Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
noise dept.
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KIROKAZE
todays bird
JVL
will byers stan first human second
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@takenaturnleft
@frxgmcnts
biomerc gifset for you - you can totally see them as scenes non connected to each other, or as part of a random au because anyway each gif has happened somewhere
because I love you and I love our verses with them too and even when we don’t write them they are still happening in the background ok
@siinfvl continuing from X
He's hurting her a little with his grip, her body weakened from the last misadventures, but there is no way in hell she'll tell him that. Just like she will tell him that she's fine, her body is intact, even if she's in pieces inside, because he doesn't need that right now. Or ever. He's having nightmares and she can't blame him, after everything he has seen and done, and all Jemma wants is to wrap him in a blanket and hold him all night, then leave in the morning and never look back. She can't. In a future they are trying to change, she didn't. And because of that, one day in that future he might have started waking up alone in their bed, and she can't keep herself from thinking of how many nightmares did he have about her actual death then, with no one to take care of him, if she's the one who went down first, working on the bloody portal. Or maybe he did, and she had no one to hold, no one to make her laugh, until the day she died too.
"I'm not hurt at all... Here, let me put this away, so I can come closer..." she just has to push the laptop on the first available surface so she can move on his lap, straddling instead of sideways this time, so she can wrap herself around him. "Lay back, baby, we can hold each other here... it was just a bad dream," she brushes his hair comfortingly, and she can almost feel the way they are both going crazy, no idea of how to change their fate if they don't know what caused it, and knowing everything is leading up to it. He knows he can talk about his nightmare or not, so she just busies herself with little kisses over his face, making him feel she's still there. “I love you...”
* * / / crossing a blurred line with @whydoyouthinkileft
if there’s any care left to the fact that they aren’t really together, therefore he doesn’t need to come to her rescue every time she needs comfort, he’d have turned around and never have showed up in her doorstep. but two hours is a long time, an ample amount that can be spent trying to figure out what the two of them really are. and, in the end of it, the only realization he came to is that he cannot know she’s hurting and do nothing about it.
two hours and twenty minutes ; over two—thousand and three hundred miles…
that much distance and that much time, and the moment his gaze falls on her features, his brown orbs taking in the torment and the pain etched on the lines of her face, he’s glad he didn’t care about what he had to drop just to be there.
the conflict that should have gripped his heart at what’s happening doesn’t come. instead, as he settles on the bed, crawling under the blanket, opening his arms and holding her, there’s only the feeling that he’s done what he’s supposed to.
❛ i will, i’m right here, jem, ❜ he murmurs, pulling her as close as possible. his arm as her pillow, her head against his shoulder, his palm upon her cheek, he tilts her face up, so he can let his eyes settle on hers. his thumb is gentle as it brushes the apple of her cheek, concern soft on his lips as he leans forward to press a kiss on her forehead. ❛ i’ve caught you… ❜ to anyone else, the statement might not mean anything, but for the two of them, he hopes it means enough to lend her strength while she’s in his arms.
She looks at him, at the sincerity in his eyes, the expression on his face one that she'd have never expected to see in the Grant Ward she had known in the Bus, nor in the man she had seen a handful times afterwards, but that is so fitting now, with the person he shaped himself to be, and yet still so surprising when he's offering that comfort to her. His words bring back that time spent together in the Bus, when he had jumped off the plane to save her, the time she still isn't sure of what to think about, what she should feel about, but what makes them really special is the effort behind them, the attempt to show her she can count on him, and it's just adorable that he tried to communicate it through that phrasing. He's not even trying to joke, he's trying to be gentle, and she wonders if he realizes just how soft and sweet and lovable he's being.
"You are such a sweetheart," she murmurs, blinking back tears and sniffing pathetically, "I'm sorry for this, I'm just having a... a really bad week..." she nods a little as if to confirm it, that's all that it is, but she already knows that the mere fact she's admitting this while in the middle of being comforted after crying in her bed for hours will tell him how bad it must have been. "Really... really bad," she corrects with a trembling smile, and her hands moved to the side of his face, gently brushing his cheek, "I tried to move past it best I could but... I kept waiting for a moment when I could breathe again, not just this week, the whole month, months, it kept getting... I just-I thought at some point it was going to get a bit better again, you know? When everything started going wrong worse than usual, I thought soon it would take a turn for the better, but it didn't."
That's a lot of nonsense, and she wished she hadn't tried to open up. It was useless. What wasn't useless was the way he had ran to help. And yes, Harrison too, noticing and worrying enough to call him. "I hate being alone," she whispers, and then lifts her hand in a surrendering gesture, "I know, I know I deserve it, I know how I am, but I just... I can't... I don't like that they are all gone. I'm trying my best to keep everything together back at the base, but I barely see them face to face. Harrison and Joe have work to do. And you are so far..." she hadn't meant to include him in this but but now it's done, and she can only smile weakly, "But that's fine, when we do see each other everything is so much better... we always make it count, right? We ended up having a lot of missions together lately, that was lucky, it's always fun..."
“Shh, it’s okay. I’m right here.”
* * / / @whydoyouthinkileft is offering comfort…
it’s three days after getting back to the present that they finallyhad enough time and less insanity happening around them to catch some sleep.the whole time, he has been running on caffeine and adrenaline, reluctant tolet his eyes fall shut and for his consciousness to drift away, in fear of thehorrors he is certain will play behind his closed lids the moment he fallsasleep.
still, no matter how hard he has tried, even with the many decades hehad slept, frozen in space, his body gives up on him, and he finds himselfnapping on the small bed in one of the bunks they’ve been shown by noah themoment they arrived, with jemma sitting beside him, pouring over data on themonoliths that just exploded, melded together and cut a rift on… well… thefabric of reality.
as feared, he’s not been asleep a full half hour before he’s joltingawake, eyes wide with fear, a violent gasp filling his lungs as he sits up. hishands are shaking, mind still caught between the world of his nightmare andthis reality, and the first thing he does is look around, eyes searching jemma,terrified of the image from her nightmare of her being the victim of the diskblades. but instead of arms being cut off, her throat is open, deep red bloodbubbling from the slit.
he’s uncertain of what he does next or what unintelligible words heeven uttered, but what he is aware of next is her arms around him, and thosecomforting words tumbling from her lips as she holds him. if he tries to guess,he would assume he kept repeating something along the lines of… youwere dying… which, surely,will pull this kind of reaction from her.
against the wishes of his body, he pulls away from her, only enough sohis eyes can roam, the brown orbs falling on her neck, urged by the horrificnightmare he’s just hand, and then her face, every inch of skin he can see,just to ensure she has not been hurt anywhere else, any more than he hasalready been before.
❛ you’re not… you’re not hurt, are you ?? ❜ his breathing is ragged,gaze still wild, tremble still present on his limbs, and his hold on her,fingers around her biceps, are a lot tighter than his touch normally is.
frxgmcnts:
his heart skips a beat before it begins a fast march within the cages of his chest, emotions going haywire ———— an inexplicable event for him at this point, and one he’s not sure he should even linger on or figure out ———— at the way his name sounds when spoken by her ; and in reaction, he hums against her neck, lips light as he kisses her pulse point once more. he decides then, while content and comfortable with her in his embrace, that he likes it when she calls him grant.
❛ yes, baby ?? ❜ he asks, not able to prevent the slip—up once more, the openness fueled by the warmth coursing through his body. but the moment she continues, the surprise interrupts his train of thought. it’s enough to make him pull away from her, shock clearly etched upon the lines on his face, and ask, ❛ we can do that ?? you’re okay with it ?? ❜ for a moment, the voice in the back of his head is allowed to be heard, a nagging thought that reminds him they’re only hooking up. friends with benefits don’t do this. but though the voice is heart, the logic and reasoning it provides are not heeded. instead, they are ignored as he nods his head, feeling another wave of warmth coursing through him, awe beginning to replace the expression on his features at the realization that she’s allowing this to happen. she’s okay with it. that’s nice.
❛ i think… i think i’ll like that, yes. ❜
For a moment, his questions sound to her like trick ones. He's too surprised, he pulled back from her, and she thinks maybe she has found that line she was waiting for. She shrugs, as if to show it's not a big deal either way, but he's starting to look so pleased instead, and Jemma smiles, her turn to be openly confused, "It's... you, it's not like I'm doing this with a pizza delivery guy, of course I'm okay with it..." Even when she says 'of course' she's very aware not everyone is okay with it, especially when there is no dating behind it, but he's tugging at her heart-strings with that look on his face, and she's feeling needed in a way that has nothing to do with pain and blood, "Come here..."
She gets up but has taken his hand while standing, just for a moment to lead him so she doubts he'll mind if he's reacting this way to cuddles - and really, is he possibly being like this because he was in the mood and her clothes make it easier? She would wear sweaters instead of button ups when she knows he's coming over - so they can move to the bed together. "And I like it too," she points out, just in case it's needed, and it dawns on her that with how fast she left in the morning because of work there would hardly be way for him to be sure of it, and even then it was right after sex, a vulnerable time, and this, this is a bit weird, admittedly, just cuddling for the sake of cuddling, she doesn't do it, ever, and even if she did she wasn't sure it would be just for fun, how could she know? She pushes away a blanket, leaving only a sheet because they will make a cocoon of the former way too hot, and an even weirder thing is that she's hyper-aware that her hand isn't holding his anymore when she works on that, moving on the mattress and on her knees, "Lie down, I'll be right to you."
Which she is, really, with the energy of an overjoyed puppy, dropping the sheet somewhere near their hips because she's eager to hold his face and pepper it with kisses, pulling him closer. She's not sure if he wants to be on top, under her, or stay on the side, but she wants to give him a good cuddle even before he has decided for sure, wondering if he ever had a day dedicated to it. Men have strange ideas about what’s okay, after all.
frxgmcnts:
the time that passes as they wait for jemma to wake up extends to an eternity, one that he spends either pacing the length of her room or sitting down on the couch, elbows on his knees, hunched over, his hands running through his hair. if they even really managed to fool anyone that they were just hooking up and there was no emotional attachment to their arrangement, just the few hours of waiting for her to wake would have already erased all that. fortunately, he doesn’t really care anyway. all he cares about in that moment is for jemma to finally open her eyes and talk to them.
as the time passes and she doesn’t open her eyes, all he can do is turn his decision over and over in his head, to regret for the thousandth time his agreement to split up. he should not have let that happen. as he sits there, stressed and worried out of his mind, all he can think of is how bad an idea that was. the whole duration of the mission, he had been so absorbed in his thoughts, in his memories and his bitter past, thinking of nothing but his scorn for hydra, for bakshi, for this habit of hydra’s to brainwash people, flashing back to what had been done to kara, that it was all he could care about. he was so compromised, yet again, by his emotions, that he didn’t realize until it was too late that it was all a trap for jemma. and whatever has happened to her now, it’s all on him.
it seems to be forever before something truly happens, for her to rouse from her sleep, but the moment she does, he’s out of the couch and right by her bedside. he keeps quiet as the others beat him to talking to her, too late to react first as the glint of the handcuffs keeping her bound to the railing of the bed catches his eyes and he remembers once again how intensely he disagreed about that being done, but had inevitably given in as it’s a logical decision at this point.
the relief that allows him to breath for about a minute when she says she’s fine and just a little bit sore immediately gets replaced by ice around his heart. he feels it, the moment his heart froze over and fell with a loud, echoing thud, at the pit of his stomach, the moment it finally becomes clear that their worst fear about the situation has come true.
❛ no… ❜ is all he can muster, feeling suddenly weak at the knees, and he falls, unceremoniously, on the chair next to her bed. ❛ no… please tell me this is just some kind of awful joke. ❜ he knows she’s not the kind to joke about this. she does sometimes give horrible jokes about the things that happened to her, but she knows, personally, what this means to him, how dark that part of his life was, when he was fighting the brainwashing done on kara, and she wouldn’t toy on his feelings like this. but it’s all he can come up with, his denial bubbling in his chest, his words coming out as pleas, refusing to believe this could be reality.
“I don’t understand,” she says, looking from the tall one who just dropped on his knees, to the blond one who is pacing, a hand flailing, and then to the others, who all look distressed. Has she already done something wrong? “What am I supposed to do?” “Oh, Jemma, I’m so sorry...” the older man sounds like he’s speaking to someone else now, even if he’s looking at her, and she tilts her head, “Just... get some rest, we need to discuss-” Jemma has already moved to lay back again, and the man winces and “No, just-it’s not an order-” She frowns - Jemma? Is she Jemma? - “I don’t understand,” she repeats, “What are my orders, then?” There is an unpleasant sensation, it swirls in her stomach and leaves her unhappy, because no one is being clear and she needs a purpose. “Simmons,” the tallest man there, black, muscular, and surprisingly pleading-looking, takes a step forward, “Do you recognize anyone in this room?” she shakes her head, “Do you remember anything?” she shakes her head again, “But you are ready to follow orders?” a nod, a thankful one, from her, “Then your first order is to not hurt anyone here-” “Mack,” the older man admonishes with a look. “This is not time to worry about us being comfortable! We need to figure out a way to fix this but for now-look at her! She needs orders, she’s lost and almost begging for them, and she could hurt herself or us without them!” “I would never hurt any of you, I’m only here to do what you ask me to.” She’s still so grateful, the relief obvious in her smile, “What else can I do? Will I be rewarded?” “Yes, of course. But for now just... Don’t hurt anyone and... do your best to recover from the explosion, stay healthy. For when... we’ll need you to do something.” “Yes, sir,” she nods again, glancing at her handcuff, “I might need this removed to follow the orders.” The blond man is nearly there before she’s finished speaking to free her. She turns to look at the one who dropped sitting, the unhappy one, and her expression turns worried, teeth biting her bottom lip as she tilts her head a little and observes him. “You are displeased.”
frxgmcnts:
his head tilts sideways, further into her touch, a satisfied hum vibrating through him as he seeks out the warmth of her touch, thoroughly enjoying the way her fingers card through the hair at the back of his neck. with this much comfort coursing through him, his mind is numb with relaxation, he cannot understand how she can even worry that something is wrong. nothing’s wrong. absolutely nothing.
❛ everything’s just perfect, ❜ he murmurs contentedly as he feels the soft kiss she presses upon his skin, his breath catching in his throat as his heart begins to beat a fast cadence. ❛ let’s stay like this awhile ?? if it’s okay. ❜ once again, his head tilts towards her, snuggling his face further into her neck. gently, he presses a kiss underneath her jaw, his lips feeling the throbbing of her pulse that matches his. any meaning this might hold, however, is lost on him as he focuses on how nice her weight feels atop him with her warmth and her scent enveloping him.
She's so confused now, it's like he just melted against her, so gentle, so polite, so relaxed, returning her kisses with delicate ones to her neck; it's different. It's new. It's also Ward, and her heart speeds up even more. It's an odd combination of thrilling and nerve-wrecking, not understanding what's going on and potentially about to make mistakes and yet seemingly finding herself able to make him happy like that.
"Of course, we can always stay like this as long as you like," she promises, her hand starting to scratch the back of his head instead of brushing his hair, and then tries a bit more, other hand to his jaw, stroking his cheek and his neck. "Hey, Grant..." Oh, that sounds weird. And cute. It's dangerous. Not as dangerous as what she's about to say, though. "If you just want this... do you want us to lie down to do it? If you are in the mood, I can hold you better..." And how the bloody hell did they go from playful 'idiot' and sex to this in the span of a day, she has no clue.
grant & jemma.
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@frxgmcnts @siinfvl
They have just found out there is one last facility where a psycho is using recordings of Bakshi to reactivate the brainwashing in the subjects who have never been triggered, and of course both Phoenix and SHIELD have run to stop this. She can't even imagine how personal it must feel to Ward. And people know they are hooking up, they found out almost right away by accident but have also noticed they aren't exactly the best example of no strings attached, even just because they are friends, so they are divided between particularly willing to help and keeping an eye on her too, make sure she won't hurt herself. Thing is, the brainwashing is meant to fade. But only after being activated at least once. There are dormient soldiers who have no idea of what's in their heads, and can awaken either with orders or empty, waiting to receive them. It's awful. And the loud voices coming from the speakers keep repeating sentences over and over, though hardly get to finish because each of them is shooting them on sight. But they can't find the victims. The people meant to be brainwashed. So they split up, and she gives Grant a comforting pat on his arm, no time to speak.
“It's a trap! It's for Simmons!” Jemma hears over the comms, and she's almost sure she's supposed to do something, but all she can think about is the voice that keeps repeating the most important words she has ever heard, coming from the computer in front of her. “Find Simmons! It's a man who worked with her, go!”
There is a red light flickering in front of her, but Jemma keeps staring, her mind void of any fear now. Until vibrations destroy the computer, and the red light turns into an explosion and everything goes dark.
She wakes and pulls herself to sit, finding plenty worried faces around her, and a woman in leather asleep in a bed next to hers. “Daisy is okay. Are you okay?” a blond man asks, concerned, and it almost looks like he and a taller, dark haired one are about to push each other to get closer, but it's a woman who gets closest, to check her IV and vitals. “Yes, I'm fine,” she answers with a nod, and he looks cautiously relieved, “Sore.” “It was the explosion,” an older man says, and that's when she realizes she's handcuffed. Only one wrist, keeping her to the bed. She doesn't understand. She doesn't remember an explosion. But it doesn't matter much. “What are my orders?” “We should-what?” She feels at loss, and looks back at the blond man who seems petrified, and then at the tall one, “My orders. I will comply.”
frxgmcnts:
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jemma. ( @whydoyouthinkileft )
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what i can’t do… is protect you guys from stuff i can’t even see… or understand…
those are words he had once uttered, seemingly a lifetime ago, when speaking of a plague, a virus he could not battle to save jemma simmons. and even now, years later, even after he had learned and come to understand and be prepared for things he wouldn’t have even been able to imagine back when he first spoke that sentence, he still feels just as powerless, just as useless when one of his friends needs him the most. the only difference between then and now… is that back then, she fought a virus she, herself, could beat. but now, these memories that continue to fuel her trauma, the nightmares that keep plaguing her slumber, renders her just as helpless as they all are.
yet again, possibly for the third night in a row, he awakens to the sound of her screaming from her bunk in the zephyr, the one right next to his. and he wishes it were only the fact that the walls were paper thin that caused him to hear the anguished sounds. unfortunately, that’s not the case. even when the noises are muffled by the wall that separates them, he could still feel the fear clinging to her scream, the terror that carries to his ear and pulls the strands of his hair to stand on end. it’s clear then that whatever nightmare is haunting her, is a torturous one.
so for the first time since it’s started ———— or at least since he has started noticing it ———— he does something about it, the same urge to try and help her clinging to his bones, the same one that caused him to jump from the bus those years ago with absolutely no regard for his own life, or care for the fact that he can die with her.
it started off as a harmless plan, one born of innocence, of the pure desire to help. but it’s only after they’re cocooned together under the blanket, the worst of the storm now over as he begins to feel her the tension on her shoulders start to unravel, that things go south.
he can’t really tell what shifted the mood, what tipped the balance he has been careful not to disturb for years despite the yearning he’s come to feel for her soon after they’d gotten to really know each other in a way they never had the past year while he was undercover. but the next thing he knows, his palm is hot against her skin, clammy, as he pulls her to him just as close as she tugs at him, and the innocent kisses that they’ve shared, feather—light brushes of lips on cheeks and other harmless places, have now stepped into new territory.
her lips trail fire in their wake as they graze his neck, and all of a sudden, it’s too hot under the blanket, as if she has ignited a flame in his chest and even her attempts to douse it ———— a useless effort to swerve actions back to friendly territory ———— only fan it even further. in no time at all, he has rolled them both over, maneuvering under the blanket, pushing her gently on her back, his elbow propping himself up as he hovers over her, and his hand that’s found a perch on her thigh has assisted in ensuring that once she’s on her back, his landing will fit perfectly with hers. in the next heartbeat, she’s trapped underneath him, his hard body, sharp angles and firm muscles, pinning her soft curves in ways they’ve never fitted before. and those thighs are now clamped on either side of his hips, kept in place by the hand that now grips her knee, pressing down to coax her to grip his hips tighter.
his breath fans the space between them in short bursts, each exhale punctuated by another centimeter he crosses as he stares at her intently, brown eyes now darkening with want that he can no longer hide, until his eyelids flutter and his gaze falls on her lips. with slow but decisive movements, he leans down, catching her lower lip between his teeth, and tugs the bit of flesh, his tongue teasing the point where his teeth bite on her lip.
She really has no choice, not after his lips tug at her lip to invite her to kiss him, giving her the chance to unleash everything she has been holding in; she makes a small, needy sound and pushes herself upwards, presses her lips against his harder and licks, steals a moment to suck on his bottom lip, drags him down with hand in his hair and kisses him again and again and again, unable to decide what she wants to try next, overwhelmed by all the possibilities; she likes him, she likes him in ways she hasn't liked anyone before, too many to decide what she wants - needs - to do next, and she helplessly follows every urge.
Fingers close on his hair, nails dragging down his scalp, but her other hand roams under his shirt to feel his back, and her thighs are holding him in place, a small moan coming from her as she uses that grip to grind against him, the soft fabric of her pajama allowing her to feel more friction than thicker trousers would even if not even nearly enough.
She doesn't know if he'll allow that but she has to try, she has to pull at his hair, and she has to explore his mouth with her tongue, slowly, a dirty kiss that if possible ignites her even more. He has a good hold of her so he can help her move or stop her if it's too far, but she grinds again, and again, just to feel him harden against her, craving to touch him in every possible way. Her heart almost beats out of her chest, and she wants to keep kissing him, make sure he won't even think of saying no, that he'll be feeling too good to care about anything else. Even just a little longer.
frxgmcnts:
he has been staring ( A LOT ) since they came in and his eyes laid on her, something that even his men are able to notice ; which, quite frankly, he’d have also realized if he had been paying attention to anyone and anything else other than jemma. but as it is, he’s clueless as to how obvious he is, even as he throws glances at her ———— not in a way that holds malice or anything, thankfully ; but in a way that gives everyone that’s noticed the idea that they should leave as soon as they can.
brown eyes follow her, peeking through his lashes every time he looks up from what he’s reading out of instinct as if his need to gaze at her is too much to resist. and his hands itch every time his brown orbs fall on how she looks, his sense of touch craving the feel of her soft skin, made more stark by the gentle colors of the clothes she wears. his fingers long for the feel of her hair between them, the soft curls, the shiny strands.
so, really, the decision is easy when it’s time to go, the excuse to stay slipping past his lips as easy as breathing. and the moment she sits on his lap, finally within his reach as they’re caged in the bubble of their privacy, her weight comforting atop him, he releases a sigh he hasn’t realized he’s been holding. the effect of her touch is like being able to breathe again after a while of suffocating, like feeling that relief that comes from finally seeing the sun after days of a raging storm. and like a thirsty man, he does not deny himself the taste of water.
❛ hi, ❜ he replies back, his voice low and soft as his eyes roam her face, taking in every feature of her face from up close as if for the first time. of their own accord, his arms snake around her, fully around her as she sits sideways on his lap while one hand settle on the dip of her waist and the other draped over her thigh, holding tight, as if he’s trying to let his touch burn through the material of her clothes and onto her skin. ❛ yeah, this feels… really nice. ❜ still distracted, he speaks his mind without filter as he moves closer, diving more into her personal space, hiding his face in the crook of her neck, surrounding himself with her warmth, with the sweet smell of her perfume underlined by the scent of her body wash that still lingers in her skin. and, unbidden, he thinks. it’s nice to be home…
Okay, she was expecting him to say something funny in return after she called him her favourite chair, no, even something sexual, and instead he sounds soft in a way that makes her heart beat harder. He not only accepts her attempt to be more affectionate, but pulls her closer like he just wants to hug her.
Tentatively, she lifts a hand and touches his neck, letting it slide up to his hair, stroking it gently with her fingertips as he rests his face against her neck. She's going to get a heart attack, but it would be such a nice way to die. This is a way more positive response than what she was expecting, and she notes to herself that she should sit on his lap more often. "Everything alright, baby?" she asks just as softly, placing a kiss on the first inch of skin left uncovered by his collar, the easiest one to reach. If he has a problem with her calling him that outside of sex - or of mocking - and freaks out, she can just say that she thought he’d like it. She’s still trying to understand where is the line with him, the one not to cross, and she can’t seem to find it.
@frxgmcnts
Ward and his team needed a quick biochem's hand to solve a problem, so Jemma has invited them to her place, it's just ten minutes and then she can send the results to their lab; she fully expects Ward to come up with an excuse to stay longer - because he has been there before a few times, and not for work. But he keeps looking at her, and she guessed it's because she had come home from work so she let her hair down, a messy curl, and wore an old fuzzy sweater and yoga pants and looks, well, unprofessional and therefore weird. But he got increasingly tactile - cuddly - the last couple of times, so when he does send the others off, she drops to sit on his lap, a position he seems to like when he tries to hold her longer in the morning, and gives a cautious try to reciprocating his unprompted attentions. She pulls the doe eyes too, in case it helps. "Hi. I was starting to miss my favourite chair."
frxgmcnts:
a nod is his response to her words, his teeth digging into his bottom lip, a determined look flashing on his face as she tells him she’ll come with him if it’s not going to interfere with her saving their friends lives. he’s been told so many promises about staying or coming back to him that he’s familiar with the need to guard his heart. he’s hoping for the best, but expecting the worst in that regard. if they have to part one day, well… they’ll work on a long—distance relationship until she can actually quiet shield without too many repercussions. for now, she’s told him she wants to stay with him, she’ll come back to him, and the will to do so, the determination to keep him ———— it’s what he holds on to.
❛ we’ll do all that, everything that we can. but for now, you come back to me, that’s the priority. whatever happens later will happen, what matters to me first is that i get you back in one piece, eh, love ?? ❜ he lifts their clasped hands, pressing a kiss to her knuckles as enoch makes his presence known, and even with the chronicom now in the same room as them, a reminder of what needs to happen now, he still makes the most of the last seconds they have, he pulls her closer for a kiss, latching his lips on hers for a slow, firm one ———— a wordless utterance of the promise he’s given her earlier.
**********
it’s been two weeks, five days and twelve hours ( not that he’s been counting, really ) since jemma left in a cryo—freeze chamber and been brought by enoch to that spaceship orbiting the earth to wait for the right time to save their friends. during the first week, he’s found enough hobbies and pasttimes ———— from playing with robin to talking to the girl’s mother, to trying to get noah, their new chronicom guard, to loosen up a bit ———— to not bother enoch by contacting him on the satellite line the non—human has created to keep them connected every two hours just to check if there’s been any changes and to ensure that jemma’s sleep is going as swimmingly as it can. but now, into the third week of wait, and he’s running out of things to distract himself with.
he’s just on the comms device with enoch, checking, for the tenth time that day, if everything is going well, and the chronicom is once again telling him, predictably enough, there’s been no changes with jemma… when he hears the noise.
it’s an underground base with metallic walls, so, naturally, you hear everything that happens. there was some weird noise, somewhat like a crack, and then random clanging noises like someone banging against something, and the noise makes him run towards the source, worrying him that something might have happened. his hand moves to the gun on his belt, ready in case someone managed to find them. only, he’s not ready for what he sees when he rounds the corner.
"It's me. I don’t know if I can promise to be in one piece, but I'll do my very best," Jemma promises, and there is a light flush on her cheeks because Enoch has arrived and saw them, but Hunter pays no attention to him and pulls her in for kiss instead. There is something in the way he calls her 'love' with that warm voice of his that she simply adores, and the kiss is just as heartwarming. Of course she'll do her best.
But it's hard, because when she arrives and plays Marauder, with soft-spoken cold words that make her think of Hive, Kasius is immediately creepy about her and her beauty. She also needs time as a guest there, feigning interest on Earth and its potential, to find the rest of the team that has been hiding and plotting. Daisy has been caught and her powers turned off after she tried to save an inhuman girl, Fitz and the others have been working like slaves, and it's a mess. But they make it home - she gets shot once, and she runs to help Mack against Kasius because Elena isn't back yet but gets almost murdered with him because Kasius went into monster-mode somehow, black eyes and rabid, and she wasn't prepared. So much for in one piece. Still, they are back, and she runs to look for Hunter, not sure of what level they are in right now but he needs to know they made it back, and she needs to know how long it has been for him, if he's still there, if he hasn't changed his mind, and then she almost bumps into him and gasps. He's even better than she remembers, and she jumps with her arms over his neck, hurting herself very, very badly since her gunshot wound collided with him and she just got slammed around by a crazy Kree, but laughs breathlessly and gives him a delighted "Hi!" before pulling back to look at him with a wide smile, giving him a quick firm peck, and beaming at the sight: "Hi..."
frxgmcnts:
❛ now, that’s just rude. that’s the only time you liked me ?? i jumped out of a plane without a parachute on and went superman for you. does that not count for anything ?? ❜ this time, when he smiles at her, it’s not sarcastic, nor is it a teasing one. it’s a real, genuine smile. ❛ and you’ve patched me up a lot of times now. you like me, you can’t even deny it. ❜ because that’s what they do with each other, isn’t ?? he saves her, she saves him. every once in a while one falls, and the other does the catching. other times, the table is turned.
with jemma as his company, seeing as she’s not making any move to leave even if she’s foregone actually working out, he assumes he’d have no need for the music this time. so, with that, he moves to begin exercising. since she doesn’t seem to be in need of the pull—up bar anymore, he positions himself under it, and adjusts the height. he had done his warm up in his room, anyway, he’s ready to begin. once adjusted, he starts doing the reps, keeping a conversation with her while at it. she criticized his need of distraction through music during exercise ?? now she is going to be his distraction.
❛ i don’t need to hope if i already know for sure that it’s happening, baby. ❜ and with his arms folding as he hoists himself up, he turns to her, exertion barely obvious on his expression, and winks at her.
"No, you are right. I do like you when you jump off planes without a parachute." She doesn't add the final 'on' and smiles, "Do feel free to get on a plane and then jump." It's exactly what she was about to say before picking the time when he got hit by a wrench, but ditched it because too mean. Her mistake.
She steps back to give him more space, her smile widening, "You like me more anyway, you are the one who gets himself shot just so I'll patch you up and you'll get to spend time coddled and in my company. It's also why you jumped, you keep following me around. It's flattering, really." She has already scanned his body once, which is exactly what he wanted so it's not creepy, and memorized the way it looks that day, so she steps around him - and purposefully pulls at his earphones so that they'll drop and swing against his arm in the most annoying way possible.
The punchbag is free, May showed her how to hit it right, so she puts on the gloves left with the rest of the equipment, faster than dressing her fingers since it's not like she has to go through a whole training session, she just needs something else to do, and then starts punching. May told her she's already surprising good at 'focusing her anger' on it. Really, she just has to let herself go and anger is all there is to vent. "It's also adorable that you are so into me, you even know I listen to music in the morning. What do you do, hide behind your door to hear me walk by?"
frxgmcnts:
his head shakes, immediately correcting her on what she has understood from his words. ❛ i’m not asking you to leave shield for me, love, ❜ he’s made that mistake before, asking someone to leave this organization behind, and it did not end well for him. this time, he’s choosing his battles carefully. ❛ i’ll be staying. i mean, i’ll… probably have to leave once you’ve cleared your names and shield is official again. ❜ he has no idea how long it’ll be before that happens, and he cannot let himself put his life on pause, afraid of when he’d have to leave. if he has to, one day, then he will. but until then, he’ll live his life first, live it the way he wants to. ❛ but i’ll stay, i’ll wait for you, and once you’re back, i’ll be here to help you… stop the end of the world or whatever help you might need from me. ❜
he pauses, then, moving his hands to her hands now, taking them off his face, so he can hold them both. there’s a big possibility she doesn’t fully understand what he means with his words, and, by experience, he’s done just leaving things to chance, he’s done implying what he wants to happen. it’s a yes or a no from here on out, and whatever is left and he’s allowed to have, he’ll learn to accept it. ❛ and while we’re doing that… i want to be with you. properly. we wouldn’t actually be able to go out and have dates because, well, you’re… most wanted. but… if you’d want to, would you go out with me ?? be my girlfriend too, not just… friend with benefit. ❜
She's almost disappointed he's not asking her to quit with him. Almost. She knows it's a crazy feeling, but she's so tired of that life, even if it must be done to keep the world safe she can't keep fighting like that. And Hunter, oh, with him life felt so easy even in the middle of chaos. There is so much talking about how love is supposed to wreck you or something like that, but honestly, she just needs someone who can make her feel at home, and like she doesn't have to try too hard. She wants to be herself, and sit down, relax, smile, she doesn't want drama. Which is also confusing then, to think of what Hunter is asking her, since it seems he prefers that kind of relationship over their quiet. Though she did shag him everywhere around the base and they had a food fight once so that's less quiet.
The thought of him staying is beautiful, the thought of him leaving again is horrible. After he did, the world got even worse.
He's asking her out, and to be his girlfriend, as if they aren't past being so formal, and that's just both cute and heartbreaking in some way. "Yes, I'd love that," she whispers, "But if our friends' lives aren't in danger, if their lives don't depend on it, I mean... if you'll have to go I'll come with you." And she's really, really scared that she's not only accepting something too big but also making one more unrequested step towards commitment when she might let him down by dying in the future. How is she supposed to point this out when Hunter is asking her to be his girlfriend? So she just smiles, letting herself be confident by focusing on the possibilities she has before her eyes if she only survives. "I'll do everything I can to come back to you. And we'll find a way to go out, whatever you'll want."
frxgmcnts:
with the controls of the jet automatically set, their destination programmed, and the communications tower from the base taking care of the rest, he can, for the time being, focus on jemma, especially since whatever lightness or relief that she has felt earlier when he broke her out has now gone from her façade, replaced once more by worry and concern for the rest of her team.
it’s not like he can really blame her for being worried. she was caged, imprisoned for months, no news of her team. and then the one person who had managed to get her out, her last hope of finding out where shield is…. has no answers to offer. at the thought, he feels guilty, a pang squeezing his chest at the realization that he’s disappointing her for not having any more answers. he feels too guilty that even when she begins telling him that it’s good to see him and starts thanking him for the things he’s done before, he feels undeserving of the gratefulness that he receives, as if accepting it would be an insult seeing as… he’s only achieved one thing and he’s no closer to finding a lead to where her team is.
so, instead, he reaches out, taking her hand in his instead, the expression on his face determined and firm. ❛ don’t thank me yet, we’re not done. we’ll find your team, and then you can thank me. ❜ the way they are with each other, they aren’t very touchy—feely. they don’t do the comforting touches without relying on their sarcasm as a fallback. but this time, when he holds her hand, tight and firmly in his calloused one, his thumb brushes her knuckles as if he’s soothing her, easing away her worries with just those simple strokes. he’s not stupid enough to believe they might actually have an effect. but he has to, at least, try. ❛ we found footage of what happened at the diner, or at least outside. there’s a big gap where all electronics have been turned off, and my team are still trying to figure out how that’s even actually possible, but we might have found something. it may be a lead, or it may not be, we still don’t know. we were… hoping you’d help figure that out, actually. ❜
"No," she says, and she's not trying to be stubborn for once; in fact, she sounds anxious, and turns to face him while grabbing the hand that is on top of hers, pressing it against her knuckles, "I mean, yes, we'll look for them, but I want to thank you now, okay? We don't know what's going to happen, I could disappear any time, I might never see you again for all I know, so I have to thank you now." Because his replica in the Framework was gone by the time she came back to the base after fighting Alistair, and she never saw him again. Erased from existence.
In real life, everything is starting to point to her being the one who will eventually erased. Everything keeps pulling her away from everyone she knows in new, creative, horrible ways, and she's getting more and more hurt each time.
"I missed you," she states firmly, as if it's just an objective statement to make like 'six is more than five', as if it's something they'd normally say to each other. "And I really liked... whatever we were doing in the past months, I had such a good time even when work was upsetting me, and I can't stand the idea that something else might happen to me and you'll never know how I feel about you."
