Daisy Johnson one shots

Nightclub

The nightclub reverberated with an electric energy that filled every inch of the air. A symphony of pulsing lights painted the space in vibrant hues, dancing in synchrony with a mesmerizing blend of bass-heavy rhythms. It resonated in the bones of those who stood on the crowded dance floor.

You danced along, your body swaying to the pounding tempo as your feet started to tingle, the vibrations palpable in the stifling air. The atmosphere was a sensory overload, a place where time blurred, and your inhibitions dissolved as your friends brought you yet another shot.

Shooting down the clear liquid, you grimaced at the taste, attempting not to cough it back up as your friend patted you on the back. Looking up, you saw Yo-yo's already flushed face as she lazily scanned the room.

"Just go and find him already," You said, feeling your senses starting to dull as the vodka left a pleasant burn in your chest. "I promised you I'd be here as a wingwoman tonight!"

Yo-yo looked over at you, her face giddy with the anticipation of finally talking to her long-time crush, Mack. You laughed, grabbing the slightly crumpled water bottle from her grasp and uncapping it. Forcing the bottle against her lips, you watch her gulp down the water.

Hastily pulling the bottle away, you take a few sips before screwing the cap back on. "Don't gulp it all down Yo-yo, you'll get sick that way." You chastised, only half joking. You really didn't want to spend another night holding Yo-yo's hair as she spewed her guts into a nightclub toilet.

Gently shoving her away, you gave Yo-yo a light pep talk. It mostly consisted of complimenting her outfit, as she'd stressed about it all day. You had helped her pick the dress, a stunning knee length fabric that shimmered with each passing ray of multi-colored light. Yo-yo spun in a small circle as you showered her with compliments, before finally turning away and laughing, her eyes scanning the room for Mack.

"But wait!" Yo-yo exclaimed, swaying slightly as she gripped your upper arm tightly. She struggled to focus on your face, finally making eye contact. "You haven't had enough alcohol to get your mind properly off of her yet."

You sighed, letting out a breath into the already warm air. The atmosphere dimmed slightly, the stale air swirling around you as you remembered the true reason you'd let Yo-yo drag you along. In all honesty, you'd never been much of a party girl. You always preferred a night in, sipping tea as you watched a sitcom with your girlfriend.

And there it was, the one thing you'd been trying not to think about.

Shooting Yo-yo a look, you shook your head. "I don't think alcohol is going to help much." She gave you an apologetic look, and you gave her a slightly firmer push towards the dance floor. She turned slowly, and upon seeing him, quickly left your side in pursuit.

Turning back towards the bar, you squinted against the flashing lights, already feeling a headache coming on as the vibrant mix of reds and blues swirled against the walls. Pushing through a tangle of sweaty, dancing bodies, you snagged a seat towards the end of the bar. You ordered a shirley temple (you really did miss Daisy), and sat back against the wall. Choosing to give your eyes a rest from the mass of bodies dancing in an uncoordinated pattern, you let your eyes unfocus as you stared into the dark red of your drink.

Daisy had unfortunately been called away, her position as head of her company demanding more hours as the summer season hit. She'd left immediately after a late night phone call, grabbing her pre-packed bag and sweeping out of your shared home. She'd promised that it wouldn't be too long of a trip, and that she'd call you every day. That was three weeks ago.

She did call you every day, but spoken words weren't enough for you. You wanted to be held by her, falling asleep in her arms as she laughed along quietly to the sitcoms playing in the background. You wanted to kiss her again, like it was the last time you'd ever embrace her lips with yours, frenzied and passionate. The sound of her voice through a phone, knowing she was miles away, couldn't compare to the way she would hold you close with your breaths intermingling as you pulled each other impossibly closer.