𝕮𝖔𝖇𝖎𝖊 𝕾𝖒𝖚𝖑𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝕴𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘

Wallpaper | M.H.

[Fluff]

You didn't mean for her to find out.

Honestly, you had changed your wallpaper as a joke—something funny to amuse yourself while she was away on assignment. A distorted selfie of Maria with her face squished against a jet window, lips flattened and cheeks puffed like a confused goldfish. You had snapped it months ago and kept it buried in your favorites folder, bringing it out now and then to snicker at in secret. You'd never expected anyone, let alone your wife, to catch sight of it.

But Maria was nosy. And curious. And, above all, relentless.

It happened on a lazy Sunday morning. You were sitting on the couch in your shared apartment, legs stretched out, her fuzzy-socked feet resting on your thighs. The soft hum of wind drifted in through the open windows. She was sipping coffee, scrolling through her tablet, and you were doing absolutely nothing productive—just flicking through your phone notifications.

You should've known better than to set it down face-up.

"I need to borrow your phone," she said casually, not even looking at you. "Mine's dead."

You nodded, already reaching for it. "Sure, it's unlocked."

Maria set her mug on the table, then grabbed your phone. She swiped it up to the home screen and froze.

The silence was immediate.

Then came the sound—her breath hitching, not in shock, but confusion. Bewilderment. A beat passed, then another.

"...What the hell is this?"

You looked over just in time to see her staring at your phone with an expression that hovered somewhere between horror and disbelief. You felt your stomach drop.

"Oh no."

Maria turned the screen toward you, and there she was—your wife, the powerful, composed Maria Hill, caught in the least flattering photo imaginable. Her forehead looked enormous, nose squashed wide against the glass, one eye bigger than the other. A masterpiece of unintentional absurdity.

You burst out laughing before you could help yourself.

Maria, however, did not.

"Is this really your wallpaper?" she asked slowly, eyes narrowing. "You've been walking around with this on your phone? In public?"

"It makes me happy!" you protested through laughter, trying and failing to reclaim the device. "It's so funny, babe—come on, look at your face! You look like a possessed pancake!"

Maria scowled at you, but the corners of her lips twitched. "I am a respected SHIELD commander. This is the image you carry of me?"

"You're my commander and my pancake," you teased, grabbing her ankles and giving them a playful squeeze. "Multifaceted."

She gave you a long, withering look. "You're sleeping on the couch tonight."

"You love me."

"Barely."

You lunged to grab the phone, but she yanked it away and curled into herself on the couch, shielding it like a precious artifact.

"Wait, wait," she said, her tone suddenly suspicious. "If this is your wallpaper, what else are you hiding in here?"

Your stomach tightened. "Nothing."

Maria didn't believe that for a second.

She began scrolling with evil glee.

"Maria, don't—"

"Oh my God," she gasped. "You have an album? An entire folder titled 'Maria, but weird'?"

You slapped your forehead and groaned. "I told you that was private!"

She was already giggling, scrolling through warped selfies, screenshots of her mid-sneeze, and one video where she tried to give orders with a mouthful of popcorn. "This is amazing. You've been keeping a secret shrine of my lowest moments!"

"Don't judge me," you muttered. "I love every version of you—even the derpy ones."

She paused.

Her laughter faded just a little, and when you looked up, she was staring at one particular photo. You couldn't see which. Her expression had shifted from amusement to something softer. Something unreadable.

"You really... collect these?" she asked, not quite teasing anymore.

"Yeah," you admitted. "I mean, the badass you? Everyone gets to see that. But this side of you? The silly faces, the weird poses, the real you when you're just being you? That's mine. And I love it."

Her eyes stayed on the screen for a moment longer. Then she set the phone down on the table, slowly, gently, and crawled into your lap.

You blinked. "So I'm not sleeping on the couch?"

"Shut up," she murmured, wrapping her arms around your neck.

Maria kissed you, slow and sweet. Her hair smelled like citrus and leather, and her lips were warm from the coffee. You melted into her like always, your arms slipping instinctively around her waist.

"You're ridiculous," she whispered against your cheek.

"You married me."

She pulled back just far enough to raise an eyebrow. "And now I know you're secretly collecting cursed images of me. I don't know whether to be flattered or disturbed."

You grinned. "I'll make you a scrapbook for our anniversary."

"Do that and I will kill you."

You felt her fingers idly trace your collarbone as she settled against you again, her cheek resting on your shoulder. The quiet returned, interrupted only by the occasional rustle of her hoodie against your shirt and the soft ticking of the clock.

"...Can I be honest with you?" she said after a minute.

You tilted your head. "Always."

"I'm glad you see that side of me," she said softly. "I spend so much time pretending to be perfect. In meetings. Missions. With the Avengers. Sometimes I forget that I'm allowed to be weird. Or dorky. Or human."

You tightened your arms around her. "You never have to pretend with me."

Maria was quiet for a long moment. Then she let out a breath that seemed to carry more weight than you expected. "Thank you."

You kissed the top of her head. "Anytime."

She pulled back a little and smirked. "Still changing the wallpaper, though."

"Why?" you whined. "It brings me joy!"

"It brings shame to the Hill reputation."

You pouted. "Fine. I'll change it."

Maria nodded in smug satisfaction, then picked up your phone again. "I'll pick a new one for you."

You froze. "Wait—you get to pick?"

She tapped and swiped for a few seconds before turning the screen toward you with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. It was a photo of you, taken from below, mid-snore, with your mouth open and one eye half-closed.

"Perfect," she declared. "Balance has been restored."

You gasped in horror. "That's revenge!"

"That's justice."

You groaned. "Fine. But we're both stuck with cursed wallpapers now."

Maria leaned in, lips brushing your ear. "Couples who embarrass each other together, stay together."

You couldn't argue with that.

<3