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Next Post: “Sobered Affection | Natasha Romanoff x Reader”

Hai

happy pride!!!! love yourself and kiss girls!!!!

it’s what kathryn hahn would want.

lenitriedtowritestuff

Very tragic that I am not kissing a girl rn

bgwlsmahf25

Could you write a Maria Hill fic, please?? I like your writing style so much!!. I'd like agent!reader (mainly non-verbal) to come home to their shared apartment after a long ass difficult mission, still covered in muck, and simply plops their head onto the lap of the older woman while she types away.

All I Need

Pairing: agent!reader x Maria Hill

Warnings: mentions of blood and injuries; mentions of guns

Genre: fluff

a/n: thanks for this request! I find Maria challenging to write, but I enjoyed this one!

Your forehead felt tight. Natasha had applied tape in the field, but it was starting to peel by the time you got to the Compound. There was an ache in your bones that was hard to ignore, and you were so tired that you almost decided to sleep at the Compound.

Almost. The thing that stopped you, that made you find your keys and drive to your apartment in the city, was Maria.

Nobody knew that you were dating Maria. The pair of you kept your private life private. People didn’t like tangling with Maria because she invariably came out on top. You’d watched this happen enough times to know that your relationship was private and safe.

It was the thought of your slightly strict, professional, no-nonsense girlfriend that kept you driving along the interstate. Except she was a different person around you. Guarded, but softer.

Your mind flashed through the events of the past few days. It had been a difficult mission, and not one that you wanted to revisit, although Steve was insisting on a debrief. You were dreading it. The enemy had been on you from the minute you arrived, and you and your team found yourselves under heavy gunfire. For hours, you hadn’t been able to move, becoming cramped and stiff.

It only changed when Steve - Captain America - and extra forces had arrived. They’d made quick work of the base, and soon you were able to move closer and rescue several hostages, as well as retrieving valuable intel which you had personally dropped into Nick Fury’s hands.

“Well done, soldier,” was all he’d said.

***

The lights were on. Maria was home. Pulling into the underground garage, you got out your car, feeling like you could hardly move. There was a sharp smell of engine oil hanging in the air; you wrinkled your nose, grabbed your kit bag and headed for the elevator.

Resting your head against the cool metal of the elevator, you ignored an aching pain in your ribs and stared at yourself in the mirror on the opposite wall. Blood. Mud. And beneath it all, the faded black grey of your tactical suit. You looked like Natasha Romanoff if she’d just emerged from a building explosion. Minus the vibrant red hair, of course.

The doors opened and you slowly made your way down the hallway, stopping outside your apartment. Fumbling in an outer pocket of your kit bag, you opened the door.

***

The apartment was quiet, but it was a familiar quiet and not the kind of quiet that sets your nerves on edge and makes you tense as you walk around every corner.

Maria’s own kit bag, along with a bulky black briefcase, were lying just beyond the hallway table, propped up against the wall. She was off on assignment to southern Europe in a few days. For now, though, she was yours.

The faint smell of tomato pasta wafted through from the kitchen, and your stomach growled. You were more interested in finding Maria than eating, though, and poked your head into the utility room that had been converted into an office. The desk was clear, meaning she was in the living room.

Leaning against the doorframe, you took in the sight of your girlfriend, head bent over her laptop, typing intently and occasionally muttering under her breath. A notebook lay beside her, filled with Maria’s neat scrawl.

Finally, she glanced up at you, her usually emotionless face dissolving into a softer, more tender expression. She took in the sight of you, listened the loud thud of your kit bag hitting the floor, and analysed the way you were slightly swaying.

“Come here,” was all she said.

With a grateful sigh, you walked forwards, sank into the sofa, which gave a protesting creak beneath you, and collapsed into Maria’s lap, your head resting on her thighs. She ran a thumb gently over your cheek, planted a kiss to the muddy skin, and then carried on typing, the click-click of her keyboard lulling you into sleep.

#reblogged fics

kuroneko-donuts

Me before watching Andor: Surely people are exaggerating about Star Wars names being like "Glup Shitto" or "Alda Beeblo"

Me after watching Andor, with a completely straight face: Yeah so I really liked that one arc with "Keef Girgo" and his colleagues Melshi, Jemboc, Xaul, Ulaf and Ham

reimanticism

is it really you, my love?

got another epic au comm for ya'll

i-will-write

Post a fic and check the stats every two minutes: peer recognition? peer approval? peer recognition? peer approval? peer recognition? peer approval? peer recognition? peer approval? peer recognition? peer approval? peer recognition? peer approval? peer recognition? peer approval? peer recognition? peer approval? peer recognition? peer approval? peer recognition? peer approval?

yasministration

until the nineties - robin buckley

set in s3, hopper!reader summary: there's one lucky thing about you and robin being a lesbian couple in the eighties - you don't have to keep your door open three inches. wc: 2.3k+ cw: sensitive themes (talk of homophobia & same sex couples in the 80's) but it's all in a positive way! suggestive themes - heated moment. a/n: this fic means so much to me so treat her kindly

With your father’s presence comes the slam of a door. You’ve been conditioned to associate him with the sound, so when the front door slams open, Robin immediately puts a few inches of space between your faces. Her lips no longer brush yours as she flirts with you quietly, her hand slipping from your waist so she can rest her second arm on the mattress. You glimpse up to the mirror at the other end of your bed and nod to yourself approvingly. In the reflection, you don’t see a pair of lovers, but good friends.

Another door bangs against a wall, and you scoff in amusement as you hear your dad begin yelling before cutting himself off. Robin squeezes your hand which grips the corner of the magazine’s page, but she quickly lets go, moving it away a safe distance. Her soft touch averts your attention back to the magazine — something that had lost your focus many minutes ago, when Robin had decided to press the first kiss to your jaw.

“So I take it you prefer the plaid over the floral?” You mumble, a single manicured nail tracing over the advertised bikinis. “Yeah, I like the funky patterns.” Both your eyes flit up towards the end of Robin’s sentence as the door eases open. Jim Hopper’s gaze is sceptical, but his shoulders slump in relief at the sight of you and Robin, innocently laying on your stomachs on your bed, flicking through a magazine.

“It’s like a time machine in here.” Your dad starts, hand still on the doorknob as he looks back and forth between your room and El’s, where she and Max are in the same position, except on the floor. And also, very much just friends. “Both of you girls with your friends, no boys around.” He leaves the second part silent, but it’s clear that he thinks about how for the first time in years, he doesn’t have to worry about either of his girls and their boyfriends. He nods approvingly before slowly closing the door, and for a moment you just stare at the dark oak, contemplating getting up to lock the door behind him.

Robin slings an arm over your waist, ducking her face next to yours and muttering “You know how I like fun patterns on you.”

“Robs, you just like fun patterns.”

She brings a hand up, resting her chin on it and looking into the corner of the room, thinking deeply. “Well, yeah, exactly. That’s why I like them on you. You make things I already like a hundred times better because they’re combined with you.” Your chest swells with adoration at your girlfriend’s words, and you lean in close to press your lips to hers despite the unlocked door. “I love you.” You whisper quietly, and she echoes the words back to you without a moment’s hesitation.

Pushing the magazine away from you, you roll onto your side, resting your head on a propped up hand. Robin’s gaze drops down to where your shirt rides up, exposing a sliver of your abdomen, and she lets her fingers wander there, tracing absentminded shapes onto your skin. “So you’ll get the bikini?” She asks hopefully, eyes trailing up your body to finally land on your face. “Yeah, I probably will.”

The grin that makes its way onto her face is slow and hard for her to fight off, so she lets it conquer, flashing it in your direction. She leans in close to you, but just before she can kiss you, you interrupt her. “Robin, go lock the door.” She flies off the bed in such an eager manner it makes you giggle to yourself, but Robin winces as she turns the lock, hoping its click doesn’t alert your police chief of a dad. She tiptoes back to the bed, climbing onto the mattress so close to you that she layers her body above yours, intertwining your legs together.

Shimmying onto your back, you smile up at your girlfriend, a chill running up your spine when she runs her fingertips up the side of your neck. Robin leans down, pressing a long and teasing kiss just underneath her fingertips, and you can feel the way her lips quirk up into a smile against your neck when your back arches off the mattress. She laughs to herself when your fingers sew into her hair, pulling her head up and closer to your face.

“Kiss me, Robin.” You plead, eyes flickering down to her lips. You admire the moment her tongue jots out to lick her lips, but don’t have time to process the fact that she’s already leaning down to kiss you with an obedient “Yes ma’am.”

She moans when your fingers scratch at her scalp, but she tilts her head and slackens her jaw to deepen the kiss nonetheless, her lips parting. Your fingers tighten around her golden locks when her tongue finally meets yours, and you hum in satisfaction, pushing her closer to you by the back of her head.

Robin leans most of her weight on her right arm, letting her free hand trail up your body. When she finds the edge of your jeans, she grips the denim fabric in her hands, fingers expertly working to unbutton them. She doesn’t bother undoing the zip, only slipping her hand under your jeans and down your panties. You let out a sharp breath at her cold touch, hand flying to grip her wrist, stopping her movements. She pulls back from the kiss with a wet string of saliva connecting your lips to hers, a silent question lingering on her lips.

“Risky.” You breathe out, and she nods, an unwavering look of content on her features. “What?” You laugh at her lack of response, a hand tightly clutching the fabric of her t-shirt. “Not if you can be quiet.”

She laughs even as you push her head back down into the kiss, tongue immediately tangling with yours, muffling her sounds into mere moans. Her fingers wiggle beneath your underwear, and you loosen your hold on her wrist to let her do as she pleases to you. She trails her hand down, lips suddenly breaking from the kiss so she can avert attention to your neck instead. “No, Robin!” You gasp, twitching away from her mouth. “You know you can’t leave any marks!” She leaves her lips on your neck, letting her head drop down so her forehead rests onto the mattress as she grumbles disappointedly.

“Let me break the rules just one time.” She murmurs, voice laced with dismay. You gently push at her chest, and she instantly rolls off you, letting you swing a leg over her hips to straddle her. She pouts underneath you, hands coming to cross over her chest, but you pull them down, tilting your head at her in question. “No, don’t be upset Robs.”

Robin shrugs, huffing to further showcase her emotions to you. You lean down, pressing your lips to hers once, then quickly again before moving to press kisses onto each of her cheeks. Her cheeks tense under your kisses as she breaks into an unwilling smile, but her hands come up to grip yours hips anyway. “I’ll let you leave marks sometime, okay? Somewhere my dad won’t see, when literally any other person could be the suspect, okay?”

Robin groans, throwing her head back onto the mattress and squinting her eyes as though deep in thought. Then, she shrugs her shoulders, one hand shooting up to cup the nape of your neck and harshly pulling you down, slamming your lips down onto hers. It’s a violent kiss, one that all teeth and tongue, and Robin easily flips your positions back around, hands working to push your shirt up. “But for now, somewhere he won’t see.” She tells you, one hand snaking underneath your back and unclasping your bra.

Her mouth immediately meets your breast, lips wrapping around your nipple, and your hand returns to your girlfriend’s hair, biting down on your bottom lip to avoid making any sound.

“Rob-”

“Hey, what do you girls want for dinner!?”

Robin jerks up away from you at the sound of your dad’s voice on the other side of the door as he knocks loudly, and you scramble up to clasp your bra again and pull your shirt down. For extra measure, you pull the closest hoodie to you over your head before opening the door and facing your dad. El and Max stand in the living room, and El stares at you for a long moment before turning to look at Jim. She pokes him in the side, whispering “Ask her.”

“These two want pizza, that okay with you and Robin?” He asks you with a sigh, and you nod. “Alright, the four of you take care, I’ll order the pizzas for you and go, I have something to do. You’re in charge, hon, alright?” You nod again, pocketing the money he hands you.

Robin comes out of your room just as Jim shrugs his jacket on, and the four of you watch as he leaves. “Should we watch something?” You ask when the door shuts, watching as Robin slumps down on the couch in front of the television. El and Max stare at you for a long moment, and you gesture your hands as to ask what’s going on.

“I didn’t know girls could kiss each other like girls and boys do.” The gasp flies from your lips before you can prevent it, and Robin’s head snaps towards your sister so fact that her neck might have snapped. “El… Where did you - what do you mean?”

“El spied on you and saw you and Robin kissing.” Max clarifies with a shrug of her shoulders, moving slowly to sit in your dad’s armchair.

“El, I thought we agreed you wouldn’t do that.” You gulp, unable to think of anything else to say. Robin stands, turning around to face you, panic written all over her face. The living room is silent for a long and uncomfortable moment as your brain races to find a solution. “Okay, El sit down. Max, next to her on the couch.” You demand, bringing a hand up to your mouth so you can bite at your thumb nail anxiously. The younger girls scatter to sit on the couch in front of the television, nervously glancing at each other before looking back up at you and Robin.

“Are you girlfriend-girlfriend?” El asks, and you freeze, shooting Robin a side glance. She shrugs, and you decide in that moment to be truthful, so you turn back to your sister and nod. “But it’s really important that you don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“Because dad would get mad that you keep your door closed?” El hypothesises, and despite the laugh that wants to escape you, you shake your head. “No, El. Look, a lot of people - most people aren’t open to the idea of two girls or two boys being partners. You know, it could really get us in trouble.” You crouch down in front of El and Max, though your gaze doesn’t move away from your younger sister’s face. “Does that bother you, El? That Robin and I are together?”

El shakes her head, looking back at Robin and smiling softly. “I like Robin. She gives me free ice cream sometimes. And she is funny. And you spend all your time with her so I know she is a good person.” You nod in relief, moving your attention to Max. “What about you, Max?”

“No, I think it’s cool. I sometimes hear people talk about couples like you but I didn’t think they actually existed.” Robin chuckles at Max’s words, then looks at you. She notes the stress on your face and brings a hand up to rub your back, furrowing her eyebrows when you flinch on instinct. “You really can’t tell anyone.” Robin echoes your previous words, taking her hand off you and looking at the younger girls with the most serious face she can muster.

“Why don’t people like when two girls or boys go out?” Max finally asks, looking between you. Robin brings her shoulders up to her ears, holding them there for a moment before letting them drop low in a sad shrug as she kneels down beside you. “I wish I knew, Max.” She offers, sighing deeply. She glances towards you, hesitantly extending her arms out to propose a hug. You let yourself fall into her arms, bringing your hands up to hide your face as you whine anxiously, crying “Fuck, we messed up Rob!” Robin tightens her hold on you, caressing your back in slow circles.

“I’m sorry I spied.” Apologises El, eyes clouding with distress. “Will you two promise not to tell anyone? And I mean anyone at all, in the whole world.” Asks Robin, keeping you close to her.

“Promise.” They echo in unison.

“And when the pizza comes, you can pay.” Robin decides as punishment with a sense of finality in her tone of voice. Both Max and El’s heads snap towards you, panic etched onto their faces. Digging your face out of the crook of Robin’s neck, you glimpse at the younger girls, laughing quietly at their expressions. “Can spy through people’s minds but can’t pay for pizza.” You scoff, staring at them longly.

“This is serious, you get that right?” You emphasise one last time, deeply exhaling when they both nod again. “Robin, let me speak to you in private for a moment.” Robin follows you back into your room, standing by the closed door for a long moment in utter silence. At the sight your stillness, she walks towards you, spinning you around and walking you back to the door until you’re pressed up against it. She takes a minute to look at you, then presses her lips against yours in a passionate kiss that has you melting in her arms.

“And here I thought Steve was going to be the only person to know until at least the nineties.” You mumble against her lips, feeling her chest rumble with a silent laugh. She pats your thigh twice at the sound of the doorbell, muttering “Yeah, like any of us will still be alive by the nineties.”

k62256

"one of your funny feelings again, merlin?"

eggsaladstain

i love one (1) soft heroic gentle pure good space boy

kosmogrl

lunarriviera

transfemmbeatrice

thought of this immediately and was delighted to discover it’s the same op

someoneoffthestreet

I like that this episode gave the audience nowhere to hide from who Caleb used to be

with the campaign, there was a degree of separation between the audience and what Caleb was describing. the simple nature of the show's format provided the audience tacit permission to downplay and soften Caleb's story, even while Caleb himself tries to impress on everyone that he believed in what he did. ("It was a good time. We believed in the Empire, we were going to keep it strong. He was cruel. He hurt us a lot. Made us go through extreme circumstances, but we got strong." / "He made you executioners?" "We wanted to be.")

the animation provides no such luxury. we are given graphic, up-close depictions of the kinds of things Bren did to people as a Volstrucker. the camera lingers on the violence. nowhere to hide. that's also why it's so important that they removed the false memory Trent gave Bren and replaced it with the trio simply taking him at his word.

what happened to Bren was a horror and a tragedy, and the show makes you look at it, really look at it. it says "don't look away. this is what was done to him. this is what he did. this is what he believed in. will you accept him still?"