#phillip coulson: tights

[guardiansgamora]

continued from here || @coulsonsshield

Gamora saw the reaction, as subtle as it was, that small flinch that came with looking at her. It was something she had gotten accustomed to on this planet and frankly, it wasn’t much different from the way people reacted to her when they realized that she was a Daughter of Thanos. Wherever she went, trouble was often close behind, following her like a plague after she betrayed Thanos.

So, this man’s reaction to her? Gamora didn’t hold it against him.

“A short time ago, yes,” Gamora replied with a small nod, her body was stiffer than usual. He was a man in a suit – and the way he spoke vaguely reminded her of the Nova Corps. The last thing she wanted here was an incident. (And she knew the rest of the Guardians would never let her live it down if she was the first one arrested.) “Unless you went to my planet twenty-seven years ago, you would not have. I am the last of my kind,” Gamora said. Though she wasn’t sure if that would put the man at ease or not – talking about it certainly didn’t put her at ease.

[thewidowsghost]

Sunshine - Daisy Johnson x Romanoff!Reader

Main Masterlist

imapotatao asked:

Hey! I have a Daisy Johnson x reader request. When being sent to the future, Daisy and Reader meet their grandchild. Said grandchild is brought back with deke, they have no idea that they are their grandchild until something happens to reader and they think she won't make it. Or the grandchild says something that reader always says and Daisy puts it together. (That make sense? God, I hope so. Sorry it's long.)

Daisy Johnson leans against her girlfriend, as (Y/n) Romanoff shovels pancakes into her mouth, her fiery red hair making a curtaining plate as she eats.

"You know," Phil Coulson says, eating his own food. "I think this is really the first time we've all been together in a really long time."

(Y/n) hums in agreement, swallowing another huge bite of pancake and May smiles warmly at Coulson.

(Y/n) lets out a whine as Daisy steals a bite of pancake from her, and everyone - Mack, Elena (Yo-yo), May, Coulson, Daisy, and FitzSimmons - laugh.

"Why do you always have to steal my pancakes, Sunshine?" (Y/n) asks her girlfriend, a frown on her face.

"You know you love me," Daisy replies, gazing fondly at her girlfriend. Daisy grins mischievously, taking another bite from (Y/n)'s plate.

(Y/n) blinks affectionately at Daisy. "I do," she murmurs in Daisy's ear.

"Anybody have room for some pie?" a waitress asks

(Y/n) drops her fork in excitement as the others murmur their agreement.

"Okay, so we have apple, strawberry, rhubarb, and chocolate banana cream," the waitress continues, looking amused at the excited expression on (Y/n)'s face.

There is a crackle of electricity, and the diner powers down.

There is a whir of electricity, and all the SHIELD agents sigh as lights appear outside the restaurant, resembling headlights.

"Here we go," May grumbles.

A door slams open, and some of the other customers gasp.

(Y/n) looks sadly down at her plate of pancakes before, simultaneously, the agents sit up straighter, lifting their hands into the air.

"Phillip J. Coulson," A man with a calm voice says, appearing behind said man.

"Yep, that's me," Coulson says with an eye roll, his eyes fixed on his own plate. "You got us. Nice job. And hey, congrats on the whole power-outage thing," he adds. "It was very . . . ominous."

A device powers on, and there is an actual ominous high-pitch ringing noise.

"The window closes in less than two minutes," the calm voiced man says. "Take them."

. . .

All seven agents gasp as they finally regain their breath.

Daisy sneaks her hand into (Y/n)'s, interlocking their fingers as the agents look around the dark room.

"Is everyone okay?" Coulson asks.

"Yeah, I think so," Mack replies.

Looking around the room, Simmon's eyes fall on a white rock with red lines running through it.

The Monolith melts into a white sludge, like solidified milk, and washes over the seven agents.

. . .

When (Y/n) blinks, she finds herself standing beside, not Daisy, but a woman who looked a lot like her older sister, Natasha. The same splash of freckles across her nose and cheeks, the same fiery red hair, but she had familiar chocolate brown eyes, but (Y/n) shrugs off the younger woman's - she may have been twenty or twenty one - appearance for a moment.

"You," The woman turns to address (Y/n). "We've been waiting for you to come save us."

(Y/n) tilts her head questioningly.

"You must be (Y/n)," the woman continues and (Y/n) nods.

"How do you know me?" (Y/n) asks, frowning slightly.

The young woman replies, "Virgil and I always believed the stories."

"Believed what?" (Y/n) asks. "What stories?"

"Well, this one," she answers. "T-that you would - you would come and save us."

"Save who?" (Y/n) narrows her eyes.

"Humanity," the younger redhead answers, looking grim.

. . .

Coulson, Yo-yo, Simmons, and Mack are running down a hallway, Yo-yo shooting at one of the aliens chasing after them.

There is a rumbling, and Daisy Johnson is framed in the corridor where the alien had just been - it had been exploded.

"Right?" Daisy asks shakily.

"Yes, that was right," Coulson replies, "and not the only one."

Daisy looks around at the group, noticing the two missing bodies. "Where's (Y/n)? And May?"

. . .

Coulson, Yo-yo, Simmons, and Mack stalk cautiously behind Daisy, who walks with her hand out, ready to strike.

"This has to be the coolest we've ever looked," Coulson comments.

. . .

"My friend should be here somewhere," (Y/n) comments as the two redheads walk down one of the corridors.

There is an intersection and (Y/n) crashes into a familiar, shorter figure.

"Whoa," (Y/n) says as her girlfriend scrambles to her feet, raising her hand defensively.

"Hey," Daisy says, looking relieved, wrapping (Y/n) in a tight hug.

"Hi, Sunshine," (Y/n) says so softly that no one else but Daisy could hear.

"I suppose I'll leave you here, then," the younger redhead says.

"Thanks -" (Y/n) pauses, not knowing the younger woman's name.

"Natalie," Natalie replies.

"Thank you, Natalie," (Y/n) nods.

Natalie turns and walks off, looking around cautiously, leaving (Y/n) with her friends.

"Seems like it's just a lot of work just to keep this place afloat," Coulson comments, looking at the walls.

"But it's designed for humans to survive -" Simmons says. "Atmosphere and simulated gravity - and machinery seemed to be for reclaiming water, I think."

"Yeah, it looks man-made," Coulson agrees.

"Could possibly be a colony?" Simmons wonders aloud. "Moving mankind to the stars? Maybe that's what Virgil meant by 'humanity,'" Simmons goes on.

"That's what Natalie said, too," (Y/n) says. "Said she and Virgil had been waiting for us to arrive."

"I don't know," Coulson says. "That plasma gun wasn't man-made, and I don't think they could've built this place without some outside help. It's got some serious miles on it."

"Decades it looks like," (Y/n) comments, "but that means that this program had to have been started in the eighties by Howard Stark. And that doesn't feel right. Tony would've mentioned something."

"Yo-yo found something," Mack says, appearing out of the gloom.

(Y/n), Daisy, Coulson, and Simmons follow Mack, and they find a flare still lit on the ground.

As the group walks up to the flare, it goes out, and Coulson frowns.

The group lines up in front of the door, stepping back.

(Y/n) steps forward and kicks down the door.

The agents walk into the room, catching sight of the dead men on the floor.

Daisy sighs heavily. "Nothing," she says.

"Nothing alive," Yo-yo says.

(Y/n) kneels down, studying the fresh blood on the ground.

"Hey," Coulson says, noticing the blood, as well as Melinda May's jacket.

"They didn't get to her, did they?" Yo-yo asks, looking rather concerned.

"May would've put up a fight," (Y/n) replies.

Coulson nods. "And they left the other bodies here," Coulson adds.

"'Water reclamation,'" Daisy reads off a computer screen.

"You were right, Jemma," Coulson says.

"I figured it out using magic," Simmons replies, glancing at Mack with an amused gleam in her eyes.

Mack shakes his head, not looking the least bit amused.

The console beeps and Daisy leans over the computer. "I can try and find out a layout and track May," Daisy says.

"It's in English," Simmons says. "They're tracking debris fields called 'frozen oceans'."

Daisy types on the computer, and there is a silence that is only disturbed by the clacking of a keyboard.

"They're collecting water form ice in space," Simmons says and she and Daisy look up from the computer. "This is a colony."

"Which means unless they all came through a Monolith . . . " Coulson trails off.

"Then we're close enough to Earth for people to travel here," Daisy looks back down at the computer.

"And we can get home," (Y/n) says.

"Yes, bu just as important," Simmons adds, "collecting ice means they have a spacecraft, and if they have a spacecraft, they must have a laser-based rapid-transmission system," Simmons rambles. "If we can find the ship and fly above the debris field . . ."

"We can send a message," Coulson finishes.

"We can send a message to Fitz back on Earth," Simmons goes on.

"Okay, okay, so if I can find a layout, find a ship, find May, it's a start," Daisy says. "This interface looks similar to -"  the monitor beeps, and (Y/n) leans down to read the message, her hand resting on the small of Daisy's back.

"'Human access denied'?" (Y/n) reads.

"Coulson, do you recognize this language?" Daisy asks.

"No," Coulson replies, leaning forward to look at the hand print. "I don't think humans are running this place after all."

There is a thud on the door and (Y/n) moves her hand to rest on Daisy's waist.

The door bursts open and two blue aliens step into the room, through the doorway.

The aliens attack Yo-yo, and knock her to the ground and (Y/n) advances but one of the blasters smacks her in the ribs and she hits the wall, sliding down it with a gasp of pain.

Mack tries to knock down one of the aliens with a metal pipe, but the alien doesn't gall down.

The other blue alien raises a staff and a white light floods through the room, knocking everyone in the room out.

. . .

When Daisy comes to, she blinks deliriously, but she focuses herself faster when she hears yelp of pain from (Y/n).

Sitting up, Daisy blinks again, looking at Simmons who is wrapping a cloth around (Y/n)'s ribs.

"Thankfully they're not broken," Simmons says, tightening the cloth.

"Sure feels like it," (Y/n) mutters.

"Are you okay?" Daisy asks, looking worried.

"Don't worry, Sunshine," (Y/n) replies, wincing a little, but Simmons and Coulson share a look of amusement. "I'll be alright."

Daisy softens before looking at the rest of the jail. "Mack?" she asks. "Yo-yo."

One of the Kree says, "We'll leave the transgressors on the floor chief?" He pauses. "To use as he needs."

Daisy swallows thickly, glancing at (Y/n).

"He should be interested that they've removed their Metrics," the Kree continues.

Daisy stands up and stumbles over to the doors. She slams her hand against the door. "Hey," she says, her words slurring a bit. "What are you gonna do with our friends?" she questions and (Y/n) gets to her feet, her arm resting on her bruised ribs.

(Y/n) puts her other hand on Daisy's shoulder, squeezing gently.

"Whatever we want," one of the Kree says. "Experiment. They knew the rule, and they broke it."

"They're not gonna make it easy for you," Daisy says, her eyes watering.

The two Kree walk towards the door, and (Y/n) gently pulls Daisy back.

"No," the Kree replies. "They'll beg for their lives as you humans always do. I've done twenty-two rotations and I have never observed anything else."

(Y/n) swallows thickly. She takes Daisy's hand and leads her back over to the bench. "They'll be alright, Sunshine," (Y/n) murmurs. "They're strong, the two of them." Daisy turns to study (Y/n), but even though (Y/n)'s words were meant to keep Daisy from worrying, but (Y/n)'s eyes betrayed her words.

. . .

"Okay," Coulson says. "New plan."

"The Kree have been abducting humans to this outpost for years," Simmons offers.

"Running experiments?" Daisy asks, pacing the room, and (Y/n) furrows her eyebrows.

"Well, their genetic work in creating Inhumans is well-known," Simmons says. "Maybe they're doing more of the same."

(Y/n) frowns.

"Yeah, well I'm not going to wait around to find out," Daisy says, raising her hand at the door. "So . . ."

She falters as the door opens, and three figures are framed in the door.

"May," Coulson says, taking a stop forward.

The older SHIELD agent is leaning against a familiar red haired woman, and a spiky haired young man beside them.

"Buddy!" the young man says, stepping into the room. "Just go with it," he whispers. "We've been looking everywhere for you guys," he says in a normal voice. "Man. What a mess back there, huh?" he asks. "These poor suckers," the young man turns to look at the Kree. "Virgil - you know, from R&R? He was trying to scam these guys out of some tokens. This one," he turns to May, "came running to me begging for help, the poor thing. When I get my hands on that no-good louse, he's gonna have some explaining to do."

"Where is Virgil, anyway?" Natalie asks.

"He's dead," Coulson replies.

"Good," Natalie says after a moment of silence. "Good," she turns to the Kree.

"He got what he deserved then," the young man agrees, nodding to Natalie, "didn't he, for trying to drag these poor transfers up from Processing into the Wet Works," he grabs Coulson's hand, showing it to the Kree, "just to steal their Metrics."

"So, he's just Roach food then?" Natalie asks.

"Oh, yeah," Coulson replies.

"One more vacancy, right?" the man asks.

"That's what I was gonna say," Coulson agrees.

"Guys," the young man stammers.

"What did we tell you about trusting Virgil?" Natalie asks.

"She's right, we did go over this. What did we say?" the young man adds.

"Don't trust Virgil," Simmons says.

"N-not to trust him," Daisy says simultaneously, her arms crossing.

"God, you repeated it back to us," the young man says, "and we said back - it was like a pass-and-catch thing."

"Look," Natalie turns to the Kree. "We really appreciate your help with these guys, but I can take them off your hands, even slip a few tokens your way for your trouble."

There is a moment of pause and the Kree warrior nods.

"Right, let's go," the young man says, and (Y/n) lets out a soft sigh.

Daisy keeps close to (Y/n) as the two walk down the hall after Natalie and the young, spiky-haired man at her side, May and Coulson in front of (Y/n) and Daisy.

"Don't worry, Sunshine," (Y/n) murmurs, soft enough for only Daisy to hear. "I'll be alright."

Daisy's chocolate brown eyes soften, the corner of her eyes crinkling cutely. "I love you," she says softly, and (Y/n) smiles.

"I love you too, Sunshine," (Y/n) replies softly.

The group stops as the young man and Natalie look down the hall.

"What the hell happened to Virgil?" the young man beside Natalie asks. "The Roaches get him?"

"Sorry to say," Coulson replies. "Was he a friend?" Coulson asks.

"Acquaintance," the spiky-haired man replies. "He owed me a ton of tokens for this job."

"Job?" Simmons asks.

"Deke!" Natalie says, smacking the young man.

Deke looks at Natalie before her replies, "All he said was that he wanted to hide some people. That's not unheard of. So I was hired to supply the Metrics and swap them out," Deke grabs Daisy's wrist and (Y/n) narrows her eyes, "but you guys don't even have Metrics,  which means you don't have the tokens to cover Virgil's end, so have fun."

(Y/n) wraps an arm around Daisy's waist, and Deke lets go of Daisy's wrist.

"Hey, wait, wait," Daisy says as Deke turns around. "We need your help. We need to find our friends," Daisy goes on

"Your friends?" Deke asks and Natalie glances warningly at him. "Your friends attacked a Kreeper. They're as good as gone. Those blues are bred to kill," Deke looks around, "so, so just - you make your peace with it."

(Y/n) pulls Daisy back a little as Deke looms over her.

"We'll take our chances," Coulson replies, and Deke looks over at him. "Listen, if you could just help us find them and then get to the spacecraft -"

"You mean the Trawler?" Natalie asks, looking surprised. "To do what?" she questions.

"The only pilot I knew was Virgil," Deke add, "and may he rest in peace," Deke shrugs, "apparently. So best of luck to all you guys, but mine's running out."

"Jeez Deke," Natalie smacks the man's arm and (Y/n)'s eyes flare with amusement.

"Well, Deke," Coulson says, "we just wanted pie, and now we don't know where we are or what's going on, and we finally found someone who does, so you're not walking away."

"I really wanted the pie," (Y/n) says wistfully.

Then the group stiffens as they hear Yo-yo screaming in pain.

May moves forward, twists a knob, and Deke rises of the ground, and sticks to the wall.

(Y/n) glances appreciatively at the older agent.

. . .

Daisy cracks through the pad, May, Natalie, Coulson, and (Y/n) standing behind her.

"All set," Daisy says.

"Good job," (Y/n) says, her eyes twinkling lovingly.

"Express train to the bottom of the Lighthouse, no stops," Daisy says, her hand coming up to brush against the inhibitor in her neck.

Natalie, May, and Coulson walk through the doors, and (Y/n) goes to take Daisy's hand, but Daisy steps back.

"Daisy?" (Y/n) asks, looking at her girlfriend questioningly.

"I'm not coming with you," Daisy says.

"Like hell!" (Y/n) says, frowning and glaring at her girlfriend.

"I know you're scared about going home," Coulson says, (Y/n) still fuming.

"No, I'm terrified," Daisy replies. "Look around. Billions of people gone. If there's a chance I'm the cause . . . I can't go."

"We can get through this together," May says.

(Y/n) looks away, a hurt expression crossing her face.

"You don't even have your powers anymore," May goes on.

"It's only a matter of time, and you know it. If there's an emergency or if one of you are in danger, I will need them, and we will find a way," Daisy argues. "If I go through that portal, you know it's the beginning of the end."

"We don't even know you did this," Coulson says, Daisy's eyes welling with tears.

"I was right in the epicenter," Daisy replies.

"I won't let you sacrifice yourself," Coulson says, "because you're scared of what's to come."

"What's to come is the end of everything," Daisy argues, her voice rising.

"If you can change the future here, you can change it back home," May says, gritting her teeth.

"But we know this solution works," Daisy says.

"I. Don't. Care!" (Y/n) shouts, clenched, her eyes filled with tears.

There's a pew noise, and Daisy drops to the ground, the dendrotoxin doing it's work.

Natalie gazes, wide eyed at the brunette lying unconscious on the floor.

(Y/n) tucks the ICER into the waistband of her pants, kneeling down to brush her fingers across Daisy's cheek.

"She's not going to forgive you," May says and (Y/n) glances up at her.

"I'm not leaving her here," (Y/n) picks Daisy up from the ground, and Daisy's head lolls to the side, resting against (Y/n)'s shoulder. "Let's go," (Y/n) says grimly.

. . .

May, Coulson, (Y/n) - who is still carrying Daisy - and Natalie walk down to meet Simmons, Fitz, Mack, Yo-yo, Flint, and Deke.

. . .

"What happened?" Simmons asks, her eyes falling on Daisy's unconscious figure in (Y/n)'s arms.

"She ICE'd her," May replies. "Daisy didn't want to come home."

"I wasn't going to leave her behind," (Y/n) says softly.

"Where's Yo-yo?" Mack asks. "She didn't find you?" he asks.

(Y/n) lies Daisy down on one of the couches on Kasias's lounge, Daisy's head resting in her lap.

"I'm sorry, Sunshine," (Y/n) murmurs. "I know you might not forgive me, but I couldn't leave you behind. Not like this." (Y/n) swallows thickly, blinking back her tears. (Y/n)'s fingers thread through Daisy's hair. "I love you too much to leave you here."

Coulson walks over to (Y/n), his eyes soft, and his voice is gentle, "It's time." He glances down at Daisy resting in (Y/n)'s lap. "Do you want me to take her?"

(Y/n) shakes her head. "No, I've got her."

(Y/n) shifts slightly, holding Daisy in her arms before she stands up.

Coulson stands beside (Y/n).

The rock turns to liquid and everyone - minus Daisy - looks around as they realize that they're in the same place.

(Y/n) lies Daisy down on a table, slips her hand into her pocket, and sets the box in Daisy's jacket pocket.

"Not like you'd want to," (Y/n) murmurs.

"Well that was a hell of a thing," Fitz says and (Y/n) smiles.

"Are you kidding?" Natalie says, looking around. "I'm from the future."

Coulson looks amused, then looks at Yo-yo, Mack, and Simmons. "I'm so glad you guys made it," Coulson says.

"Why are we still in the Lighthouse?" Yo-yo asks.

"Maybe Flint's Monolith didn't work," Mack offers.

Natalie looks around. "It took us to the same place, but in a different time."

Fitz nods at the redhead. "She's right."

"We're home?" Simmons asks.

"Yeah," Fitz says, and all the agents sigh with relief.

. . .

Coulson gives the agents some tasks, and (Y/n) has to remain in the same room as the unconscious Daisy.

(Y/n) opens one of the electrical panels but freezes when she hears a familiar voice.

"You ice'd me," Daisy's words are slurred. She shifts slightly, not noticing the velvet box in her pocket.

"I was . . ." (Y/n) pauses, a pained expression flashing across her face, ". . . kind of hoping you'd forget that part." (Y/n) stops herself before she says 'Sunshine.'

Daisy scoffs before she sits up, looking around at her surroundings. "Sorry to . . ." she falters, ". . . disappoint."

(Y/n) swallows thickly, focusing back on the problem in front of her she could actually fix.

"It looks the same, but we're - we're home, aren't we?" Daisy asks.

"I -" (Y/n)'s voice quavers, "- I couldn't leave you behind."

"Even with all of the risks that -" Daisy begins.

"I don't care," (Y/n) turns around, biting the inside of her cheek. "I need you here."

Daisy tilts her head, softening.

(Y/n) turns back around, fiddling with some of the wires.

There is a spark, and the lights flicker on.

(Y/n) sits herself on the floor, her back to her girlfriend.

Daisy softens even more, and gets to her feet.

(Y/n) jolts as she feels Daisy's arm wrap around her waist.

As Daisy leans into (Y/n)'s side, both women can feel the box (Y/n) had left in her pocket pressing against their sides.

Confused, Daisy reaches a hand in her pocket, pulls out the box.

"What's this?" Daisy asks. She opens the box and finds a pair of rings inside the box.

]Daisy's eyes widen and she stares at (Y/n).

"Marry me?" (Y/n) asks, meeting Daisy's chocolate brown eyes.

"Yes, is that even a question?" Daisy says, capturing (Y/n)'s lips in a kiss, pouring her love into the kiss.

Daisy's hand moves to the back of (Y/n)'s head, deepening the kiss.

Daisy pulls back from the kiss, to find a disheveled (Y/n) blinking back at her, her eyes wide.

(Y/n) shakes her head slightly, takes the sun ring from box and sliding it onto Daisy's ring finger, and Daisy does the same with the moon ring, sliding it onto (Y/n)'s finger.

(Y/n) leans into her new fiance's side, and Daisy smiles softly, her head resting against (Y/n)'s.

"I love you, Sunshine," (Y/n) murmurs.

"I love you, too," Daisy replies, her eyes gleaming happily.

. . .

"Plans are already in motion," Leopold tells Fitz, smoothing the front of his suit.

. . .

(Y/n) charges into the room and she finds a teary-eyed Daisy on her side, strapped to a table, and Fitz sitting in a chair beside her.

"Fitz? What are you doing?" (Y/n) asks.

There is the sound of a gun firing, and (Y/n) looks down, her hand coming up to her stomach.

(Y/n) slides down against the wall, her eyes glazing.

Daisy lets out a strangled, pained cry.

Simmons and Deke - who had somehow appeared a few days before - run into the room, Simmon's eyes falling on (Y/n), and her eyes widen in horror.

Daisy screams as Fitz cuts the inhibitor from her neck as Simmons and Natalie - who had just ran into the room - crouch beside (Y/n).

(Y/n) lets out a pained groan as Simmons presses against the wound.

"Don't worry, Sunshine," Natalie says, and (Y/n) is too dazed to realized what the redhead had said, but Daisy isn't, and her eyes widen. "You'll be okay.

Mack enters the room next, and he takes Fitz down into the holding area.

. . .

Daisy sits by (Y/n)'s side in the MedBay, holding (Y/n)'s hand.

Natalie enters the MedBay, and Daisy fixes her gaze on the redhead.

"Where did you hear the Sunshine thing?" Daisy asks, and the question startles Natalie a little.

"My mom would always talk about how adorable her mothers were," Natalie admits. "She said that one of her moms would call the other Sunshine. I always though it was the sweetest thing.

Daisy's eyes widen with disbelief. She studies Natalie's familiar features, the fiery red hair, the same splash of freckles across her nose, and chocolate brown eyes that matched her own.  "(Y/n) always calls me Sunshine," Daisy whispers. "You're our -"

"Grandaughter," Natalie finishes, her eyes wide.

Word Count: 4322 words

Skye / Daisy Johnson Taglist:

@imapotato

@confusinggemini612

@marie45019

[hecckyeah]

Until the Night is Over

In honor of the episode starting in 2 minutes... I started a new Sousy fic :)

(Read it on AO3 or under the cut)

Based on @cutestuff38‘s youtube video here

Modern AU, young SHIELD, Daisy/Sousa partners to lovers

Enjoy!

.

.

August 11th, 2019

.

Daisy Johnson clutched her radio in a shaking, sweaty hand. Around her, the wind whipped violently, trying to tug her away from her fate. Just one more mile, she reminded herself over and over again. She could hear screaming in the distance, and she cursed her weak, bruised body for how agonizingly slow it was moving.

He had to be close.

Sand found its way down into her boots, up to scratch her knees, and it circled her neck like a vise. Her eyes burned.

The air seemed to split suddenly around her. She threw herself to the ground, burying her head in her arms. Gunshots tore the sand dunes apart. Rocks flew.

Daisy curled herself up as tight as she could.

Shouting echoed around the entire valley, and when the gunshots let up for a few seconds, she strained to triangulate the sound. It was close.

Scrambling to her feet, she pressed the button on her radio. “I have Daniel’s twenty. This is Agent Johnson. I repeat, I have his twenty.”

The sand in her boots felt like tiny spears. Dust settled into her mouth and seemed to pierce her lungs. She couldn’t see the path, but she pressed on, hurtling over rocks and sand with a vigor she hadn’t felt since her first day in the field. Her legs numbly hurled themselves forward, and her arms shook with pent-up rage.

Sounds of struggling finally became clearer and clearer, and with a shocking suddenness, Daisy’s hair stayed still. The wind gave up. Her breath caught in her mouth. She almost stumbled to her knees, but sheer force of will kept her upright . . . just in time to see Daniel double over, surrounded by three men, teetering dangerously close to a steep cliff.

The sound Sousa made shook Daisy to her core.

With one last burst of speed, she hurled herself toward the group of men.

Shrieking, “No!” she tackled the nearest thug. They went down in a cloud of dust, Daisy’s fists meeting his jaw over and over . . . Even after his eyes closed and her fist met no resistance.

A pair of hands gripped her upper arms, and someone clutched her eyes. She screamed and fought and clawed, but they were too strong.

Too strong . . . She was too weak to save Daniel . . . She was too weak to get there in time, and now . . . now . . . He was dead.

She caught a glimpse of open eyes, stark red sand, a twisted leg. Her ears stopped hearing things. Her forehead was numb. All she knew was to scream and to scream and that he was dead.

Backup wasn’t coming. She was alone.

She was alone, and he was dead. And it was her fault.

.

.

.

July 23rd, 2014

.

Daniel Sousa had seen some strange things in his life.

After two tours in Iraq, he had seen his fair share of combat. He had seen superstition running rampage in his barracks. He had seen the inside of a field hospital. He had seen soldiers go mentally insane. And after he returned home, the weirdness just kept coming.

His first year out of active service, he was hired by none other than Phillip Coulson to head up all combat training for a brand new under-the-radar organization.

“Never heard of SHIELD,” Daniel had admitted.

Coulson rested his arms on the table. “That’s because it barely exists yet. We’re joining with the SSR as a single organization. SHIELD will focus on field work, large scale weapons and , and the SSR can keep supporting us through science and technology.”

“What’s the purpose? Wouldn’t the military be enough to keep America safe?” Daniel glanced up from the thick folder.

“SHIELD is more of a . . .” Coulson wrinkled his eyebrows, “. . . supernatural protection force. We aim not just for America, but to keep the whole world safe. Think of it as the FBI or CIA, with really big weapons. This world is getting smaller, Mr. Sousa. We don’t know what types of threats are waiting, from space, from underground, even from different worlds. We need you to help us prepare for any world-wide, nation-wide, or even city-wide catastrophe that could appear.”

“By catastrophe, you mean . . . like what happened in New York?”

Coulson nodded. “Exactly like that.”

He browsed through the files for a few minutes. “Okay.” Daniel looked up. “Let’s do it.”

They shook hands, and Sousa’s life was forever changed.  

.

He was shipped out to the base on Area 51 almost immediately, complete with a small troop of about fifty. Four scientists joined him, as well as two current SSR agents.

For a long time, his life was almost perfect. He trained his squad day in and day out, going for twenty-mile runs as often as time would allow, teaching them the basics of gun handling, hand-to-hand combat, emergency procedures, and everything else under the sun.

As was natural for Area 51, he heard some strange stories. Aliens, Martians, slithering snake creatures that measured a hundred feet, masked men that shot lasers out of their eyes . . . he had heard it all. At least one recruit usually went insane during one of their runs and claimed to have been haunted. But it was nothing that a little cold water in the face and a boxing session in the base couldn’t fix.

Sousa respected his team, and they respected him. They went from calling him “Chief” with formality, to it sounding more like a term of endearment. He knew all of their names, ages, backgrounds, favorite foods, and he had had more than one heart-to-heart with all of them at some point.

Most of them were at least ten years younger than himself, and Daniel felt a sort of paternal duty to them, to see to their wellbeing. So even though they were stuck underground for the majority of the three-year training program, they felt like a family. A healthy, strong, well-oiled machine of a family.

But a not-unwelcome wrench was thrown into his plans one day.

It was the middle of the hottest summer they had seen in a long time. He had run into road block after emergency after hiccup. He was almost done with the day—almost ready to turn in for the night . . . when another thing threw him off.

And Sousa never expected to be so thrown off by just one person.

.

“Who the hell are you?”

The woman didn’t look up from the desk. Her eyebrows raised slightly, and she brought a gloved hand to her glasses. “Who I am is on a need-to-know basis.”

He did not have time for this. His bad foot had been acting up all day, he had had to walk around with that god-forsaken cane, and half his team had contracted some type of flu simultaneously. Their training exercises were delayed, and his meeting and progress demonstration with Coulson would have to be rescheduled again.

“I need to know,” he said, frustration and impatience rising off of him like the heat waves outside.

The woman pasted a smile onto her face and finally glanced up. “No, you don’t, because I don’t exist, and we never met.” She gestured toward him. “Now, will you shut the door please?”

That didn’t answer his question, nor did it give him a clue as to why she was nonchalantly sitting in the office of a high-ranking SHIELD official.

“Not until you produce some credentials,” he pressed.

Sighing, the woman stood up. “Coulson had said you were a little more welcoming to visitors.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Not when they’re sitting in my personal office and don’t identify themselves.”

���Fair,” she said, and handed him a card.

It read, Agent Daisy Johnson – Level Six – SHIELD, Washington, D.C. Consultant for Field Operations.

Daniel relaxed and let out a breath. He smiled. “Agent Johnson.”

She returned the grin. “Mr. Sousa. A pleasure to finally meet you.”

.

.

.

August 11th, 2017

.

“Attention, cadets.”

The room echoed with the sound of sixty boots stomping the floor at the same time.

Daisy Johnson strolled around the group, each new recruit looking more and more uncomfortable the longer she paced.

“You have been selected,” she finally said, “to be a part of SHIELD’s newest field training program. It will not be easy. It will break you. It will make you want to crawl into a hole and never—”

“At ease,” Sousa interrupted, as the door behind him shut with a clang.

Daisy spun on her heel to face him.

He smirked. “Stop scaring the poor recruits, please.”

Daniel clasped his hands behind his back, feet spread a comfortable distance apart. “Here’s the deal: You will not be broken,” he addressed the thirty nervous cadets. “You will be built from the ground up. We know you have skills, that is why you were selected. We will work to hone those skills. We have a fine-tuned training program, which turns you all into a team. By the end of three years, you should be working, talking, and fighting like a team. And as soon as we have the go-ahead from the Director to begin field work, you will have to be a team.”

His eyes darted between the rookies. Some looked terrified, some had stone-cold demeanors that he stared down. “Agent Johnson here will try to push you beyond your limits, but I am here to help you find those limits. Agent Johnson will be in charge of all hand-to-hand combat training, so you have my permission stay a healthy distance away if you don’t want to have your teeth knocked out.”

A nervous chuckle rippled through the group.

“All you need to know,” he continued, “is that we expect your very best. You all have strengths and weaknesses, but we need you to harness them both. We want you to be the best agents of SHIELD that you can be. Now . . .” he checked his watch, “. . . I believe it’s time for lunch. Dismissed.”

.

“They really respect you, you know” Daisy said. She jogged a couple steps to keep up with his long strides, then slowed again. “You could really make this base into something great. I think—”

“I’m requesting a new assignment.”

Daisy stopped. A light flickered in the hallway.

“Sorry, what?”

Sousa beckoned her into the office with him. The door clicked shut, and he breathed a sigh. “Don’t get me wrong: I love what I do, and I love the people I train. But Davis is more than ready to take over, and to be honest with you . . . it’s hard to train people for the field when I know I won’t be out there myself. I want more than just a . . .” he rested a fist on the table, “. . . a desk job.”

She didn’t know what to say.

Thankfully, Daniel continued. “I have a meeting with the Director in a couple weeks, and I’m going to request a change. I want to bring the first squad I trained out into the field. You know the plane that Fitz designed?”

Daisy nodded.

“I’m going to ask to use that as a mobile command center. There are more and more threats popping up all over the place, and the military can only do so much. With Fitzsimmons, we’d be equipped to contain and handle anything. I think it’s time we stopped hiding in these underground . . . bomb shelters.”

Taking a deep breath, Daisy leaned against the door. “Okay. Sure.” She tried to collect her thoughts, but a hundred questions tried to escape her mouth at once. “Uh.”

Daniel sat on the edge of his desk, facing her. “Actually, I wanted to see if . . . If maybe, you would come with me?”

“Partners?” Her eyes lit up. “Me, you, Fitzsimmons?”

Sousa nodded. “Maybe Rodriguez or Hunter.”

Finally, Daisy smiled. She pulled off her gloves and flapped them around. “Sounds like the dream team.” Pulling herself away from the door, she extended her hand to Daniel. “Let’s do it.”

They shook on it.

.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Love Isn’t Always On Time Part Fifteen

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

Notes: Not beta-read. 

Summary: I pushed down the bubble of pride that swelled at his awed tone; questions like that were just another reminder of the fact that my entire relationship with Steve and Bucky was based on falsehoods. 

Warnings: Light cursing

Rating: T (this may change)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

The relative peace of the shooting range was interrupted abruptly as I aimed and fired five shots in quick succession. My groupings weren’t as tight as they had been when I had done my entrance exams for S.H.I.E.LD, but they weren’t so bad.

“Where did you learn to shoot like that?” Steve asked. I pushed down the bubble of pride that swelled at his awed tone; questions like that were just another reminder of the fact that my entire relationship with Steve and Bucky was based on falsehoods. 

I lowered the gun, unloading the clip and setting it aside before I set the gun down as well. Bucky hadn’t said a word through the target shooting, but when I glanced at him, his eyes were narrowed at me suspiciously. “I didn’t grow up in the safest of neighborhoods,” I fibbed. What was another lie? Steve sighed, setting himself down beside Bucky.  “Neither did we, but we weren’t taught to shoot,” Steve pointed out. “You’ve never talked about that before,” Bucky said. I shrugged, folding my arms across my chest defensively.

“We weren’t at war in Brooklyn. And I don’t like to talk about it.”

I shifted from foot to foot, unsure of myself as the two shared a look.

“Phillips offered you a position with him,” Steve told me.

“Offered, or you talked him into it?” I asked. Steve opened his mouth to retort, but I waved him off. “You’re not sticking me on the sidelines, Rogers.” “It isn’t safe for you out here,” Bucky spoke up. “Oh, and it is for you? Did we or did we not find you strapped to a table,” I snapped. Bucky’s jaw tightened, and I felt my stomach roll. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes to calm myself down. “It’s a war. No one is safe out here,” I pointed out, keeping my voice as level as possible. “Then what’s your plan?” Steve asked, looking up at me, “You stay with me and Bucky?” “I won’t just stay, I’ll help. I can shoot, I can fight as well as any of you… I don’t know if this comes down to you wanting to keep me safe. I think this comes down to whether or not you trust me,” I said. “You told me before we jumped out of that plane that there was a lot I didn’t know about you,” Steve reminded me. “Tell me what you need from me,” I said. “The truth.”

—

“Who’s this, then?” I turned my head at the sound of Dum Dum’s voice. “Oh! Pardon, miss. Didn’t recognize ya,” He smiled brightly. “No worries,” I said lightly, setting my things aside. “You’re coming along?” I glanced over at Morita as he loaded his pack into the back of the truck.

“That alright with you?” I asked. He held his hands up in mock surrender. “More than. You helped us out of that jam in Krausberg. Meant no disrespect.” I gave him a small apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. Long night.” “You’re telling me,” Falsworth grumbled as he loaded his things in beside Morita’s. I chuckled at the sight of the hungover Brit. “Morning.” We all turned to look at Bucky and Steve as they approached. I eyed Steve’s new uniform. Stark had padded it to ensure Steve would be adequately protected. I stepped aside, following his movements as he tossed his pack in beside the others. I had never been able to really admire the hues of red, white, and blue on his shield in old photos. I bit my lip to stifle a gasp at the vibrancy of the paint over the Vibranium. I had spent the last few nights away from Steve and Bucky. Despite the number of questions I’d answered for them, I still felt like their gazes weighed heavily on me. And it felt like things had shifted. We were strained, all of us. Bucky and Steve had been close to one another before I’d come into their lives; they would still be close if I left it.

Steve pulled the shield off of his back. Light as it seemed when he handled it, his pack still slouched under its weight. He turned to look at me, eyes set with what I hoped was concern. 

“Ready?” He asked quietly. I read that message loud and clear: One last chance to back out. “Ready,” I said firmly. He nodded before turning back to look at Bucky. “Hang on, Cap!” We stopped to see one of Phillips’ associates came scrambling over, camera in hand. “Before you go,” He held the camera up. We all shuffled around, crowding awkwardly together. I tried to move toward the back, but Dum Dum nudged me forward, laughing, “No way will they be able to see you behind me, missy.” I took up a spot in front of Bucky and Steve, shoulders stiff. The cameraman probably told me to smile, but I couldn’t muster one. Close as I was to the two most important people in my life, I had never felt so far from them.

—

2012

“Your shift ended two hours ago.”

“I need to speak to the Director.” Hill pursed her lips, looking at Coulson through the crack in the door she’d opened. “Now is not the time.” “Now is definitely the time.” “You’re well aware that we are dealing with a situation—“ Hill was cut off by a grainy black and white photograph being shoved in her face. She went silent, eyes scanning the faces before she stepped back, letting Coulson through and shutting the door behind him. “Sir,” She said, calling Fury’s attention away from his screens. “This better be good, Agent,” He said flatly. “She’s in Europe, sir,” Coulson said. “And you know that how?” Fury asked.

Hill took the photo from Coulson and passed it to Fury, pointing out the face of their agent. “Where did you get this?” Fury demanded. “My grandfather was in General Phillips’ outfit. He took it himself, sir. I was at home, just going through some of his things, I mean considering what’s going on and I— I spotted that.” “…Motherfu—“

“Sir!” The three turned their heads as Rumlow strode in. 

“The lab’s been able to restore power to the machine. They’re asking if we have a destination.” Fury’s eyes darted to the photograph. “Tell them to standby.” Rumlow nodded once before pivoting to leave.

“And Rumlow?” Fury added. The agent stopped, turning back. “Sir?” “Next time, knock.” Tag list: @gloryevans @redryderdesigns @winter-scolder @aactuaaltraash @secretagentben @staplerrrr​ @moli1497 @adayinmymeadow  @allonszassbutt @mannls @witch-of-letters  @niallssweetheart22 @uneniffler  @rinthehufflepuff @panic-angel3314  ; @firstangeldragonranch 

[ot5ismyhome]

Bloodbound Chapter 17- Is this the real life?

Read from the beginning here.

Present time

Wanda walked out of her office. She needed to talk with her brother. When she went out to the corridor, we saw Pietro near the vending machine. He was already munching on an energy bar and was on the act of acquiring his next.

“Pietro” she called softly.

He turned around to his sister’s voice. Even though she spoke in a normal tone, his ears felt it was too loud. His face broke into a grin and he opened his arms to an inviting hug. She rushed to him and enclosed him in a tight hug.

“How are you feeling?”

“Great” he beamed. “Different but good different.” He laughed. Her eyes watered with happiness. The thought that she had almost lost him struck her and she held him tightly.

“How are you doing, Wand?”

She looked at him for a moment before answering. “Weird. I need to tell you something.” She filled him on what happened earlier that night. She also told him about Howard. He had a puzzled look on his face but didn’t judged her.

“You don’t have to feel guilty, sis.” His voice was soft.

“I am trying. But I feel I violated their privacy.”

“Don’t worry. We will work out everything like we always do. Maybe Steve might know something about this.”

She nodded. “Why are you guys out here?” she asked him indicating to Coulson and Howard loitering around.

“Old couples quarrel” Howard grinned like an idiot.

“Let’s go on check on Steve.”

The twins made their way to Steve’s office. The office door was open and only Steve was sitting on the sofa. There was so sign of Bucky. Wanda slowly walked to Steve and rested her hand on his shoulder grabbing his attention. He looked at her with sad eyes. The twins settled next to Steve and comforted him.

“How are you holding up?”

“I will be fine. By living this long, one thing I have learnt that dwelling on what might have been, it’s no way to live.”

Wanda gave a sad smile and patted his shoulders.

“How are you, kid?”

“My life is a mess. I don’t even know what is happening to me.”

“Hey” he said softly, “I might have a clue of what you’re experiencing. Once we are done with this situation, we can deal with it” he promised.

“Thanks... I want you to know I didn’t intend to see your... your memories.”

“I know. I’m not angry at you, kid” he smiled. Wanda returned his smile.

After some time, Coulson and Howard came to Steve’s office. After everyone settled in, Steve was the first to break the silence. “I think everyone has many questions they need answers. We have to talk to sort it out.” Steve turned to Coulson, “How long have you know I was a vampire?”

Coulson had a small twinkle. Wanda wondered how his eyes held the light even after the incidents that happened an hour ago. He started, “I have known it since I started working here. To say the truth, I am undercover here. I am Phillip J Coulson, Director of S.T.A.K.E. We deal with extraordinary and inexplicable threats.” He added with an apologetic smile, “I think I have raised more questions than the ones I have cleared.”

“What the fuck? Fury is the director” blurted out Pietro.

“That’s just the big picture. Many people forget to look at small picture actually. Director Fury handed the assignment to me last year. Soon after I went undercover, Fury handed me the tool box. Most of the newer recruits don’t know for the anonymity of the mission.”

Steve closed his eyes and exhaled sharply. He cradled his head on his hand and sighed again. Steve had already had his doubts that Pietro is a secret agent since his drunken confession. His closeness with Natasha and him knowing about S.T.A.K.E confirmed that all three belong to the same organisation.

“What’s stake? Why were you undercover?”

“Special Threat Assessment for Known Extranormalities. Fury had his doubts about the vampire involvement in the smuggling practices going on. I thought inside eye will be an added advantage. I took the mission.” He said, the sparkle in his eyes still remaining. “Given the situation, I think it’s best for me to be in open than undercover.”

“Are you saying Steve is involved?” Pietro asked.

“Now I know he isn’t. But I was here to spy on him and others. We have had our doubt that a civil war is brewing between the vampires. If the fight goes on full break then it would be very devastating for the civilians.”

Steve shook his head. “Before we heard Pietro’s dispatch, Natasha was saying Tony is being framed. And she gave me a file.” He extended the file towards Coulson. “I don’t appreciate you spying on me but I think we need to work together”

Coulson got in and flipped through the pages. “Agent May has sent me some valuable information.” He turned to Pietro, “I need the private investigation files from you and Thompson.” Pietro wondered how Coulson might know about it. But Coulson continues on, “Along with that we will have a strong case to save Tony.”

“Natasha hasn’t showed up yet. We need to search her.”

“I wouldn’t worry about her. Being a one of our best, she can take care of herself. It’s Tony I’m concerned about. A group is working to bring him down.”

Steve called Tony to let him know about the attack by Stane. He filled him the information about Rumlow and Stane. He ended the call by asking Tony to stay safe.

After ending the call, Steve turned to others, “Let’s now concentrate on the matter at hand. We know Tony isn’t involved with the smuggling but we need proof to connect Rumlow to it. I hope Natasha comes up with more.”

“We need a counter measure if she is not ready” Howard spoke up.

“What do you propose we do?”

“Sway the neutral one to our side. Jiaying has always been neutral. She has a soft spot for you. If we talk to her before the council, then we will have yours, Natasha and Jiaying’s vote. We can win the hearing even if Rumlow has strong case. Complete sweep. He can’t appeal again.”

“Then I will meet up with Tony. We will head to Fountain of Youth” Steve said getting up. He grabbed his coat and exited.

[areiton]

what you know - stucky

This is what you know about soulmates: 

Some find them young. 

~*~ 

You are six years old, fighting mad and bloody faced, when James Barnes swans into your life, larger than life, prettier than Mama, and brilliantly alive. 

You are six years old when he quirks a grin at you, all mischief and smug and you say, “I didn’t need no help.” 

“Got it though, didn’t ya,” he shoots back, and you shiver. You sway and he reaches for you and you don’t quite understand the way your heart trips and tumbles and steadies next to a new thumping heartbeat, the way his eyes go wide. You don’t understand the ache in your knuckles or the way he touches his lip and winces. 

You are six years old, and you don’t know what soulmates means, really, when you meet James Buchanan Barnes. 

~*~ 

This is what you know about soulmates: 

They share pain. 

~*~ 

Bucky always knows when you’re fighting, because he can feel it, the hot bloom of pain when you’re getting punched, the crack of your ribs and the bruises blooming up because you decided to get involved when some asshole got handsy with Dot. 

You know when his Da gets drunk and comes home, beats his anger into Bucky’s ribs, busts his lip, and you think the helpless fury you feel is what he does, when you’re hurting and he’s catching echoes. 

It keeps you outta fights while he heals up, keeps your touch gentle and your voice light until he snaps at you, all brittle bruised fury and you snarl back, and the fragility that ol’ man Barnes beats into him with heavy fists shatters with sharp, love-laced words. 

~*~ 

This is what you know about soulmates: 

It isn’t easy. 

~*~ 

Your Ma had a soulmate, a pretty woman named Eliza that she drew, when you could drag her away from the washing, and the cooking--mostly on the nights when you were sick and couldn’t draw for yourself and Ma would trace Eliza’s features on butcher paper, and you’d watch in awe to see her come to life, this woman you never met, would never meet. 

She had a soulmate, and she married your Da instead, left Eliza in Ireland and he left her in New York, a baby in her belly, for a war that would kill him. 

“Bein’ soulmates don’t mean life is easy, love,” she said and watched Bucky, chasing tomcats in the alley. 

You spit blood on the floor of a dancehall and Bucky tackles a mouthy bastard to the ground, fists flying, rage contorting his face because he called you a fairy, a queer, a fag, and you think about her words and how much you just wanna be left alone with your soulmate. 

Bucky yelps and pain blossoms on your jaw and you wade back into the fight, snarling. 

~*~ 

This is what you know about soulmates: 

They mean happiness. 

~*~ 

Your dirt poor and sick as hell and Bucky works too hard and spends his sabbath at temple with his Ma and sisters, and sits shiva whenever someone dies, and there’s nights when you only stop shivering when he wraps around you, lips pressed to your neck, hands hot on your belly and a heat that isn’t from him licks through you. 

You’re poor and sick and tired and you go days without seein’ him even though you share a tiny apartment but there’s this too--

He kisses you when he slips out. You leave food in the icebox for him, and smile when it’s gone. He wraps around you when your sleepin’ and you know that when you cough, he’ll wake, worried and careful. He knows that when he comes home, exhausted and sad, you’ll be waiting with open arms and quiet. 

You’re tired and your poor and you’re sick--and you are happier than you ever thought you would be. 

~*~ 

This is what you know about soulmates: 

It’s a lonely business. 

~*~ 

Bucky kisses you in your dark apartment and squeezes your hand before he slips away, and he’s beautiful in his uniform, everything you love all packaged up pretty and off to fight for the country you both love, and you ache with it, even before his footsteps fade, a drumbeat that echoes and throbs and promises months of loneliness. 

You hold tight to a promise of a stranger, and the loneliness that chases you through bootcamp and the Rebirth chamber and all across the damn country, while pain blooms on your skin, and a heartbeat not your own flickers in your chest. 

~*~ 

This is what you know about soulmates: 

There’s some things the soul knows. 

~*~ 

Phillips says Bucky is dead and Peggy stares at you with pity in her pretty brown eyes, her mouth set in an unhappy curve and the rain is still coming down. 

But you can feel him, can feel his heartbeat like your own, matching. Can feel the ache in his bones that reminds you of the vita-rays. Can feel the bruises and blood spilt and the pounding in his head, and the dryness of his lips, cracked and bleeding. 

You turn to go and Peggy, she chases you because she’s the smartest dame you know, and you look at her when she says it, again, gently this time. “Your friend is dead, Steve.” 

“He isn’t.” 

Maybe it’s your tone or maybe it’s something in your eyes but she stills, and she stares at you. “How do you know?” 

“He’s my soulmate,” you say and your voice doesn’t shake, because it’s terrified you for years, hiding your male soulmate, because the world doesn’t look kindly on that. Peggy pales, and she takes a half step back, something you won’t think about filling her eyes. “He’s my soulmate,” you say again. “And he’s not dead.” 

~*~ 

This is what you know about soulmates: 

Few survive without the other. 

~*~ 

You rescue him. 

You rescue him and you fight with him, side by side for years, and then it falls apart in a rush of wind and his voice screaming and a fall so long you can’t see the end of it. 

You watch him fall and you want to fall with him. 

You cling to the train, held there by your men, and you ache in your bones, but it’s your ache, your pain, and the heartbeat you know like your own, that has been the match to your own for decades--is quiet. 

They treat you with a quiet fragility that makes you want to scream, the Commandos and Peggy both. Phillips doesn’t know that Bucky was your soulmate, and he’s brusque, almost cruel, and you’re grateful for it, grateful for the mission because if you don’t have that, you’ll put a bullet in your brain, and Bucky spent more than half his life keepin’ you alive, and how the hell is it fair to him, to kill yourself? 

You don’t care about fair, really, you miss him, want to chase him down into that endless fall, to the only place he’s gone that you can’t follow. 

And then there’s bombs and a endless stretch of ice and sea, and you can hear the frantic pain in Peggy’s voice, but you smile as you tip your plane down into the ice and dream you can still feel his heartbeat. 

~*~ 

This is what you know about soulmates: 

The ones who survive--don’t. 

~*~ 

You wake up. 

You shouldn’t, and you hate Fury and Coulson and SHIELD, for waking you, for dragging you into this future you don’t know, don’t want. 

You hate the whole fucking world, because you are in it. 

You wake up and you shouldn’t, and you fight because you aren’t sure what else you can do, and tryin’ to kill yourself didn’t take. 

Sometimes, when you’re lying in your bed in SHIELD’s headquarters, you imagine you can feel a heartbeat, sweet and familiar, thrumming next to yours. 

Ma called ‘em phantom ticks--the heartbeat of your soulmate long after they’d died. She felt them, after Eliza died, after the pain exploded in her head and left her writhing and weak, and then pale, hand clutching her chest. 

You never wanted to. You never asked Bucky about the nights when you were sick, and lingering near death, if he ever felt the aching absence of your heartbeat. 

You hope like hell he didn’t, because this--this is a hell you would never wish on someone you love. 

~*~ 

This is what you know about soulmates: 

They are complicated. 

~*~ 

Your pulse steadies when you meet Natasha, and your breathing slows to match Tony, and you can feel the way that every sense in you reaches for Sam. 

They’re yours and you didn’t even know that was possible. 

“Stark spent a shit ton of time and money learning everything he could about soulmates,” Sam says. “It’s not always romantic, ya know? There are other soulbonds. Ours is platonic.” 

“How do you know?” 

Sam casually cuts his arm open, a shallow stinging cut--and you don’t feel it. 

“Have you--do you have--” 

“Riley,” Sam says, softly. “He was my soulmate, my heart-true soulmate.” 

There’s an ocean of grief there, echoing in his voice and you can’t feel his pain, but you can feel this ache, and you reach out, blindly, and Sam’s hand squeezes yours. 

“You aren’t alone, here,” Sam says. “Stark ain’t my soulmate. Nat’s got Clint. But we’re all yours and your ours, and this world might not be the one you want--but we’re here.” 

You breathe, and there are tears burning in your eyes but you think that maybe--maybe you can learn to live again. 

~*~ 

This is what you know about soulmates: 

You got lucky. 

~*~ 

Natasha is beautiful and brilliant and you adore her. You see echoes of Peggy in her, in the way she fights, free and fierce, and the way she commands the world she walks through, refusing to bend to the men around her. She’s soft with you, teaches you how to make borscht soup and foists Liho on you when she vanishes with her heart-true soulmate for missions and sometimes, for weekends that bring her back to you loose limbed and smiling. Clint is good for her, and it hurts, sometimes, seeing them together, but you’re happy for her. 

Tony is brash and loud and pushy and you fight with him when you aren’t fighting together, and when you are, it’s like fighting side by side with Bucky, an extension of yourself that you didn’t realize you missed, until he’s there, and you feel safe, in the middle of the world gone sideways. He’s pushy and demanding and extravagant, and you take a while to realize it’s because he cares so much it hurts, that he pours every bit of himself into the people he loves, because he can’t help himself. He has two heart-true soulmates, and you think he needs two just to keep him steady, and then you meet them and you’re pretty sure that Rhodey and Pepper and Tony could rule the world if they wanted, or could be dragged out of Tony’s workshop long enough. They match him, wild and brilliant, a genius touched with madness, and it doesn’t show in Rhodey and Pepper as quick, but then he sees Pepper facing down the Secretary of Defense, and he sees Rhodey fighting and he sees them all together and drunk and he doesn’t know if he’s turned on or terrified. 

Sam is quiet and sarcastic and steady, the things he misses most about Bucky without the history. Sam sees Steve, not just the shield and the cowl, not the seventy years of trauma and loss. He shows Steve the new century--Nat and Tony do too, but Sam shows him a new world that Nat and Tony can’t, show him the world from the outside looking in, the place that Steve always found himself, and it’s different--a sickly queer kid and a black boy--but it’s familiar, too, a different kind of familiar, and he likes seeing the world through Sam’s eyes, and aches, seeing the world through Sam’s eyes. 

Sam knows, too, what it’s like to lose the soulmate of your heart, and the night that Steve tells him about Bucky, they drink until he finally cries, and fall asleep curled together like puppies, and he feels warm for the first time in years.  

~*~ 

This is what you know about soulmates: 

Not a damn thing. 

~*~ 

You dream, still, sometimes. About a warm body sleeping next to you, and a familiar voice shaping your name and pain blooming across your knuckles and your heart tumbling to match his. 

~*~ 

This is what you know about soulmates: 

Sometimes, the universe gets it right. 

~*~ 

You fight him on a bridge, and pain starbursts against your skin with every blow of your fist, and your heartbeat is erratic and painful and you finally stare and you say, “Bucky?” 

He watches you with wide, terrified eyes, and runs from Sam, and you want to chase. 

When you do--when the helicarriers are smoking in the Potomac and your platonic soulmates are watching with wide, scared, angry eyes, you chase and Bucky runs, and you think the universe got it right, tying you together, a century ago, and keeping that bond through the ice and the torture, and you hope that it’s enough to bring him home. 

Sam chases with you and Tony watches, angry and petulant and finally throwing himself into helping, and Natasha does the same, and you think you got lucky, got so fucking lucky, to have them and this second chance with Bucky. 

~*~ 

This is what you know about soulmates: 

You get one second chance. 

~*~ 

In the end, you chasing him doesn’t mean shit because you're asleep in Sam’s apartment in Harlem and Bucky is sliding through the window and into your bed, and he’s skittish and bloody and won’t meet your eye. 

But his hand is on your heart, and his heartbeat is thrumming along, next to yours and his voice is a familiar welcome home when he says, “I missed you.” 

[mercysong-tardis]

Philindaisy AU plot ideas!

Here are some Philindaisy Alternate Universe plot ideas I’m giving up for adoption. If any of you want to write them, please just credit me for the idea. These are free to do with them as you wish. No strings attached. Here you go:

Zombie Apocalypse AU:      Zombie Apocalypses are supposed to be something only in Hollywood, until Fitzsimmons’ lab is attacked and Hydra releases an Alien Virus collected from the Kree. People on base go insane, First muttering about their “calling” before going on a rampage for uninfected human flesh. Coulson and May are on a time crunch to help Fitzsimmons create a cure, while Daisy discovers that all inhumans are immune. Desperate to Get Daisy back safely, Coulson and May head out to bring her back, fighting through those who were former colleagues.      When the virus takes hold of Phil, suddenly everything gets worse as Melinda has to wrangle him back to safety, along with an unconscious Daisy…

Pirate AU:    While on a raid, Pirate Captain Melinda May stumbles across Tavern Cook Phil Coulson. She spares him, (mostly because he was shirtless and easy on the eyes), and forces him along to work in the galley of her ship. Very quickly, Melinda falls for him. They spar at one point, Phil proves himself with both sword and firearm, and Melinda raises his status in rank. Eventually, he saves her life and she makes him first mate, much to the horror and jealousy of former first mate Grant Ward.    Melinda makes Grant Ward walk the plank eventually when he betrays her and tries to kill Melinda in her sleep. Luckily, Phil had been there, doing a fine job at keeping May far from sleep (wink, wink). Little does she know that he is soon picked up by a trading ship. While Melinda makes herself Pirate Queen of the High Seas, she becomes closer and closer to Phil Coulson. During a raid on a small port, Melinda pucks up a child, a seven-year-old orphan girl named Daisy, and brings her aboard with the excuse that she could wash dishes, when really Melinda begins training her in combat. Phil helps as well, and other crew members challenge Melinda, saying she is getting soft. Phil discourages the potential mutiny, and teaches Crew member!Lance Hunter, a thing or two about respecting the ladies.     Eventually Grant Ward returns with a fleet of ships he has conquered, hellbent on getting his revenge and seizing Melinda’s hefty cargo of Pirate Treasure…

Medieval AU:      New King Phillip of House Coulson is set to pick a bride. His mother, Queen dowager Julie, has set before him the best choices for alliances, the lovely Lady Audrey, and Duchess Rosalind. But one night at the ball, Phillip is enchanted with the quiet woman who dances with incredible grace and style. She’s exotic in beauty and Phil is smitten when, alone with her on a balcony, the woman stops an attempted assassination. Phillip had found his bride, Lady Melinda of house May. But his mother may not be so happy, insisting that Phil choose from her selection. When the wedding day comes, Phillip lies to Lady Audrey, and sets Melinda in a duplicate dress, her face covered by a thick veil. By the time their vows are said, and the veil removed, Julie has nothing to say except to welcome Melinda into the family with the most forced smile Phillip has ever seen. Phil finally gets to kiss his bride.     It takes only several moons before Julie is told an Heir is on it’s way. A proud future grandmother, Queen Dowager Julie orders a magical reading of the unborn child. The magician has nothing to say, only leaves screaming like a madman. Afraid for what that means, Melinda is hidden from the public until the royal couple’s long awaited son -erm- daughter is born, a healthy baby girl whom they name Daisy. But soon it becomes apparent that the child is much more powerful then she seems, and Julie is blaming Melinda for bewitching the child....

Shapeshifter AU:      Melinda May-Coulson never shape-shifts. It’s simply easier to hide her gift then to flaunt it and be despised. Most people can shift into a small animal. Dogs, cats, bears, owls, and snakes are common. Horses and Lions are considered lucky. Some are even more amazing, holding within themselves more mythical forms. Every now and then, Griffins and Pegasi are made celebrities. But Melinda? Melinda is the only dragon she has ever heard of. So she is ashamed, hides her form until it becomes unbearable and she shifts alone in her home, filling the entire living room with shining dark blue and glittering silver scales, always leaving behind a scent of burnt tea and Lavender when she stretches her tight coil.       Phil is a more common form, simply a golden retriever that Melinda finds adorable. Sometimes he shifts to make her happy, running around her legs in circles, looking up at her with those big, round, soft blue eyes. He doesn’t ask for her to shift, has never seen her completely. He doesn’t judge her secrecy, understands it even, saying he knew someone who was a rat. (Melinda insists she is much more regal than a rat, of all things)       Life goes on until Phil’s friend, Maria, gives them a call about a girl that desperately needs a home. So the Coulson’s take her in, a little girl right out of the Hunan province in China, a new American name, Daisy, foreign to her ears, speaking rapidly in broken Mandarin that only Melinda understands.       One day, Daisy comes home early with Phil, and they walk outside into the backyard to find Melinda in her dragon form, and to Phil’s shock, Daisy screams with surprise and with a spark of light, becomes a dragon herself, finding her way to Melinda. Blue and silver scales shine with White and gold while a golden retriever yaps happily between them.

Hunger Games AU:    Hunger Games Victor Melinda May is living her quiet life with her husband Phil Coulson and single daughter, Daisy, in the Victor’s Village of district seven. But as the year’s days come closer and closer to the  reaping, Melinda suffers her annual PTSD from the horrors of her time in the arena, twelve years ago. Waking up in cold sweats or to the sound of her own scream is nothing new to  Melinda, her dreams haunted with the faces of the other tributes she’d watched die.    As her daughter nears fifteen, Melinda fears more and more until the inevitable happens; and Daisy is drawn as this year’s female tribute of District seven, alongside of Lincoln Campbell. Mournfully, Melinda is forced to accompany her own daughter on the train to The Capital, and give her five days of training and support before Daisy is thrust into the nightmare of the Hunger Games. Under strict orders from President Snow, Melinda has to force herself not to be biased while helping out both Daisy and Lincoln. While Phil watches at home, Melinda breaks while her daughter marches into a certain death sentence…

Star Wars AU:     Phil is the perfect Jedi. Bound to the code, completing all his missions successfully and with ease. Melinda? Melinda is a more radical Jedi. She breaks the code left and right, follows the force instead of the rules. She is unable to stay in one place for long, always moving with her fifth year Palawan, Daisy Johnson.      While on a mission, the two are paired up, living undercover as royals to another planet, Daisy poses as their princess daughter, meaning to try to swoon the prince, Robbie Reyes in order to get information while Jedi Masters May and Coulson search the palaces and crime families. But old fires are reignited, and Phil has to bury the feelings for Melinda while they advise Daisy to do the same, with the predicament at hand; Phil is hopelessly in love with Melinda, and Daisy might be in love with her perfect prince fit for a Jedi knight…

Matrix AU:     Living on the Zephyr, proud sister ship to the  Nebuchadnezzar, Captain Melinda May trains her new recruits, a handful of young adults fresh out of the Matrix. Her co-captain, Phil Coulson helps her as they navigate their confusing, underground world. But with a ship full of uncontrollable youngsters, the kids take it upon themselves to get the two captains together.

Demon AU:     When Audrey is killed in a car accident, Phil, under the guilt that it was his fault, takes it upon himself to revive his girlfriend. One night alone at a bar, he finds what he’s looking for. A woman who shimmers with an unearthly aura of sinful villainy. So Phil makes a deal, and Audrey is brought back, but Phil must stay with his new mistress: a demon under the name Melinda, better known as the Cavalry. He becomes her sex toy, like a human pet she keeps.  Phil soon discovers that the longer he stays with Melinda, the more hellish he becomes. Soon he has to make a choice; stay human, or accept his fate and find that there is more to Melinda then what meets his reddening eyes.      By the time Phil is no longer visible to the human eye unless he wills it, Phil has said goodbye to Audrey, and returned to Melinda’s side, ready to watch her belly grow. Somehow, someway, what was left of his human flesh has sparked a life inside his mistress, and Melinda is unsure what this means. As Phil falls for Melinda, the weight of his deal with her lessens, and therefor he pledges himself to her, for the rest of eternity.      When the child is born, Melinda misses her free days, and gives Phil their daughter, breaking off their deal. But Phil no longer wants Audrey. He wants to have Melinda back. So he sets off to reclaim her, all the while working through the surprises raising a half-demon child holds.

Writer/Editor  AU:     Phil is an esteemed author, having written the hits of the teen and young adult section. Melinda is an editor, desperate to get a job, and quick. She finds Phil in need of an Editor, and she snatches up the opportunity. As they spend more time together working though, Melinda starts to fall for him.      Daisy is Melinda’s adopted daughter. After school, she has found herself taking the bus to Phil’s house instead of her own. Her Mom is acting weird, more cheerful than usual and always talking about how wonderful her client’s book is going to be. Daisy just wants her mom back to herself again, without distracting men taking up her time. But on the flip side, Phil Coulson is a bright man who respects her, and always gives full attention to a conversation (Something Daisy craves). He’s kind and generous, even helps out when May sues her neighbor, Grant Ward, for sexual harassment. Daisy can’t help but not like Phil.     As Melinda edits Phil’s work, she finds herself more and more invested in him. Daisy is happier now, and Melinda has found someone she is truly comfortable talking to. When the book is finally finished, and Phil leaves for the press tour, Melinda misses him. Phil reveals that the main characters of his books are based off people he loves, and Melinda gets his memo immediately. There must be someone else.     Phil returns to May excited from the public’s reaction to his book, but disappointed when Melinda no longer sticks around. Eventually he puts the pieces together, explaining that the heroine of his book is based off Melinda herself.

[valentinaonthemoon]

Today I watched three episodes consecutively, the pace is picking up! I only stopped myself because I had to do things irl, but I’d have gladly kept going! Here are my thoughts on

Agents of SHIELD 1x14 - T.A.H.I.T.I.

Coulson telling Simmons she was great. Nice! It’s what she deserves.

Skye almost dying is not nice.

Fitz blaming himself and Ward blaming Coulson: I don’t like any of these.

Although was Ward blaming Coulson? Was he blaming Garrett? Was he just playing a part and not blaming anyone? We will never know

May stepping up with the TRUTH: Ian Quinn is the one to blame.

“We’re her family” CAN YOU HEAR ME SOBBING?

I don’t like violence, but May beating up the bad guys will always be great to see, you guys.

Oh, look, the start of Coulson’s team against the laws of SHIELD.We already saw part of this on “The Hub”, but now Coulson himself lets FitzSimmons part of level 10 secrets!

I remember I had more information about the number 616 and Marvel in 2014: now I’ve forgotten all of it. It’s nice that we get so many easter eggs, though!

Ugh, Garrett. I was feeling pretty good knowing we hadn’t encountered him yet and now here he is.

Ray of sunshine Antoine Triplett is very welcome, though! 💛

“Why are YOU here, Garrett?” - Phillip Coulson already asking the RIGHT questions.

Trip: “How did Coulson swing such a sweet ride?” - Ward: “He died.” - Trip: “That’s tight.” HILARIOUS

Leave Trip alone, Ward, you weirdo. Not even one full conversation and they’re already beating each other up. Ugh!

I can’t remember who knows that Garrett is the Clairvoyant and who doesn’t and at this point I’m too invested to re-spoil it to myself.

“This is still about me?” Oh, Phil. When wasn’t it, though?

“We need to do anything humanly possible to save Skye.” Or IN-humanly possible. Eh? Eh? Right.

I love the science babies fitzsimmonsing.

These guards were only doing their job, though. That was probably also one of the busiest days they had working there.

I wonder if Garrett checked the ID of the guard he killed to see if he was Hydra or he knew him.

*“Cool Guys Don’t Look At Explosions” by The Lonely Island playing in the background*

Ohh, so it was Garrett that started the TripSimmons rumours for his own advantage? Amusement? idk

Uh oh the ALIENNNN --- Poor little Kree, though.

Thanks for reading!! What did you think?

[mangowright]

angsty philinda: “What did you do to him? …What did you DO to him?!”

somewhere around messy season 3 

There’s pulsing in her ears that can’t seem to be tamed down by the ‘calming’ exercises that she’d racked into herself. One, two, three. Her feet took her as fast as she could through the wall of damp grasses obstructing her view, crackling of little rocks crushing under her feet. She ran. Melinda May ran like hell like her life depended on each stomp she took herself off under the seeming gloom of the skies above her.

Not turning blue at any moment, only growing darker as each second passed by but it could also be her clouding vision—she was exhausted. But she had to run.

“May—May, you have to slow down—” The voice in her ears pleaded. God, she would throw the goddamn earpiece if she had time for it. It was annoying. Incessant noise in her already panicking mind. If something happened to Phil—she would never forgive herself.

(It happened once. And even now, she still hasn’t forgiven herself for it.)

“Can’t. How long—”

“Keep running—” The line gets choppier the further she reached the place. Daisy warned her about this. They must be using some signal jammer that prevented them from getting a clear point of where the Director was. Director, she called him for now. To keep it impersonal. To keep it professional. To keep the fear clawing at the back of her head from reaching the deepest vaults of her heart.

It wasn’t long before her tiresome feet took her to what resembled what was once a well-kept warehouse. It smelled of gunpowder, only faint as the rain had dampened her senses and slipped through the cracks of the roof of the warehouse.

“May—Coulson—nearby—by the storage room- “

It was surprising that no one had gone out for the noise. Maybe it was because of the rain. Lucky her.

“—May wait—don’t—”

There’s swift shadow reaching out—or rather intend to knock her out but she barely dodges, sliding down from whoever it had been and incapacitating them with a low blow to the knee and to the back of the head. She immediately reached for his sidearm and noticed the familiarity of the model.

“Daisy, the SVR’s got Coulson.”

One.

A sudden shadow reaches out in front of her and then again—eventually in a momentum she could catch and flip the figure back down to the ground with ease, regardless of what their weight was. It was never a problem with her. Look for the pressure points. Incapacitate. Rinse and repeat. In hopes that it does not come down to having to cross someone off.

They were people still. Humans. Mortals. She had to remind of herself that before red completely consumes her heart.

Her gut had told her to not show mercy. Her mind told her to be calm. But it isn’t the mind that functions when she fights. It’s just her—and her body tells her to do whatever it takes to get Coulson back to safety. Back to her.

She steps over a few guards she’d eliminated and immediately hides as soon as her eyes caught two guards heading towards her general direction. The bodies. Oh well.

Two.

Melinda does a side-step as soon as the barrel of their rifle was in her sight, using her small statute to elevate herself using one of the guard’s body and twisting her body in the most fluid manner—almost like a program she’d once performed but rabid and with intent to kill—as she snaps one neck off and the other one breaking free. Not for long. She immediately gets into a stance as he tries to lunge a punch to her stomach, making her take a rough step back before knocking him out with the pipe that had been her choice of weapon.

There had been rattling and a voice in the door she was approaching. She knows Phil’s at the other side of that door. But he was fussing. (Thank god he was conscious—alive) Something had to be up.

Three.

“No—Lin, don’t take another step—”

Her vision blurs for a moment as she’d realized that the sides of the door had been rigged with small explosives—all of her. God fucking damn it. She does not have to worry about the pulsing from her ears anymore—her sense of hearing had been rendered non-existent from the blast. She could feel shrapnel at the back of her neck, her feet, her palms, everywhere in fact.

She’s still conscious even after that. A scoff from an unfamiliar voice makes her gather that very fact. Goddamn Phil Coulson. Always getting kidnapped. It was a recurring thought throughout their relationship—their partnership. Knowing Phil, he must have gotten something worthy out of them—he had his ways—

The crackle that electricity makes jolts her out of her dazed reverie, her feet barely able to keep her standing up straight, her shoulder was bleeding from the glass shard buried deep within. She knows it’s Coulson that was the receiving end of it. And he was bleeding too. Not a lot like her—not as worse as her but he had bruises—one of the worst bruises she’d ever seen on him and maybe, maybe her blood boils.

The feeling doesn’t subside, not as long as she examines her partner. This was always the hard part. Listening to her feral instincts that screamed to make the bastards who’d dared do this pay, or to her good conscience that’s in the existence within her head in the voice of Phillip Coulson.

Always has been.

But her good conscience is slowly fluttering towards unconsciousness and something else entirely that even she would not be able to bring him back from.

(Or she might. God knows what she’d do if the world wills it so again.)

Adrenaline rushes through her once again—never failing and her feet catches up to the murderous impulse that is clawing at the back of her mind. He’s the last one. He will be the last one. Melinda will make sure of that.

Actions were always her forte. She did not ask what they’d done to Coulson—she knew what they’d done to Coulson (And they dared so.) But she’ll ask in each blow she can get until this godforsaken man that was twice her weight is unconscious—or beaten to death. It depends on how long her fists will hold up. There’s a faint voice in the background that’s begging for her to stop but her madness drowns it out.

And the only answer she’d want is the hollowing breath and shout that she manages out of him if he can still breathe—though right now, it’s just hollow. She’d broken larynxes before and some.

“—May!”

Daisy’s voice forces her back into reality. She inhales a sharp breath, the red clouding her mind slowly dissipating and enabling her to assess what she’d done. Almost killed the man who was torturing Coulson just earlier.

Not even a hint of remorse within her.

She loosens her grip of the man’s collar, almost torn to pieces. Both the clothing and the bloodied face of the man.

“May—is Coulson okay?”

She lets the man pummel to the ground before her and immediately went to Coulson’s aide. He was barely conscious. Barely breathing. Barely hanging on. And this was all too familiar. For both of them honestly. She never took a breath until she’d freed Coulson from his restrains—barely taking one at all even if she has him cradled in her arms.

“H-He—” She feels a sudden loss of her voice. She was quiet but she’d never felt so choked up before that she could barely speak coherently. Phil looked like he was in so much pain and it hurt her.

“—Lin?”

He’s never called her that for a long time. And if he even intended to—it meant it was not well. It meant that she almost broke her promise to him again. And another.

“Phil—don’t speak, we’ll get you help. I’m here.” She doesn’t expect the barrage of reassuring words from herself but there they are, in the open. He has to be okay. He has to be or she’ll never forgive herself. She hasn’t even forgiven herself from the first time.

Melinda doesn’t let the tears fall. But it threatens her so. And she knows he can see it too.

“…hey, Lin, don’t cry…”

She’s not aware if Daisy could hear any of this. But it ceases to be the number one concern in her mind—Phil was barely conscious and help just does not will itself to existence as sooner as she would like.

“…I would if you stopped being at the brink of death—”

I let them hurt you this much.

“—and I’m alive…hey, hey. You did good. You came back to me.”

She doesn’t honor his words with a verbal response and only held him in her arms, tighter but not so tight that it would hurt him. Melinda had thought it was always a given that she’d come back to him. Though she supposes, with them, it was never what was happening, it was what happened and what had been done.

Melinda keeps him in her arms, enclosed in the protection of her arms and whispered words she thinks he wouldn’t hear, “…I’ll always come back to you. And for you.”

And it was the truth. Bahrain. His death. Her vacation to Maui. His almost-death—this.

She supposes he hears it anyway, seeing as he has the most ridiculous grin painted on his face. She didn’t mind.

[fangirlasplosian]

12 Days of Holiday Shipping. December 14th: Ugly Sweaters

Fandom: MCU/Agents of SHIELD

Pairing: Clint/Coulson

Rating: PG

Word Count: 1188

The New York S.H.I.E.L.D. Christmas party was in full swing by the time Clint finally convinced himself to arrive. He hadn’t been planning on going at all, not with Nat away on a mission that year. It just wouldn’t be the same without her. “Go,” she insisted at her last check-in and Clint hovered around the overseeing agent’s desk. The agent was perturbed at having someone not involved with the mission listening in on the communique, but Taylor had been given instruction that when it came to Nat, and if she requested it, Clint could talk to her. There had been some grumbling from Taylor about Coulson “letting” Delta do whatever they wanted. It rankled Clint for Coulson’s professional integrity to be besmirched. He didn’t let them do whatever they wanted. If he did, he’d let Clint kiss him on the mouth whenever the urge arrived (which happened quite frequently). But Clint was also fully aware of S.H.I.E.L.D. harassment policy, and basic human decency, and refrained.

“You will not want to be sitting alone at home when literally everyone else you know will be having a good time,” Natasha continued. “And do not be foolish enough to think you won’t be missed.”

So, with some reluctance, Clint entered the large conference room. It was usually three separate meeting rooms, but the dividing walls were down. He wasn’t entirely certain as to why they were designed that way. The only time he saw the walls down were for officially unsanctioned parties.

“Jingle Bell Rock” blasted through the air. Agents, engineers, and scientist alike mingled with glasses of egg nog or mulled wine in their hands. In the center of the room, a large tree was covered in white tinsel that looked suspiciously like shredded documents. In one corner stood  a life-size, plastic Santa Claus with dark skin. Upon closer examination, someone had put a patch over one of its eyes.

“The other eye has a camera in it,” a tech slurred in a loud whisper. “Direct link to Fury’s office.” She leaned in close, breath heavy with rum. “He. Sees. All.” She winked one eye, then the other. Then the first one again before shuffling away.

Clint looked around for more familiar faces. He tried waving at Sitwell, but he was in some kind of serious pout, and only acknowledged Clint with a curt nod. Appearing far more approachable was Melinda May who was halfway through destroying a large slice of cake.

“So, why do you look like the Grinch hatching a plan, and Sitwell looks like he found coal in his stocking?”

“Because,” May’s lips never lost their cat-and-cream smirk, “he lost a bet, and I have extra holiday spending money.”

“Nice!” He tried to steal some frosting from her plate. She jabbed his finger with her plastic fork before he could touch it. “So, what was the bet?”

Melinda quirked an eyebrow. “He had simply fallen for the common myths surrounding certain senior agents.”

“What, he bet you could really break a man’s spine with your little finger?”

May’s mouth quickly turned downward. “If he had, he would have won.”

Clint stared at her for several seconds, waiting for her stone-serious expression to crack. It wasn’t happening. Clint waited a few seconds more. She never blinked. He cleared his throat. “Good to know. I’m going to… Go… Try the the guacamole.” He slid away, still feeling her eyes on him until he reached the buffet table.

The guac bowl was nearly empty. No surprise if it was Agent Morales’ abuelita’s secret recipe. Also going fast was a tray of cookies frosted with the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo. Clint grabbed one and took a bite. His tongue was greeted with a decadent, buttery, sugary, wave of sweetness. And was that a hint of? Cinnamon and ginger spice? It tasted like being wrapped in a warm quilt on a cold, snowy night. He shoved the rest of the cookie in his mouth, greedy for the flavor. He immediately grabbed two more.

“So, you like them?”

Clint turned and coughed in surprise, spraying half-chewed crumbs all over - oh futz - Agent Coulson. Clint tried to apologize, but it came out garbled around the cookie bits still escaping from between his lips.

Coulson was wiping the crumbs away from his face with his left hand, and the right hand was trying to brush off his- “What are you wearing?” Clint managed to ask, mouth now clear.

“This?” Coulson pointed at his own chest. This was a fuzzy, green sweater with a giant reindeer face complete with red, pom-pom nose and plastic, googly eyes. “It’s my present from Melinda. Jasper didn’t seem to think much of it. I think it’s very festive, don’t you?”

It’d be more festive on my bedroom floor, Clint’s brain provided. He crammed another cookie in his mouth to keep the words from escaping that way. Coulson was watching him eat with bright eyes and the tight-lipped smile that appeared whenever he was pleased with Clint’s mission performance. It was an expression Clint would (and had) jump off a building to see. “What?” Clint asked, making sure he swallowed the (unbelievably delicious) bite first.

“I’m just glad you like them. It’s my first time trying this recipe.”

“You made these?” Clint looked down at the frosted piece of heaven in his hand, to the fuzzy reindeer, and up at Coulson’s (blushing?) face. “You’re amazing!”

Coulson’s cheeks turned a deeper shade a pink, and wasn’t that just the prettiest thing ever. Clint was just relieved he hadn’t blurted out “I love you!” Which he did. He really did. Every new thing Clint learned about him (and he just got about three new facts in the span of one minute) just compounded how perfect (and incredibly unattainable) Agent Coulson was.

Coulson parted his lips, as if about to speak, but stopped himself. His eyes flickered to something over Clint’s shoulder. When his gaze fell back to Clint’s face, his blush was fading and his jaw was set in a familiar line of resolve. “I have more. Back at my place.”

There was a tinge in his voice that in anyone else, Clint would would say was flirtatious, but… Nah… “Cool, so you’ll bring more tomorrow?”

Coulson raised he brows meaningfully. “I’m saying, if you’d like some, you can come with me to my apartment.”

Okay, that… That  was a come on. Senior Agent Phillip J. Coulson was coming on to him. Clint’s brain needed some time to process that after the hard shutdown the realization caused. “Yes, please. Thank you, sir.”

Coulson gave him the brightest, full-blown smile Clint had ever seen on him, and Clint’s heart nearly exploded.

They left the party together. Coulson’s (“You’re going to have to call me Phil once we step foot out of this building) hand was a warm guide on the small of Clint’s back. Out of the corner of his eye, Clint saw Sitwell glumly putting a stack of bills into May’s outstretched hand.

[josephinemarche]

Prompt for a short drabble where Coulson rescues May from the framework and saves her life after she stops breathing and they finally kiss for real after

a/n: so first, thank you for the prompt because it inspired a few days of delightful and angsty mulling, which I loved, and second I am sorry that this is in no way short. Oops. Also Daisy sort of saves her from the Framework and saves her life? But there’s kissing, I promise. So enjoy :)

ao3

She stops breathing.

It takes Phil a moment to realise the blur of movement out the corner of his eye is Daisy and Jemma pulling May to the ground, that the muffled sounds he can barely hear beyond the pressure building in his ears are their frantic voices calling out to Elena and Piper for assistance.  

He jerks his arm from the restraints holding him upright with a sharp groan – feels the crack as his bones and his body move with his brain for the first time in too many days, the ache down his spine as his legs try to push him forwards, stumbling from the rack and falling against the nearest wall.

Phil feels like he’s drowning, like he can’t blink past the burn of fluorescent lights at the top of his vision or breathe through the sickly sharp smell of sweat that lingers in the air. The rush of blood in his ears is deafening now that they’ve been flung back into their fragile, failing bodies.

“She’s not breathing,” Daisy shouts, and whatever fog he’s been caught in evaporates slightly. Fear floods his body and Phil pushes himself from the wall, stumbling towards the other end of the room where Daisy and Jemma are crouched over her body. She’s not breathing, his brain screams. She’s not alive.

“Melinda,” he murmurs.

Only moments ago he was kissing her goodbye.

Someone catches him by the shoulder as he stumbles across the room and his vision blinks, white spots dancing as he sags against them.

Everything goes black.

—

He kisses her right before Daisy rips them into reality.

He knows now that she’s not really Melinda May. That he’s not really Phil Coulson.

That they were never married. Never bought a house together and filled it with books and plants and photographs. Never visited Dublin or São Paulo or Lisbon or Sydney or Prague. Never spent a summer backpacking around Spain with only his vacation Spanish, or visited her father down in Sun City for Christmas and New Year.

He’s not a high school teacher. She’s not a Hydra agent working to destroy them from within.

Perhaps the only thing that’s remained the same is that they’re still trying to save the world together.

He takes her trembling hands as Daisy disappears and presses a soft kiss to her palm, his lips lingering over the underside of her wedding band like he has a thousand times since they were married.

Melinda curls into his arms and Phil wants to hold her this way forever, drag her from the room and away from this place. Keep them both running as far from reality as possible.

“It’s not real,” she tells him, and he wants to laugh even through the ache in his chest. Of course she knows what he’s thinking. Of course she’s the practical one tugging him back to shore.

“It’s real, Lin. We’re real.”

“Not like this.”

He can feel it, the ache of responsibility sitting in his chest, the phantom throbbing in his left arm and the echo of his real self at the back of his consciousness. Phillip J Coulson. Agent and former Director of SHIELD. Born in Manitowoc, Wisconsin. Recruited at the age of 17. Died May 4, 2012.

He’s not her husband. Not her lover. Not her partner.

Not a teacher. Not a baseball coach.

Not this man.

God, he wants to be.

“I love you,” he whispers, and presses his lips to her forehead, her nose. He kisses her cheeks and her lips and the corner of her mouth. She smiles against him and if he closes his eyes he can almost pretend that they’re not about to lose each other.

“I love you. That’s real,” she murmurs. “Please don’t forget that, Phil. Please.”

He kisses her, like he has a million times and never before and just as he’s beginning to feel something – the weight of her in his arms and the soft taste of her on his lips – they’re gone.

—

It takes her a day to wake up.

Phil is half asleep, curled in the armchair by her bedside despite prolonged protest from Simmons that he’s still recovering and in need of proper rest.  

Every part of his body aches like he’s growing back into his bones, but Melinda’s hand is warm in his and he can’t move through the panicked thought that if she wakes and he’s not there something delicate between them will have broken.

They’ve always had terrible timing, but he remembers her words from those last minutes in the Framework.

I love you. That’s real.

Even if it’s not, he needs her to wake up.

He’s dozing when he feels a tight squeeze of his hand; the warm, damp press of her fingers against his own. She’s turned on her side and facing him when Phil opens his eyes.

He feels something rise in his chest, a longing to move towards her and press his face to her neck until they’re breathing against each other. Something intense and intimate leftover from the coded memories of the Framework. He pushes it back down and instead moves the chair forwards, resting his arms along the side of the bed and his head pillowed on top of them.

“Hi,” she whispers, throat croaky with disuse.

He reaches up to brush her hair from her eyes, distracted by the way her pupils follow his fingers; the way her eyelashes flutter as he lets himself thumb gently at the smooth skin of her forehead.

“Welcome back,” he tells her.

She smiles wryly, “Hell of a trip.”

There are so many things he wants to tell her. How he’ll never forgive himself for not realising it wasn’t her. How he opened that bottle of Haig but there’s still enough left for them. How he’d known, when he realised she was missing, that no matter what boundaries they’d held themselves to before they meant nothing to him now, that nothing in the world could ever compare to her – that she was it for him. Everything to him.

That he remembers what she said in that other world that’s already starting to slip slowly from his memories, like a gossamer dream slips away when you wake.

That he loves her. Desperately. Achingly. Entirely.

“Phil,” she murmurs, and there’s something in her voice that tells him that she understands; the weight of his name on her tongue, like saying his name somehow brings them home.

They’ll have to talk about this later, but for now he lets himself slip closer to her until he can feel the warm weight of her breath against his cheek and the slide of her hair under his fingertips as he moves his palm to cup the back of her neck.

He kisses the corner of her mouth and lets her sink into him. Kisses her lips and lets the world fade away to her mouth and teeth and smile and the breathless noise she makes as his hand tightens gently in her hair. The way her heartbeat stutters at the dip of her clavicle as he sweeps his other hand down her neck; the soft skin under his fingertips.

The way their muscles move under their skin as he pulls himself closer to her, the ache in his joints and the curve of her body and the way she smiles into his mouth, her own fingers scratching at the stubble on his jaw.

And all he can think is that she’s alive. So brilliantly, wonderfully alive. Heart pounding, hands hot and sweaty, blood pulsing under her skin and tears catching on her eyelashes.

“This is real,” she murmurs, and Phil believes her.

“We’re real.”

[guardiansgamora]

❝ So, is that tights your wearing or what is that? ❞

This wasn’t the first time she had gotten that question – and she doubted it would be the last. Though usually, the comment came with something about how great her ‘cosplay’ was, and after some prodding, she gathered that cosplay was just another word for a costume. Gamora didn’t bother looking down to check to see what he was looking at – if it was her hands or the small amount of skin that wearing a skirt showed of her legs – the answer was all the same. “It’s my skin,” Gamora said. 

She wasn’t aggressive with her words – not combative either (which was rare for Gamora). She waited. Her dark eyes looking into his, waiting for the reaction. To see what this human thought of her, an alien. The reactions she had gotten so far were… well, they were mixed. Someone understood what it was like to be different (and a few were alien themselves) but, mostly? The people of New York looked at Gamora like she was a monster. The question now, was what side would this man fall on? 

[superhero-daugthers11]

“Definitely, we won’t say anything.” She said hugging her brother. “Wow it must be hard to keep that all a secret. I wouldn’t be able to for sure.”

“Well also your kind of a show off....” Phillip argues, slightly regretting bringing it up. “It’s not a bad thing, but you always liked the attention and admiration you would get from people when they knew. I just wanted to disappear and blend in.“

“But you don’t have to blend anymore. You don’t have be afraid the world will judge or anything, just worry about you. you are a star on your own. Look at all you have achieved.”

He gave a big smile abd hugged her tight. Suddenly the abt hers walked in.

Coulson turned to the guys, dressed in full uniform. “This is: Thor of Asgard, iron man, Bruce banner, Natasha romanoff, captain America, and Hawkeye.

Back to the future!

“You are not gana believe all the cool stuff they have in the future! They have things that you probably thought could only be real in comics or books.” She told her husband as she packed a bag. “They have phones that can connect to your car and play music. Cars that tell you how to get to where you need to be! Video phones and you can talk to your phone and it will have a conversation with you! You can even watch videos of people you don’t even know on the internet! Ohhh abd if someone speaks another language you can use your phone to translate what they say!! Not to mention robot toy dogs! Oh and the movies are incredible! You should see the new Star Wars the effects are like beyond awesome!”

[bradfordchens]

Making deals with demons AU + philinda

She is, without a doubt, the most stunning thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

He swallows, digging his nails into his palm to remind himself she’s a demon. A demon he’s trying to make a deal with to save his mother’s life. Not the hottest woman he’s ever met.

“You must know something, if you’re able to summon me at will,” the demon arches an eyebrow lazily, crossing her arms.

She’s shorter than he’s expecting, dressed in tight, black leather pants and a leather jacket, boots on that still leave her standing somewhere around his chin. Her eyes are dark, though they flicker with the red flame that signified demonhood, and he swallows, hard.

“I want to make a deal,” he says after he takes a breath, squaring his shoulders. The demon looks at him in interest, heat sparking in her eyes. “I’ll trade you my soul if you save my mother. She’s dying.”

The interest dies in the demons eyes, and she scoffs.

“I stopped making deals for people’s souls a century ago. Maybe you don’t know anything,” she waves her hand in annoyance, though the salt ring she’s standing in doesn’t allow her to leave.

“Then I’ll sell all of me,” he declares, and that catches her interest. “So, Melinda May- do we have a deal?”

A smirk slips over her lips, and she cocks an eyebrow, gaze scanning him up and down.

“You’ll certainly be fun to break,” she replies, considering. “You’re very pure. Haven’t had a nearly white-light in nearly four decades.”

She straightens up, eyes gone totally red as her entire form begins to shimmer.

“Phillip Coulson, I accept your terms. I’ll save your mother, and in turn, you sell yourself to me. For eternity,” she replies, and Phil feels the air leave his lungs as the weight of the deal presses down on his shoulders. He cries out- a burning heat scorches the skin of his wrist, and before his eyes, a brand appears. “And now- you’re mine.”

She snaps her fingers, and they both disappear.