Shoulder To Cry >> Phil Coulson X Reader

                                    

                                          
Title: Shoulder To Cry
                          
Paring: Phil Coulson X Reader
                          
Warnings: just fluff angst. My specialty?
                          
Spoilers: only a few, for season one Agents of S. H. I. E. L. D. 
                          
Author's Note: I love Phil and he's my favourite Avenger (I love them all so much!). I feel there aren't enough Phil fics around, and in the ones he's in, he's gruff and OOC. 
                          
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He opened the door to her room to find her standing there, crying.  
                          
She didn't cry. That's what stood her apart from the rest; whilst they sobbed through their sappy romance flicks on long flights home on The Bus, _______ would be stoic. Silent. Like a (h/c) (h/l) haired weapons specialist that she was. In Phil's darkest moments, when May couldn't reach him, she did. When Ward continued and continued to  screw the team over, she found a way around his antics. 
                          
The lack of her tears weren't the only thing that made her special. Phil saw it with his own eyes, in broad daylight: compassion. No tears had been shed about all the orphans they had all saved, all the crisis averted, all the times the team had stopped global annihilation. 
                          
But she would smile - oh, she'd smile. 
                          
She'd smile like she had a secret, and the only way to get to it would be through her bright beaming grin. It was sunshine. Sin. Infectious to even Phil's professional interior. She'd nickname him many things, like Skye had, when he had first taken her in: Suits, Agent C (after Fitz insisted the team to watch Men in Black), Boss Man ... and unlike other things, Phil could admit it. He liked her. At least, when it came from her. Only her.
                          
_________. What a name. What a girl. You know, he thought, you haven't lived until you're undercover, spying in on a war zone - seeing her in action, concentrating with her tongue slightly out, brow furrowed. This was what she was made for. 
                          
Yes, ________ didn't cry. And yes, Phil had cried more times than he'd seen her do. But that doesn't stop him from knowing that deep down inside, under the layers of rules and regulations and truths: that he is in love with her. I love ________. And there's nothing on the goddamned planet that can stop that from being a truth. 
                          
"Sir?" she croaks. 
                          
She is crying, hot tears that drip down her face. Her eyes are red, like her cheeks, and Phil froze. He had never seen her cry ... maybe that's the reason. She never cried in company. When everyone ele cries, Phil approaches for a hug (except May, she prefers a pat on the shoulder). But now, Phil had no idea how to handle the situation. How does he handle the one he loves, when he doesn't know?
                          
"______ - sorry, I'll," he can't believe how awkward he was. When he had to say goodbye to his cellist again, ______ had been there for him. He'd had her when Lola needed fixing, when he burnt the team toast. How terrible of him. "I - are you okay?"
                          
Phil watches as she shakes her head, slowly. "No, sir, I'm not. I'm not okay. Permission - permission to vent?"
                          
He swallows his small smile, nodding. "Permission granted."  
                          
______ takes a deep breath. "I miss my Mum. It's her anniversary today, and I know I'm never emotional like this, but I'm away in my room to avoid judgement." She takes a deep breath. "Also, my brother's name is on the Hydra lists; I'm related to a traitor, sir! And, and," her breath hiccups in emotion, "Fitz ate my cookie."
                          
Phil Coulson can't stand to see you so upset. Closing the door to her quaters, he gathers her in his hands, and leads her to the bed she bunks with Skye. "Now, I'm sure we can find a solution to all these problems, ______," he proposes, positioning her over his lap. 
                          
She snorts. "How can you fix my Mum being dead?"
                          
"Permission to touch you?" he asks quietly. 
                          
The room is quiet. Then, slowly, he feels her nod against his knee. "Granted, sir."
                          
Phil reaches over your shoulder, and cautiously, slowly, he rubs it, massaging the tension out. "We can make a stop to her grave, if you like," he proposes, "And our salary can buy a lot of flowers, if you like. You can have a day or two off to be with her." he clears his throat. 
                          
In his lap, _____ stirs. "You'd allow it?" 
                          
He nods. "Why not? It's a mental health day, Fury would understand," without thinking,  Phil's fingers make it to your hair, and play with the strands, "Anything for my best agent."
                          
______ sits up almost instantly. Her face is puffy from crying, and her hair is a mess from Phil playing with it, and her face is in a mixture of awe, and confusion. "Best - best agent?" she repeats.
                          
He nods. "Better than your brother, and maybe even me. You're a natural out there, ______." He ignores your blush, and adds, "If your brother is Hydra, then do what you feel you have to, to him. I mean," he looks at his shoes, "I shot my old friend Garret, and it saved us all."
                          
_______ punched his arm lightly. "But he was juiced up on stuff, sir. He hardly wasn't your friend anymore." 
                          
Phil shrugged. "Still ... anyway, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it, right? You're going to be okay. I promise."
                          
He looks to his best agent, his closest friend and crush, and smiles. He's a grown man, who does grown things, and still, he can't bring it onto himself to confess these feelings. Is it because it's unprofessional? He's nervous? Both? Maybe a mix of those and the unknown response from her. 
                          
Phil goes to stand, and pats ______ on the shoulder. "I'll make sure next stop I'll grab plenty more cookies for you, too, okay?" He gives a weak smile. As he walks to the door, he adds, "And I'll tell Fitz not to go around eating other people's cookies."
                          
"Thanks, sir," he hears her say. 
                          
Phil opens the door, turning back to ______. "Anything for my best agent."
                          
She chuckles. "I love you too, Coulson."