elicit that reaction from her, reveling in the way the melodic sound echoed off the walls and nestled into your ears.

But then you noticed that she was smiling. Your breath hitched in your throat seeing a real full-blown smile, and you were certain your heart had stopped.

It was the most beautiful fucking sight you had ever seen. Her full pink lips were split completely wide open in a grin displaying the entire dazzling top row of her teeth. Her large eyes had become half moons, eclipsed by the apples of her cheeks that had risen above the horizon of the upturned tip of her nose. She looked so different without the weight of her past and present tugging down her features. A crease formed between her dark brows when her laughter died down, eyeing you curiously with a tilt of her head.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

A fresh layer of scarlet blanketed your cheeks when you realized that you had been caught staring.

“S-Sorry. I just…think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you smile.”

Jessica’s smile fell slightly, becoming less carefree and more cautious, her lips concealing her teeth again as she stared at you with an indecipherable look in her eyes. She tapped her index finger against her glass, dragging her teeth along her bottom lip before downing the amber liquid that remained.

“Haven’t really had a reason to in awhile.”

“And you do now?”

“I think so.”

Her eyes momentarily fell to your lips for a moment before focusing back on your own. Your mouth went dry as you tried to think of something to say, averting your gaze to anywhere but her. In one swift movement Jessica had pulled you onto her lap, grabbing onto the back of your neck to crash your lips together in a heated kiss. Her lips felt so soft…so good against your own. It was so easy to get lost in her, threading your fingers through her dark hair as you held each other as close as possible.

There was a spark that shot through you every time her fingers touched a new part of you. As she tugged at the hem of your shirt, you silently obeyed her command and lifted your arms, allowing her to pull it over your head to toss carelessly aside. Desire completely clouded your brain as you rocked your hips slowly against her lap, seeking out anything that she would give you. You didn’t necessarily like the taste of bourbon, but you loved the way it tasted on her tongue. Jessica didn’t wait for permission as her hands explored your exposed chest, demanding entry to your mouth with her tongue, sinking her teeth into the sensitive flesh on your neck to leave possessive marks as if you both knew already you belonged to her.

The warmth spreading throughout your body had nothing to do with the alcohol burning in your veins and everything to do with her. Every swipe of her teeth and tongue on your skin was another ounce of gasoline being poured on the bonfire that blazed between the apex of your thighs. Lulling your head to the side to allow her to take whatever she wanted, the flames rose higher and higher inside you, nearly consuming you completely when you felt her hand slip beneath the barrier of your jeans.

Maybe you shouldn’t have opened your eyes. The second they landed on the empty bottle on her desk, it was like an alarm went off in your head, and you found yourself hesitantly struggling to untangle from Jessica.

“Jess…wait-”

“I got you, baby. Let me take care of you for once.”

“Jess…just…wait, please.”

Jessica’s sage green eyes had darkened considerably with lust as she stared at you, searching your face for the source of your hesitation.

“I…I don’t want you to forget again.”

The corner of Jessica’s mouth curved upwards into that signature smirk, and she shook her head as she eyed you with hunger.

“I didn’t forget that. I won’t pass out on you this time, I promise.”

Jessica’s confession had the intoxicated haze that was enveloping you quickly disappearing, and it felt like the sky had just opened up with an unforgiving downpour, dousing that fire within you.

“What? Why…why didn’t you say anything?”

She shook her head quickly as she licked her lips, cradling your face in her hand as she leaned in to capture your lips again while nearly ripping your jeans to shreds.

“Doesn’t matter. Come here.”

Wrapping your fingers around her wrist tightly, you placed your palm against her chest to keep space between the two of you as you tried to capture her attention.

“It matters to me. Jess, I don’t…I don’t want it to be…like this.”

“Like what?”

“You’re drunk. Again.”

Any lingering trace of a smile vanished completely at your admission. Jessica dropped her hand from your face and sank back into the cushion of the couch, a dry scoff leaving her lips as she stared up at you with a familiar shade of annoyance.

“I’m tipsy at best.”

“You’ve still been drinking-”

“I’m always drinking. Why the hell is that a goddamn problem now?”

“Because you only treat me like this when you have been drinking. You don’t…you don’t act like this with me when you’re sober. Sometimes I don’t even know if you actually like me when you’re sober.”

“For fucks sake-”

“Jess you’ve kissed me twice now, and I have no idea what it means to you. The first time…you didn’t even speak to me when you saw me the next day. You completely ignored me-”

“So what, because I didn’t show up at your goddamn door with some flowers, I’m the bad guy? Jesus Y/N, it’s just sex. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Jessica’s words hit you like a sucker punch, and you honestly thought it would’ve hurt less if she had actually punched you. That sinking feeling was back in your gut, and it had you climbing down from her lap, tears of humiliation stinging your eyes as you searched for your shirt in the dim light.

A heavy exhale sounded from Jessica’s chest as she leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees, watching you with an expression of pure annoyance.

“I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this-”

“Because it matters to me, Jessica. This isn’t fair. You don’t get to act like you need me when you’re drunk and then-”

“I don’t need you.”

Jessica’s features were rigid as she stared at you, and the harshness of her voice had your heart plummeting all the way down to the lobby. It definitely would’ve hurt less if she’d actually just hit you. Letting out another humorless laugh, she stood and walked past you to retrieve a fresh bottle from one of her desk drawers before retreating back to her bedroom.

“You can let yourself out.”

»»———　　———««

That had been a month ago. You hadn’t spoken to her since you left her apartment that night, and she hadn’t tried to speak to you once. Malcolm knew something had happened. Your lack of presence disrupted the routine the three of you had set, and he knew he wasn’t getting any answers out of Jessica, but you refused to talk about it and instead picked up extra shifts so you didn’t have to make excuses. Or even see her.

But it didn’t stop the pain that pierced through your heart every time you did see her in passing, or see another unfamiliar face doing the walk of shame past your door. You’d gone through various stages of grief in the past thirty days; beginning with anger, slipping into depression, skipping denial and bargaining altogether as you worked your way towards acceptance.

A huge part of you was pissed at Jessica. Several nights you wanted to kick down her door, as if you could, and show her the same cruelty she had shown you that night. You wanted to scream at her, throw every bottle of bourbon she had at the wall since that was as close to shattering her heart as you were ever gonna get.

A bigger part of you mourned her. As much as you hated to admit it, you missed her. That loneliness that you’d felt before her and Malcolm came into your life weighed heavy in your bones like lead. Your heart kept questioning what you had done wrong, and why she didn’t feel the same way about you. Maybe you had tricked yourself into believing in something that wasn’t real, buying into an illusion of your own creation. Your brain tried to rationalize that you hadn’t done anything wrong, that Jessica simply couldn’t love anyone like that. It was something you should’ve known all along, but you continuously refused to accept.

Now, you had no choice but to accept it.

The wound she had left was still healing, but being this close to her had ripped it wide open, and you weren’t going to bleed in front of her again. Not after the way she had reacted last time. Yanking your hand away from her grasp, you shook your head as you avoided looking her in the eye and tried to keep your emotions in tact until you could make it to the refuge of your bathroom.

“I’ll take the couch.”

“Wait, just-fuck, hang on a second.”

“Jessica, I’m exhausted. All I want to do is shower and go to bed, okay. I don’t have the energy for this right now.”

“Then stop taking so many shifts just so you don’t have to see me.”

There was an accusatory tone to Jessica’s voice, but it contrasted significantly with the guilt pooling in her eyes. For someone who had just been completely passed out ten minutes ago, she looked painfully sober as she stared at you with a thin veil of dejection settling over her face.

“I know that’s what you’re doing. And I…look, I was a dick. I didn’t mean that shit.”

“Fine.”

“Come on, I’m trying here-”

“Then try when you’re sober. Because I’m really sick of you only wanting to be vulnerable with me when you get to pretend it didn’t happen the next day. You don’t know how that makes me feel-”

“Shitty. It makes you feel shitty. And it makes me feel shitty for doing it to you.”

There was a crestfallen smile on Jessica’s lips, and as you finally looked at her, you could see a layer of remorse building along her waterline. She moved to sit on the edge of the bed in front of you, reaching out to grasp your wrist again. Slipping her loose hold from your wrist down to wrap her fingers around yours, she brushed her thumb lightly over your knuckles.

“I…I’m not good at this shit.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Tilting her head back to look up at you, a pang of guilt sliced through your chest seeing her eyes completely glassed over with regret. Jessica gave you a somber smile, nodding her head slightly as she dropped her hand from yours.

“I’m not taking your bed from you. I’ll go-”

“You’re already here. Just…get some sleep.”

“Then I’ll take the couch.”

There was a firmness in her voice that let you know she wasn’t going to argue with you. Dragging your palms slowly down your face, you let out a deep breath and nodded in agreement.

“Alright. You know where everything is.”

Jessica tucked her hair behind her ears as she stood up, pausing as she went to reach for her jeans. There was a look of contemplation on her face, but before you could question it, she was pulling you into her chest to wrap her arms tightly around you. Instinctively your arms came up her back to grab onto her shoulders, sighing softly as you pressed your forehead against her chest.

“Jess-”

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m really fucking sorry. I’m an asshole, I know that. I didn’t mean to be, not to you. I just…I wasn’t…”

She pulled back slightly to look at you, and your heart broke at the sight of tears faintly rolling down her cheeks.

“I know you had a long day and, shit-I’m sorry. Can we just…talk in the morning? Please?”

“Yeah…okay.”

Jessica pressed her lips together in a tight smile, giving a slight nod of her head as she leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. Quickly wiping at her face and grabbing her things, she quietly retreated to your living room, leaving you restless once again as thoughts of her kept you awake for the entirety of the night.

»»———　　———««

Incessant noise coming from your kitchen roused you out of the sleep you’d somehow managed to fall into. Rubbing at your eyes, you let out a quiet yawn as you slowly got up from bed, opening the door to your bedroom to figure out who the hell was causing all the commotion that seemed to be coming from your kitchen.

Pausing in the entryway, your brows pulled together in confusion as you glanced between Jessica and your dining room table, noticing two dry bowls of cereal placed by each other. Jessica had paused in the midst of pulling on her jacket, following your gaze to the bowls before she looked at you with a sheepish expression.

“I was gonna go get some milk from my place.”

“You have milk?”

Jessica clicked her tongue against her cheek as she pulled her jacket over her shoulders, shifting her weight onto her other foot as she glanced around your kitchen with a sigh before meeting your eyes and throwing her hands up.

“Fine. I was gonna go steal some from Malcolm.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you leaned your head against the wall as you looked at her with a curious smile tugging at your lips.

“You don’t even like cereal.”

“Yeah well…I can’t cook and it was all you had that was…easy. Or supposed to be at least. But I guess now breakfast in bed is ruined.”

The impassive joking tone of Jessica’s voice didn’t match the serious look on her face, or the apprehension in her eyes. Confusion once again coveted your face as you stared at her.

“Breakfast in bed?”

Jessica averted her gaze down to her worn boots, lightly tugging at the zipper at the bottom of her jacket as she let out a deep exhale. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips as she glanced out the window, lightly shrugging her shoulders.

“I told you I’m not good at this.”

“Making breakfast?”

Rolling her eyes, Jessica looked at you and used her hand to gesture between the two of you.

“No, smartass. This.”

“Uh…having a normal conversation? Small talk? What? I can’t read your mind, Jess.”

Jessica clenched her hands at her sides, clearly in a state of frustration, but it didn’t seem to be aimed at you. She pulled one of the chairs away from the table and plopped down, lightly slapping her hands against her thighs before looking up at you.

“Romance. Relationships. Feelings. Talking about said feelings. Letting…letting people in and all that other shit. I’m not good at it.”

She stared at you expectantly, like she was waiting for you to go next, but you weren’t sure exactly what it was that she wanted from you. You stood up a little straighter, keeping your arms crossed over your chest as you pursed your lips and waited for her to continue. She let out a defeated sigh at your reaction, falling back against the chair as she stared at you with a complicated expression.

“Everyone that I have ever cared about, or…loved, has been taken from me. Or I’ve run them off before they could be, because I couldn’t deal with losing another goddamn person.”

Your heart ached at her confession. You were well versed in Jessica’s past. You knew what she had gone through, and what she had lost. That truth echoed in your head every time you got close to losing your patience with her. Pushing yourself away from the wall, you took a seat in the chair closest to her and shook your head slowly.

“That’s a lonely way to live, Jess. I wouldn’t even consider what you’re doing living. It’s…surviving at best.”

“It’s easier.”

“Is it?”

Jessica stared at you silently with parted lips, seemingly searching for the right response. You could see her answer in her eyes though. You could even still feel it on your lips.

“Jessica, I don’t think you’d ever let anything happen to me. So if that’s what you’re worried about-”

“It isn’t just that. If I don’t get you hurt or…worse because of what I am, I’m gonna run you off eventually.”

“Is that what you want?”

“No, but it’s what’s going to happen. I…I am an asshole. Sooner or later, I’m gonna fuck up. I’m gonna lose my shit and say something I don’t mean. Shit, I’ve already done that. I’m gonna…forget something important. I…I’m gonna do something you can’t forgive, and then I’m gonna lose you. Either way, I lose you. And I don’t wanna do that because you…you’re the one person that looks at me and sees me.”

The vulnerability in her voice made your fingers tremble, and you couldn’t handle seeing her eyes glass over with hurt again. You took your bottom lip tightly between your teeth, staring down at your lap to fight off your own overwhelming emotions. You had never seen or heard Jessica so broken, and you felt somewhat guilty for unraveling whatever it was that helped keep her together.

“Jess-”

Jessica reached for one of your hands and held onto it tightly, giving it a gentle squeeze to capture your attention.

“You don’t look at me like I’m a freak. You don’t look at me like I’m an asshole, even when I’m being one. You are the one goddamn person that always looks like they’re actually happy to see me. And not because you need something from me, or what you think I can do for you, you’re just…genuinely happy to see me. You call me out on my shit, and then offer to help me fix it. You come home fucking exhausted, and still come by to help. You leave those goddamn addicting cookies on my desk when you know I’ve had a shit week, and you make my favorite foods when you think I’ve had too much take out. You have made those shitty four walls feel like a real home, and given me a goddamn sense of normalcy. I mean you, me…Malcolm, we’re like…this…family. And I-I am scared to death of having that feeling ripped away again. I am scared that I’m gonna be the one to rip it away when you see my worst.”

“Your worst?”

Even though your face was streaked in tears, you couldn’t help but laugh. Jessica clearly didn’t see the humor in what she had just said, because she was staring at you through her own teary eyes incredulously.

“Jessica Jones, you have shown me nothing but your worst since the moment I met you, and I am still here. Do you think I’d leave if you finally started showing me your best?”

Jessica pulled her bottom lip behind her teeth as she shook her head slowly, letting out a breathless laugh as she looked down at your hand in hers.

“Might give you whiplash.”

Pulling your hand from hers, you cupped her jaw and brushed away the wetness on her cheeks with your thumbs, a warm smile covering your lips as you stared into her mesmerizing green eyes.

“You are the most impatient, hard-drinking, grumpy mess I have ever met. But you also have the biggest heart I’ve ever seen, and despite what you think of yourself, you are a hero. I have never felt more safe in my entire life than I have living down the hall from you. You’ve been my hero from the day I met you. I’m not asking you to change who you are Jessica. I just…I want you to let me in. But I want you to want to do that.”

“I do-”

“And not need liquid courage to do it.”

“I know.”

Jessica sucked in a deep breath before exhaling slowly, placing her hand over yours and staring into your eyes with a soft smile. Closing her eyes for a moment, she cleared her throat before opening her eyes to look at the clock on your microwave, diverting her attention back to you with that signature smirk on her lips.

“Okay. It’s eight thirty-seven in the morning, and I have absolutely nothing in my system. No booze, no energy drink, nothing. I am ridiculously sober, and also starving. I am also very much into you, and to make up for being such a dick, I’d like to take you to breakfast.”

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise, and you couldn’t hold back the grin that enveloped your entire mouth as you stared at her.

“Jessica Jones, are you asking me on a date?”

“Nope. I’m asking you to breakfast. Then, tomorrow night, I’m taking you to your favorite Italian place. That is the date, and I’m not asking.”

A childlike sense of giddiness bubbled in your stomach, and you felt heat spreading across your cheeks and throughout your lower half from the way she was staring at you. Gently biting down on your bottom lip, you arched one of your brows playfully.

“Oh?”

“Mhm. Then you can decide if you forgive me, and if I can take you on another after that.”

“You know for someone who’s not good at…this, you’re doing pretty damn good.”

“I think I’m just good with you.”

Jessica’s lips parted into a wide victorious grin, and there was a twinkle of mischief in her eyes as she leaned in closer. You giggled softly as you pressed your index finger against her mouth, shaking your head slowly.

“Less seducing, more feeding. I need caffeine.”

“God, I forget you without coffee is like me without bourbon. You’re really not gonna let me kiss you?”

“We’ll see how the date goes, Jones. You have a lot of making up to do.”

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kimberl1y15 · 1 year

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Day 8: The Wheel of Fortune - Jessica Jones

What You Wish For

Summary: A client of Jessica's brings her to your door and she's not prepared for what you are.

Warnings: Assault

Tarot prompt will appear in bold

Many had been sent to me, many had been doubtful and many had walked away without ever grasping what I truly was. Jessica was no exception.

When she came to my door, trying to find out why her client's husband had suddenly gotten ludicrously wealthy and learned fluent Mandarin overnight, the word 'genie' was a sneer on her lips. She didn't believe at all.

“Is it really so hard to comprehend when you're not exactly a standard human?” I sat back in my armchair as she cocked her dirty boots up on my coffee table.

“A genie? Really? Where's your lamp?”

“Look, all I know is that when I was young and people would wish for things around me, I could make them happen. What exactly would you term that?”

“So this guy comes up and wants to be some big businessman with capital behind him.”

“And the other thing too.”

“What other thing?”

“Depends if his wife took down his pants yet. She'll find out eventually.”

“He wished for a big dick, didn't he?”

“A thick one. If she stays with him she'll be walking like she's saddlesore forever and a day.”

“Gross.”

“Believe or don't or make a wish yourself but there it is. I'm not in the habit of lying to people like me.”

“Fine. I'll bite because this is just bullshit anyway,” she shrugs. “I wish that I would have an apartment full of whiskey by the time I get back. Top shelf stuff. No, the really fuckin' expensive bottles that go for a hundred each.”

“Done,” I feel the rush go through me that always signalled when a wish had been granted. “I'll see you when you come back.”

“I won't be coming back, lady,” Jessica gets up and walks out.

After an hour I sat on the doorstep, waiting. I didn’t know if I would be waiting hours or days, but sooner or later Jessica would have no choice but to return. Curiosity always drove people to return once they'd had a taste.

I was reading out on the steps in the heat of the sun when Jessica came storming up to me.

“Okay, what the fuck?” she grabs me and bodily lifts me to my feet before dragging me inside my apartment. “Someone just delivered pallets of booze to my place and said there'd been a mix up. That some rich schmoe doesn't want them back because he doesn't know where they've been so I get to keep it all. Did you do that? Ring in some connections to make this believable?”

“I've just been sitting outside. Cameras will tell you that much.”

“Shit..I...there's no way,” Jessica looks at me strangely.

“Try another wish if you want.”

“How many do I get?”

“Three seems to be the limit for the amount of times I manipulate a person's reality around them. Then they seem to become immune.”

“And what are the limits?”

“None,” I look away to the window. “I can bring people back from the dead, make someone fall in love with you, kill anyone instantly with it. That's why I don't like to be found.”

“So you hide in a suburban neighbourhood? Yeah, that's a great spot,” she rolls her eyes.

“No one suspects the person who makes cobbler for the street to be capable of what I am, so less of the fucking attitude.”

She blinks for a moment, not expecting to get any vitriol back, “Fine. I'm making another wish and I'm gonna stay right here until it happens. Then I'll know.”

“Done and, surprisingly nice of you.”

“Go right ahead.”

“I wish my best friend would cut off her overbearing mother and get help.”

“What? I don't seem like a nice person to you?” she narrows her eyes.

“You did just manhandle me into my own house but lucky for you, I'm into it.”

“That's more information than I needed to know.”

“Oh well,” I sit down in my armchair again, one leg crooked over the arm. “You come at me with aggression, you get blunt honesty back.”

“I can respect that,” Jessica folds her arms, impatiently tapping her foot before her phone starts ringing and she answers. “Hey Trish. Wait.....slow down! What? You're where?! What do you mean, rehab? I...wow, no, I'll come visit tomorrow, okay? Bye.”

Then she stares at me like I've grown three heads.

“Let me guess, your friend is calling to say she's had an epiphany and she needs to sort her life out?”

“What the....fuuuuuck, you're the real fucking deal?” she stows her phone away.

“Which is why you can't ever tell anyone I exist. The odd person finding me a couple of times during a year is fine but if I gets out, I'm going to be someone's wish granting slave within days. You understand me? I like the life I have.”

“I wouldn't ever do that to anyone. I know what it's like to have freedom taken away from you,” she trails off. “I'll make up some bank records and Mandarin lessons receipts for the client. Nothing that leads to you.”

“Thank you. You know you still have one wish left if you want to use it?”

“I'm good. Maybe when I run outta all that booze at my place,” she cracks a genuine smile. “I'll leave now.”

“If your work ever leads you back here, you're welcome to visit.”

And it did. Twice she came back asking about wishes I'd granted people and we mainly talked, discovering mutual interests, swapping stories about other gifted humans we'd come across and warnings about certain ones.

We drank, though I didn't have the tolerance that she did but she could stand to be around my hyperactive drunk self which was apparently a rarity for her.

Then the third time she came back, she discovered what happens when a wisher doesn't like what they asked for. She discovered that sometimes they can turn violent.

“Who did that to you?” Jessica was quietly raging when she saw the state of my face, how I was limping and wincing when I walked. “The guy? His wife sent me to see if he was having an affair because he suddenly had all these bite marks all over him.”

“He came to my door with a gun and told me to make him irresistible to women, except he didn't specify the terms and even little old grandma's were trying to get on top of him. Somehow that's my fault.”

“Shit. You weren't included in that wish, were you?”

“No, it doesn't ever affect me.”

“Good. Now I'm gonna go kill that son of a bitch.”

She ran off before I could say anything and I knew she'd done it when she came back but neither of us spoke a word about it. I knew it was necessary, the wish was for life and that meant any woman's free will was at stake around him. I couldn't undo wishes so he was a danger to society as long as he was alive.

“Look, drink this, forget about that shithead,” she's brought one of those expensive bottles of whiskey with her, the ones that usually start with 'Glen-'. “You need to move. Too many people know where you are now.”

“And go where?”

“The inner city. There's a spare apartment next to mine and the neighbours never talk to each other. You won't have to interact with anyone.”

“Give up my house for an apartment. Sounds great.”

“Or go to another suburb but I'm not walking through your door to find out some asshole pervert has beaten you to death because his wish backfired, okay?”

“Because you care?”

“Gross.”

“I'll take that as a yes.”

“If it'll shut you up, yes I care.”

I took a big drag of the bottle, ignoring the burn as it went down. Already the pain was muted.

“If I'm gonna be leaving and moving somewhere shitty, guess I'll have to make use of my king size bed in case it doesn't fit the new place. Wanna join me? I need a good distraction.”

“Wow, you really just straight up ask, huh? No messing around, no big romantic preamble. I like that,” she takes off her leather jacket. “I'm usually into guys but I make the odd exception and even banged up, you're hot so sure. Let's fuck. Doesn't mean we're a thing.”

“Look, I just want to get off and let loose and you're pretty. Don't make it weird, Jess. We're friends.”

And we were until the fucking became more frequent after I moved in next to her. Then the lines got blurry. We started sleeping in the same bed together, I started helping her with Alias Investigations and Trish started to refer to us as her favourite couple.

After some odd nights trying to work up to the big 'what are we?' conversation, Jessica used her last wish.

“I wish you'd tell me what you want this to be,” she caught me out one evening.

“You're a fucking bitch, you know that?” I tried to resist the power but it was no good. “Done. I want us to be official but I know you're not so into labels.”

“Aww, you really like me,” she mocks.

“You made me say it!”

“Gross.”

“Hey, that's my line,” she whacks me lightly in the arm. “And god if it'll shut you up spilling your feelings, we'll be official.”

“Haven't you got some cobbler to make?”

“I swear to god I will drink all the whiskey in your apartment if you don't shut up.”

“Good. Drinking makes you an uninhibited flirt and I like fucking drunk you,” she grabs me around the waist and kisses me hard. “Damn, I should've gotten a girlfriend a long time ago. By the way, I got your Halloween outfit.”

When I opened it though and I saw she'd bought an I Dream of Jeannie costume, I just stared at her in disbelief.

“Wear it out or wear it just for me. Either way you'll look hot,” she grins, just daring me to say something.

“Bedroom it is then but if you make jokes about rubbing a magic lamp, I will smother you in your sleep.”

“I make no promises. Get the fuck in the bedroom, genie girl.”

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kimberl1y15 · 1 year

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ALEX TURNER 2023

#the car tour #alex turner #arctic monkeys #arcticmonkeys Tour 2023

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kimberl1y15 · 1 year

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You know who I want more than Matthew Murdock? Jessica Jones

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kimberl1y15 · 1 year

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I love plants 🌱🪴🌿🌱🍃

#plants #crystals #booksbooksbooks

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kimberl1y15 · 1 year

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A.K.A. She Saved Me

pairing: Jessica Jones x reader

word count: 3660 words

moodboard

request: could you do something where a fem reader gets cornered by a group of drunk men and then jessica jones beats the hell out of all of them just to save her? then she takes the woman home with her and the reader cuddles Jess instead of wanting sex, which im sure jess isn't used to lol

warnings: angst, injury, mature language, cat-calling and predatory behaviour, creepy men in alleyways, violence, making out

a/n: this one is dedicated to my best friend in the whole wide world @inkandbloodbound. merry christmas, my angel. I hope you have the most magical time <3

taglist: @inkandbloodbound @cassidylynnj @kimberl1y15

piece no. 6 of margo's christmas spectacular

The first time you heard Jessica Jones, you were unpacking boxes, enjoying how cohesive your favourite book series editions looked next to each other on the shelf in your living room, as well as enjoying the fact that you finally had your own place and could put your favourite books in your living room in the first place. Your speakers were yet to be found in one of the many boxes, but you honestly just liked the sounds of Hell’s Kitchen below you, which was why your window was wide open (Well, as open as the broken latch would allow).

It wasn’t peaceful by a long stretch, with the constant angry commuters honking their horn, the occasional police siren and honest-to-god one time exclamation of ‘I’m walkin here!’, but to you, it was heaven. The freedom of finally having a place to call your own just simply couldn’t be dampened.

“Fucking- Shit!”

You frowned, looking around the room as though the source definitely hadn’t just come from directly upstairs. God, you really hoped it hadn’t just come from directly upstairs. You were sure you could handle anything here if it meant your own space, but a loud, cursing upstairs neighbour who-

BANG

-banged around the place definitely wasn’t ideal. No, no, it’s fine. It was only once, maybe they just dropped their crossword book or scratched their really quiet Mozart record?...

“Fucking cocksucking DICKS!”

…Maybe not.

Let it be known that you were no prude. You knew what to expect when you moved into the notorious Hell’s Kitchen and it wasn’t anything you hadn’t heard or seen before. However, that didn’t stop your nerves fraying slightly at the sound of what was surely a plate smashing on the ceiling/floor you shared with your upstairs neighbour.

You stood with a sigh, making it over to your window to close it. A shame, really, because the breeze was lovely.

Your fingers hooked the window catch but paused before pulling it as you strained to hear footsteps stomp towards you from above. You don’t know how you knew to do it, but you felt compelled to stick your head out of the window, just in time to see a laptop fly out of the window of the apartment above you. Impressive throw.

═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══

The first time you saw Jessica Jones, she was shoving a too-big pizza box into the too-small garbage disposal unit into the mail/garbage room of the apartment building you shared. You knew instantly that she was the girl with the laptop. Or rather, the girl who probably didn’t have a laptop right now. Either way, she didn’t spot you, too engrossed in attempting to fold up four layers of thick cardboard into some sort of origami mess that wasn’t ever going to fit into that garbage unit.

Your trash bag was swinging from your outstretched arm as you walked awkwardly to prevent it from crashing against your legs. It kind of smelled like decaying flesh in the garbage room and the splutter-cough combo escaping your lips became inevitable, alerting the angry girl to your presence. She quickly turned to face you, her jet black hair whipping around her leather clad shoulder, stare so fierce it felt as though someone had dumped a bucket of ice cold water on you.

You weren’t sure what exactly you were expecting from the foul-mouthed laptop killer who lived above you, but it certainly wasn’t this. She was pale, with striking dark eyes and hair that made you feel this intense, ineffable feeling. Her biker jacket hugged her strong figure in a way you were sure could have the power to leave you fighting for breath under less garbage-related circumstances.

Electricity seemed to crackle in the air as you both stood looking at each other. You had an urge to speak, as two people who had been staring at each other for 7 seconds (and counting) often would, but nothing seemed to suffice for the weirdly weighted moment. You didn’t know why.

Neither of you spoke and you began to wonder if a silence had ever gone on for so long or felt so much for so little reason. You thought about speaking, but no words appeared in your mind that wouldn’t have you cringing for the next three days thinking about this very conversation.

The tension was palpable, the invisible chord between you growing tighter and tighter until… it wasn’t. Your extraordinary upstairs neighbour turned on the heavy heel of her boot, back to the half crushed pizza box hanging pathetically from the disposal unit. She yanked the box out of the hole, threw it onto the floor and stamped on it with enough power to flatten it completely in just one go. You remained completely speechless, mouth ever so slightly parted as she finally managed to violently shove the box into the unit.

The doorway you were standing in was narrow, but your mystery neighbour managed to manoeuvre past you, throwing you a smirk so brief you almost questioned the reality of it.

And she was gone. And you were alone.

Holding a garbage bag.

═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══

When you finally met Jessica Jones, it was cold and dark. Your cheeks pinched just as you realised that your thin hoodie wasn’t nearly enough. You could actually see your breath, as well as steam coming out of the grates. Wow, New York really was the dramatic stereotype you saw on TV. Hopefully not too much like on TV, as you were walking alone in an alleyway around the back of a dive bar. If you were on a show, it would have been the first scene of a murder mystery show, and everyone knows the girl in the first scene never makes it past the theme tune.

You shook your head as you pulled your jacket tighter around you, hoping it would shake the ridiculous notion out of your mind so you could actually walk home. The only route that didn’t involve dive bar alleyways added an extra 20 minutes to your journey which, in this cold, seemed a far worse fate than some creepy shadows.

Wait, creepy shadows?

“Hey there, hot stuff!”

Fuck.

You carried on walking, careful not to pick up your pace in fear of the cause of the knot in your stomach breaking into a run after you. The alleyway wasn’t too long, you honestly could make it in just a few more ste-

“My friend over there is talking to you, baby…” The man who stepped out in front of you was calmer than his companion, which was somehow so much worse. He also blocked the exit onto the street and your stomach dropped in complete dread at the realisation that you were truly stuck and that your life really was about to become a media stereotype of the big apple.

Frozen in your tracks, you weighed the options. Option 1: there were no options. At that moment, you regretted many things, but laughing at your mom’s moving gift of pepper spray, leaving it in that junk drawer in your kitchen began to rank the highest. Your blood rushed in your ears so loudly that you didn’t hear what the man walking towards you was saying. It seemed somewhat insane to ask him to repeat himself, so you didn’t, instead adopting an expression of defiance in an attempt to make your ignorance seem meaningful and intentional. The chuckle you heard next, coupled with the hard body you felt against your back sent shards of ice through your nervous system. Trapped, completely trapped, you balled your hands into fists so tightly there were raw moons in your palms from your fingernails, hoping you could remember one single goddamn thing about self defence class.

Your mind came up empty, because of course it did and your lips began to ghost words that your throat couldn’t seem to form. You wanted to scream, to tell them to fuck off and knee them right where it would hurt most, but you never got the chance, even if you thought in any way shape or form you could muster the wits to thaw yourself.

“Hey! These guys bothering you?”

You’d know that voice anywhere, it was the place your mind wandered to when you were supposed to be focused on your writing, the one you heard on the phone at 3am sometimes, muffled by the floor between you. You could never tell what she was saying, but you always knew it was her. She paced when she took a phone call, and she rarely took her boots off or went to bed earlier than 4. She hadn’t thrown any more valuables out of her window, at least not while you were home, and she got take-out almost every night. Thinking about her made you feel flustered. You knew all these things to be true, despite never saying a word to this mystery girl.

But now she was here, infamous boots striding towards your attackers, her face too consumed in shadows to be fully seen.

“Ain’t nothin for you to worry your little head about, sweetheart. This is a private conversation between friends, got it?” The one standing by your front was so close to you his beer breath crept right into your space, nausea bubbling inside you and mixing with the pure panic coursing through your veins.

“She doesn’t exactly look like she wants to be friends with you. Maybe you should fuck off.” She was a whole new brand of direct. Pure bluntness, the kind you could only ever dream of being. This woman had never people pleased in her entire life, and it was… ridiculously attractive. Especially when it was being weaponized to protect you. She didn’t even know you, and yet here she was, clenching her fists at the slime bothering you.

The foulest smelling one, the one at your front, turned on his heel slowly, just as his friend stepped to the side of you to join him.

“And just who do you think you’re talking to, bitch? Now, we’re about to fuck this pretty little thing, so we’d appreciate it if you-”

Wham

The sound of knuckles smashing against the flesh of the guy’s cheek was so loud it echoed around the alleyway. You just about managed to step to the side so that he didn’t fall into you. Jet black hair whipped down as your knight in shining leather ducked briefly from the second man’s failed attempt at a counter-attack. She used the momentum to push back to standing and crack the guy's jaw, who fell into his hobbling friend with enough force to knock them both over. They hit the floor, scrambling, and there was that awful sound of flesh on pavement. You would have winced, were you not absolutely frozen to the spot, jaw agape whilst your eyes fixated on her, refusing to break from those damn hypnotising eyes.

There were groans behind you, though the origins of them didn’t seem to be attempting a suave recovery. The tension grew, the silence lengthened, it was exactly like that electricity generated between the two of you in that garbage room, but with a slightly better smell in the air. Slightly.

She appeared to be surveying you, hazel eyes dyed near black by the shadows breaking the contact with your own wide stare to roam over you. They stopped at your hands, shaking madly, part from the chill in the air, part the enduring anxiety from what she’d saved you from. At this observation, her features seemed to soften, crease between her knitted frowning brows disappearing entirely.

“We should get outta here. You live in my building, right?”

Her voice was deep and it reminded you of thick honey and spiced rum, but her tone was much, much softer than the way she spoke to her former laptop. You nodded, feeling your breath hitch when she grabbed your hand and briskly walked you out of the alleyway.

In a few turns, you were back in civilization, with cars honking and people stalking past with their heads down and earphones on full blast. It took you a few moments for your mind to catch up, but when it did, you managed to shout a thanks over the noises of Hell’s Kitchen.

“Don’t mention it.” She responded, stopping once you were at least a couple of streets away from the scene of the crime and turning to you. “Are you alright? Did they hurt you?” She began to scan over you again, though there were no injuries to be found. You shook your head, your hand feeling weirdly cold and empty after she dropped it.

“I-I’m fine. But really, thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without you…” You trailed off, realising that despite all these strangely weighted encounters, you didn’t actually know her name. And yet your hand was still fucking tingling.”

“Jess.” “Jess.” You repeated, hating how breathless it came out but loving just how well it suited her. It sounded ridiculous, but looking at her you swore you could see a level of concern and protection you had never experienced before in your life in Jess’ face. And you knew you had to know more, peel back the layers of the hardened shell with the guarded stance and bruised knuckles and find whatever softness was rooted back in those tired eyes. This was the third time Jessica Jones had somehow been thrust into your life, and maybe you’d be a fool to leave it up to chance again.

So you didn’t.

“Can I buy you a drink, Jess?”

═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══

Walking back from the bar wasn’t nearly as hard with Jess by your side. It had been 3 hours, and yet you felt the safest you’d felt since moving here when she was with you. One drink turned into two, that turned into four and then you were giggling whilst Jess explained her vehement hatred of the super in your building, the warmth of whiskey stopping the shivers.

“I mean, come on. Nobody needs to see your ass crack every time you take out the trash, man.” “He always glares at me, I have no idea what I did but he really doesn’t like me.” “Nah, he glares at everyone. You’re good.”

You feigned wiping sweat from your brow theatrically, just as the two of you reached the door to the apartment building.

“Home sweet home…” You mumbled, watching Jess hold the door open for you and follow you into the elevator. She stood right beside you, shoulders touching as she pressed the button for her floor and her floor only. The doors closed and the air suddenly became thick and warm but somehow sent a shiver down your spine.

The spark was there, that much you were sure of, if not by the way it was practically lighting the two of you up in the bar, then by the lingering hand Jess left every time she took a drink from you or vice versa, the way her eyes didn’t leave you until the very last second when you went to the bathroom. She was attracted to you and you were damn sure that not only was she the most beautiful woman you’d ever met, but also the most interesting. Four drinks wasn’t nearly enough to even begin to understand her and that enthralled you. You had to know more, and you were pretty sure you could see the opportunity presenting itself.

The muted ding of the rusty elevator bell rang out just barely and the doors slid open with a creak. Jess stepped out, turning almost… nervously to you.

“Do you… wanna come in? I have shit whiskey and two day old pizza if you’re hungry.”

A smirk tugged at your lips, “Well, when you offer me something as grand as that, how could I possibly refuse?”

If it wasn’t for the slightly different damp patches and wallpaper peelings on the walls, it could have passed for your own floor. Getting to Jess’ apartment from the elevator was just like walking to yours, until you spot the door. The glass centred in the brown door is opaque, with the words ‘Alias Investigation’ printed onto it. You were pretty sure that wasn’t even remotely allowed in the building, but also weren’t about to question the ins and outs of Jessica’s war with the superintendent.

Jess unlocked the door, holding a hand out to let you pass through first. While the structure was the same as yours, it was definitely a different place. Comforting furniture was scarce, save for the sofa opposite the desk, which Jessica gestured towards. You sat, sinking into the cushions whilst she headed for the kitchen, switching on a lamp on the way. The warm bulb illuminated the grey walls, littered with what you assumed were case notes and photos.

A private investigator… somehow, all you can think is of course. It suited her perfectly, which made you wonder what qualified you to make that judgement. You couldn’t wonder for very long, as Jessica came back with a bottle of whiskey and nothing else. She sat right next to you, handing you the bottle.

“There aren’t any clean glasses.” She explains unashamedly, leaning right back into the couch. The smoky drink burns down your throat when you take a swig, a satisfying pop sounding out when your lips part from the neck of the bottle.

Then, there was the world’s most strangely comfortable silence, with only the occasional splash of amber liquid whenever it was passed between the two of you. With each turn, the brushes of skin got more tender, lasted for longer and took more breath away and before you knew it, the bottle was on the floor and you were both panting in each other's air. Your lips a hair away, Jess’ pale hand slowly reached closer and closer.

Maybe it was the buzz of whiskey, the burn of your throat, or maybe it was this tightening tension you weren't sure you could handle for much longer that made you so bold to find yourself here.

When the final space between your cheek and Jess’ fingertips was breached, the Earth stopped spinning. You could see it all, playing out as if the seconds were years and years spent between kindred souls. It all made sense, why everything was so weighted every time you encountered her, why you grinned every time you heard her curse from upstairs or the tightening of your chest when you thought about her crushing the pizza box into the trash. You two were always going to end up here, it was inevitable. You were supposed to be right here and grab onto Jessica Jones and never let her go.This was so much more than either of you could begin to comprehend, which overwhelmed you, stealing the floor from beneath you.

And then your lips were crashing together in a passionate frenzy, tongues dancing, fingers entangled in each other's flowing hair. She tasted like the whiskey, but with strong undertones of something you’d never tasted before. You were hooked.

Jessica pulled on your hair, lifting your chin to allow her access to kiss up and down your neck. A moan is pulled from you that just couldn’t be helped, but you don’t care. You were sure Jessica Jones had the ability to play a symphony with you. You couldn’t wait to hear it.

But you should wait. A nagging feeling pulls at your gut when Jess pushes your back down into the sofa. She was fumbling with your zip when your hands grabbed her wrists. Jess looked up at you expectantly, worry briefly crossing her expression, “You alright?”

You nodded quickly, your heart rate tripling when you realised how affected she was by the mere possibility that you were uncomfortable. She felt this too. You knew it more than you knew she was never awake before 11am, which you knew was an absolute.

“I’m good. I just… Can we just lay here for a bit?” You felt silly, a blush surely creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks, but it somehow felt like the only thing you could possibly fathom right now. As much as you were borderline desperate to witness her orchestrate more of this delicious experience, something told you not now.

The look of pure surprise, pulling Jess’ brows upwards sent a pang of regret running from head to toe. It dissipated when she nodded, so very obviously fighting a grin that told you that nobody had ever asked her to do that before.

“Budge over.” She demanded. You happily, eagerly obliged, shifting enough that Jess could slide underneath you. It was a tight squeeze, the sofa definitely not designed for anyone but its single owner, but that only meant you had to squeeze in close. Your head fit on her chest, the curve of your waist snuggling right up into her. She was radiating heat and you could feel her heart pounding. Yours was too.

You looked up, a light laugh escaping you unintentionally. Snaking her arm around your neck, Jess glanced down at you, “What?”

“It’s just like cloud gazing. That one looks like a turtle.” You explained, referring to the water stains on the ceiling. Jessica laughed (in the form of a sharp exhale through her nose).

“How romantic.” The sarcasm dripped from her voice, as did the amusement. Maybe it was a snap judgement, but when you first watched her massacre a pizza box, you never expected to be able to make her laugh as much as you had. It was a wonderful victory, if you did say so yourself.

Nothing sexual happened between the two of you that night, but it was quite possibly the most intimate thing that has ever happened to you. You talked, spotted animals and former presidents in the ceiling and fell asleep intertwined in each other.

Jess continued to save you again and again, in every way imaginable. But that was kind of your thing, saving each other until the end of time.

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