Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. fic: Sometime Around Midnight
Story Title: Sometime Around Midnight
Fandom(s): Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 738
Summary: They’re two of the most dangerous people in the world, but for now, all Daisy feels is safe.
She likes walking at night. There’s far too much light pollution in L.A. to see much of the stars, but the endless blanket of nothingness above is comforting all the same. The temperature cools enough to make long sleeves pleasant instead of just a statement. It’s freeing, too, to walk around without any fear or feeling like she needs to thread her fingers around her car keys with her head on a swivel. The buzzing beneath her skin from the million and one creatures and objects around her waiting to be manipulated renders any potential danger a nonissue.
“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing on her own so late?”
Daisy smiles to herself. Even without a voice to accompany it, the unique vibration of Robbie Reyes shines through the white noise of all the rest.
“I don’t think pickup lines are supposed to sound threatening,” she says, slowing her pace just a fraction so he can catch up.
“I was being - it wasn’t a pickup line.”
“A threat, then? You should know better than that by now.”
Daisy takes her hands out of her pockets and points them downward, causing the pavement to shiver just enough to be unsettling. Still a far cry from their first meeting, when she cracked the ground beneath his feet and sent him to his knees. He’s been on his knees since, too, but it’s never taken a quake to do it.
“You wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something? Retract those claws, girl.”
Daisy has a retort to that prepared as she turns down an alleyway - What would you know about my bed? perhaps - but opts for the truth instead, just this once. “Sorry. Long day.”
Robbie grabs her hand to tug her to a stop. His handsome features are marred by a frown, every trace of playfulness gone. “Daisy.”
She leans forward to smush her face into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of old leather and motor oil. Robbie stiffens in surprise before slowly wrapping his arms around her.
She supposes she can’t blame him for being tentative; until now, things had never been like this, so serious and fraught. They work better as strangers. As enemies. Or pretending as such, anyway. This isn’t the first time he’s weakened her armor, each kernel of information he drops about himself heightening her intrigue, but this is the first time she’s let him penetrate it.
The fact that he can’t die helps. That much she’ll admit. She’s a walking cancer to everyone else, a hazard to anyone who gets too close, but not him. Hell, she’d tried to kill him in the beginning, and it didn’t take.
He’ll always be here, in one form or another.
She calms, a little, as she shuts out the rest of the world to listen to the beat of his heart and tune into the specific timbre of his vibrational frequency. Frequencies plural, really. His, steady and low, and the Rider’s, frenetic and high. The latter’s barely noticeable at the moment, however. The demon inside him doesn’t usually bother to rouse itself anymore when she’s nearby.
“Cariño,” Robbie murmurs, the endearment soft as silk on his tongue, “you’re scaring me.”
She lets out a weak snort. “Ghost Rider’s got jokes. Come on, I’m not scaring -”
“I mean it. Are you in some kind of trouble?”
She doesn’t want to tell him - she can’t tell him, not yet - but she doesn’t want to lie either. Quietly, she asks, “Just hold me?”
“Yeah,” he says, so immediately and without question that it makes her start to cry.
Once she starts she can’t seem to stop, for a certainty getting snot and makeup and tears on his beloved jacket, but he doesn’t mention it. He merely does as asked, holds her so tightly it almost hurts - almost burns, like he’s trying to keep her in one piece long enough to cauterize her wounds.
He could kill her like this, she muses, if he wanted to. Sizzle her flesh and char her bones with the touch of a finger. In turn, she could quake his organs apart, maim him so thoroughly it’d take the Rider a week to stitch him back together.
They’re two of the most dangerous people in the world, the pair of them, and maybe one day that’ll be a problem.
But for now, all Daisy feels is safe.
Fandom(s): Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 738
Summary: They’re two of the most dangerous people in the world, but for now, all Daisy feels is safe.
She likes walking at night. There’s far too much light pollution in L.A. to see much of the stars, but the endless blanket of nothingness above is comforting all the same. The temperature cools enough to make long sleeves pleasant instead of just a statement. It’s freeing, too, to walk around without any fear or feeling like she needs to thread her fingers around her car keys with her head on a swivel. The buzzing beneath her skin from the million and one creatures and objects around her waiting to be manipulated renders any potential danger a nonissue.
“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing on her own so late?”
Daisy smiles to herself. Even without a voice to accompany it, the unique vibration of Robbie Reyes shines through the white noise of all the rest.
“I don’t think pickup lines are supposed to sound threatening,” she says, slowing her pace just a fraction so he can catch up.
“I was being - it wasn’t a pickup line.”
“A threat, then? You should know better than that by now.”
Daisy takes her hands out of her pockets and points them downward, causing the pavement to shiver just enough to be unsettling. Still a far cry from their first meeting, when she cracked the ground beneath his feet and sent him to his knees. He’s been on his knees since, too, but it’s never taken a quake to do it.
“You wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something? Retract those claws, girl.”
Daisy has a retort to that prepared as she turns down an alleyway - What would you know about my bed? perhaps - but opts for the truth instead, just this once. “Sorry. Long day.”
Robbie grabs her hand to tug her to a stop. His handsome features are marred by a frown, every trace of playfulness gone. “Daisy.”
She leans forward to smush her face into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of old leather and motor oil. Robbie stiffens in surprise before slowly wrapping his arms around her.
She supposes she can’t blame him for being tentative; until now, things had never been like this, so serious and fraught. They work better as strangers. As enemies. Or pretending as such, anyway. This isn’t the first time he’s weakened her armor, each kernel of information he drops about himself heightening her intrigue, but this is the first time she’s let him penetrate it.
The fact that he can’t die helps. That much she’ll admit. She’s a walking cancer to everyone else, a hazard to anyone who gets too close, but not him. Hell, she’d tried to kill him in the beginning, and it didn’t take.
He’ll always be here, in one form or another.
She calms, a little, as she shuts out the rest of the world to listen to the beat of his heart and tune into the specific timbre of his vibrational frequency. Frequencies plural, really. His, steady and low, and the Rider’s, frenetic and high. The latter’s barely noticeable at the moment, however. The demon inside him doesn’t usually bother to rouse itself anymore when she’s nearby.
“Cariño,” Robbie murmurs, the endearment soft as silk on his tongue, “you’re scaring me.”
She lets out a weak snort. “Ghost Rider’s got jokes. Come on, I’m not scaring -”
“I mean it. Are you in some kind of trouble?”
She doesn’t want to tell him - she can’t tell him, not yet - but she doesn’t want to lie either. Quietly, she asks, “Just hold me?”
“Yeah,” he says, so immediately and without question that it makes her start to cry.
Once she starts she can’t seem to stop, for a certainty getting snot and makeup and tears on his beloved jacket, but he doesn’t mention it. He merely does as asked, holds her so tightly it almost hurts - almost burns, like he’s trying to keep her in one piece long enough to cauterize her wounds.
He could kill her like this, she muses, if he wanted to. Sizzle her flesh and char her bones with the touch of a finger. In turn, she could quake his organs apart, maim him so thoroughly it’d take the Rider a week to stitch him back together.
They’re two of the most dangerous people in the world, the pair of them, and maybe one day that’ll be a problem.
But for now, all Daisy feels is safe.