#philindafic

Rshps: Daisy & Coulson, background Philinda, also some background team and background Quakerider. (And a Special Guest!) Rated G. Set in the distant/indistinct future. Fluff with a little cheese. Enjoy!

Read on AO3 (~1000wd)

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“Knock knock!” Daisy called, more of a formality than anything as she pressed the door open with her shoulder and entered the room. Coulson was over by the mirror, intently focused on arranging and rearranging his tie, and muttering under his breath. Daisy could feel the tension radiating off him from the doorway. She smiled: it was unusual to see him so flustered, and though most of it was probably due to frustration and nerves she was still determined to chalk it up to love.

“Daisy!” Coulson cheered when she entered, glad to have an excuse to momentarily abandon the uncooperative strip of material. He waved her over instead. “Could you get this please? My hands – well my hand – is shaking, and my prosthetic doesn’t seem to be much good for this.”

Daisy clicked her tongue disapprovingly, shaking her head for the theatrics. “That Fitz. It’s just not good enough. Never know when you might need to tie a Windsor to military precision in the middle of a battlefield, do you?”

“Exactly,” Coulson agreed, playing along. “You get it.”

Daisy bit her lip, grinning as she pulled the tie into shape. His problem now addressed, Coulson relaxed and the smile soon returned to his face too; dreamier and more hopeful than Daisy could ever remember seeing him. She stepped out of the way so that he could give a final check over his appearance: a fine grey suit, with red features in the tie and pocket-square to match May’s dress. He tugged it so the lines sat more flatteringly, tried undoing the button and then doing it again, fixed his cuffs – his anxiousness was so adorably boyish, like he was waiting for his prom date, that Daisy almost laughed, but she bit it back.

She bit it back, and watched in fond adoration as Coulson’s expression once again became wrapped up in thought. Thought of today, thought of May. How often had Coulson dreamed of it, Daisy wondered. She’d never seen him and May as the type for getting married, but maybe that’s just because they were older and more understated in their affection than she was used to. How many chances like this had Coulson given up in his life? May, Daisy knew, had had Andrew and lost him, not once but twice over. Coulson, too, had had a sweetheart – not a fiancée, she didn’t think, but a possibility. A cello player, that’s all Daisy remembered, and he’d had to leave her too. Shield had taken so much from each of them – taken their chance at this sort of life – and yet still they pursued it. They circled back to each other. Or, rather, they’d never left each other. Maybe that’s why Daisy had never seen today on the cards, because it seemed so much like icing on the cake.

(That said, of course, Daisy was never one to turn her nose up at cake.)

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I want to escape (and believe that I got the strength)

[AO3]

Summary: While Coulson has been living for a while in a space station, Melinda May wakes up in a completely different place, with rather odd company. She doesn't know who took the rest of her team, or where or why, but it doesn't matter, because she is going to find out.  

Sneak Peak: 

But right now she can’t afford to think about him, where he is, what they might be doing to him, how she is unable to protect him. Much less about all the things that had been left unsaid for long years, about that bottle of Haig that they have been aging for as long as their friendship exists and that got stolen straight from their hands.

I’m not feeling so hot tonight. So, this happened.

“Seriously,” Daisy whispers, “someone has to do something.”

She glances from Jemma to Fitz, who immediately throws both hands up in a gesture of submission.

“Don’t look at me,” he says quickly. “I tried to ask her if she was ...”

Fitz trails off as something behind Daisy and Jemma catches his eye. They turn to see what’s caught his attention: it’s Coulson virtually herding a reticent May through the corridor in the relative direction of their rooms. 

“Sir?” Jemma asks as they approach.

“Make sure she isn’t bothered for the next twelve hours, please.”

May’s face transforms like she’s about to protest, and a rare thing happens: Coulson places a hand on her bicep without more than a quick glance at her, and May swallows her reply. 

“Is anything the matter?” Fitz asks.

Coulson smiles. “Probably just a twenty-four hour bug.”

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.

52. things you said with my lips on your neck

They’re in his office--a spare few minutes between meetings suddenly an opportunity for his lips to become reacquainted with her skin. Melinda’s hands are wrapped around his neck, her long fingers stroking the column of his neck and playing with the short hairs on the back of his neck, nails scratching and teasing the skin. 

Phil, meanwhile, is busy pressing his mouth to her neck. Gentle, fluttering kisses up and down the length of her neck, tongue sweeping out and teasing the sensitive skin, flicking out in time with her erratic pulse. 

“Phil, please, l-leave a mark this time.”

Melinda’s broken gasp into the silent office has Phil pausing his ministrations, keeping her pinned between his body and his desk. They’ve been discreet until this point: no sloppy exits from bedrooms after late-night rendezvous and certainly no stray marks on their bodies. No hickeys, no scrapes, no bite marks, nothing. 

Phil’s nose nuzzles under her jaw. “You want me to mark you now, Mel? Why?”

She tilts her head down and nuzzles against him, keeping their heads close. In a way, it’s easier to make this request if he can’t look at her, can’t see the darkening flush of a blush on her cheeks. 

“I want them to know that...that I’m yours, Phil. I don’t want to hide this anymore.”

Phil is still beneath her hands and she’s afraid she’s overstepped, said too much too soon. They haven’t said I love you yet and she’s here asking him to mark her as his like some sort of--

And then Phil is shuddering and moving again, mouth hot and insistent on her neck, nipping and sucking and biting at the soft tendons in her neck. She throws her head back to give him more access and she groans, muttering out a throaty, “Fuck, Phil.” 

His hands are gripping her hips hard and the little growls and groans he lets out low in his throat are vibrating through her, heightening the sensations of his teeth and tongue on her skin. 

“The one with holiday dinners and PTA meetings, recitals.”

She jogs down the aisle, trying to find him. She eyes the numbers on the armchairs carefully. 16….14….12…10…8. He had texted that he got great seats, but she couldn’t believe that they were this good. There he was, seated in aisle 2 seat 10. There’s an empty seat right next to him with his brown jacket draped across it. She shimmies her way into the aisle, apologizing profusely as she goes. She’s lucky that she has such a tiny figure or dodging all of these knees and feet would not be such an easy task.

Phil has already moved the jacket to rest on top of his knees once she reaches the empty seat. She plops down into it, accidentally bumping into his shoulder. Thankfully, she only hit into him and not anyone else. She doesn’t need to hear anymore grumbling about her unpunctuality from strangers.

As she adjusts herself in order to feel settled and comfortable, she leans over towards her husband. “Did I miss it?” she whispers into his ear.

She quickly turns to face the stage, double checking the performers. There are two girls who appear to be around 15 years old prancing around.

“No, you got here just in time,” Phil stage whispers back. And by stage whisper, she means yells. She makes a mental reminder to schedule him an appointment to get his hearing checked.

He glances down at the fluorescent purple pamphlet in his hand and adds, “she’s up next.”

She grins. Great, just in time. She was so afraid that she was going to be late. It would’ve broken her heart to miss this.

“Work was insane,” she whispers to Phil.

He leans over, his lips making contact with her ear and he says, “I’m glad you made it, my badass sexy ninja.”

His hot breath seems to spread throughout her whole body, sending shivers all the way to her toes. She missed him….so much.

She shakes her head slightly at the nickname, but can’t help it when her lips involuntarily curl into a grin.

“Shhhhhh!” an annoyed shush comes from somewhere behind them.

She watches as Phil’s head snaps towards the stage as if scolded by a teacher. She can’t help but laugh a little bit.

The music that had been playing fades away and the curtain is pulled across the stage.

Their girl was up next.

That’s when she feels his hand move from the armrest to her thigh and grab onto her left hand. He entwines their fingers and squeezes lightly, comfortingly.

She squeezes back.

Some type of classical ballet music begins playing overhead as the curtain is whisked open again. That was a quick transition.

That’s when she spots her, up on stage. Their 10 year old Daisy, posing gracefully on her tip toes waiting to begin. As the music speeds up, Daisy starts by moving her arms as if they were gliding on air. From there she spins, jumps, and twirls for ten minutes all by herself in her tutu.

Melinda can feel the telltale signs of tears forming in her eyes. It was a rare occurrence for the director of HYDRA to begin crying, but she can’t help it. Their daughter was beautiful and talented. She and Phil were beaming with joy. They were proud parents right now.

Once the curtain is pulled back again, much too quickly this time, in her opinion Phil leans over. “Ya know, she looked just like you did in those videos,” he teases.

Her eyes meet his and she sees that his are just as wet with unshed tears as hers are. She can feel her face growing warm at his words. Damn. She rarely became flustered, but whenever anyone brought up her ice skating days it somehow got to her. Thankfully, Phil, Daisy, and her parents were the only ones that knew about the skating.

“That’s the only time I get to see you blush,” he comments, smirking.

Oh, he is just so proud of himself right now. She tries glaring at him, but fails. She’s just too happy right now.

As they linger outside of the dressing room, waiting for Daisy, Phil grabs her hand and turns towards her. “I love you,” he says, eyes locking onto hers.

It takes her by surprise, the seriousness with which he says it. She knows that he loves her, but every time he says it her chest tightens in response.  “And I love you.” She leans up and presses her lips to his.

Neither one of them pull away. She tilts her head to the side as he opens his mouth, sucking on her bottom lip. They should not be doing this here, but she wasn’t going to stop him. Just as she’s about to bite playfully at his lips in response, a weight suddenly smashes against them.

They break apart only to find little arms wrapping around both of their legs.

“Did you see me?!?” Daisy asks, bursting with energy.

“Of course we did,” Phil tells her.

Daisy grins in response, a mirror image of Phil. Then, Daisy tilts her head up at her and asks, “How did I do, mommy?”

Melinda lets go of Phil’s waist and bends down in order to face Daisy. “You were amazing, honey. Really.” She cups Daisy’s cheek and smooths out a wayward piece of hair.

“Thanks!” Daisy smiles brightly then begins bouncing up and down. “Okay, let’s go! I’m hungry now.”

“Ohhhhhh. So mommy’s opinion is the only one that matters,” Phil comments.

Daisy rolls her eyes in the most pre-teen way possible. “Well, duhhhh. She was a dancer.”

Phil bends down and rests both of his knees on the ground in order to face Daisy. “But she only did ice skating. How do you know I didn’t do ballet when I was a little boy?” he asks, surprisingly able to keep a straight face.

Melinda snorts in response, her mind creating a hilarious image of Phil spinning around in a tutu at 50 years old.

Daisy giggles at his ridiculous question.

Phil wraps his arms around Daisy and squeezes her playfully. “How do you know?” he asks again.

The childish laughter that comes from Daisy is music to her ears, making her laugh too.

Phil relaxes his arms and Daisy flings her own around his neck. “Did you like it, daddy?”

“Of course I did. You were amaaaazing. Born to be a star,” he says dramatically.

“This is why she doesn’t ask you,” Melinda mumbles, while continuing to smile at the two of them.

Daisy pulls away from Phil. A moment passes and then she asks, “Can we get pizza?”

“Yes,” Melinda answers.

“Yay!!!” Daisy grabs Phil’s hand in her left and Melinda’s hand in her right then pulls them towards the exit.

They lift and swing their daughter out the door, resulting in a fit of laughter.

A joyful daughter and a loving husband. Perfect

Melinda never thought that she deserved this. 

It’s the happiest she’s ever been.

For the Cameras

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Phil Coulson/Melinda May Characters: Phil Coulson, Melinda May Summary: