#quakeriderwritersguild

[libbyweasley]

Something Special

A very happy birthday to the lovely @besidemethewholedamntime​, the most amazing bean. I hope your day is as wonderful as you are! <3

As always, thanks to @blancasplayground​ for all of her help! <3 <3 <3

And I would just like to say that this fic is definitely about cooking, for the prompt First Time Cooking Together for the Quakerider Writers Guild First Time Challenge. So if you are thinking it's about something else, that's on you. :)

Summary -  Fitz and Jemma's first time cooking together isn't what they expected.

Rated - T

Words ~ 1,000

Read on AO3

@quakeriderwritersguild​ @aosficnet2​

[theclaravoyant]

Jemma’s birthday

AN ~ Happy first day of Femslash Feb! Written for my @quakeriderwritersguild  Valentines Day prompt "Skimmons + First Gifts/Presents", and also fills my MCU Kink Bingo Skimmons square (note - it is rated G/T, but you are welcome to prompt me something smuttier if you like!) Enjoy <3

Relationships: romantic Skimmons, some happily platonic Fitz & Daisy Rated: G/T. Fluff.

Read on AO3 (~1100wd)

Jemma’s birthday

Daisy sighed and spun the quarter on the table-top and slapped her hand down on it again. Between that, one of those pinch-free hair ties, and a surprising amount of sand she had laid out in front of her, there was not much else in her pocket, handbag, or otherwise for inspiration.

Spin. Slap.

Spin. Slap.

She turned the question over and over in her mind, but it seemed the more she thought about it, the less answers came to her.

Spin-  

“Christ!” Fitz snapped from across the table, slapping the lid of his laptop closed with an eye-twitch of extreme frustration. “Would you like me to get you a clicky pen? A chalkboard for your nails, maybe?”

“Sorry.” Daisy turned the coin between her fingers this time, pensive. “I’m just trying to think of something good for Jemma. She always gives such kickass presents and this is her first birthday since we’ve been together. I really want to make it special, I just…”

She gestured at the lint, sand, and lonely hair tie. Fitz nodded in sympathy.

“I remember our first year at the Academy. First Christmas away from home and all that, I tracked down a half-decent tea. Was pretty proud of myself ‘til she went and imported a proper care package – baked beans, Hobnobs, crumpets, the whole bit. It’s the fatal combination of thoughtfulness and money. Not easy to compete when you’ve got nothing to your name but twenty-five p and a prehistoric hippie van.”

“Huh.” Daisy smiled to herself, imagining the scandal on Fitz’s face – no doubt quickly replaced by undying devotion – as he watched Jemma come in the door she had constructed in her mind with a comedically large hamper of British goodies. She remembered the first gift Jemma had really ever given her; the hula girl from her van and then her bunk, saved from being trashed or thrown into storage. Jemma didn’t really count it as a gift – it was Daisy’s own belonging, after all – but still, Daisy appreciated the sentiment.

Sentiment. Hula-girl. Twenty-five p and a prehistoric hippie van.

Piece by piece, the idea fell into place and suddenly it solidified, perfect, before her. Daisy bolted out of her seat, sending the hair elastic flying.

“I’m a genius,” she declared.

“I- what?”

Fitz, blindsided, blanked on an appropriately witty response, but it was already too late; Daisy was already sprinting down the hall. At least, she was for a few seconds. Then she came back, and stuck her head through the doorway.

“Can I borrow fifty bucks for gas?” she asked.

“Sure.”

“You’re the best.” Beaming, she was on her way.

--

“Where are we?” Jemma wondered, and not for the first time. She had allowed a very excited, slightly nervous Daisy to blindfold her this morning before they got in the car and though she knew the end of their journey would be nothing but a pleasant surprise, her curiosity was insatiable. They had just slowed down, and Daisy had lowered the music. They must be pulling in somewhere. “Are we nearly there?”

“It’s a surprise,” Daisy explained – and again, not for the first time. She couldn’t help but smile, watching Jemma twist in her seat and listen intently at the window, trying to take everything in. “But yes, we’re nearly there.”

“We’re in a forest,” Jemma decided.

“Maybe,” Daisy teased. Of course, they were – with the smell of pines and the sound of the birds it wasn’t hard to guess. “That’s for me to know and you to find out. Now, wait here, I’ve just got to sort something – B R B.”

Jemma nodded, and Daisy stopped the engine. Her feet crunched across something – gravel, leaf litter, pine needles? Jemma compiled a list of suspects in her mind – and she conversed in a low voice with someone. She laughed, and returned to the car.

Jemma reached for the blindfold. Surely by now it was time to take it down?

“Not yet,” Daisy said. There was a smile in her voice. A thrill of anticipation that made Jemma want to break free of the confines of the car, and touch and smell everything their surrounds had to offer and unravel Daisy’s secrets. But then Daisy reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers, and the curiosity – while far from sated – took its pause.

Jemma couldn’t tell how long it was until they finally stopped again. Daisy had lowered the window, letting the fresh air and the birds fill her mind and distract her even as she tried her best to archive what she was smelling and hearing and where in the world they could be.

No amount of mental cataloguing, though, could have prepared Jemma for what she saw when Daisy helped her out of the car and around the back of the van and opened the doors and sat her on something cushioned and finally – finally – announced –

“Okay. You can take it off now.”

Jemma ripped the blindfold down from her eyes, and the breath caught in her throat.

Stretching out before her was a glorious expanse of pine forest, rolling over hills and mountains and valleys like an ocean of rich green life. The sun was starting to set, bathing the whole scene in a soft pink twilight. Birds returned to their nests, others gambolled toward the horizon. Wind rustled the trees.

“Happy Birthday,” Daisy whispered.

Jemma blinked, freed from the entrancing magic of the scene before her for long enough to absorb where they were sitting – in the back of Daisy’s old van, hula girl and all, surrounded by pillows and blankets and trinkets from layers and layers of life.

“Daisy,” Jemma breathed. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

She leaned across the space between them and Daisy was happy to oblige with a kiss. But while Jemma would have been content to make out for hours in the soft pink light, Daisy had other plans. Grinning, she reached behind her and pulled a picnic basket into the space between them.

“Hold on,” she said, “I’m starving.”

Jemma blinked down at their interruption in surprise as Daisy flipped the lid, pulled out a punnet of strawberries, and commenced opening a bottle of champagne.

“You know,” Jemma remarked, “if you’re hungry, you really should have more protein.”

“Disagree,” Daisy retorted. As if to demonstrate, she bit into a strawberry, took a swig of champagne, and leaned in for another kiss.

Jemma had to admit – she had a point.

[sunalsolove]

Written for the @quakeriderwritersguild​ Firsts Challenge. My prompt was First Pet Together. Er...I did First Petting Together ;-) 

Puppy Love

T, 1.6K words, Robbie Reyes/Daisy Johnson 

A High School AU set in Texas. Robbie likes Daisy. She likes him back. But nothing is easy when you're in High School.

AO3 LINK

Beta’d by the wonderful @robotgort​

cw for mentions of homecoming mums, no archive warnings apply

[memorizingthedigitsofpi]

MackElena kissing in Cartagena for @quakeriderwritersguild‘s  Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Valentine Challenge 2019

Prompt: Kiss in an International Location

[besidemethewholedamntime]

first sunsets

Written for the @quakeriderwritersguild Valentine’s Day Challenge who prompted me ‘Fitzsimmons and first kiss at the Perthshire Cottage.’ This was so fun and it’s literally just a soft moment. I hope you enjoy! 

{Read on Ao3}

Or read Below!

The sky is exactly the colour it would be in a children’s painting.

It’s the first thing she thinks whilst they get out of the moving van and begin unloading boxes. It’s exactly the colour of the paint she used as a child. So bright. So blue. So utterly full of possibilities.

“What you looking at?” Fitz asks, standing next to her with the ‘Office’ box in his hands. He peers upwards. “Something wrong with the house?”

“Oh, no,” Jemma smiles, shaking her head. “Just looking at the sky, is all. Very blue.”

“Very sunny,” Fitz remarks. “I wouldn’t get used to the sun if I were you. It’ll just lead to disappointment.”

“You do know that England is hardly Spain, right?”

“Look at the kind of Summer you guys get and get back to me on that!” Indignation suits him; his cheeks flushed with summer and righteousness makes him seem more handsome. However, he sidles over to her, nudges her gently. “Is kind of pretty, though.”

It’s ridiculously perfect and pretty, just the kind of moving day that one could hope for. “Gorgeous.”

He just smiles at her and shakes his head, as though he can’t quite believe it. Well, neither can she. They’re finally here. Outside of their new home in Perth, jobs as consultants and well-wishes from all of their friends with them. For the first time in such a long time, things actually feel alright.

She moves boxes out of the van, piling them by room on the front gravel. The moving van will need to be returned soon, and so they move quickly but still methodical. The sun begins to set but the day is still warm and it’s only when the last box is out, and her new house stands before her in the waning light does she realise how much it looks like home.

The box she carries goes down on the ground and, hands at her hips in a very Fitz-esque pose. Deep breath in then out. The country air smells unlike anything she’s ever smelled before. Well… that’s not entirely true. It smells like it did when she was a child, when she knew that, somehow, someday, she would move right back here after she had made a brilliant life for herself.

Looking over at Fitz, who carries a box labelled ‘Academy/PhD things’ from the bedroom pile to the office pile, she knows that her seven year old self would be very proud of her right now. And she knows that her selves from the bottom of the ocean, from the blue planet with no sun, from the framework, all know that it was worth it, now. She has done it for them. Given them the future that, finally, she knows is deserved.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Fitz moves to stand beside her, mimicking her pose. “Feels like we’re in a picture or something.”

Jemma looks at him looking up at the house, then looks at the seemingly endless piles of boxes all around them. Quite a picture they make.

“This is it,” she says, feeling suddenly sentimental. “This is home.”

“Aw, Jemma.” She feels him looking over, that half smile on his lips. “Home’s always been where we’ve been together.”

And just how does he do that? How does it spill so naturally from him? It would be rather infuriating if she didn’t love it so much. If she didn’t love him so much.

“Oh, I know.” Meeting his eyes, she matches his smile. “It’s just, well it’s just lovely to have a feeling of being settled, isn’t it? Something that’s ours and only ours, for once.”

Of course many things have been theirs over the years. So many moments that, stacked end on end, would reach into the infinite. Glances and touches and kisses that are theirs and only theirs and can only ever belong to them.

But she likes the idea of something tangible. Something to wake up in in the morning and go to sleep in at night. Somewhere to hold each other. Somewhere to, maybe, bring up their own family. It’s this permanence, this thing that cannot be swayed or altered or erased completely, that she needs.

His arm comes around her and she allows her head to fall into his shoulder. Once upon a time she only dreamed of this. “I know what you mean.”

Of course, he does. He’s Fitz. For better or worse, he’s always understood her more than she’s ever understood herself.

Her head goes up and his comes down and they meet in the middle the way that’s become normal of late. Kissing Fitz is not like it used to be. It used to be urgent. It used to be like it had to be right in that moment otherwise it may never happen again. She used to kiss him and taste desperation, and she thought he tasted it too.

It’s not like that anymore and thank God. Now she can take her time. Now it’s slow and soft and sweet because there’s more time. Now she kisses him and tastes love and knows that’s all he can taste, too.

They’ve come so far. Here, in this future, they have finally arrived.

They break apart. Forehead and against forehead. His hand on her cheek and hers around the back of his neck. Love love love all around.

“Well, Jemma,” he whispers, smiling in a way that makes her feel weak at the knees. “Welcome home.”

[modern-victoria]

Quakerider kissing at a carnival for @quakeriderwritersguild ‘s St. Valentine’s Day Challenge 2019

[365paperdolls]

Hold me close

This was written for the @quakeriderwritersguild ‘s Agents of SHIELD St Valentine’s  Day Challenge 2019. The prompt was ‘I’m sorry’ kiss.

Ship: Huntingbird

Rating: T

Tags: Post 3x13, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, fight

Word Count: 430

It hits her exactly three days later. They had a fight, of course they did. It was over something minor, yet Hunter had stormed out leaving her alone for the first time in their cheap motel. That's when it dawns on her that she can't call Mack or Coulson, visit Fitz or Simmons or spar with Daisy or May. She's truly alone having lost almost all the people who she cared about who were still alive in one night, except one.

She rarely cries. She learnt very early on that in her line of work how to suppress her emotions because she lost good people all the time. Now, she needed to cry though. Part of her thought she was over-reacting as none of her friends had died. But her body wasn't letting her override the tears. No matter how hard she tried to suppress them, they kept streaming down her face as she sat motionless on the bed.

The door opening brings Bobbi back to reality. She grabs her staves and stands up in case the intruder isn't Hunter. Turns out it is. He emerges seconds later carrying a bag of groceries. As soon as she sees him, she drops the staves and sits back down.

"Thought we could use some food." He explains as he places the groceries on the small coffee table. He begins to ramble an apology for what occurred earlier when he notices the tear marks on her face. He stops unpacking the groceries and immediately goes to sit next to her.

"Are you ok?" He asks sincerely.

"I'm fine." She bites back but more tears continue to stream down her face.

"It's ok if you're not. I'm not." He reassures her whilst intertwining his fingers with her closet hand.

She relaxes into him, letting go whatever they were fighting about before no longer important in that moment. He wraps his arms around her and holds her tightly as she cries. They don't speak. When she finally pulls away he places a quick kiss on her temple.

"I'm sorry." He says softly.

"It doesn't matter about before."

"Not just about before, about all of this."

"This isn't your fault, I just miss them." She shakes her head whilst looking down.

He lifts her chin up until their eyes are level.

He nods understandingly.

Their lips meet in a sweet kiss. It's less passionate than their usual ones yet it's comforting. Whatever anger she had towards him vanishes. She still feels safe. She's sad about what has happened but she's grateful that he's here with her.

[soulofevil]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Robbie Reyes/Skye | Daisy Johnson/Antoine Triplett Characters: Skye | Daisy Johnson, Robbie Reyes, Antoine Triplett, Jemma Simmons, Leo Fitz Additional Tags: Spin the Bottle, Kissing, a hint of fitzsimmons, MCU Kink Bingo Summary:

After realizing how many of his teammates missed out on some normal teenage fun, Trip convinces them to play a game of Spin the Bottle.

I combined my @mcukinkbingo square for Trip/Daisy/Robbie with my @quakeriderwritersguild prompt for spin the bottle kisses and made this! 

[ordinarilyextrodinary]

I’ll wait for you to come home

mackelena- picking you up at the airport

@quakeriderwritersguild

[florchis]

You carry the sword, I will carry the shield

[AO3] {May&Daisy, rated T, 1200w}

Summary: Melinda struggles when Daisy gets hurt during a mission [A Captain Carter AU].

Notes: For @quakeriderwritersguild Valentine’s event. My prompt was: “Here, drink this. You’ll feel better.”

Sneak-Peek:

Melinda brings her cup to her mouth to not have to reply. She can not take the compliment when she doesn’t remember anything about that moment except the excessive pounding of her blood in her ears. It is good to know that even in the middle of chaos, her hands can still be her hands.

After she puts down her own cup, she pushes Daisy’s towards her. “Here, drink this. You’ll feel better.”

As she was expecting, Daisy’s nose furrows when the smell of honeyed tea hits her nostrils.

“Wasn’t there anything else to drink?” she complains in her most childish voice, and for the first time since Daisy got hurt in the middle of the mission, Melinda can breathe. “You and your tea.”

[acerobbiereyes]

My @quakeriderwritersguild fic, Warm Me Up, is up!

[theclaravoyant]

Dancing with our hands tied (a Quakerider playlist)

Happy @quakeriderwritersguild Valentines Challenge! Unfortunately now that 8tracks is not working, I have no playlist-compiling platform but I didn’t think of that! So please click on each song to link to the Youtube video.

The theme was “firsts” and my prompt was “first dance” - I may have took it a little liberally, but I hope you enjoy!

(note: some songs contain sexual, drinking and/or drug references)

-

Dancing With Our Hands Tied - Taylor Swift

Sucker Punch - Sigrid

Survivors - Selena Gomez

Heaven in Hiding - Halsey

Faster - Matt Nathanson

Stranger - Tove Lo

Think About Us - Little Mix ft. Ty Dolla Sign

Perfect Places - Lorde

Last Dance - Dua Lipa

[momentofch-aos]

QWG Valentine's Day Challenge

Prompt: "I'll do it for you" from @quakeriderwritersguild

So I think this is my first proper Tumblr prompt challenge! Which is exciting. Whether I actually fulfilled the prompt? Who knows. I may have changed it slightly here and there.

And who better to write for than my favourite pair of Shield Agents.

Disclaimer: Daniel's struggle as an amputee is discussed in the first part. I have tried to do as much research as possible, but please feel free to correct me if anything is wrong or out of place.

As usual with me, it's pretty fluffy even if there is some angst.

Read it on Ao3 or below

1)

He hated it. He hated the burning rage that filled his veins when he couldn’t manage something independently. It was a feeling that had become less frequent over recent years. In the 50’s, dealing with a unyielding prosthetic leg came meant specific care and resting, as well as time spent without the leg as part of as his routine. That had become second nature over time, but since he came to the future and was gifted a fancy, as-close-to-life-like-as-possible Fitzsimmons prosthetic, it had been a slightly different story.

It hadn’t been entirely miraculous. It would be a lie to say that the phantom limb pain had stopped, it hadn’t just like the doctors told him when he first woke up missing his limb and although Jemma and Elena spoke to him about potential therapies, it still plagued him.

Yes, he still had to take care of it and spend time without it on occasionally, but he could run and jump and walk without needing to carry a cane or crutch. He could lift his wife up in his arms and dance with her barefoot in the kitchen unencumbered. For the first time since the war, he could live exactly how he wanted, not trailing behind as he carefully picked the best terrain to walk across.

Maybe that was why he felt flooded with anger right now. It had been a long time since he felt like he couldn’t do something a guy with two legs could do.  It wasn’t anyone’s fault, and if anything, it was lucky that the bullet had gone through the prosthetic rather than his remaining leg. But as he stood there on the landing with one crutch to support himself once again, he had to stop himself from shaking in frustration and a little self-loathing.

‘Pull yourself together Sousa.’ A helpful voice provided in his head, that sounded familiar, but he wasn’t quite able to place.

He was stood, staring at the ladder that lead to the attic, the boxes of Christmas decorations gathered on the landing. Despite being mid-February, the two of them had been whisked off on several different missions since the New Year and they barely found time to take them down, let alone put them in the attic.

‘Think about it Sousa, you’d have had to do this in 1955 LA.’  He almost laughed as he considered this life to be a cushty one, in comparison to back then. Life was sure nicer with an advanced prosthesis and a superhuman (or super inhuman) wife, but it wasn’t easy. They were still fighting for world security, still battling many of the same enemies just now guns had been replaced by blasters that looked like they should be from one of those sci-fi films Daisy had shown him with the light swords. ‘Lightsabers.’ He corrected himself out of instinct, even though his better half wasn’t there to tease him about his mistake.

Refocussing on his task, he looked from the pile of boxes to the ladder to his crutch and back again. Without even his prosthetic from the 50’s, it would be difficult to pull himself up in the attic, let alone carry the boxes up. Reasonably, he also knew he could wait for Daisy to get home and take them up. But he wanted them off the landing. Away.  His eyes then fell on the hallway cupboard that currently held a vacuum, a rarely used clothes drying rack and some of Daisy’s winter coats. ‘That could work…’

“I’m home!” Daisy shouted into the house as she entered, expecting to find her husband writing reports at the table or watching TV on the couch since he was supposed to be on rest and recuperation following his latest field injuries. Although the bullet had temporarily put his prosthetic out of action, the rest of his body had also been badly beaten and bruised as he took the brunt of the onslaught of enemy agent’s attacks, even he refused to admit how much he was hurting. Mack had ordered him to take at least a week, but every night she’d come home to find him doing something work based, whether that be writing reports or brushing up on cases from in between his original time and his current one.

But now the house was different, Daniel wasn’t on the ground floor, and she could hear the shuffling of something at the top of the stairs, the familiar and regular soft thud of his crutch on the carpet. Carefully dropping the takeaway she’d brought home on the coffee table and throwing her jacket over the end of the bannister, her boots already discarded as soon as she’d walked through the door, she padded up the stairs to see the attic ladder dropped down into place, and her husband not currently in sight. She stood for a moment, contemplating how her smart-ass husband had managed to get up the narrow rickety ladder on one leg and a crutch, no doubt in her mind that if he wanted to do it, he would have found her way.

Her mind stopped pondering when he backed out of the hallway closet, smirking proudly at something inside. Noting the earphone in one of his ears, she now realised why he hadn’t noticed she was standing there yet, and she chuckled before whipping a hand towel down from the stack outside the bathroom. He startled when he got hit in the side of the head with a rolled-up towel, only to see his wife laughing at him from the top of the stairs.

Taking the earphone out, the sound of his favourite true crime podcast fading out, he smiled as she walked towards him.

“What have you been up to Sousa?” She wound an arm round his waist as she pressed a kiss to his jaw. She moved her head to see the boxes of Christmas decorations neatly stacked in the cupboard, everything fitted in just so. “You didn’t need to do this on your own, you could have waited for me, I would have helped.”

“I know, but it needed done and I found a way to do it.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, before softly muttering something just loud enough for her to here. “I needed to do it. Just to prove I could.” She looked at him with a soft look of understanding in those eyes that he fell in love with four years ago.

“Okay.” His lips met with hers in a soft exchange, one that threatened to lead elsewhere if they let it continue.

“I do need you to figure out where to put your extra clothes though. I didn’t know what to put in the guest room or in our closet. And the drying rack, I figure we could donate it or put it in the attic if we think we’re ever going to actually use it.” He said as he pulled away, making her roll her eyes at his ruining of the moment.

“I’ll do it, for you.” She whispered, dropping another brief kiss to his lips, before stooping to pick up the pile of clothes on the floor and taking the short walk to dump them on the bed, only to turn back and see her husband looking at her with a raised eyebrow. “I’ll put them away before we go to bed. Don’t you worry about it. C’mon Mr Organisation, I’m starving.” She tapped his backside lightly as she passed him, before skipping down the stairs towards to the awaiting food, leaving her husband to follow her with a goofy, joyous grin across his face.

2)

“This is infuriating.” Daisy said through her teeth, throwing her sock at the wall in frustration and allowing her body to fall back on the bed. The swell of her stomach was so big at this point that not only was it hard on her back and hips, but it was preventing her from doing very menial tasks, like putting her socks on or picking something up that had fallen on the floor. Which was maddening.

What was worse was how people reacted to her. Fellow agents treating her with kid gloves and new recruits bending over backwards to help her unnecessarily, practically diving to the floor if something fell or offering to fetch things for her if she showed even the slightest bit of discomfort. She knew they meant well and that they were probably scared stiff of the ‘legendary Quake’ and her monumental pregnancy mood swings, but it was getting ridiculous. And she still had a month and a half left of this.

Despite, the harder parts she did love being pregnant. Something that had been so indescribably scary to her when she first found out about her baby, but now she loved it. Loved feeling her move around or kick against a hand pressed to the stretched skin of her stomach. Loved catching her wonderful husband looking at her and the bump with that adoring look that made her heart flutter and the way he spoke to their daughter in soft gentle whispers when he thought she was asleep. Or the way he’s started reading children’s book aloud in the evening after learning that babies can learn to recognise voices from inside the womb.

Watching him prepare to be a father was another thing she loved. Not a week after she’d told him that they were expecting, he’d passed her a tablet with a list of cribs and various other baby furniture that he’d research and short listed based on safety ratings, reviews from other parents and their own sense of interior design. Watching him build the crib and other furniture with Mack and Flint had been a whole other adventure (flatpack furniture apparently wasn’t much of a thing in the 50’s) and she almost cried as he proudly stood back to admire their handiwork in the freshly painted nursery once it was all done (okay maybe a few dainty happy tears had been shed).

But right now, all she wanted to do was put her damn socks on so she could get ready for work. It was bad enough that none of her regular clothes no longer fit her. Around the house she had taken to stealing Daniel’s t-shirts to sleep in as not only was it comfy, but it smelled like him, which just radiated comfort to her even more.

She sighed slightly, her hand smoothing over the soft fabric of her maternity workout top that was stretched over her stomach. She heard the floorboards creak and her gaze fell on her husband standing at the door, his hair yet untamed as it was still damp from the shower and a spot of toothpaste in the corner of his mouth. He took in the defeated look on her face as she didn’t move from where she’s flopped down on the bed before his eyes flickered to the balled-up sock that had bounced off the closet door.

“You know, I’d do that for you.” He offered, stooping to pick them up before wandering over to the bed.

“You don’t--- oh.” She stopped protesting as he gently massaged her swollen feet, relief flooding over her.

“Yeah, I thought so.” He chuckled, continuing to apply gentle pressure to the arch of her foot with his thumb, rubbing out the tension as best he could. When he looked across at her, her head had rolled back and her eyes flickered shut, a content hum coming from her lips. Eventually he slipped the black sock onto her foot, before picking up the other and repeating his steps.

He was the only one who she could stand to treat her like this, to care for her or treat her especially different because she was carrying a child. In fact, he was one of the only people she could ever feel wholly relaxed around and she loved him dearly for it. It felt cliché to say she fell more in love with him every day, but it was true, with every soft touch or quiet whisper, every kiss that he pressed to her lips or hair or neck she felt herself fall for him again characterised by a swoop in her stomach or a skip of her heart. Or just a warm tinglingly feeling from the top of head to the tip of her toes.

“Where did you learn to do this?” She said, her eyes still shut, but snapping open before he could answer. “No actually I don’t want to hear about you dating the founder of SHIELD right now.”

“It wasn’t her, if that helps at all.” She looked up at him, an eyebrow raised, as he slipped her sock on. He sighed slightly before offering her his hand to pull her back up. “You remember me telling you about Violet, who I was engaged to?”

“Ah the nurse slash PT.” Daisy said as she story came back to her. “Makes more sense, still don’t really want to think about you with her right now.” Daniel chuckled as he pulled her up to her feet, his hands slipping around her sides, brushing over her bump, before resting on her hips.

“No talking about my ex’s, I can do that.” He grinned something stupid at her, and she pressed closer to kiss it off his face. It was more difficult than it once had been, with the bump in the way, but he always managed to make her feel like their kisses were precious, not few and far between, but that he savoured each and every one. His hand in her hair, the other on her hip, pulling her closer. So much so that the reason they pulled apart was because they both felt a direct hit to the stomach and jumped backwards laughing.

“It seems your daughter is now awake.” Daisy said, rocking back on her heels as her hand pulled her shirt back down from where it had ridden up in the great sock debacle.

“Well, she’s a smart girl. Just like her mother.” He gently rubbed the spot where the baby’s foot had last made contact and was rewarded with a gentle push back against his fingertips. His wife watched as his eyes lit up at the interaction and she ran a hand through his hair as he dropped a kiss to her belly. She couldn’t wait to see him hold their baby, to see him being a father and to meet the little one. But right now, she longed to commit these moments to memory to hold onto the precious time they had.

3)

She’d expected him to find her a little quicker in all honesty. Word spread quickly on base of missions that hadn’t gone exactly to plan, which meant news of her blunder would have made its way to him quickly.

All in all, she was fine, a sprained wrist and some nasty bruising developing across her back and shoulders where she’d been slammed into the wall a few times, but she didn’t seem to have a anything broken, so she considered it a win. The SHIELD medic finished wrapping her wrist with a fancy new flexible splint that Jemma had designed for this kind of injury, before leaving with his paperwork, saying he’d be back soon to finish up.

As the door swung shut, she sat up properly crossing her legs and letting her head rest in the unwrapped hand. The mission had been a mess before she got hold of it, second hand from another agency, who had seriously gone above and beyond in making everything ten times worse. While on mission, she’d thought several times about how she could have done this alone, in and out with the pen drive without any fuss, if they’d just asked for her help before storming the building.

Mack had barely even briefed her on the situation before she was running into the base, quaking anything and everything necessary, taking others down in hand-to hand as she briefly thought about how she could do with some back-up. Then Mack clicked onto the comms in her ear to berate her for that very thing, letting her know he was sending in a team. An explosion on the other side of the base was a momentary distraction for her and that’s when it all went to hell. And then had come the fight with the big, looming guy and she half-rolled her eyes as he pinned her against the wall, the plaster falling off the wall as she collided with the surface. She’d quaked him and got away, charging down more corridors and beating those in her path until she reached her destination. All in all, the mission had been a success, but as she exited the half-rubbled facility, the adrenaline began to wear off and the aches and pain set in.

Mack, after reading her some of the riot act, sent her off to the Medical Wing his voice laced with that ‘big-brotherly’ concern as he saw her holding her wrist oddly.

She was pulled from her thoughts as a familiar set of footsteps echoed down the corridor, before the door swung open to reveal her husband. The sigh of relief in seeing her conscious didn’t escape Daisy, as she watched him scan her body for injuries.

“I’m fine.” She said, waving her splinted wrist. “Just a sprain, nothing broken. Medic said the bruising may take a week or so to go down.” He stayed quiet, approached the side of the bed and gently running his fingertips over the bruising on her shoulder, a sharp audible intake of breath coming from him as he glanced at the blue and purple marks across her back, mostly hidden by the tank top she was wearing. Her ‘Quake’ suit bunched around her waist where she had undone the top portion.

“You’re not fine Daisy. You’re hurt.” He said, an odd tone to his voice.

“It was part of the mission. I got caught off guard…”

“You were reckless. I talked to Mack before I came in here. You should have waited for back-up.” He snapped out, and Daisy levelled a look at him.

“It was time sensitive. They could have destroyed the information if I hadn’t gone in. We needed it. So, I went in to get it.” She explained, refusing to let her voice go up as she defended herself.

“And almost got yourself killed in the process.” He cried out, turning on his heel to pace.

“I did not! What are you talking about?” They bickered, they play fought or sometimes had minor disagreements. If anything, it was normally her that raised her voice, she’d not seen this side of him many times before.

“Why didn’t you wait for back up? Don’t tell me there wasn’t time.” He talked over her as she opened her mouth to speak. “Mack could have had a tac team scrambled in minutes. They could have gone in with you and had your back. Hell, I could have met you there if necessary. But no. You had to run off like the lone wolf and not wait for any help.” He was facing away from her when he stopped, pinching his brow. There were several moments of silence, where Daisy stared at his back in disbelief.

She was the one to finally break it. “What the hell Sousa?” Her voice shook more than she wanted it to.

“Do you know what it’s like to hear from one of my agents in training that you were on a mission that went wrong?” He whirled round, revealing his usually warm brown eyes had a glassy quality to them. “I was calling in to check on something. Lily was down for a nap, and he mentions the kerfuffle on the base. Then tells me that you had gone in alone, and that half the building had come down.” He released a half sob as his head dipped. “Do you know what was going through my head?”

She did. She understood entirely and she reflected on why she hadn’t thought of that before running into battle. It wasn’t unusual for her to run headfirst into danger, but she had so much to lose now. A husband. A daughter.

“I’m sorry.” She said quietly, as if she was testing out the words. Daniel picked his head up from where he’d been fixated on the floor. His eyes met hers, and they were equally glassy now. “I am, I didn’t think about it before I went in. I’m so sorry.” She reached out for him, and her heart settled a little as he took her hand, lowering himself so he was perched on the edge of the bed.

“I’m not asking you to stop fighting, I know it’s what you’re born to do... What you love to do. But I am asking, begging you, to think it through. To take back up when it’s necessary. To not entertain too many life-threatening risks. We need you to come home Daisy. I need you to come home to us, sweetheart.” He squeezed her non-splinted hand.

“I’ll do it, for you.” She said, pulling him closer to her, pressing a kiss to his lips before his head settled into the crook of her neck as his breathing evened out a little more. “I can do that for both of you. Where is Lily?”

“Mack took her off me when I stormed into HQ. She fell back to sleep in the car, should be up soon.” He murmured, before sitting up. “You want me to go get her?”

“I actually don’t think you need to.” Sousa looked at her puzzled, until he heard the heavy familiar footsteps coming down the hallway.

“You can feel her vibrations?” Her powers never failed to amaze him.

“Call it a mother’s intuition. Or the fact that I can reach out for both your heartbeats to help ground me if we are close enough.” He kissed her again, brief, and sweet before there was a knock on the door and Mack sticking his head into the room

“I have a certain Tiny Tremors who has just woken up out here, if you’re all good?” He said, glancing round the room to check for anything unsuitable in the room.

“We’re all good in here, give me my girl Mack.” Daisy made some kind of grabby hand motion as he entered the room with her sleepy daughter perched on his hip. At the sight of her mother, the 3-and-a-half-year-old perked right up and practically launched out of her uncle’s arm towards the bed. Out of instinct, Daniel intercepted her first before she could potentially injure her mother further, and he could feel Daisy rolling her eyes at him.

“Okay sweetheart, we’ve gotta take it easy on your Momma, okay? She got a little hurt, so we need to be gentle, can you do that for me?” The girl furiously nodded at her father, before wriggling from his grasp and falling into her mother’s open arms.

“Momma’s hurt?” She asked, her tiny hand gently playing with the end of Daisy’s hair as she leant into her. Sharing a look with her husband, she sighed a little.

“Yeah, Momma got a little hurt, but I’ll be all better soon. Promise.” Lily pondered for a moment, a face similar to her father’s thinking face, making Daisy chuckle softly under her breath.

“I make better?” She said, smiling up at her mother, melting the woman’s heart in the process the pure love she felt for this tiny human flooding through her body once again.

“Yeah baby, you make it all better.” The girl cuddled into her, Daisy wrapping her arms round her tiny frame a different kind of tear pricking her eyes, only to find Daniel in the same state.

For them, for her family, for her husband and daughter, she would do anything.

I’ll do it for you.

[accio-the-force]

count your lucky stars

Written for @quakeriderwritersguild's Ways to Say I Love You Valentine's Day Challenge <3

Summary: Luck smiled on Daniel Sousa when he met Daisy Johnson in the elevator on his first day at SHIELD Corp. He just didn't know how lucky until much later.

Or, five times Daisy wished Daniel good luck-- and one time Daniel wished her luck.

Ship: Dousy

Rating: T

Word Count: 3229

Read on AO3

[nerdyduckrants]

So I'm a bit late for the @quakeriderwritersguild Valentine challenge and I'm trying to finish it :)

Sorry! But here is a sneak peek - do yall think this is a good way to describe Fitz and his thoughts on Jemma? I plan on going through the years at different points but using the same set up. I'm thinking probably five or six times like this.

The first time Leo Fitz met Jemma Simmons he was a painfully shy sixteen year old. She was the most beautiful and smartest girl he had ever met and he could barely speak to her. He noticed every little detail about her, watching her in class instead of paying attention to the professor, something he never did.

She wore red trainers. Red was one of his favorite football team's colors. He decided that was a good sign.

She wasn't very tall but neither was he. Fitz thought that could be an advantage, if he could ever speak to her.

She was English. That wasn't the best thing, but Fitz figured he could live with it. They shared the same island after all.

She was extremely smart and didn't seem to notice the rest of the class was whispering about the both of them. He inwardly sighed, it wasn't always easy being a young genius. But Simmons would understand that, wouldn't she?

She had brown glossy hair. He propped his chin in his hand and watched her sashay up to the front of the classroom. He wondered what it'd be like to pull that hair from its ponytail and watch it fall, shimmering, to her shoulders

[quakeriderwritersguild]

Thank you @acerobbiereyes for making the badge for this year's challenge!

For anyone posting on AO3, we have the Quakerider Valentine Challenge collection you can add your works to! As you post your works, please remember to @quakeriderwritersguild and use the #qwg ily challenge tag so they can be reblogged. If you think your post might have been missed, please let either the blog or @soulofevil know

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