It's always "Team Cap" this, and "Team Iron Man" that. Let me happily be Team Adult, starring Nat, Sharon and T'Challa
Okay, so parallels are something I’m amazed by and this one… I think I’m never getting over it, honestly.
Damn Miss Potts runnin in those heels
You have to specify which arm these days one is detachable.
I love Tony’s little repulsor boots ❤️
Tony and Steve waited patiently outside the hospital, Tony leaning forwards on his chair, burying his face in his hands. Steve felt a slight pang in his chest to see Tony with his inner fire extinguished.
He placed his hand on Tony’s back, hoping that he could bear some of his pain. Unfortunately though, that was not how pain worked.
Besides, Steve himself couldn’t keep his legs still. Whenever he forcibly made a leg cease bouncing, his other leg would involuntarily begin to bounce. He silently prayed that Bucky would be there soon to provide some comfort.
News about Peter’s injury was displayed in the hospital’s television screen. Steve was certain that it was what was trending in all public media.
‘spider man taken down in battle’ were the words in bold written below the anchor who announced the news with a grave face. What annoyed Steve about what all the news channels were saying was that they all had painted Peter as a warrior of some sort.
They were right, Peter was a warrior by his own right. But he was also just a boy. A boy who always saw good in everything. A boy who had too much hope for the world. A boy who talked a bit too much during battle.
He reminded Steve a lot of himself when he was the same age. That possibly could have been the reason why Steve had grown fond of him in the first place.
“I came as soon as I heard” panted a harried looking Bucky. He was carrying a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Tony looked up at him and a smile broke over his face like the breaking of dawn.
Despite the situation, Steve found a smile curling at the edge of his lips. Bucky had remembered. Peter was surely one who appreciated small gestures like that. Steve was certain that Peter would probably start crying after realising that uncle Bucky had remembered and purchased something specifically for him.
Bucky crossed over the room to sit in the empty seat next to Tony.
“How are we feeling?” he asked Tony in a soft voice.
“I don’t-” Tony began, but stopped because he was fumbling his words. he was very much unlike his usual self.
Tony took in a deep breath and restarted his sentence. “It’s all my fault” he said. Both Steve and Bucky began to protest, but Tony held up his hand and shook his head, cutting them off.
“It was my idea to enroll him in the avengers” his voice broke “Christ! what was I thinking? He was fifteen years for God’s sake. He was a child. And if he died-”
“That’s enough” Steve interrupted, unable to bear any more of it.
“Every word of what you just said is utter bullshit” said Bucky, trying to lighten the mood with his choice of words. “It was the kid’s choice to join, it’s not as if you forced him to recruit”
Tony was silent for a minute. And then-
“Steve doesn’t like that kind of talk” he teased.
Before Steve could protest, he was interrupted by a nurse who had just appeared from peter’s door. “He has regained consciousness now” she announced in a stern voice.
Tony gave a little sigh of relief. “Can we go see him now?” he asked, to which the nurse nodded in response. “Don’t do anything that will strain him” she added as they headed to the door.
“Which one of you is the father?” she asked, confused that all three of them had entered the room at the same time. Bucky turned to her and gave her a little shrug.
Steve had to stifle a yelp when he finally saw Peter. The boy was unrecognisable, with multiple wires and tubes and other technological devices that Steve knew nothing about connected to him. He was almost entirely covered by casts and sheets.
the only part of him that wasn’t covered was his face, which was bruised to a nasty shade of purple. It shocked Steve to notice that Peter was smiling at him .
“Hey Mr stark, Captain, uncle Bucky. I kinda had a little bit of an accident” said a voice from under the tubes and machinery.
Bucky laughed, “yeah, if you ever die like this, I’m going to kill you Kid”
Peter’s eyes sparkled “woah is that for me?”. He was attempting to gesture towards the bouquet of flowers Bucky was holding.
“Yep. I had a very awkward conversation with another customer there. Very awkward. She said that I had wrecked her car back when I was the winter soldier. I told her that Tony would pay her ten times the amount of the car if she let me go” answered Bucky, placing the bouquet on top of the table next to Peter’s bed.
“Hey!” objected Tony.
They all burst out laughing at that and Peter started chattering away, as usual. Steve zoned out about three seconds after he started talking.
He smiled to himself. It was the private smile once again, it was a smile that only ones close to him got to see. After all those years of searching, Steve knew it then. He was home.
let me know what you think!!!
@blvvewolf hope this is what you meant with your request(?)(is it considered a request?). I feel like this fic is a bit short (like all of my fics) but otherwise ok
I’m full on radical leftist and than suddenly I’m out here defending the American military system with my life when captain America: civil war gets brought up
‘marvel’s what if?’ this, ‘marvel’s what if?’ that, what if marvel hired me to give them better ideas for what if . huh. what if that happened.
Tony: Name five things that make you happy.
Peter: Hanging out with MJ, MJ’s opinions, MJ's eyes, how smart MJ is.
May: Are you sure you’re not in love with MJ?
Peter: I’m feeling a little less sure
Tony: Pepper just texted me.
Steve: Well, then respond.
Tony: Not yet. I don’t want to seem desperate.
Steve: You’re literally going to marry her this week.
Iron Sniper *plink plink plink*
There’s just something I love about seeing Tony Stark listen to vinyl in his state of the art futuristic workshop.
Like he has a record player and probably a collection of all his favourite artists on vinyl. He may even have some from Jarvis & Ana as well as his mother.
I just think it’s really sweet that maybe sometimes he pulls out a well loved vinyl that his mom would sing too while he danced with her, and continues to listen to it just dancing by himself hoping to hear his moms voice again.
Or him putting a vinyl on that he knows Jarvis & Ana would have loved, and imagining their smiles and how they’d whisper to eachother leaning in all close together.
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3fz2e6W
“I don’t want to get married anywhere,” Rhodey says, trying to be firm.
“You came to me with a problem.” Tony’s lips are very red, wine stained. Rhodey should probably stop looking at them. “This is the best solution." * Or: Rhodey has been talked into a lot of bad ideas by Tony in his time. It just so happens that getting fake married may be the worst one yet.
Words: 10106, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Iron Man (Movies)
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Janet Van Dyne, Roberta Rhodes, Original Characters
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes/Tony Stark
Additional Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Post-Iron Man 2, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coming Out, First Time, Intercrural Sex, Pining, Mutual Pining, Past Suicide Attempt, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Marriage Proposal, Bisexual Tony Stark, Gay James "Rhodey" Rhodes
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3fz2e6W
Summary: Two weeks after Siberia, (Y/N) says goodbye to her friends and the love of her life before they all go on the run.
Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader
Word Count: 4.6k
Warnings/Disclaimers: Disclaimer for very brief and mild spoilers for 'Black Widow' and for a brief scene containing implied smut
A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!
Chapter Ten Two Weeks Later… (Previous Chapter)
While she drove down the familiar streets of Washington, D.C., (Y/N) listened to her Beatles playlist playing faintly through her Volkswagen’s speakers and thought back on the last few weeks since Siberia. Zemo had been apprehended by T’Challa, who’d secretly followed Tony to the abandoned Hydra facility, and had been turned over to the custody of Agent Ross and the CIA. Rhodes had received treatment for his partial paralysis at Columbia University’s Medical Center and returned to the Avengers Facility less than two weeks later, where Tony had fitted his legs with exoskeletal frames to help him regain the ability to walk; despite his serious injury, Rhodes seemed to be in good spirits and had even given her a brief hug when she’d delivered him a bouquet of flowers and a fresh batch of ‘get well’ snicker doodles.
In the days following what had transpired in Siberia, (Y/N) began packing up her clothes and personal items with the intent of fully moving back to her and Sam’s old home in D.C.; while dating Steve, she’d split her time between D.C. and upstate New York but after their engagement, she began spending more time at the Avengers Facility. It was a tiring ordeal but Vision had been kind enough to help her, the android seemingly looking for anything that could distract him from the deafening silence that now filled the Compound. She did her best to stay out of Tony’s way while she packed, unsure of how he’d react if they crossed paths; according to Vision, the billionaire had been unusually reserved since returning from Siberia but as much as she wanted to comfort him, she didn’t think that he wanted to talk to someone as close to Steve as she was.
The only bright spot was that the publishing company decided to have Bring A Folding Chair printed under her real name; once the government officially declared Steve a war criminal and news of their broken engagement hit mainstream media, Mark finally relented to Greg’s pleas, believing that their publishing company didn’t stand to lose money now that she wasn’t publicly affiliated with the Avengers anymore. While (Y/N) appreciated everything Greg had done for her and was happy that her second published historical fiction novel would bear her real name, the victory felt small compared to all the heartache and loss she’d been through.
“‘Where courage resides, heartache lingers near.’” (Y/N) recited the Wakandan saying T’Challa had taught her under her breath, the words succeeding in bringing her a small bit of comfort. Stopping at a red light, she glanced over at the final box of belongings she’d just taken from the Avengers Facility and the small grocery bag resting on top before turning her attention back to the road, her fingers nervously drumming against the steering wheel while the light turned green and she continued driving. In no time, she’d pulled into the driveway and parked, gathering up her things before making her way to the backdoor; she rested the cardboard box against her hip as she unlocked the door and nudged it open with the heel of her ankle boot, entering the house and kicking the door closed behind her. “It’s just me, guys, the coast is clear!”
A moment later, Steve emerged from the hallway and gave her a small smile. “Hey there, sunshine.” He crossed the room in three steps and took the box from her tiring arms as he kissed her cheek. “How was the drive?”
“It was good, especially since I knew who was waiting for me when I got home,” (Y/N)’s smile widened as Sam, Clint and Scott filtered into the kitchen and she began unloading her grocery bag. “All right, you three, here’s some Band-Aids, Hydrogen Peroxide and Tylenol; I’m not exactly a nurse but this should be enough to treat all your injuries…”
“It’s perfect, Booksmart,” Sam patted her on the shoulder and grinned, wincing a little because of his split lip. “Nat and Wanda are hangin’ out in your room, Wanda’s been trying to get Nat to show her all of her injuries but Nat’s being stubborn as hell about it.”
(Y/N) nodded, grabbing some medical supplies before turning back to Steve. “You’ll be okay taking care of them while I help out Wanda and Nat?”
“Hey, I take offense to that, (Y/L/N)!” Clint interrupted, crossing his arms as his bruised face morphed into a look of playful outrage. “We’re three grown-ass men, we can take care of our own injuries. Isn’t that right, Lang?” They all looked over at Scott to see him leaning against the kitchen counter, his arms cushioning his head as his loud snores filled the room; the archer rolled his eyes in exasperation and let out a defeated sigh. “Yeah, never mind.”
As Steve started to treat his teammate’s multitude of injuries, (Y/N) turned and made her way to her bedroom as a memory from earlier that day played in her mind…
“Secretary Ross paid us a visit last evening,” Vision announced as he escorted her to her car. “Apparently, there was a security breach at the Raft and all four maximum-security prisoners escaped; he believes that their escape was aided by outside forces.”
(Y/N) raised a brow in surprise, outwardly calm but inwardly feeling anxious as she recalled how the five battered and beaten superheroes had shown up on her doorstep in the middle of the night. “Does he have any idea where they’ve gone?”
“The Quinjet that Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes stole was located in Estonia earlier this morning, so the Task Force is busy searching each major city in the country for the fugitives.” Giving her a sideways glance, the android continued talking with an overly-casual tone. “Secretary Ross also believes that they’ll be apprehended and back in the Raft by this time tomorrow.”
“As much as I hate that jackass, you have to give the man some credit for his boundless optimism…” (Y/N) quipped. Vision’s lips curled into a small smile, and neither of them brought the subject up again.
Planting one aircraft as a decoy while flying another back to the States behind the government’s back, (Y/N) thought with an amused chuckle, I wish I’d thought of that while I was writing For Queen and Country. She gently tapped on her bedroom door before opening it to reveal Wanda and Nat; the younger woman was lounging in her desk chair, her legs dangling over its armrest while she flicked through a large book on the mythologies of the world, while the spy was sitting cross-legged on her bed, examining a stack of records while one faintly played in the background.
“I never pegged you as a Don McLean fan, Nat,” (Y/N) remarked, setting the supplies on the bed before kicking off her shoes and hanging her sweater in the closet. “‘American Pie’ is such an intriguing song, isn’t it? Seriously, I could probably write a ten-page essay analyzing all the symbolism and hidden meanings in the lyrics.”
Natasha looked up from the records, her eyes full of fondness as she smiled and brushed a strand of short blonde hair behind her ear. “I bet you could, hot-shot. I haven’t listened to this song in a long time, but it’s nice to know that it still holds up.”
“Isn’t this song the one that Michael and Dwight sing in Season 4 Episode 14 of The Office? You know, the episode about the chair model Michael falls in love with?”
(Y/N) chuckled to herself as she nodded; she and Wanda initially bonded over the show and would watch it together whenever she visited the Compound, the younger woman eager to add another sitcom to her ever-growing collection and (Y/N) happy to oblige. “While dancing on the poor woman’s grave, to be exact; how Steve can dislike such an amazing show’s beyond me.” Wanda snorted in amusement while (Y/N) began rifling through the supplies she brought in. “Now c’mon, you two, let’s take a look at those injuries.”
The spy insisted that Wanda go first and (Y/N) relented, carefully dabbing aloe vera onto the younger woman’s neck where her restraining collar had chaffed her skin and treating a small cut on her forehead she’d sustained during their daring escape from the Raft; Wanda seemed to be in much better spirits now that she wasn’t locked away, but (Y/N) could tell by the look in her green eyes that she was missing a certain android. Once she finished tending to Wanda’s wounds, she suggested that the younger woman go check on the four men in the kitchen and make sure they weren’t making too much of a mess.
“So, are you going to tell me what you were up to these past two weeks?” (Y/N) asked as Natasha slowly removed her shirt, frowning in concern when she saw the bruises littering the spy’s chest and rib-cage. “Besides getting an awesome haircut and dye-job, of course. I’ve got to say, blonde looks pretty damn good on you.”
Huffing out a laugh, Natasha tossed her shirt aside and reached for the tube of IcyHot. “Such a flatterer, hot-shot. I’ll promise to tell you all the details someday, but let’s just say that…that I wiped a little red out of my ledger.”
(Y/N) nodded once, watching the spy begin to roll the ointment over her bruises and wince in pain; although Natasha had never really gone into detail about her past as a Black Widow, (Y/N) knew that she’d done things during that period of her life that still haunted her. Hearing that she’d worked to make things right and seeing the newfound look of peace on her face, she couldn’t help but feel proud for her friend and ashamed of the harsh words she’d recently hurled her way. She sat down on the edge of her bed and her fingers began tracing the stitching on her comforter as she timidly spoke, “I’m sorry for calling you a coward, Nat. You were only trying to keep the Avengers from falling apart and it was unfair of me to judge you for that.”
Natasha paused her work to rest a hand atop hers and give her a comforting smile. “It’s okay, I know that you didn’t mean it; you were shouldering so many burdens that week that it’s a little surprising you only had the one real breakdown. But you’re a strong one, (Y/N), I’ve known that since the day we met, when you insisted on helping us take down Hydra simply because it was the right thing to do. Everything that’s happened with the Accords and Siberia? Yeah, it’s gonna be tough to deal with but I know that you’ll get through it all even stronger than before.”
The two women shared a smile and after a moment, Natasha resumed her work and (Y/N) began neatly folding the uniforms and tactical gear that her two friends had draped over her dresser. When she got to a dark green vest, she hummed in approval and examined the garment with interest. “A new haircut, dye-job and a cool vest? You’ve really got it all, Nat…I mean, look at all the pockets this thing has!”
Once all their wounds had been thoroughly treated, (Y/N) cooked the exhausted superheroes some dinner and listened as they planned their next moves around the dinner table. Because of their obligations to their families, Clint and Scott had decided to turn themselves into the FBI; Natasha assured her that the pair would only be sentenced to house arrest but wouldn’t say how she knew that. Sam, Natasha and Wanda would also be leaving after dinner, claiming that they wanted to ensure that the two men safely reached the FBI’s Quantico headquarters.
Although she knew they were telling the truth, (Y/N) realized that they were also leaving to give her and Steve a little privacy to say their goodbyes. She appreciated her friends’ consideration, but she couldn’t help but feel a little anxious about their impending goodbye; she and Steve hadn’t been truly alone since the night before Peggy’s funeral and so many painful things had transpired since then, namely the confrontation between Steve and Tony that she’d inadvertently seen. It was difficult to believe that the man playfully arguing with Sam over the last scoop of homemade mac and cheese was the same man who came dangerously close to killing one of his closest friends, and (Y/N) had to force herself not to recall the look of blinding rage that she’d seen on his face that day. That’s not who Steve Rogers is, she told herself before reaching under the table and taking hold of her partner’s hand; Steve looked over at her in surprise but interlaced their fingers together with a soft smile.
After dinner, (Y/N)’s guests insisted on clearing the table and doing the dishes for her before they left, crowding themselves into the small kitchen before she could say or do anything to stop them. She took it upon herself to unload the box of belongings she’d retrieved from the Avengers Facility and put everything away, shaking her head in exasperation as the superheroes bickered away in the background; when she lifted her framed ‘Star Spangled Man’ record out of the box, an envelope fluttered to the ground and after picking it up, she read who it was addressed to and almost immediately recognized Vision’s neat handwriting.
“So he did know, that little sneak…” She murmured under her breath, tucking the envelope into her pocket with a smile and making her way to the kitchen, where the five superheroes were gathering up their gear.
Natasha zipped up her green vest before going over and enveloping her in a hug. “Take care of yourself, hot-shot. It won’t be easy keeping in contact while on the run but I’ll try my best, okay?”
She nodded and they shared a smile of understanding; turning towards Wanda, she pulled the envelope out of her pocket and handed it to the younger woman, whose face instantly brightened when she recognized who it was from. At least something good came out of this mess, she thought while they shared a brief hug, knowing deep-down that despite being on opposite sides of the law, Wanda and Vision were going to be just fine. She’d been able to keep her emotions in check for the whole night, but when her eyes met Sam’s she couldn’t stop herself from tearing up; her best friend, looking equally emotional, crossed the room in long strides and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug.
“No matter how many times I’ve done it, saying goodbye to you never gets any easier,” (Y/N) remarked, blinking away her tears as she tightened her hold around him. “Promise me you’ll be careful out there, Sam.”
“Of course, (Y/N), I promise; I’ll make sure we’re all okay.” When he pulled back, he sniffed and flashed her a small smile. “I’m really gonna miss annoying the hell out of you, Booksmart.”
“And I’m really going to miss threatening your life every time you use that nickname, Birdbrain.”
They both chuckled and hugged one last time before returning to the others; Clint gave her a brief one-armed hug and Scott, who kept addressing Steve as ‘Captain America’ and who’d just begun calling her ‘Miss America’, shook her hand and thanked her for dinner. Once they were sure that the coast was clear, the five superheroes bid her a final goodbye and left through the backdoor, disappearing into the darkness and leaving (Y/N) and Steve entirely alone.
After taking a moment to lock the door, (Y/N) turned and frowned when she realized that she was standing by herself in the kitchen. Then, a slow and familiar melody began drifting down the hall from her bedroom and her frown morphed into a tender smile. She made her way to her bedroom, pausing only to switch off the kitchen and living room lights, and her smile widened at what she discovered; Steve was standing in the middle of her bedroom, his hands in his pockets and a loving gleam in his azure eyes as he glanced up from the record player to meet her gaze.
“‘These Arms of Mine’ by Otis Redding.” Steve explained as he took a step forward. “In one of the emails you sent me when we were pen pals, you mentioned that this song was one of the best to slow dance to. So…” The super-soldier held a hand out to her, a timid and vulnerable expression suddenly crossing his face. “Dance with me, sunshine?”
(Y/N)’s heart warmed and she nodded, placing her hand in his and allowing him to sweep her up into a dance; Steve’s cheek leaned against the side of her head and while one arm wrapped around her waist to hold her close, their intertwined hands rested against his chest as they swayed together in a circle. Her eyes closed and while they slow danced to the soulful song, she tried her hardest to savor their farewell; she breathed in the familiar smell of his sandalwood cologne, committed the feeling of being wrapped in his embrace to her memory, and took comfort in the sound of his strong heartbeat mingling with the low vibrations of his quiet humming. Neither of them spoke as they danced, since words would only shatter the dream-like illusion; all they needed was to be with one another, to cherish what little time they had left together before reality came crashing down on them in the morning.
The song eventually came to an end and as it slowly faded away, (Y/N) looked up at Steve and met his melancholy gaze; the hand resting on his shoulder trailed upwards, her fingertips brushing through his blonde hair as his eyes fluttered closed at her touch, and she stood on her tiptoes to capture his lips in a slow kiss. Steve’s lips were soft and sweet against hers, both his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her impossibly close while he kissed her back; the gentle caution soon morphed into passion, their kiss deepening as their hands desperately grasped at one another.
“Steve…” (Y/N) let out a breathless moan once Steve began leaving open-mouthed kisses along her jawline and down her neck, her fingers tangling in his hair as she suppressed another moan. “Steve, sweetheart, please…”
“What’s it you want, baby?” Steve’s lips were pink and swollen when he finally tore himself away from her collarbone to see her face, his expression nearly desperate as his eyes searched hers. “Whatever it is, I’ll give it to you, I’ll give you anything you want…”
At the super-soldier’s tender words, (Y/N) was forced to blink away her rapidly-forming tears as she cupped his face with her hands. “I only want you, Steve. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Then I’m yours,” He breathed as his eyes darkened with desire, surging forward to claim her lips with another passion-filled kiss while they blindly stumbled towards her bed.
The next morning, (Y/N) woke to the familiar sound of a graphite pencil scribbling across a sheet of paper; throughout the course of hers and Steve’s relationship, she’d grown used to waking up to see her partner sitting against the headboard and immersed in working on his sketches, since he was an earlier riser than she was and enjoyed sketching while she was nearby to provide inspiration.
“You know, it’s more fun being drawn like one of your French girls when I’m awake to see you blush,” (Y/N) mumbled into her pillow, her arms tightening around it as she smiled in amusement. “C’mon, Rogers, surely they had nude models in those art classes you took in the 40’s?”
“Yeah, but I joined the Army before our class started the life drawing unit.” She chuckled and a moment later, one of his warm hands brushed against her bare back before moving to caress her cheek. “Does my muse wanna see what I just finished?”
Stifling a tired yawn, she blinked open her eyes and rolled onto her side to face Steve, who was sitting up against the headboard with his sketchbook resting on his boxer-clad lap; he angled the sketchbook towards her and she smiled as she examined the finished drawing of her sleeping face. “It’s wonderful, sweetheart! If I ever need a new illustrator for my novels, then you’ve definitely got a shoe-in for the job.”
“Given our personal relationship, it might be a little unethical of me to accept that offer.”
(Y/N)’s smile turned mischievous as she sat up in bed, one hand still holding the sheet around her while the other moved to rest against the side of his neck. “Is there anything I could possibly do to change your mind, Mr. Rogers?”
“You tryin’ to seduce me, Miss (Y/L/N)?” Steve asked with a growing smile and brow arched in mock inquiry, his arm already moving to wrap around her bare waist.
“Well, that depends…is it working?”
Instead of answering, the super-soldier tossed his sketchbook onto the dresser and pulled her into his lap before soundly kissing her; before either of them had a chance to deepen the kiss, they were interrupted by the ring of Steve’s cell phone and he broke away to reach for it. His cheerful smile faltered as his eyes skimmed the new text message and as she watched him type out a response, a sense of sadness replaced her earlier contentment. “That was Sam…I’ve gotta go soon. We planned on leaving the country right as Clint and Scott turn themselves in.”
Nodding, (Y/N) slipped out of Steve’s lap and wrapped herself in a bathrobe before padding out to the kitchen, leaving him alone to get cleaned up and dressed. Her hands shook as she went about preparing a cup of tea and she mentally kicked herself, wanting to appear strong for Steve’s sake; it’s not like you’re never going to see him again, she told herself while taking a shaky breath, you…you just don’t know when. But even the knowledge that they’d meet again someday couldn’t quell the feeling of foreboding in the pit of her stomach; Steve’s departure felt as though it marked the end of an era and that nothing would ever be the same again, even if the Accords were somehow ratified and Tony eventually forgave him for what he did.
The cup of tea worked to calm her down and she’d just placed her dirty mug into the dishwasher when Steve entered the kitchen; he was wearing his standard uniform minus his helmet and shield – the two items that clearly identified him as Captain America – and she was a little surprised to see that he hadn’t bothered shaving. Steve, as if sensing her inner thoughts, gave her a half-shrug. “Nat suggested that a beard might help me keep a low profile.”
“I guess you can’t wear a baseball cap and sunglasses everywhere,” (Y/N) feebly joked, earning her a small smile from him. “That reminds me, will you be laying low in Wakanda from time to time?”
“Only occasionally, once the scientists figure out how to remove Hydra’s conditioning from Bucky’s mind and wake him from his cryostasis; I don’t wanna distract him from his recovery and visiting too often may cause T’Challa some trouble, now that Wakanda’s vowed to open its borders to the rest of the world.”
She nodded in understanding. “Well, when you do, be sure to tell Bucky that I said hello and thank T’Challa for everything he’s doing.” Steve promised that he’d pass along her messages, then he reached into the duffel bag he placed onto the kitchen counter and withdrew a severely-battered hardcover book before walking over and offering it to her; her brow furrowed in confusion and she glanced back up at him as she asked, “What’s this?”
“Open it.” She did as he said, gingerly opening the faded cover of the book to reveal its title page. ‘The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum’ was printed at the top and written underneath in neat cursive was a single sentence: ‘Property of Steven G. Rogers.’ “A couple of months after Sokovia, Tony…he found some things of mine in his father’s archives; he figured that I should keep them instead of let them wind up in another museum exhibit. There were some old sketching journals, a few USO show posters, Ma’s wedding ring and that book. When I was a kid, Ma would read it to me whenever I got sick. She must’ve read through that book nearly a hundred times but it was the only thing besides the medicine that could make me feel better. And when I was accepted into Project Rebirth, I brought that book with me to basic training at Camp Lehigh and would read it when all the other recruits were asleep.” Looking up from the book, (Y/N) was taken aback by the sudden tears in his azure eyes. “That book gave me strength when I needed it most and comforted me when no one else was there to do it, and I want you to have it. I…well, I hope that it’ll do for you what it did for me all those years ago.”
(Y/N) carefully closed the book and held it against her chest as she smiled up at him. “I have something for you too.” Setting the fragile book down on the kitchen counter, she retrieved a thick scrapbook from the box of belongings she left in the living room and pressed it into Steve’s hands. “I finished it a couple of weeks after Lagos; I want you to take it with you, so that way it’ll be like I’m right there beside you and you won’t…you won’t feel alone.”
The super-soldier tucked the scrapbook into the duffel bag and zipped it closed before turning and pulling her into a tight hug that she instantly returned, her arms latching around his trim waist and face burrowing into his chest as unshed tears prickled in her eyes. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
She felt him press kisses against the top of her head before murmuring, “I’ll come back to you soon, (Y/N), I promise…whatever it takes.”
“No. No, not whatever it takes.” Pulling back, (Y/N) cupped his face with her hands and gave him an imploring look. “Please, sweetheart…promise me that you won’t let the circumstances change who you are. You’re a good man, Steve Rogers…promise me you’ll keep that intact.” Steve nodded and their lips met in a final goodbye kiss, full of sadness and tears but also hope, hope that one day they’d finally get to live a life of peace together. Their foreheads rested against one another as their kiss came to an end and before she knew it, he’d pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek, grabbed his duffel bag and walked out the backdoor. “Goodbye, sweetheart,” She whispered to herself, reaching for The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and holding it against her chest for comfort as she stood alone in the kitchen.
When (Y/N) had said goodbye to her friends in that cemetery over two years ago, an old song from the 1940’s had played in her concussed mind. ‘We’ll Meet Again,’ one of the most famous recordings to come out of the World War II era, spoke to the uncertainty of the war and how going off to fight affected soldiers and their loved ones alike. When she’d thought of it back after the Battle at the Triskellion it had been in a tongue-and-cheek manner; she simply had a feeling deep-down that she and Steve were going to see each other again someday. But now, everything about the song felt hauntingly real to her and as she clutched the book he’d gifted her, she couldn’t help but hear the song’s poignant and relevant lyrics play out in her mind once again:
“We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when, but I know we’ll meet again some sunny day…”
(Y/N) (Y/L/N) will return in Thor: Ragnarok
A/N: Thank you guys so much for reading this story, and stay tuned for the next story in this on-going series (It’ll be linked down below)! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, so check it out if you haven’t already! Enjoy!
Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4TsJ2TY1F2HDXhEYOfzCjY?si=b1abdaeccc4c4d21
Civil War Masterlist
Tagging: @mrs-obrien @lahoete @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk @momc95 @savedbystyle @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat @marinettepotterandplagg @khuang3 @supersouthy @benakenalove @brooke0297 @hufflepeople @becausewelie @outoftheregular @supreme-tantrum @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley @username23345 @crist1216 @boomboomg1rl
Are there any tattoo artists in the Boiling Isles? Has there been one character sporting any?
Because it seems to me that if Luz, Eda, and Lilith could get the known glyphs tattooed fingertip-size on their palms, they wouldn't need the flashcards.