100 Marvel One Shots✔️

There's No Place Like Home >> Phil Coulson X Reader

Title: There's No Place Like Home

Paring: Phil Coulson X Reader

Warnings: dystopian!AU, mentions of gangs and thugs and stuff, tropes that your English teachers probably told you never to write but your girl @susiephalange wrote anyways because I don't owe English teachers a thing 💥😎💥 

Spoilers: This story is spoiler free!

Dedicated to: 3AngelofDarkness3 who wanted more Phil Coulson. Happy to oblige, my friend!

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Phil had been out all night, and there was no sign that he was coming home any time soon. You hated being the helpless girlfriend, but sometimes, that's what it came to. The pair of you lived in the centre of town, in a little fixer-upper apartment on his wages as a security guard. Perhaps he'd meant to call ahead, but the phone had died? Maybe the employer needed more time for him on the job. That was probably it.

You often stayed awake, sitting up, waiting for him to come in the door. At first, Phil had dissuaded it; you worked a few hours in the store below the apartment, and he didn't think it would be very professional for you to just wait up. But after a number of incidents which involved a medkit and Phil hissing against the medicine to stitch him up, he nodded, and soon took to waiting until the end of the night, to see your face.

But this night, he looked haunted.

"What's wrong?" you wondered, rushing to him. There was no signs of him being hurt, despite the sad look in his eyes, no tells that he'd been jumped or attacked on the way home. He didn't look to you, only the floor, his feet. "Phillip Coulson, you're frightening me, what's wrong?"

He's already in the door and grabbing things, and chucking them into bags by the time he answers, rushing around in a flurry you hadn't seen him so animated to do so in ages. "I need to leave this place, with you. After working the Howlett job three weeks ago, there's been a little bit of discourse." He grunts. Almost everything in his path is being put into the suitcase bag; your books, your shoes, your - , "There's a gang, the main one, you know of them."

You nod, "The one Lehnsherr runs," you help Phil pack, reaching for his tie, laying on the couch. His hand stops you from gathering it, and it hits you. "They've threatened you, to hurt me, haven't they?" you whisper.

Phil nods. "It's no idle threat," he murmurs, taking the tie from your fingers. "I'm taking you away, to stay with some people who can protect you. It's going to be easier than sitting in here for all the nights you do, and coming home to see you..." He trails off, unable to meet your eyes.

"But what about you? Won't they come for you if I'm not here?" you're worried, and you're sure you're not helping the fact that Phil, a stoic man who you've been in love with for the longest time, since before the apocalypse, is about to cry. When is the last time you can say you remember him this emotional? You can't tell. "Phil, please. I can't go off and hide when I know you're still out in those streets where they are." your vice wavers.

He shakes his head. "You'll have to trust me on this, _________."

You nod, looking anywhere else but at Phil. "There's no place like home."

It's been a long night, what seems like the longest he's ever gone through. What the hell had happened? It had just been a standard extraction, and his team, and ______ had gone in, smooth. No red flags. But then Daisy and Melinda had radioed in, and rushed out with _______. He couldn't believe it.