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soulgazingwithbucky · 1 year

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Chances (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Agent!F!Reader

Summary: For most, life is too short to miss any chances. For Steve Rogers, life is too long to take all of them.

Warnings: swearing; mentions of blood, gun use, violence; unhappy ending (alternate ending needed?!)

Word Count: 8.3k

A/N: hey everyone i have a crush i cant do anything about so i made it everyone's problem in the form of this fic. also i swear bucky's coming back to my writing with a vengeance

“Coulson, slow down,” you grumble. The clock reads an ungodly hour, and Coulson’s near-incomprehensible speech only propels you further into half-conscious annoyance.

“Get up,” Phil urges. “We found him.”

⋆⋆⋆

You lean in, ears straining as Captain America addresses Agent Horowitz.

“Where am I, really?” he says.

Your eyes dart back and forth between several screens.

“Shit,” Fury hisses. A moment later, you hear the door slam behind you.

“Told you!” you call after him as Horowitz reports a Code 13.

You turn around to look at Hill, who watches the monitors with her arms across her chest.

“I told him,” you say as Captain America breaks through the walls, shoving agents to the ground.

⋆⋆⋆

Fury takes a seat beside you with a huff.

With your eyes on your computer, you start, “I–”

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence.”

Maria peers at you over her screen, flashing you a barely-there smirk. You instead ask a question to satiate your curiosity.

“Is…he okay?”

Fury gives an exasperated shrug.

“Said he had a date.”

⋆⋆⋆

“How’s the apartment, Captain Rogers?” Fury asks. Across the desk, Steve sits, shifting uncomfortably as the chair struggles under his frame.

“Fine,” he says curtly, his eyes flitting between all the different objects in Fury’s office. You and Maria share a look.

“Have you been getting enough rest?” she asks.

“Trying.”

“Well, we have another meeting to run to, Captain,” Fury says, “but you’re welcome to stay as long as you like. The agents have a gym in the basement, and the dining facility is on the tenth floor.”

He stands up; you and Maria follow closely behind.

There’s no meeting. You had planned to spend an hour with Captain Rogers, but it’s clear there isn’t much to say. You look back at Steve with his head low, his back hunched.

“What do we do, Fury?” you ask, closing the door behind you.

“Give him time.”

While Hill and Fury retreat to their offices, you change into your workout clothes and make your way to the basement. You’re surprised to step out of the elevator and see an impossibly muscular frame standing by the gym entrance.

“Captain,” you greet. He’s peering past the glass with a slight grimace, staring at the equipment–fancy, shiny things with a thousand buttons each.

“Agent,” he responds, replacing his uncomfortable expression with a solemn nod.

“Nice, isn’t it?” you say, standing beside him to observe the room together.

He chuckles, more out of astonishment than anything.

“Yeah,” he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. His eyes shift downwards at his feet before peering back up, watching your coworkers sprint on the treadmill or re-rack their weights. “It’s something.”

“What are you gonna do?” you say, eyeing the leg press machine that’s calling your name. You look over at Steve just as he glances at the punching bag. He opens his mouth to answer you, but then he notices the odd wires coming from behind the bag, the complicated mat beneath that seems to be flashing at least five different colors. He closes his mouth and instead shakes his head.

“Just giving myself a tour,” he answers.

You tilt your head at his fib.

“You got a minute?” you ask, your request earning a raised eyebrow.

⋆⋆⋆

“Migs!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up at the sight of the combat gym owner.

He yells your name in response as you meet in front of his business’s entrance.

“Appreciate it, Migs,” you say as the older gentleman pulls you into a side hug. You wrap your arm around his back, returning the embrace.

“Anything for you, kiddo,” Miguel, a near-father figure who has a few decades on you, responds as he unlocks the gym door.

Behind you, Steve smiles at the friendly exchange. He stays a good distance away, partly out of respect and partly out of caution.

Regardless, it’s hard to ignore the man built like a linebacker with striking movie-star looks.

“Who the hell is this guy?” Miguel demands, gesturing at the hero in the shadows. Steve blinks in surprise. In the past few weeks, he has been the center of attention–not unlike his life before the ice, but somehow completely unlike it at the same time. Despite his longing to be invisible once again, he’s taken aback that someone doesn’t recognize him.

“A friend,” you tell him, shooting Steve a wink. He smiles, welcoming the anonymity.

Miguel turns on the lights, illuminating the gym in dim orange. Steve steps in, admiring the weathered facility. Surrounded by muted walls, a dusty floor, and tattered boxing ropes, he feels a sense of comfort that’s completely novel to him since coming out of the ice.

Miguel takes all of thirty seconds to show the captain around.

“We got mitts, gloves on the rack over there,” he says, keys jingling as he gestures around him. “Boxing ring with a round timer, obviously. Uhhhh, jump ropes, elliptical–if it’s working. And then you got the bags…Oh, and we also got one-on-one training-” Miguel pauses, scanning Steve from head to toe “-if you need that sorta thing.”

Steve chuckles, murmuring his gratitude.

“You need anything else, ace?” Miguel asks you.

You shake your head. “Just sign up my friend for a membership, and we’ll be good.”

Steve’s head snaps up at your request. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

As Miguel passes you an application on a clipboard, you say, “Good thing you didn’t ask.”

⋆⋆⋆

“I hope I’m not overstepping,” Steve tells you, gesturing for the waiter as you slide into the booth.

“Not at all,” you say, still catching your breath from hurrying over. You’re not sure why the captain has called you, but you know it has to be important. Steve’s eyes drift to your brow, where a butterfly bandage holds a wound closed.

“That Loki’s a fun one,” you say, bringing a hand to the injury. You don’t feel the need to indulge him in the details of nearly getting buried underneath a collapsing building. “Is everything okay, Captain?”

“Steve, please,” he insists.

“Is everything okay…Steve?” Though you’ve seen the captain’s name printed in briefs and articles a million times, it feels odd to address him by name. “Miguel didn’t try to charge you that ridiculous sweating fee?”

He lets out an amused exhale through his nose and shakes his head.

“It’s funny you mention Loki. I…wanted to ask your opinion. On the Avengers Initiative.”

Surprise paints your face. You weren’t expecting to be Captain America’s advisor tonight. But you lean back and sigh with the weight of his request. Your waiter comes to take your order, giving you a few moments of reprieve.

“I know what Fury would want me to say,” you say after your waiter exits.

He leans forward, resting clasped hands on the table.

“I want to know what you want to say,” he implores, his piercing gaze making it difficult to collect your thoughts. You take a deep breath.

“I think…you need time to heal,” you begin. “To recover. I mean, not like I’ve got the experience, but something tells me you don’t wake up after seventy years fully assimilated. In a perfect world, you would get all the time you need to be okay before getting back out into the world, let alone saving it.”

He knows the answer, but he presses, “And what world is this?”

The words feel heavy on your tongue.

“One that needs you.”

You watch his troubled eyes, the twitch of his lip.

“But you already knew that, didn’t you?” you say.

He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah,” he mutters to himself.

He looks up at you, repeating: “Yeah. I guess I just needed to hear it from someone else.”

“Glad I could help,” you say. You peek over his head, trying to peer into the kitchen. Steve nudges his plate towards you, and you gratefully take a few of his fries.

⋆⋆⋆

“Dillard, find out what’s going on in Bay 3 for me. So what do you think?”

The upper half of your body is hidden under thick pipes. You peer closely at the maze of metal, willing the leak to show itself.

“He’s…cute.”

You lift your head to look at Nat. The loud bang echoes throughout the room as your head meets pipes. You wince, dragging yourself out of the underbelly of Helicarrier plumbing. Nat raises an eyebrow as you rub your head.

“Not what I thought you were going to say,” you reply.

“So you disagree?” she says, tilting her head.

“Uh. No?” you say, tapping nervously on the wrench. She smiles as you avert your gaze. “How are the…other ones? Thor and Dr. Banner and the rest?”

“I should probably make sure they’re not tearing each other apart,” Nat says, rolling her eyes. “You coming?”

You look around you. The hull is so much quieter than the rest of the carrier, allowing you to bask in comfortable silence while you and your crew work.

“Nah. Hill is better at that kinda stuff. I’ll be here if you need me.”

⋆⋆⋆

Above you, the ceiling shakes slightly, scattering dust around you. You stand up slowly, the sound of distant rumbling calling your attention.

“All hands to stations.”

“Shit!” you cry, dropping your tools and sprinting up the stairs.

Agents are running all around you, and the hallway is flooded in flashing red. You have no idea what’s going on, but you rush to the weapons room, ready to defend the Helicarrier from god-knows-what.

You crash into someone’s shoulder, the force sending you spinning to the ground. Strong hands grasp your arms, lifting you to your feet.

“Sorry,” Steve says between breaths.

“Steve,” you say. “What’s going on?”

“Under attack. Be safe. Check in later.”

“Copy that.”

He clasps your shoulders again before disappearing into the crowd of agents. You watch him for a second before turning around, continuing on to the weapons room.

Agent Weaver catches up to you.

“First name basis, huh?”

“Shut up.”

⋆⋆⋆

You hesitate before rapping on the door three times.

Steve greets you with a smile. Beads of water are dripping from his hair down his neck. He’s in sweatpants and a white tee that could definitely be sized up. As you enter his apartment, he hands you a takeout container.

“Thanks for coming,” he says as he closes the door behind you.

“Well, when you bribe me with shawarma…”

He laughs, but he’s rubbing his hands together and crinkling his eyebrows. You set your food down and plant yourself in front of him.

“Hey, it’s just a debrief,” you tell him, wrapping your hands around his biceps. Your touch brings him back to reality. “It’s no big deal. Fury just talks for an hour.”

“Yeah, it’s…been a while since one of these, I guess.” He tries to laugh it off.

You leave his side, sitting down at the dining room table.

“If it makes you feel better, you did about two million dollars less damage than Bruce and Thor.”

“It’s not that.” He throws himself on the couch, stretching his legs along the cushions. “I guess authority has never been a big fan of me.”

“Authority doesn’t get along with Captain America?”

“Authority doesn’t get along with the punk that lied about fifty times to get into the military.”

You speak between bites: “Then you must’ve gotten along with Tony Stark. Wonder why Nat said you had your panties in a twist over him.”

He perks up, resting his arms along the back of the couch. “She said that? Exactly like that?”

You snicker at his sudden interest, choking on a slice of tomato. “Does that bother you?” you tease.

He concedes, leaning back on the couch’s arm. “That Stark is something else. I wonder what Peggy would say if she knew I almost fought Howard’s son.” Steve stares at a spot on the wall, his mind a flurry of what-ifs.

⋆⋆⋆

Ambush. You’ve been tasked to partner with Captain America for his first official SHIELD assignment, and it’s a fucking ambush.

“Stay close,” the captain says.

Steve tosses his shield at someone behind you. You hear them slump to the ground while another approaches; the shield narrowly misses you as you duck and sweep your leg out, causing a third henchman to crash to the floor.

“Watch it!” you say before Steve knocks you to the ground, shielding your body while a whizz of bullets flying past.

“Guess someone has to,” Steve shoots back before pulling you up. You roll your eyes as you unholster two weapons on your belt, one pointed to your left and the other pointed behind you. You pull both triggers without batting an eye. You don’t bother looking; Steve’s mesmerized expression confirms that you’ve hit your targets.

Steve is speechless. He has never seen you in battle before, and it’s–

“Six o’clock, Rogers!” you say, causing the hero to duck down as you aim a bullet at a man sprinting towards you. You hear yet another coming from behind, and you aim a bullet at Steve’s shield. You turn just in time to see the ricocheted bullet take out the last goon.

Knowing you were safe, you let out a fatigued sigh and pat your newest coworker on the shoulder.

“Welcome to SHIELD, Cap.”

⋆⋆⋆

Macau was absolutely beautiful, but the jet lag never quite wore off, especially when your tasks still catered to Eastern fucking Standard Time. As much as you could appreciate the change of pace, you hoped Fury would never give you an assignment like this again.

- idk steve, seems a little unfair to assign me to track the train in vancouver when i was assigned the lemurian star just a couple weeks ago. did you KNOW what time it was over here?!

- anyway, im going to bed. night!

- You've only told me a hundred times. I’m glad it was you helping us out, even if you had to track the Star from thousands of miles away.

- Good night. Sweet dreams.

- :)

You smile at the three notifications on your phone. Tucking yourself under the covers, you reach over to turn off your night lamp.

Ring ring ring.

Maria’s name on your phone earns a prolonged groan from you. So first they schedule meetings at all hours, and now they expect you to pick up the phone at every possible second.

“Hill, I love you, but I swear to god–”

“You remember that sushi place? The one on 10th Avenue?”

You feel a sudden sweat forming on your brow, even though the air conditioner is blasting. You had first heard the coded emergency message years ago, when you first trained for SHIELD. Never did you think it would actually be used.

You clear your throat, forcing your voice to steady.

“Yes, we were there with your mom and your grandma.”

Is someone listening? Are you okay? Who compromised SHIELD?

“Right. I’ll talk to you later.” Maria’s voice betrays nothing before she hangs up the call.

You only brought a duffel bag to Macau, and you’re now shoving it full of underwear and clothes.

Wait, honestly, fuck it–Hill’s call told you scatter immediately, who the fuck cares if you had enough shirts?

You leave the SHIELD-sanctioned apartment, tossing your phone into a nearby garbage bin. You think of Nat, of Fury, of Steve. You wonder if they’re okay, but you have to settle for never knowing.

⋆⋆⋆

Red pixels fill your screen, slowly sharpening into a familiar face.

“Nat,” you gasp. Any suspicion about the unknown number on your burner phone melts away.

“Hey,” she says. She delivers her greeting with the nonchalance of a friend who has just seen you for brunch. “If you were a traitor, you would tell me, right?”

You match her lopsided smile. “No, of course not. Hey, what’s your social security number again?”

Natasha laughs, but her joy dissipates quickly.

“Nat? What’s been going on?”

On your end, you’ve been on the run, though you never quite knew who you were running from. You’ve had no contact with your coworkers since you received the call from Hill. You’ve heard various rumors, but you haven’t had the comfort of confirming their truth.

She peers somewhere off camera.

“A lot.”

She turns back to you, continuing: “He…hasn’t been good.”

“Why? What’s happening?”

You hold your breath as Nat stands up, willing her shaky camera work to still. You can barely make out their bare environment, lighted only by bars of fluorescent light.

“Maybe he should tell you himself.”

You watch as Nat hands over the phone. Steve looks up at her in confusion before turning towards her device. You see the relief flood his features. He says your name like it’s a breath of air after being held underwater.

“Steve,” you greet softly. “Are you okay?”

Steve presses his lips together. His eyes become dazed as he tries to find the words. After a few moments, you say his name again.

“I had a friend.

“A best friend,” he begins. “I thought I lost him.”

He hangs his head, and for a moment, all you see are strings of blonde hair.

“But the truth is much worse.”

The last time you had spoken, Steve was an explosion of excitement, practically setting the world record for longest run-on sentence as he told you Peggy was alive. Now, your heart breaks at the sight of the dejected hero.

“He doesn’t even remember me,” Steve continues.

You want to cry for Steve and tell him everything will be okay. You want to invite him into your arms and hold him. Instead, something tells you to push that aside. You grit your teeth; your grip is tight on your phone. You have half a mind to book a plane ticket to…you don’t even know where they are, but you want to be there, dammit.

“Then do something he won’t forget, Steve.”

⋆⋆⋆

You rush through the halls, dodging white coats and crash carts.

Room 311, room 311, room 311…

An armed guard reaches out to stop you before recognition settles. You glare at him, but the delay causes you to rethink storming into the hospital room after Steve’s near-death experience. You peer at him through the window, pressing your hand onto the glass. With the stitches along his cheek, the bruising on his jaw, and the scrapes along his browline, he looks…fallible. Vulnerable. Human.

You make eye contact with the man sitting beside him. He looks unfamiliar to you, but the bruises and cuts on his face tell you enough. He gives you a slow nod before turning back to his book.

⋆⋆⋆

You and Steve lean in closely, pretending to be deep in conversation while you keep a watchful eye on Bruce and Nat. You lean against the Stark Tower wall while Steve stands in front of you.

“I knew it,” he whispers, testing the limits of his peripheral vision as he peers at his friends.

“Yeah?” you say, taking a sip from the flute of champagne.

He turns his attention away from the two to face you. “One hundred percent. It was a perk of being friends with Bucky–I could see the girls drooling from a mile away.”

“And if they were drooling for you?” you say, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

“Yeah. Right,” he says, his eyebrows shifting upwards in disbelief as he takes a sip from his own drink.

“Maybe you just couldn’t tell,” you inform him.

“I think I would know, agent,” he tells you.

You reach out to adjust the collar of his shirt. As you pull away, your fingertips brush against his neck.

“I guess you would, captain.”

He gives you that dazzling, all-American smile before glancing at the bar. Nat looks up at the same time, locking eyes with Steve. He turns back to you abruptly, slamming his hand on the wall by your head in feigned nonchalance.

“Real subtle, Rogers,” you tell him. Tony rolls his eyes at the sight of you pinned beneath the captain’s body.

Steve drops his head, and you feel his hair graze your forehead. You’re glad he’s too engrossed in his embarrassment to notice that his proximity has made you dizzy.

“Shit,” he murmurs, stepping away. “Sorry.”

“Romanoff!” you call with a smirk. “Get the swear jar!”

⋆⋆⋆

“Can we talk about the mall again?” you question. So what if your words are slurring together a little, who cares?

Nat tucks her chin, willing you to continue with expectant eyes.

“So you mean to tell me…,” you begin slowly.

“Yes.”

“You look like that…And Steve looks like that…”

“Sure.”

“And your solution to avoid attention was to…”

“Kiss.”

“Kiss, right.”

You and Nat share a look before devolving into a fit of laughter.

“And it–”

“–worked!” Nat finishes. She takes a swig of her beer. “I’m good at what I do, agent. I don’t know what to tell you.”

Your eyes drop to the floor. You fiddle with the rim of your glass, before telling your friend:

“Tell me it meant nothing.”

Nat looks at Bruce, who has tucked himself between Dr. Cho and Clint. He looks on as Rhodey shares a familiar story, smiling and chuckling at all the right parts. He feels her eyes on him, and he gives her a smile that feels like home.

Her eyes move to Steve next, America’s hero for the better part of a century. He’s unmistakable. He commands attention, and he deserves it, too. He stands tall, knowing the world is always watching.

Finally, her gaze lands on you. You’re incredibly capable, magnificently skilled, and you would deny it all in a second. Her most humble friend, who declines the most notorious assignments to bask in the solace of the less glamorous work instead.

She reaches over the bar to place her hand atop yours. With all due respect, fuck Lillian with the lip piercing, and fuck Kristen from Accounting. Steve’s perfect match is right in front of her.

⋆⋆⋆

You feel your airways functioning again as the weight of the couch is lifted off of you. You swallow lungfuls of air, and the sudden intake causes you to choke and cough. Warmth radiates from strong hands on either sides of your head.

“Hey,” Steve croons. “Hey, I’m here.”

“Actually, I wedged myself between the couch and the floor,” you groan through the sharp pain in your ribs, “in hopes that Thor would rescue me from the big metal man.”

Your poorly-timed joke catches Steve off guard, and he finds himself laughing as he searches you for any hidden injuries.

“Yeah, you definitely have a concussion.”

⋆⋆⋆

You watch as the unfamiliar number blinks on your phone, but something compels you to answer. Steve’s face appears on your screen, an apologetic smile painting his face. The last you heard, the Avengers were following a lead on Ultron before going dark.

“Steve! Are you okay?”

He peers around him. You can make out a sunny window, rustic decor…is that a child’s toy?

“I can’t stay for long,” he says. “But–yes. We’ll…figure it out.”

He sees the concern on your face, and he knows what you’re about to say:

“What can I do?”

“Lay low,” he says, almost immediately, recalling how Ultron nearly ended your life with Stark’s god-awful furniture. “Keep yourself safe.”

You rub your temples. It’s as if you’re being dragged back to SHIELD’s dissolution, hurtled into a life of mystery and solitude that you hadn’t asked for.

You see a wave of red as Nat pushes her head in between Steve and the camera.

“At least five bad language words since we got here, agent,” she says. You laugh, already picturing the look Steve is giving her behind her curtain of curls. “Wish you were here.”

“Me too.”

Steve watches her walk off, and then waits a few moments longer.

“I saw her,” he tells you, his face dropping all signs of amusement.

You shake your head, trying to piece together what Steve wants to tell you.

“She said the war was over, that we could go home,” he continues. “Then I was back, here. On the ground. Alone.”

“You’re not alone, Steve,” you insist.

But he doesn’t quite hear you.

⋆⋆⋆

Steve scoots into the booth, unbuttoning his black suit jacket. You take the seat right beside him. He lets out a subdued sniff and asks you how the convention went.

“I know the world needs you to be big and strong,” you tell him, “but I don’t.”

You open your arms, and he chuckles before resting his head on your shoulder. You envelop him in a hug, rubbing his back.

“Never ask me about those boring fucking conventions again,” you murmur, feeling his tears fall onto the shoulder of your blouse. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Steve.”

Steve fishes around his pocket and brings out his compass. At the press of a button, it opens, revealing a photograph of Peggy. She looked breathtaking, with her strong jawline, perfect curls, and fierce gaze. Steve hesitates, then passes the device to you. You move your arm from Steve to hold the memento with both hands. You run your finger over the photo’s fading edges.

“And she liked you?” you jest to cover the emotions that are running through you. Why are tears prickling your eyes?

“Once,” Steve responds with a chuckle as you pass him back his most prized possession, “a long time ago.”

He sits up, stiffening. Before you can question the change of demeanor, he confesses, “I…can’t sign the Accords.”

You give him a faint smile, as if it hasn’t been the topic of discussion at the Madrid convention. You were more than happy to meet him in London, especially if it meant getting away from chatty politicians with pesky questions.

“I know, Steve,” you say, holding his face in your hands. You run your thumb down his cheek, erasing a drying line of tears. You ignore how the air leaves your lungs as Steve’s eyes flutter closed and he leans into your touch. “I know.”

⋆⋆⋆

“You’re too good to be down here, agent.”

Sharon pauses her scribbling to punctuate her sentence with a smile.

“You know this is where I like it,” you tell her from the other side of the bulletproof panel. Sharon slides the sign-out sheet back to you. You stifle a laugh as you read that Go Fuck Yourself has signed out two quantities of kiss my ass. Right before you buzz her into weapons lockup, she stops you.

“Wait,” she says abruptly, startling you. “Are you sure?”

Since the day you took him to the boxing gym, you have become Steve’s safe place. In times of need, on the run with Nat or holed up in Clint’s home, he desperately wished you were there. Never mind the comforting touch or the distracting joke, just your presence beside him was enough to turn the weight of the world into a bag of feathers.

Now, Steve has called in a favor. Get the shield and the wings to Sharon, and she’ll cover the rest. No big deal, just betray the federal entity you work for and be indefinitely on the lam. Run, and don’t take any chances.

“Never been more sure in my life.”

You press the button harder than you need to, and the door swings open. Sharon steps through, taking in the towering rows of weapons.

“Whoa,” she says. The massive basement room was the perfect place to house all of the CIA’s most dangerous arms, including Captain America’s shield and the Falcon’s wings.

You lead Sharon through shelves of alien technology and massive guns.

“Might’ve been less sure if I had a metal hand punching me into the wall, though,” you say, looking back at her as she tries to rub out the pain in her back.

She snorts and shakes her head. “I’m glad you were far away from that mess,” she says earnestly.

“Didn’t really have a choice. When we went into lockdown, I was shut in.”

You shudder as you remember the weapons rooms’ light cutting out suddenly, plunging you into darkness. An agent had announced a code red over the walkie, and you sprinted towards the door–just in time to watch the metal gates slam down. You had pounded on the metal, desperate to escape. Your gut told you what–or rather, who–played a role in the Code Red.

You grunt as you pull on the box. It falls to the floor with less grace than you hoped, and Sharon tugs it open. She lights up at the sight of the vibranium shield, her smile wide and her eyes bright. She catches your eye and immediately drops her smile.

With a shake of her head, she apologizes and says, “Um…thank you.”

⋆⋆⋆

“West entrance, thirty seconds,” Nat tells you. You hear her tapping on her keyboard, and the doors in front of you hiss open. You creep quietly into the darkness of the Raft corridor, with Steve following closely behind.

Steve presses his fingers to his ear. “We’re in.”

“Wait for my signal,” Nat murmurs. “You have three minutes to take down the guards, then about five minutes after that before their backup arrives.”

“Eight minutes?” you say incredulously. “Steve, she thinks we’re amateurs.”

Nat snickers from the comforts of the Quinjet. “Just know, if you get caught, I’ll sleep soundly knowing I left both of your asses behind.”

You feign a horrified gasp. “Steve! Cover your ears!”

You don’t have to see him to know Steve is currently tilting his head in disbelief.

Nat cuts off any retort he might have had: “And now.”

You and Steve move in unison. He takes a boot to the door, and you spare no time to fire a hailstorm of bullets into the room. Your attack disarms several guards and destroys the audiovisual equipment. Steve tosses his shield around the room, and it bounces off the remaining guards, knocking them to their feet.

You place your foot on a guard’s chest, nodding at Steve.

“I’ll keep them here.”

The captain disappears into the cell block. You can hear the distant sounds of Steve breaking through jail bars, followed by triumphant cheers and joyous reunions.

Your earpiece crackles; Nat is switching you both to a different channel.

“Now’s as good a time as any,” she tells you.

You stare past the doorway, not quite sure how to respond. She continues: “We don’t know when we’ll see each other again. We’re fugitives now.”

A few minutes later, Steve reappears, a proud smile on his face.

“They’re headed to the jet,” he says. “We did it.”

You force a smile back at him as he leads you out of the room. His arm extends to your waist and you hold your breath; but, he continues reaching until he can close the door behind you and break off the doorknob. As he pulls away, you capture your hand in his. You love the way he laces his fingers between yours, almost reflexively.

“Steve…”

We don’t know when we’ll see each other again.

His eyebrows scrunch in concern. Were you injured? Did a guard send out an emergency signal? But your expression tells a different story; his cool blue eyes could bore holes into your skull. You can only stammer, so Steve speaks instead.

“Wherever you go,” he says, unlacing his hands to instead place it on your cheek, “I can always be there. You just say the word.”

You close your eyes. You won’t know when you’ll see him again, and you lean into his touch, pressing his hand harder into your cheek.

“Two minutes,” Nat’s voice, barely audible, comes over your earpieces.

Steve pulls you into a hug.

“Check in. Stay close. Don’t take any chances,” he whispers.

How could you? The biggest chance you could’ve taken just slipped through your fingers.

⋆⋆⋆

“Oh my god! Thor?!”

Steve practically scoffs, scratching at his beard.

“I’m good, thanks,” he says. “How are you?”

“As good as I could be,” you say. You look around the feeble apartment, a micro-studio with a bed and a kitchenette. You landed in Shanghai after abandoning post, figuring one of the most populous cities in the world would be the perfect place to go into hiding.

Steve doesn’t seem to like that answer.

“I’m so sorry.”

“That a grown woman made a decision?” you scoff. “Sure, I forgive you, then.”

You raise a chuckle from him, and he feels that familiar sensation of relief and comfort at the sound of your voice. Steve made you a vagabond, but you held on tight to your favorite title of smartass.

“How about you?” you say. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” he says, pushing long strands of hair away from his face.

“You with Sam? Nat?”

“Nearby.”

“Bucky?”

“With a friend.”

You blow through your lips.

“Sharon?” You say your friend’s name as if it were a throwaway line.

Steve squints at you through the screen, and you shift uncomfortably on your mattress. Your eyes dart everywhere–anywhere but your phone–while you wait for his response.

“No,” he answers. “No idea where she is.”

You purse your lips. You weren’t sure what you wanted to hear, and you feel an odd mixture of happy and sad all at once.

“Are you just checking in?” Steve wonders. “Or–?”

“Yeah,” you quickly answer. “Checking in.”

Silence settles for a few moments, before Steve tells you: “I wish you were here.”

You give him a measly “me too” and a sad smile.

“Soon?” you offer, though it’s the emptiest promise you’ve ever given.

“Soon,” is his response, the biggest lie he’s ever told.

⋆⋆⋆

You promptly withdraw your pocket pistol, peering around the corner. You knew it wouldn’t be long until the CIA found you, but, damn, you just got to Cape Town. With your finger on the trigger, you step out of your hiding spot…

…and are greeted by familiar blue eyes.

“You said stay close, right?” Steve says with a smile.

You call for him breathlessly. Your body suddenly feels like jello and your knees threaten to buckle underneath you. Your gun nearly slips from your grasp as you run forward, right into Steve’s welcoming arms. He locks you in a tight embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck and inhaling deeply. You feel your feet leave the ground as Steve lifts you, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to burst into tears.

With only the occasional video call being your only form of communication, you’ve nearly forgotten what Steve looks like from the shoulders down. When he puts you down, you hold him at arm’s length and stare, as if you’re trying to commit him to memory.

“Steve,” you say his name again, still reeling from the fact that he’s here, he’s really here. You shake your head vigorously. “You can’t be here–it’s too dangerous–”

“It’s okay,” he assures you. “I couldn’t go without you.”

“Go where?”

⋆⋆⋆

You squeeze your eyes shut as the aircraft passes through the translucent panels. When you open your eyes, the panels are behind you. The warrior piloting the plane smiles at your shock.

Steve watches you the whole time, captured by the sense of wonder painted on your face. He reaches over to squeeze your shoulder.

“Welcome to Wakanda.”

A small welcoming committee smiles brightly as you and Steve step off of the aircraft. Steve goes straight to a man with a bun, while the other two approach you.

“Greetings, agent,” the king greets you. “I am–”

“King T’Challa,” you say, meeting his handshake with fervency. “Your highness, it’s an honor.”

“The honor is all mine,” T’Challa responds with a smile. He gestures to the younger woman beside him. “And this is Princess Shuri, my sister.”

“Princess,” you greet. You reach your hand out, but quickly shift into a fist bump as Shuri reaches out a closed fist.

“Agent,” she responds with a grin. “I hope you will find your stay enjoyable.”

“Are you kidding me?” you say, then realizing you’re speaking much too casually for royalty. “I mean–the plane ride was easily the most luxurious experience of my life. I’m not sure how you’ll get me to leave.” Shuri’s grin spreads wider.

“I apologize, but we must be going,” T’Challa says. “But you have everything that you need, I assure you.”

You peer over at Steve, who grips the brunette’s shoulder as he laughs.

“And if you don’t,” Shuri calls as she and her brother take their leave, “you can ask any of the bald, mean-looking women.”

“Shuri!”

“They’re the Dora Milaje,” the man beside Steve explains as they approach you, “Wakanda’s elite warriors.”

Steve chest swells with pride as he introduces, “This is Bucky. My best friend.”

Bucky’s shakes your hand. He doesn’t wait for you to introduce yourself, instead saying your name to you.

“Heard a lot,” Bucky says with a smile. You glance at Steve, surprised that you’ve been a topic of discussion for the two.

“All good things,” Steve says, grinning at his best friend.

“Oh, great things,” Bucky adds assuredly as you feel your ears burning.

⋆⋆⋆

Ayo, one of the warriors, spares a few moments to meet you and Steve. She stands solemnly as you sit on the grass, your palms rested behind you.

“Bucky is, um…?” You’re not quite sure how to ask if the man is still capable of snapping your neck without an ounce of regret.

“We are working on it,” she says, keeping her eyes forward. You follow her gaze, watching as a group of children do and redo the best friends’ hair. Steve’s hair is first in a high ponytail, then two low buns. He catches your eye and waves, a wide grin on his face. You wave back as he and Bucky laugh at each other’s hairstyles.

Ayo follows Steve’s gaze back to you.

“We had arranged two bedrooms…”

You sit up straight with wide eyes.

“Th- And that’s totally fine.”

“It is no issue.”

Ayo walks away as Steve chases some of the children, feigning fatigue as they run away giggling.

“It’s a good look for him,” Bucky comments. Bucky is eyeing the three ponytails on top of his best friend’s head, but you’re taking in the sight of Steve consoling a child who has fallen. He gestures elaborately, as if casting a magic spell on the scrape. The child laughs and runs away, instantly remedied.

“It is,” you murmur.

You feel Bucky’s eyes on you, and you clear your throat. “Was–Was he like this before, too?”

Bucky cheeks puff as he releases an exaggerated exhale. “Hell no.”

“No?”

“Worse, so much worse. Insufferable, really.”

Steve jogs up to you. “They call you White Wolf, Buck? Do we all get nicknames?”

“Maybe,” Bucky says with a shrug. “You could be…”

“White Man,” you offer, earning a disbelieving look from Steve and a hearty laugh from Bucky.

“Or,” Bucky says, “I can tell them that Peggy called you–”

Steve shoves his friend, earning another laugh from the brunette.

⋆⋆⋆

Steve leans his forearm against the window. Below, the city lights dance, bright glimmers against an otherwise dark night.

“It’s good for him here,” he tells you with a smile on his lips.

“Wakanda looks good on you, too,” you say. The bed shifts as you stand up, joining Steve at the window. Wakanda is absolutely beautiful, and you understand why the country is hidden away from the rest of the world. “Maybe you should stay here.”

“Maybe we should,” he suggests, “but clearly their space is limited.”

You and Steve peer back at the singular bed that occupies the room.

“I told Ayo–”

“And I told Bucky–”

“It’s no big deal, right?”

“Right,” Steve says, mirroring your doubtful tone.

You both gingerly approach, like two idiots who have never seen a bed before. He cautiously approaches one side while you approach the other, slipping in and leaving as much space between you as possible. Steve scoots closer ever so slightly, but grabs a pillow, fluffing it and placing it between you two.

You and Steve spend a few minutes staring at the ceiling until your eyes form warped images in the darkness. Eventually, he sighs. You turn to ask him what’s wrong, but instead see him take the pillow and toss it across the room.

“Fuck it,” he murmurs, pulling you into his muscled chest.

“Language,” you mutter. But your eyelids already feel droopy as sleep pulls you under. Tonight, sleep smells like sandalwood and feels like heaven. Tonight, your dreams are blonde wisps and bright eyes that threaten to pull you into the ocean deep.

⋆⋆⋆

Steve is just broad shoulders and sullen disposition from your spot in the darkness.

“...Tony Stark, also known as the hero Iron Man, has been reported missing…”

“Get your things, Steve,” you say, stepping out from the shadows.

You’re the only thing that can pull Steve away from his racing thoughts. He forces his eyes off the screen, away from the image of a grinning Tony.

“Where are we going?” he says as you reach out to tug on his shoulder, a silent urge to gather his things. His hand finds a home over yours, holding it in place.

“Edinburgh.”

⋆⋆⋆

You start the search again, maybe the fifteenth time in the past five minutes.

The bar slowly fills up, reaching one hundred percent…

No results found.

“Nothing, Steve,” you tell him, your voice hoarse. Thanos might as well have vanished.

The captain is still for a moment before his hand comes down on the console table. After the glass breaks and the books clatter, you can only hear Steve’s deep breaths as he tries to calm himself. He takes long strides towards the door.

No results found.

“Steve–don’t take any chances. We’ll find him,” you say pleadingly. “He knows we’ll find him.”

As Steve mourned Bucky back in 1944, he wished he had something to bury. A final home for his best friend. A meeting place for him to visit. Something, anything to remember him by. Now he has his ashes, and he realizes how stupid he was to think it would bring him any relief.

No results found.

“Then he should be here to tell me himself.”

You flinch as the door slams shut behind him.

⋆⋆⋆

You pull a brown plaid shirt from Steve’s closet. You hold it up to his frame.

“I should’ve told you this eleven years ago,” you say as you pull the shirt off its hanger, “but you should really size up.”

He chuckles as he takes the shirt from you, slipping it through his arms. You begin to button the shirt as Steve looks on through the mirror. These days, he’s not quite sure who it is looking back at him.

“I don’t know what to tell them,” he says. If he wasn’t so numb, he might feel anxious. His stomach may have flipped at the thought of the support group sitting in a melancholic circle, staring at him, waiting for his words of wisdom.

You give him a sad smile, adjusting the collar of his shirt. He captures your hands in his before you can pull away.

“Tell them what you told me,” you say, and your hands slowly slip from his grasp. “About Peggy.” You give one final tug on his shirt before sending him on his way.

⋆⋆⋆

Steve looks anxious at your weekly dinner. He pushes around the contents of his plate without taking a single bite. You watch him, waiting for him to speak. When nothing ever comes, you ask him yourself. He drops his fork, finally stopping his nervous assault on his sliced carrots. He can’t stop thinking of Scott Lang, waving at him from the security cameras.

“What have you heard about…time travel?”

⋆⋆⋆

“Buck, can I…talk to you?”

Steve’s hesitant question causes you to put down the bandage. You’re not quite sure why Steve called you to the compound at this hour, and you’re even more unsure of why he was nowhere to be found while you made yourself comfortable in the kitchen. You feel lucky enough that Bucky made his way down, looking for something to sterilize his wounds. Usually, you would kill time talking to Nat, but–

“Sure,” Bucky answers. He gives you an unreadable look as he disappears with Steve into his room. You keep yourself busy, cleaning up the used medical supplies, until the super soldiers reappear. You see Bucky’s jaw clench ever so slightly; otherwise, he is nearly expressionless. He approaches you, nodding towards Steve. You slip off of the kitchen counter stool and Steve places his hand on your lower back, leading you into his room.

His room in the compound is nearly bare, save for what Tony has furnished himself. Not even the record player that he proudly found years ago, the only possession in his former SHIELD apartment.

You sit at the edge of Steve’s bed while he moves his armchair and plants himself in front of you. He takes your hands in his, leans forward, and stares earnestly into your eyes.

“Steve?” You can’t ignore the feeling churning in your gut.

“You have been so good to me,” he begins. The inner parts of his eyebrows raise up in sincerity. “And I just want to say thank you.”

“You’re…welcome,” you say, a quip getting lost in your confusion.

“Tomorrow, I return the infinity stones.”

You nod. You knew that. He knew you knew that.

“And…I’m not coming back.”

You let out a wry chuckle. “Don’t worry,” you say, finding your voice suddenly hoarse. “You know Dr. Banner will make sure–”

“The last stone I have to return is in 1949,” he explains. Are you shaking your head at him? Is your entire body quaking? You’re not quite sure. “And I’m going to stay.”

I love you, Steve.

I love you so goddamn much.

I’ve loved you from that moment you sat in Fury’s stupid, flimsy chair.

I’ve loved you since you looked at me like I was your entire world, all because I took you to the worst gym in New York.

I’ve loved you in every moment, in every iteration, in every semblance of you.

And Steve Rogers, I know you love me, too.

You want to reach for Steve’s hand, but you’re frozen, and your clammy hands stay rooted in your lap. You give him a smile that you hope looks genuine.

“You had a date.”

⋆⋆⋆

You leave Steve behind in his room, insisting he didn’t need to walk you out. Insisting you didn’t need to spend the night, or ask any more questions.

Bucky leans against the kitchen counter, unmoving. You move to stand beside him.

“He can’t,” you whisper as you approach. Your fists are clenched so tightly that you’re nearly drawing blood.

“He made his choice,” Bucky responds. He matches your hushed volume, but his collected tone contrasts your panicked timbre.

“He can’t,” you say again. Maybe he didn’t hear you correctly.

“It’s his life,” Bucky tells you, in the same even voice.

“He can’t.” Your knees can’t hold you anymore. You’re falling, and Bucky catches your wrists in an effort to keep you from slumping to the ground.

You fight against his grip. You find the sides of your fists beating against his chest. Bucky falls with you. His cold eyes stare ahead, into the darkness beyond the compound. Your tears are hot, pouring onto your face like streams of lava.

He can’t

⋆⋆⋆

“Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.”

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

You watch the best friends pull each other into an embrace. Bucky’s smile doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

Steve turns to you, and your bitter frown turns into a painted smile. His muscled arms pull you into a hug next.

“Check in,” he says.

“Stay close,” you respond, closing your eyes and breathing him in. Your eyes squeeze shut as you pull him into a tighter embrace. When you release, Steve flicks away a stray tear from your face.

“Don’t take any chances.” He lingers a moment too long with his hands pressed against your jawline, his eyes searching for something unknown in your expression. Eventually, all too soon, he steps into Dr. Banner’s machine. At the press of a button, he’s gone.

Bruce counts down, preparing his machine for Steve’s return, one that you know won’t ever happen. Eventually, beside you, he and Sam break into a frenzied argument, but somehow they sound so far away.

“Sam.”

Bucky’s sharp voice draws the attention of the three of you. You follow Bucky’s gaze to an elderly man sitting on a bench. You can only see the back of his head, but you gasp.

Your feet are carrying towards the man, right alongside Sam and Bucky.

You can feel Sam’s perplexed gaze shift from you to Bucky.

“Go ahead,” Bucky urges.

You feel like you’re watching from miles away as Sam slowly approaches the captain. Every heartbeat feels like your heart is sinking further down into your stomach, and you force yourself to walk away. As soon as your back is turned, the tears flow freely. You stifle your sobs, disappearing behind a tree, out of sight from the other four heroes.

Bucky keeps his smile as he watches the astonished Sam receive the shield, just as he and Steve discussed. He sees the journey ahead for Sam, the man with a future yet to forge.

He glances back, seeing only a portion of you behind a tree trunk, heaving with the weight of your burdened cries. His heart aches for you, a lifetime of possibilities turned into memories of the past. The light at the end of the tunnel was simply a mirage for the woman left behind.

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derwahnsinn · 8 months

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31 Days Idol Challenge - Oliver Riedel

Day 17 - On Knees

Oliver has been on his knees many times, he often kneels during concerts. One of my favourite moments, apart from the Puppe outro dance, is when he does his little "prayer" at the start of Sehnsucht. He did it in Helsinki facing forward, but since he doesn't do it that often, I finally managed to catch it again in the second Brussels concert, when he did it sideways facing Schneider instead.

I love Sehnsucht live, and the intro is fantastic. Needless to say, when Oliver decides to treat the audience like this, it's even better. This is my video from 04.08.2023, unfortunately, the person to my right threw their hand in front of my camera, so the video goes out of focus for a few seconds. Please don't share in other social media, and please credit if you use it for anything.

Bonus material: 1-2) MIG Tour with Frau Schneider was in many way peak kneeling era. I don't know who made the gifs. 3) Oliver crawling, by Manon Daughan. 4) Oliver kneeling by Flake's keyboards, by Patryk Pigeon. 5) Oliver kneeling in the boat, unknown photographer. 6) Oliver kneeling on B-stage, unknown photographer. 7) Young Oliver kneeling in leather pants, by Rammsteinlive. 8) Oliver kneeling on B-stage, unknown photographer. 9) Oliver kneeling in Berlin, by me.

Others doing this challenge:

Till: @endlich-allein Flake: @anwiel13 Paul: @instillennachten

#Rammstein 31 Days Idol Challenge #Oliver Riedel #Rammstein #Oliver On Knees #Rammstein 31 Days Idol Challenge - Oliver #My video #My photo

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maddieautobot273 · 6 months

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Silk & Cologne (43)

A Miguel O'hara x OC Series - Link to AO3 (X)

Chapter 43 - Leap - previous chapter (X)

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x Female OC

Words: 4.7K+ words

Warning: PG - jumping off buildings, free falling, parkouring, brief sad backstory

Summary: Miguel takes Lisa on a tour of Nueva York

///////

When I arrived in Earth 928 at the Spider-Society headquarters, I was greeted by the charming smiles of both of the O’Hara brothers. Gabriel’s smile was playful and cherry as he tossed me a flirty wink and quip. Miguel rolled his eyes at his brother, elbowing him in the shoulder, and after recovering from his protective tantrum, his smile returned as he handed me a container of food.

I respected Miguel’s wishes in keeping our relationship professional while at HQ. But that wouldn’t stop me from showing him my appreciation after realizing how hungry I was after rehearsal was extended for over an hour. I looked around to make sure the three of us were the only ones in the area before standing up on my toes to peck Miguel’s cheek with a quick kiss.

“Thank you, Migs,” I smiled sweetly at him before I dug into my meal.

His cheeks had flushed, the kiss surprisingly catching him by surprise as the three of us walked down the hall. Miguel gave me a look as he raised a hand to his cheek, his fingertips brushing along the spot where I had left my token of affection.

I felt his stare as I swallowed my bite of food before looking up at him. “What? I made sure no one was looking,” I offered him a teasing smirk.

Miguel huffed, his chest puffing as he tried and failed to hold back a chuckle. “That you did,” He shook his head. “Already looking for a way to bend the rules are you?”

“What can I say?” I shrugged as I snuck in another bite. “You have that effect on me,”

“You two are just adorable,” Gabriel cooed.

Miguel immediately shot Gabriel a look, his gaze piercing his very soul. “Gabri–!”

“I know, I know, I didn’t see nothing,” Gabriel rose his hands in surrender, “But Lyla see’s all,”

“That she does!” The AI herself momentarily appeared at Gabriel’s side, patting his head lovingly before vanishing.

I made small talk with Gabriel as we walked, partially because I felt bad about Miguel scolding him. Sure they were brothers and they could get on each other's nerves almost 24/7, but wouldn’t it hurt to have a conversation without at least one joke or nitpick towards one another? Again, I am an only child, and if this is some form of showing sibling love and affection, I wouldn’t know.

As we walked through the hall and passed the occasional patrol unit, I felt almost naked walking around the Society in my normal clothes. It was like waking up here all over again. I couldn’t believe everything had happened in just over a month. It certainly didn’t feel like that, in fact, I wouldn’t have been surprised if it was actually longer.

I finished my dinner by the time we arrived at Gabriel’s workshop. Hovering on the same platform where I had stood before to get my old suit upgraded, was my new and improved suit. It looked the same as before, but with better stitching it seemed and fresh fabric and spandex. My eyes sparked, my lips curling into a smile as I approached the platform, the food container long forgotten.

“This looks amazing!” I beamed before turning back to the brothers. “It’s like it never left,”

“And there’s hoping it stays that way,” Miguel gently teased me, hands behind his back as he approached me, “But that’s not your suit,”

“Eh?” I raise a brow at Miguel. “What are you talking about? That’s my suit,”

“It’s one of your suits. This suit you can use for your show, yes,” Gabriel clarified as he walked over to his console, pressing a few buttons as a compartment opened up and he pulled out a chip. He held it up with a proud smile, “Now this on the other hand is your actual suit, should you want it”

“Huh?” Now I was majorly confused as I exchanged a look between the two brothers.

“Big brother, do the honors,” Gabriel smirked as he tossed the chip over to Miguel.

Miguel caught it in his large hand, controlling his strength to not crush the little device with his fingers. He stepped closer to me, gently taking my wrist as he installed it into my gizmo. I watched his fingers closely, entranced by their movements.

Miguel’s eyes glanced over my face, a soft smile on his face, “It was my idea,” He spoke before taking a step back. “Give it a try,”

I glanced down at my Gizmo, seeing a new feature light up on the screen. I pressed the button and the gizmo lit up briefly in recognition before some form of hard light washed over my body. I gasped, startled as I stood back and shut my eyes. I didn’t feel any pain, or felt any different for that matter.

“Lisa, it’s alright,” Miguel reassured me gently as I felt his hands engulf mine, lowering my hands from my face. “Take a look,”

I glanced down at myself and nearly stopped breathing. It was my suit. It was on my body.

I was at a loss for words as I examined myself, taking in every inch of me as I turned and moved around. “I don’t– How?!”

“Holographic Nano-Technology,” Miguel answered me with a knowing smile. I watched as he flicked his wrist and his left sleeve of his suit suddenly dematerialized, snaking up his arm to show off his muscled tone forearm and bicep. “Look familiar now?”

I tried not to blush as I noticed the slight tufts of body hair along his arm. I tried not to make it obvious that I was staring at his flexing muscle, but it was hard when he was clearly doing it on purpose to make me look.

My eyes widened at the realization as I pointed at him. “It works just like yours!”

“Exactly, however the difference between ours, I have sensors implanted in my body allowing me to telepathically trigger the suit on command, should the need arise,” He explained before casting me a reassuring look. “Don’t worry, I opted for yours to be the less painful method,”

“Now you don’t have to worry about running back to your apartment to grab your suit before coming here, or worrying about your friends or family accidentally finding it,” Gabriel crossed his arms, giving me an almost teasing glance. “Or villains and their cronies stealing it,”

My eyes flared as I glared over at Miguel. “You told him?”

“I had to give him a valid reason to go through with the idea,” Miguel rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“His original idea of you two matching was enough, but I toyed with him and said that it wasn’t enough to convince me,” Gabriel grinned.

“Hey!” Miguel’s nostrils flared as he gave Gabriel a pointed look.

I could see the look in Miguel’s eyes, knowing he could be seconds away for murdering his brother for outing him like that. I quickly stepped between them, placing a steady hand on Miguel’s chest. “I think it’s a really cool idea, Miguel, I appreciate you thinking about me,”

Miguel’s face softened as he looked down at me, his muscles relaxing as he lowered his arms. There was a sound from behind me as Gabriel had coughed in his hand before motioning for me to continue, obviously waiting for his turn of praise. I offered him a knowing smirk, though my eyes spoke genuine appreciation.

“You too, Gabriel, thank you for fixing up my suit, again,” I chuckled softly.

Gabriel smirked, offering me a gracious bow. “If my work is done, I’ll leave you to it,”

Miguel rolled his eyes at his brother before offering him a nod of gratitude as he left. “So, how does it feel?” He glanced down at me.

I quickly realized my hand was still on his chest, and while I normally would have blushed like a tomato at the gesture, I managed to keep myself calm enough to the point I wouldn’t faint as I pulled away and took a moment to look at myself in the suit again. “I think I’ll need to go on that test drive before I make a decision,”

“Is that so?” Miguel purred gently as a grin curled on his lips, arms crossing over his chest.

“Well, I was promised a tour of Nueva York, wasn’t I?” I reminded him casually, hands behind my back.

“That you were,” Miguel nodded before offering me his arm. “I always keep my promises, smart girl,”

///////

Before we left, I changed out of my clothes, keeping my underclothes on, before equipping my new spider suit in order to get the full experience of its potential. It was Miguel’s suggestion, based on his own experience fighting crime in a holographic suit.

“What do you usually wear under your suit, Miguel?” I asked him with a genuine expression. “Like anything with a specific material or fabric that helps make. . . things more comfortable?”

“Wait, you’re asking me?” Miguel looked at me, eyes widened in surprise.

“Well, I mean, you’re one of the first Spider-People I met and first started teaching me the ropes,” My cheeks flushed at his reaction as I caressed my arm nervously. “I was just wondering if you could give me pointers is all,”

Miguel placed his hands on his hips as he glanced over to the side, the gears in his head turning. “Other than protective padding for well, you know,” He inclined his head down, and I didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to know what he was referring to. “I. . . I don’t wear anything,”

I could see the flush on his cheeks darken as his voice went quiet and in the split second it took me to realize what he had meant, his face turned completely red, matching with my own. “You mean you go commando?” I found myself saying aloud.

“Lisa–!” His face was almost as red as a tomato, taken back at my forward question. He brushed a hand through his hair before snaking back to rub the back of his neck. “I– well, yeah. . .”

“Oh. . .” my cheeks flushed a shade darker as I shuffled my feet, glancing at the floor for a moment before slowly getting the courage to look back at him. “Are you. . .?”

Miguel sighed, bringing his hand around to cover his mouth in an attempt to hide his blush. He shakes his head as a soft, low chuckle escapes his lips as he lowered his hand. “Am I commando right now?”

He said it for me. I nodded, almost afraid to say the words aloud.

Miguel takes a deep breath before meeting my gaze. “I am,” he answered honestly before taking a careful step closer towards me. “Does that make you feel uncomfortable, Mona?”

I gawk at his question, fumbling nervously, “Oh! No, no, I’m okay. I mean, you do whatever makes you more comfortable. You guys wear the suits all the time, right? Do what you gotta do,”

“So you’re fine with it?” He asked me, raising a brow in my direction.

Now that I got a good look at him, and seeing the outlines of his muscles, his chest, the abs, his back, and the. . . competition to ‘America’s Ass’. His suit left nothing to the imagination. Miguel really wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

My heart started pounding in my chest, palms sweating, and butterflies fluttered in my stomach.

He’s been commando this whole time that I’ve known him in the suit?!

Am I fine with this?

“Yeah! Totally fine,” I nodded almost too eagerly, brushing off his worry. “I’ll take a note on the padding,”

We stood on the private balcony coming out from Miguel’s private elevator that overlooked the city. The sun had already set and the bright neon city lights were taking form like stars across the skyscrapers and street lamps. They looked like small specs from where we were.

Miguel glanced over, caressing a steady hand on my shoulder. “You ready?”

“Wait, you want to leave from up here?” I asked him, whipping my head to look at him.

“I think it’s the most scenic route into the city,” Miguel offered me a kind smile as he began walking towards the edge, turning to face me. “I promised you a tour after all,”

“I’ve never done a leap this high before,” I cautiously followed after him, the hairs on my neck and arms tingling as I glanced down to the city below, “Not even during training here at HQ,”

“That’s all it is, Lisa,” Miguel reassured me with a gentle look. “A leap of faith,”

Something about those words struck a chord in me as I watched Miguel standing up on the railing of the balcony. Miguel offered me his hand and with an anxious tremble, I took it and he helped me up to stand beside him. The wind was beginning to pick up as Miguel’s mask materialized over his face, his eyelets widening as he looked over at me. “I’ll be here to catch you if you need me,”

The next thing I knew, he jumped, taking a swan dive off the balcony towards the city surface. I couldn’t help but stare as I watched him fall. In another life, maybe he could have been an olympic diver or swimmer. Then again, this is the multiverse, so perhaps there was a dimension somewhere where that was in fact a reality.

Okay, now I’m just rambling to stall myself from jumping, come on, Lisa!

After scolding myself to toughen up, I took a deep breath, flexing and wiggling my fingers to ease my nerves and to somehow manifest my hands to stop sweating. I repeated Miguel’s words in my head, over and over again. I took one more look at the city below me before closing my eyes.

I jumped.

The felt the wind first, blowing through my hair and against my body as I began free falling towards the city. My body front flipped and swayed as I basked in the thrill, my heart pounding so hard in my chest I thought it would burst and soar away. The bright lights drew closer and bigger.

I was beginning to understand skydivers a bit better now. This was exhilarating!

Okay, wait for it. . . Now!

I fired a web sling at the building closest to my location. I watch as the web connects and my fingers grip around the sling and I find myself swinging over a highway, just high enough to avoid the traffic of hover cars. I let go and fired another web sling, swinging again.

I was doing it! I was web slinging through the city!

As I swung, I took a moment to glance around. Nueva York’s skyscrapers and buildings were sleek and definitely screamed future. Literally every building I saw was made with white metal plating and glass, and their lights were as bright as christmas lights. Holographic projects of brand advertisements, TV promos could be seen on every other block, and their parks and areas where there were green were kept clean and surprisingly organized and well kept.

I couldn’t help myself as a joyful laugh escaped my lips as I swung around a corner, attempting a mid air barrel roll before firing another web sling. When there’s no villains or anomalies to worry about, this was so much fun!

“Look at you!” Miguel’s voice rang through the air as he swung to my side, appearing from a different corner. He must have hung back and watched me to allow me to get my bearings first. “I knew you could do it, I’m so proud of you,”

“Really?” My voice cracked through the wind as the eyelets of my mask widened from his praise.

“I mean it, Mona Lisa,” I could hear Miguel’s smile through his mask. “Now, let’s start that tour. Follow me,”

Miguel led the way as he showed me around the city. From what I could gather during my time in my dimension’s New York, it looked like a lot of the streets and locations were roughly the same in both dimensions. Though there were subtle differences between the two, giving Nueva York its own charm.

Miguel showed me Central Park, which I thought was prettier than the one back home. They had a giant holographic chess board where you could control the pieces with digital remotes. We snuck in a quick game before heading over to the Rockefeller Center where their ice rink was kept frozen year round, and after taking a quick break to grab a snack from a place called ‘Tony’s’, I could just barely make out the statue of liberty.

The two of us swung up and touched down on the roof of a build, taking a moment to catch our breath. I shook my arms, loosening the joints as my muscles started to ache from the swinging. I glanced over towards Miguel, “Okay, I can admit it, Nueva York looks so much cooler than my New York,”

“Now, now, this isn’t a competition,” Miguel shook his head, chuckling quietly as he neared me.

“But if it was, you’d win?” I asked him with a knowing look.

“Oh absolutely,” I could practically hear the grin on his face as he placed his hands on his hips.

I laughed at his comment as I looked at his suit, my gaze shifting down and up. Felt nothing to the imagination indeed. I could feel the chill from the wind as it flew through my hair, glancing around. “What’s here?”

“See that building over there?” Miguel pointed, “The one with the ivory plating?”

I followed his direction to see that exact building. It was one of the few buildings I saw that didn’t have the go to white futuristic aesthetic. “Yeah?”

“That is Babylon Towers,” Miguel explained, his voice suddenly turning soft, “It was my home. . . with Xina,”

The eyelets of my mask widened as I glanced over at him. I noticed his shoulders had relaxed, but kept up a straight, hardened stance that showed off his powerful back as I stepped closer to him.

“It was my first apartment after moving away from Gabriel and our folks. It was there where I woke up that one morning and realized me getting my powers wasn’t some crazy dream,” He went on, reminiscing, “Xina gave birth to Gabriela right on the living room floor,”

“You’re kidding?!” I gawked at the man.

Miguel chuckled at the memory, shaking his head. “By the time I called the hospital and got her bag ready to go, she was so far dilated, she insisted on having her right there and then. The door man came up and helped me deliver our baby girl right before the paramedics arrived,”

“Wow. . .” I could help but smile. “Xina. . . she sounds awesome,”

“She really was,” Miguel nodded his head in agreement.

“You don’t live there anymore?” I asked him gently, reaching for his hand, silently offering.

He caught my movement by the corner of his eye. He sighed, his large fingers reaching over and grasping my own. “Shortly after she passed away, and then Gabri–” he paused, as if struggling to finish the sentence, “The memories were too much. Some villains had also gotten too close noticing my comings and goings. I sold the apartment to a co-worker of mine, and moved in to my current private residence shortly after to be closer to Alchemax,”

I listened to him attentively, allowing him to finish his explanation before speaking up.

So the Spider-Society Headquarters is in this dimension’s Alchemax building?

“I’m sure that must have been hard,” I spoke gently, my thumb gently rubbing against his hand. “I’m sorry,”

“It took me a while to come to terms with it,” Miguel took a deep breath before glancing over at me, “But I learned to move on,”

We both stood there for a little while, hand in hand as we stared and admired Babylon Towers. It was a beautiful building. Perhaps if I was lucky and had quite a bit more paychecks under my belt, I could upgrade my living space and find something similar back home?

I gently gripped Miguel’s hand together, giving him a soft squeeze before pulling my hand away. “So, any other places you wanted to show me?”

“Unfortunately, Nueva York is so vast, it is physically impossible to show you everything in one night,” Miguel chuckled softly, slowly shaking off the earlier tension. “I’ve pretty much shown you everything I thought you’d like, so we can call it there for the tour. It’s getting late too, I wouldn’t want to keep you up, especially with this new rehearsal schedule you’ve told me about,”

“Ahh, you’re right,” I hissed at the reminder, “I probably should be getting back,”

Tomorrow was a holiday so the studio would only be open for half the day, but Kasey still wanted to use the space to practice after our session was done for the morning.

“The Private Eye is always so nosey,” Miguel grumbled, hindering some personal frustration of his own. “Best to portal home back at HQ,”

Private Eye? Ah, that’s right, they’re this dimension’s version of the New York City Police. Miguel had mentioned them briefly during our visit to the Rockefeller Centre after witnessing them catch some teenagers trying to spray paint the back of the skate rental vendor.

“Sure thing,” I began walking towards the edge of the building, Miguel following close behind me. A small smile curled on my lips as I suddenly reached back, smacking Miguel’s chest before breaking off into a sprint. “Race you there!”

“What– Hey!!” Miguel yelped, staggering back briefly. “Mona, that’s cheating!”

I could hear his heavy footsteps tailing after me as I leapt off the roof and fired a web sling, swinging away from the neighborhood of Babylon Towers. I fired one web sling right after another, swinging across the city as I attempted to retrace my steps back towards Spider-Society HQ. Seeing the brief flare of red light shine against the glass windows of the buildings around me told me that Miguel was close behind me.

“Do you even remember the way back, smart girl?” He called out to me.

“That won’t stop me from trying to beat you there first!” I yelled back.

“Oh, ho, ho, I’d love to see you try!” Miguel boasted with a hearty grin.

Miguel swung ahead of me, jumping on to the side of the building. Using his claws, he climbed up the side before jumping off, propelling himself to take a nosedive. I yelped and was about to reach for him when he suddenly latched his arms out, and red webbing sprang from his armpits, expanding into a glider as he suddenly started flying down the street.

“Now who’s the one that’s cheating!” I yelled after him.

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game!” Miguel barked a laugh. “This race is as good as mine,”

Miguel soares ahead and I was gaining more and more distance from him fast. I needed some sort of edge to catch up to him. I glanced up to see traffic of flying cars driving above us, with a wide enough gap for me to mix into them.

This was an incredibly stupid idea, but I’m doing it anyway.

I web slinged up closer to the traffic before firing a web sling towards the vehicle at the front of the gap. My webbing stuck on to the back bumper, and I hitched a ride, the wind blowing in my face even harder as I practically flew through the air. I climbed up the webbing and then began parkouring across the row of cars.

I jumped and skipped my way across, peering down between the small gaps that revealed the city below us to just barely make out Miguel’s body and his glider. I could see his head whipping around, wondering where I was. Now to catch him by surprise.

I jumped down from the side, firing another web sling to swing me forward to his side. “Hey Miguel!”

I didn’t quite catch what my web sling had latched on to, but as Miguel was turning his body to face me, my own body almost violently whipped around a corner and sent me flying down another street. My vision spiraled as my arms flailed in a panic. “AHH!”

“MONA!”

Miguel’s voice was almost able to snap me out of my trance as the street drew closer and closer to my head. That was until I felt a powerful arm grip around my form as Miguel caught me just in the nick of time and swung us both out of harm's way. My voice was lost to me as I breathed deeply, panting heavily as I clung to Miguel for dear life.

“I got you,” despite how hoarse his voice sounded from his scream, Miguel attempted to soothe me as he swung down the street. “You’re gonna be okay. Try to swing for me okay?”

I glanced over at him, confusing riddling my face before I glanced over and briefly watched the motions of his arms as he fired his own websling from the top of his wrist, swung, and let go. Rinse and repeat. Just like from Peter B.’s lessons.

With a shaking hand, I reached out my right hand and fired my own websling. Miguel and I swung together, going through the motions. Sling, swing, release. Sling swing, release.

Gradually our speed slowed down as Miguel guided us to a small park. Secluded from the hustle and bustle of the city, but a wide enough space to still swing around. Miguel fired one more web sling, his red glowing webs latching on to a large overhanging metal light post while with his other hand, gripped onto my websling.

Under the spotlight, the full moon hovering above in the night sky, our bodies slowly turned around as if we were on a carousel. Our bodies were inches from one another as we met each others gaze through the mask. My cheeks flushed as Miguel seemed to tilt his head down, looking at me closely.

I looked away out of embarrassment. “Thank you for saving me back there,”

“Are you alright?” He asked me gently.

I nodded softly, a gentle hum coursing through my throat.

“Lisa?” Miguel’s voice was a whisper as his hand let go of my websling, and carefully brought it down to cup the side of my face and angle my gaze back to meet his.

Something triggered in the HUD display of my mask. An infrared line ripped across the screen and suddenly I could see Miguel’s face through the mask. My pupils dilated at the sight as I caught the concerned look on his face.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” I apologized.

“I supposed we were both a little eager in our competition,” He smiled softly, his thumb brushing against my cheek through the mask. “But this gives me an idea,”

I raised a brow at him and I slowly began to realize that maybe his suit had that same feature as mine and he was able to see my face as well. His soft smile morphed into a playful grin as his fingers slowly began to pull up my mask, just enough to reveal my lips to the cool night air.

“What kind of idea?” My voice was breathless as I spoke.

Even as Miguel’s thumb gently brushed against my bottom lip and made my knees buckle.

“Our own Spider-Man kiss,” He grinned.

Part of his mask vanished, revealing his chiseled chin, cheekbones and puffed lips.

Oh God-!

Wait, we’re in Nueva York of 2099. In this instance, I should be saying oh Thor.

I gasped softly, my lips forming a smile of my own as Miguel’s hand retracted, cupping my chin as he lowered himself closer. “Miguel~”

I remembered my heart pounding, and perhaps also hearing Miguel’s heart pounding in his own chest thanks to my spider-sense.

Wait, my spider-sense?

Our lips had just barely grazed one another when something large but swift flew overhead us. One moment we were hovering in the air, the next, we were plummeting to the ground below as our weblings were suddenly snapped by what looked like a metal wing.

///////

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coco-loco-nut · 2 years

Text

The Captain’s Daughter (2)

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Reader/OC

Warnings: Angst maybe, sibling fluff, sadness, a lot of sadness

Summary: Maverick adopted Goose and Carole’s daughter, she’s one hell of a pilot, and Bob is smitten

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | alternate ending | part 4

masterlist

______________________

..."Get ready, it's a long story," She sighs, sipping her drink.

"I'm always ready," Bob smiles, lightening the mood a little.

"My dad, Nick Bradshaw -callsign Goose- was Maverick's RIO which is now WSO. They flew in the same class as Admiral Kazansky. In an exercise, Uncle Tom -Iceman- and Mav, were competing, trying to get the missile lock on a MiG. Uncle Tom was trying to best Mav but when he couldn't get the shot, he pulled away. Mav flew into Tom's jet wash which forced him and Dad to eject. Dad was caught by a piece of the jet and he didn't make it. Mav's blamed himself since and so has Uncle Tom," She takes a deep breath, looking up at the sky. "Mom was pregnant with me at the time, though she didn't find out till a month later. Bradley was four. My mom died in childbirth, so I never knew my actual parents. Mav adopted me but only took guardianship of Bradley. A woman named Charlie helped Mav out for a bit at first, but Penny and Sarah, Uncle Tom's wife, raise us while Mav was on missions. Otherwise, we grew up on base. Uncle Tom taught us how to fly, even Cyclone helped a little, as much as he hates Mav. Jake and I were good friends, we fed off each other's arrogance, even if I was more humble. Now he's done damage that won't be easy to fix."

Nicole pauses again before continuing. "I wouldn't have gotten upset if I weren't already upset. I've been off since I won the first exercise. I can't seem to get a handle on the mission and I just found out that Uncle Tom's throat cancer is back and worse, Mav and Rooster don't know yet and I shouldn't have shared that. But, I don't want to lose him. He was Mav's wingman and my mentor. I don't want to attend a funeral while I'm here. So yeah, I guess Jake just pressed a nerve that was already hurt," Nicole finishes, letting the information sink into Bob.

"I'm so sorry Gatsby. That is a lot. I can see what Mav is like now, I can't even imagine what he was like over twenty years ago. Thanks for sharing that with me, unlike Bagman, I won't spill your family secrets. Admiral Kazansky was really your Uncle and Mav's wingman?" Bob slightly changes the topic, trying to lighten the mood.

"Oh yeah. When we get back, I can show you all the pictures. I can even break into Uncle Tom's office on base and show you some embarrassing childhood pics," Nicole cheers up a little. The two down their drinks and head back. Phoenix misses her WSO but her bet with Payback and Fritz might be paying off.

After showing the large picture of Iceman and Maverick hanging up, she gives a little picture tour and pulls out a key to the office labeled 'Admiral Tom Kazansky, Commander of the U.S. Pacific Fleet.' Bob wonders how she got it but doesn't ask.

"This is a picture of Bradley and me with Uncle Ice when we stayed with him and Sarah after Dad got in trouble and deployed," Nicole hands a frame to Bob. As he holds it, he notices half-packed boxes around the office. "Sarah gave me the key to start packing up in here. Uncle Tom works mostly from home anyway so I offered to bring his stuff home," Nicole smiles sadly as she picks up a family photo. It was Tom and Sarah with their kids -both now live on the east coast- alongside Mav with Gatsby and Rooster.

A week later Nicole is standing beside Sarah and Bradley in her dress uniform. Katie and Ron, Tom's children, were on the other side of Sarah. Nicole catches Bob's gaze in the middle of the service, he can tell she is holding back the tears even if some had already fallen. Penny was on the opposite side of Bradley, supporting her friends and Pete as he stood at the casket. For every shot, a tear rolled down her cheek. Bradley held Nicole's hand tightly, hurting just as much.

Maverick couldn't cry, Captain's don't cry. When he pounded his wings into the casket, it was his final farewell to his wingman. Tom would forever be the better pilot. He always was. As the funeral ended, the Mitchells and Kazanskys hugged each other and made future dinner plans. Katie and Ron were leaving soon and wanted to catch up with Bradley and Nicole. Bob and Hangman found their way to Nicole soon after. Each of them greeted her with a hug. They were the only two who truly knew how close both she and Rooster were to the Admiral. The rest of the 12 didn't pry, leaving them to mourn in peace.

"I'm sorry, Gatsby. I know how much he meant to you," Bob wipes her tears from her cheeks.

"I suppose I knew, but I wasn't ready. He's the first parental figure that I knew before losing," She says. Bob hugs her again before letting her rejoin Rooster in the procession out. She wrote Slider a letter offering her condolences for losing a partner an mailed it as soon as Uncle Tom has died. Gatsby has flown solo for a while, but she has seen the pain of losing a WSO or pilot. While she wasn't close with Slider, he had a recurring presence during her childhood.

A couple of days later, she decides to throw a party at her place for the core 8 as she's nicknamed the group. Rooster was the only one who didn't accept the invite, citing the timeline increase. Fanboy, Payback, Coyote, Hangman, Phoenix and Bob all arrive with different drinks in hand. The theme was an alcoholic potluck. It sounded fun. Half an hour later, everyone is starting to enjoy themselves and Phoenix and Hangman are flirting.

"I can't believe Mav would just hijack the course like that," Coyote says, looking at Gatsby who just shrugs. Rooster told her that Mav was permanently grounded after the funeral.

"My father isn't much of a rule follower," she snorts and throws back a shot. Bob, not being much of a drinker and the assigned DD, adds that to his tab on her. He is worried that she is trying to drown her sadness even if she wanted to bond with everyone. Payback hooks up to a speaker and starts playing music. When Nicole is completely trashed, she sits beside Bob, leaning into him. He awkwardly wraps an arm around her shoulders, not sure what to do. The group decided to share funny stories from different missions. Everyone passes out on the floor, except for Hangman who stumbles to the guest room to claim it. No one finds the second guest room. Bob finds blankets and pillows in a storage closet from Nicole's drunk directions and passes them out before turning everything off and carrying Nicole upstairs.

"Bobby, stay," Nicole slurs, pulling shorts and a ratty shirt out. She also grabs a set of what must be Mavs or Roosters old shorts and shirts, handing them to Bob. Bob awkwardly takes them as Nicole starts to strip. He blushes and quickly turns around. "Don't worry, I'll look the other way," Nicole tells Bob who doesn't turn around but takes her word and undresses. She admires his ass before quickly turning around as to not get caught.

"Alright to bed," Bob walks over to her, pulling up the sheets.

"Only if you sleep here too," Nicole says, to which Bob agrees. He plans on sneaking out of the bed as soon as she falls asleep. "Yay!" Nicole kisses Bob who after a second kisses back. As soon as Nicole tries to go further, he stops her.

"Gatsby, you're drunk. Another time," he promises and she cuddles into him. Bob internally sighs, hoping he didn't ruin their friendship.

When Nicole wakes up, she only vaguely remembers the previous nights events. She realizes that she is cuddling someone, being the big spoon to be more specific. Bob. She remembers kissing him, he must've fell asleep. A quick glance at her clock tells her that it's an hour before everyone needs to be up for today's brief. Nicole untangles herself, heading for the shower. After a quick, cold, shower, she puts on her uniform and heads to the kitchen. She doesn't worry about waking Bob up since her alarm is set.

"Morning," Rooster is leaning against the counter, a coffee in hand.

"What? You weren't even here last night," Nicole steals his coffee, taking a few sips.

"Yeah, when no one returned, I set an early alarm and came over to clean a little and help with breakfast," Rooster motions to the cleaner kitchen and groceries on the counter.

"I can't wait for you and Dad to move in," Mav bought this house after he realized that he wasn't going to be getting another assignment after this mission. He takes over after her rental contract expires. He wants to be close to Penny and the Kazansky's.

"I'll start the pancakes if you do the bacon?" Rooster offers, both of them quickly working to get food ready. Fifteen minutes later, people start waking up to the smell of food.

"Marry me, Gatsby," Hangman moans as he takes a bite.

"Then you will be doing all the cooking," Rooster tells him, not lying. Nicole is definitely not the cook of the family. She can, but it's not on Rooster's level.

"Good morning everyone," Phoenix walks in with Bob, who blushes a little when he sees Gatsby. Within thirty minutes everyone is fed and on their way back to the base.

"Good morning, Sir," Gatsby greets Cyclone in the hall.

"Good morning, Lieutenant Mitchell. We will be going over the valley simulation today. If you could get everyone to the briefing room, that would be appreciated," Cyclone informs her. With a quick nod, she changes directions to get everyone and inform them.

"Your Dad is insane," Bob whispers with a smile.

"He likes to break rules," Gatsby chuckles.

With Maverick being team leader, Gatsby knew there was only a slim chance of being selected as wingman. She hadn't mastered the route like Hangman and Rooster. While she was a great pilot, she is the youngest of the group and still has more to learn.

Hangman is assigned Dagger Spare One while Gatsby is given Dagger Spare Two. She is slightly jealous that she is the only one in the family being left behind, but she knows better than to question her father. She sits in her plane beside Jake listening.

"Come on Rooster, you can do it. Reengage," She whispers from the cockpit. Her heart breaks as she hears about Mav and Rooster both being hit and losing contact. It takes everything in her to stay in the plane and do her job. Hangman tries to get clearance but it doesn't work, her world slows down. Bob stands in her view, non verbally trying to support her. When he and Phoenix landed, it kept her from breaking. She hadn't lost everyone. As soon as Rooster's gps tracker is activated, she lets out a silent sob of happiness. But when the bogie appears on the radar, her heart drops again. Mav has no defenses.

"Dagger spare two, permission to take off in support," She requests, readying to take off.

"Dagger spare one, dagger spare two prepare to take off," command says. With a nod to each other, friendship restored, they prepare for a dogfight. She doesn't look at Bob's worried expression.

"I'm going to lure him away so Maverick can land on the carrier," Gatsby says, intercepting the enemy before it can get lock on Mav and Rooster, who finally activates his radio.

"Keep him going, I've almost got him!" Hangman says as she is close to being locked on.

"Hurry up!" She panics as tone starts. Like Rooster and Maverick, she saved them but it will cost her.

"She copied Rooster," Phoenix says on the boat, a little breathless from shock. They can hear Hangman yelling her actual name, everyone knowing what the next few seconds will bring even if they don't want to admit it.

"I'm sorry Dad, Bradley, Jake. I tried," Gatsby cries over the radio as her plane is hit.

"Dagger spare two is down, I repeat, Gatsby is down," Hangman cries out.

"Gatsby. Nicole," Bob whispers sadly. Maverick and Rooster yell out her name and someone turns it off on the deck, preparing for Maverick and Jake's landing and search and rescues attempt to retrieve her from the ocean, if she was able to eject. Even if she did, it's likely that she hit the water wrong.

A young man, blonde and wearing a flight suit, stands in front of the confused girl. Ahead of her is a field of wildflowers and she seems to be on a patio with doors that leads somewhere. She realizes that he is saying something she can't hear.

"-ole. Nicole. Can you hear me?" He says, his voice sounding familiar.

"Who are you? Why do you know my name? Where am I?" She fires off questions and he laughs at her, only increasing her confusion.

"Really kiddo? I'm only the best goddamn pilot the Navy had to offer, and the best uncle ever," He smiles and everything clicks.

"Uncle Ice! Am I dead? Why are you hot?" Nicole hugs him as he laughs.

"Not yet, you are in sort of an in-between. You have a choice to make. Although, I think it's pretty obvious. As to why I'm hot, I've always been this way. I used to get around before Sarah. Tell Mav to drop his dating rule and give Bob a chance. He's been worried. Before I go and you decide, there are two people who are here to see you. I love you kiddo," Iceman tells her, giving her a tight hug. It's odd seeing him so young, and honestly, her uncle was hot. As he leaves through a door, two people who she's only seen in pictures walk in.

"Mom? Dad?" Gatsby gasps, running to them and hugging them. She's getting a lot of hugs for a change, not that she minds.

"My baby. We are so proud," Carole says, taking in her daughter.

"You are one hell of a pilot. You and Bradley both. Better than Maverick, and better than your brother. Ice would kill me again if I said you were better than him. I'm proud that you three have honored both of us in so many ways. Always singing Great Balls of Fire, carrying our favorite book, having my name, Bradley's call sign," Nick tears up a little, his daughter isn't as much of a copy and paste like Bradley is. To Nick, she is the perfect combination of himself and Carole. The selfish part of him wants to keep her here.

"Mav flying the F-14, and me ejecting into the ocean then dying?" Nicole offers with a small smile.

"Yes, even that. We have and always will watch over the three of you. Yelling at Maverick more has become Iceman's greatest past time," Carole laughs, squeezing her daughters arm.

"Nicky, sweetie, you have a choice to make. You can return or stay here with us," Nick says a bit sadly.

"Will I still be a pilot?"

"That's also up to you, baby. We will support you either way," Carole tells her. The once obvious choice has become more difficult. She wants to spend more time with her parents, obviously, but she also has a lot of people waiting on her back home. She has Bob waiting for her.

"I hope you both know how much I dreamed of this. Well not being dead, but seeing you, living with you. Bradley and Dad did their best to fill me in, but a large part of me was missing my whole life. I always needed you," Nicole says, slightly unsure of her decision, but confident at the same time.

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob top gun #bob x reader #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #rooster #bradley bradshaw #captain pete maverick mitchell #pete maverick mitchell #top gun maverick #bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x oc #bob x oc

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