Planes, Love, & Rock ‘n Roll 🎸🩶| Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x 80s Rockstar Masterlist
Characters & Pairings: Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x 80s Rockstar!reader (romantic), Bradley Bradshaw x reader (mother/son-type relationship), Dagger Squad (platonic)
📨 = requested works | TGM Main Masterlist
Content warnings: Fluff, slight profanity, flirtatious banter, light suggestive content, mentions of past drug use. | Female!reader (she/her)
Series Summary 🩶: The Dagger Squad didn’t know much about their former instructor turned friend, Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell. Only Rooster had insight on all there was when it came to the famous pilot, and his love life certainly fell into that. When the squad shows up unannounced to Maverick’s San Diego home for his birthday weekend, they are greeted with the shock of the lifetime when it’s revealed Maverick’s lady once ruled the radio of the decade they were born in. And what better way for them to properly meet one of the greatest rockstars to ever exist than by attending the bands reunion concert that night.
Imagines:
It's A Long Way To The Top
The Rockstar, Her Husband, & Their Dagger Ducklings
Summary: Request - Hi! Can you write a request about ‘86 Maverick where they’re like at the club or something and some other pilot tries to flirt with the reader and that makes the reader feel anxious and nervous, so when Maverick sees this, he gets all mad at the other pilot and protective over the reader and he defends her. Just something angsty and fluffy:) I’d totally understand if you don’t want to write it
A/N: Who doesn't love a good Top Gun 1986 Mav! He's so precious.
Pairing: Young Pete "Maverick"Mitchell x Y/N
Word Count: 3,400+
You’d known Pete for almost as long as your brother, Nick, had. He’d only beaten you by a few days. You were a Naval nurse that always seemed to be stationed close to your brother. The first time you met Pete was when he got sucker punched in the face by a rather handsome man in Tom Kazansky. He went running to medical and you were his nurse. He was enamored with you quickly, especially learning that you were Goose’s sister, twin sister at that.
After years of playful flirting and happen chances you were moved to Miramar right after your brother and Pete were shipped off. Curious it was. You missed him, truly, so it was a little exciting to get the call. The two of you were literally attached at the hip growing up, being twins and all. This was the loneliest time in your life, you’d be amiss to say you were jealous he’d found a replacement for you so quickly after he left for flight school. Those couple years between school and deployments were your least favorite as the two of you barely saw each other.
You were captured in that Mitchell charm rather quickly that first time you met him. It took you a moment to piece together that he was your brothers new friend. You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t think he was handsome as hell, even if he wasn’t the kind of guy you’d normally go after.
You knew you could look but couldn’t touch. Not with Nick’s best friend. He’d skin your ass alive, and you knew that. That didn’t stop you from forming a massive crush on him as you got to know him more throughout the years though. The two of you shamelessly danced around what could be on a daily basis. Nick knew there was probably something more there. Even if he tried to deny the connection the two of you had. He’d only be able to stop it for so long. But he’d keep trying for his sake. He knew as soon as Pete committed to somebody the time he got with his best friend would dwindle quickly. But, if Pete was going to get with somebody he’d be thrilled for it to be you.
You’d just gotten into Miramar and settled in when your brother invited you out to The Hard Deck for some drinks. He promised it wouldn’t get too rowdy knowing you were much more of a homebody rather than a party goer these days. When Nick casually mentioned that Pete would be coming with him you quickly agreed. Nick wasn’t stupid. He knew all about your silly little crush on his best friend. He could get you to go almost anywhere if Pete would be going. He then turned around and convinced Pete to go by mentioning that you agreed if he’d be there. Little did Nick know he was playing mini matchmaker as the two of you got closer and closer with each little activity he’d planned.
When you walked through the front door of the Hard Deck, after putting some effort into the way you looked because… Pete, your attention was drawn to the bar where your brother and Pete were already sitting, “Well I’ll be damned. Y/N Bradshaw out at a bar. A sight rarely seen.” He stood offering his seat to you as the bar had already filled out earlier on in the night than you’d expect. You’d be lying if you said you thought far too much of the little interaction. He was just being kind. You were his best friends twin sister after all. Nothing more, no matter how much you wished it differently.
You rolled your eyes punching him in the shoulder, “Keep that up and I’ll high tail it right out of here Mitchell.”
He winked leaning on your barstool rather than Nick’s, “Love that mouth on you Bradshaw.”
“Jesus, I’m sitting right here.” Nick sighed rolling his eyes at the two of you. Seemingly realizing the two of you were closer than ever at actually going for it. He’d seen Pete lay it on thick before, but this was something else.
Pete flicked his eyes over to his friend, “Wish you weren’t.” That got a laugh out of you. He was so fucking smooth when he wanted to be. Nick simply flipped him off before muttering something, grabbing his beer, and heading to the other side of the bar.
“Can’t believe that worked.” You laughed while flagging down the bartender to order your drink.
Pete smiled at you, taking in your appearance. You hadn’t a clue the massive crush he too harbored on you. Nick didn’t know for sure, but he thought he knew it was deeper than he was making it out to be. Pete wasn’t shy about making comments. He was always careful not to cross a line. But lately things were changing for the two of you. He was utterly pulled to you. Wanting to be around you at nearly every turn. Like two magnets drawn to one another.
“You should know by now Goose does what I ask him to.” He raised his eyebrows studying your face for your reaction.
“Does he now?” You asked leaning back after thanking the bartender for your pale ale.
Pete nodded slowly grinning right at you.
“Won’t be the same case for me. But you know that.” Not having a clue where the outwardly confidence was coming from you took a sip of your own beer eyeing him curiously.
Laughing, he nodded his head in agreement, “Trust me pretty, I do.” Pete smirked seeing the inevitable blush that started forming on your cheeks. It wasn’t the first time he’d used that name on you, but damn did it make your heart race. You wanted nothing more than to have him think you were pretty.
You decided to push it tonight because why not? Pete always pushed it, maybe it was your turn, “Pretty?” You asked leaning forward towards him, utterly interested as to what he had to say to that.
Pete raked his eyes up and down you sitting frame slowly, so slowly, “Downright gorgeous if I’m honest.” He nodded agreeing with himself.
“I don’t think Nick would like you saying that.” You could’ve sworn your heart stopped at the way he smiled at you. Like nothing you’d ever seen before with him.
“Goose isn’t around. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” He leaned forward staring right at your lips. He surely wasn’t afraid to hide his desires. Desires you wished the two of you could act upon.
Before anything further could go on Pete was pulled into another conversation to his side, literally. A hand grabbed him and pulled him. You heard the groan as he turned back to you, “Be right back pretty. Iceman here needs some help.” He winked at you before receiving a clap to the back of the head earning a snicker from you.
It wasn’t five seconds later another person tried and succeeded in sitting at Pete’s spot, “I’m sorry, that spots taken.” You spoke not looking over. Truth be told you hated confrontation more than anything.
“Well, I’d argue it’s not.” A male voice spoke. You rolled your eyes finally looking over at him. ‘Course he was a pilot in those pretty white Navy uniforms you loved so dearly. He would’ve been handsome had he not opened up that ugly mouth of his.
“My friend is just using the restroom. He’ll be right back.” You looked around for Pete after losing him in the crowd to his pilot buddies. Your brother was long lost to the crowd as well. You’d just have to deal with the pig on your own.
“I’ll hold his spot until he’s back then, beautiful.” That got you to look at the sleezy man once again. He just wasn’t getting your hint.
This right here was why you avoided places like these. You peaked around once more feeling defeated not spotting any familiar faces in the crowd, “I’d rather you not.”
He laughed, a gross sound compared to Pete’s casual one, “Playing hard to get is adorable hun.” He cooed, mocking you. Surely a man who rarely got rejected. Maybe you should just get up and give up the spot. It wasn’t worth it at this point. This douchebag was being relentless, and he wouldn’t stop, you knew that.
Your frustration was evident on your face, he clearly wasn’t picking that up, “Please, just go, my boyfriend will be right back.”
He laughed that nasty laugh, throwing his head back, “Oh he’s your boyfriend now? Was just your friend a moment ago.” He leaned forward placing a hand on your knee. You jerked it back quickly without much of a second thought while sending him a nasty glare.
“Don’t touch me.” It didn’t sound as menacing as you’d have hoped. A shaky sounding voice exited as you’d prayed somebody would come and save you. The dude clearly didn’t have any boundaries.
“Oh, sweetheart.” He cooed at you again with that stupid smile creeping up all over again.
Lucky for you Pete had seen the interaction as he was keeping an eye on you. The dude seemed harmless at first until he laid a hand on you. Disgust crossing your face let him know you weren’t comfortable in the slightest. He had to do something. You were his best friends sister.
Before you could respond Pete did for you, “Get the hell out of my seat. The fuck is wrong with you?” Pete nearly growled. A sight you had yet to see from the man. It made you feel weirdly attracted to him at that very moment, a protective nature unfolding before you.
The man smirked while getting up from the seat, “The friend boyfriend I presume.” Shooting you a wink he turned back to Pete.
Pete shook his head, “Fuck off Lieutenant.” You saw the man glance at Pete’s status on his uniform indicating his recent promotion to Captain. There was something. The man rolled his eyes this time before walking away leaving you with an enraged Pete.
He turned to you looking you over. His expression softened seeing your irritated gaze, “Are you alright Y/N?” He asked looking you over, afraid of what the answer could be.
“I’m fine.” You looked away from him quickly feeling almost embarrassed at how quickly the entire thing escalated.
He sat down looking at you skeptically, “Are you sure?”
You nodded finding his concern more than endearing, “Yeah.”
“You don’t sound like it Bradshaw. The woman I know is usually a lot more decisive.” He pressed wanting to make sure you actually were fine. As much as you tried to deny it or wanted to hide it Pete knew you. He knew what your ticks were and handsy men were certainly one of them.
Closing your eyes, sighing, then taking a sip of your beer you thought for a moment, “I’m okay. You got here just in time. I just…” You paused not sure where you were going with it, “Never mind.” You spoke softly in frustration with yourself. Why was being real and vulnerable with him seeming so impossible? He’d been nothing but patient and kind with you, why were you having a hard time returning the favor? Digging down into the next layer seemed so scary, you’d never let anybody do it before. Maybe, just maybe, you were terrified to take the next step with somebody. Let alone your fucking brothers best friend.
Pete shook his head terribly unsatisfied at that answer, “No say it pretty girl. Stop hiding from me. It’s just you and me here, nobody is listening in.” He could see your eyes nervously trailing the bar. Like you were planning your escape. God, he really did know you and your mind because that’s exactly what you were planning, the great escape.
You gulped down a few drinks of the cold beer trying to find the nerve before continuing, “I just wish men would listen. I told him no five times and he wouldn’t take the damn hint Pete. It’s not the first time either. Seems like every time I come to one of these stupid bars this type of shit happens.” You sighed setting the coaster you were playing with in your hands down, “That’s why I hate coming out. It happens more often than not.” You admitted to him. Slowly you looked over to him, afraid of the reaction you would get from him. So often you’d get dismissed, your concerns tossed aside. It’s truly why you just stayed home. It was easier to avoid the situation entirely rather than get victim blamed for whatever action the man of the day decided to do.
You watched him process your words though. Really listen. A brief flash of hope surged through your body as he seemed to be the first male, other than your brother, who actually listened to you, “I know it doesn’t mean much, but I’m sorry. I’m sorry you have to worry about that. I’m sorry we are like that…” This time he paused looking away from you, trying to find his words. Because this wasn’t easy for him either. He was Pete, the playboy. The guy who flirted with anything that moved. The guy who could get whatever he wanted. But with you? You made him feel special. You filled a void he’d been searching for. He was convinced that was why he was the way he was. He was searching for that something that he could never seem to find. Then he found you. But you were off limits. So, he doubled down and tried to find something just like you, or better. But that was a pipe dream, he knew it. Nobody was like you. Nobody could compliment him as well as you did. Nobody seemed to come even remotely close to challenging him like you did. You were quick, witty, charismatic, everything he was looking for in a partner.
You nodded listening to him. Before you could respond though he continued, “I won’t lie to you Bradshaw, I was one of those guys. Been one of those guys. Thought it was charming or some shit like that. But you’ve opened my eyes to it. A lot of these guys think they know better, they’ll never listen. They’re asshole pilots.”
You laughed at that, feeling a small weight being lifted off your shoulders. Pete was digging with you, willing to get deeper than either of you had before, “Like you? An asshole pilot?” You joked with him, wanting to lift the mood just a bit.
He pushed your side lightly, loving the banter between the two of you. That’s how he knew you really were okay. Or that you’d be okay. He’d make sure of it, that was for damn sure, “Oh pretty.” He tossed back the last bit of beer from his glass, snickering after he gulped it down, “You’re sitting with the biggest asshole pilot out here.”
You laughed at that comment, “For some reason, I don’t have a doubt in my mind at all.”
He grinned enjoying seeing you with a smile on your face once more. He adored that smile of yours, “Only in the air though.”
You pushed his side in return, “Now I know you’re lying.” You shot him a wink loving the reactions you were able to stir out of him.
“You’re nothing but trouble Bradshaw.” His laugh was infectious. You couldn’t help but to join in giggling with him. There was something about him that just made you feel so utterly like yourself, perfectly content.
Feeling overly confident you answered him, “I don’t think you’d have it any other way. I get the feeling you like it.”
He nodded, a growing smile on his face, “I do. You know what else I like?” He looked you over again, letting you know just how pretty he thought you really were with that smirk washing over his face.
You cocked your head to the side wondering where he was going with this, “What’s that?”
He grinned loving every second of this, “You, I like you Y/N.”
You were sure your cheeks were as red as a damn tomato, sure of it. Your heart picked up to a rapid-fire speed as you processed what he said to you, “You… what?” Was all your brain could think to spit out at that comment.
His smile only grew seeing you work through it knowing he had completely thrown you off your game. He loved doing that to you. The overthinker you were surely didn’t account for this though, “I like you. Isn’t it obvious Bradshaw? I call you pretty, flirt with you all the time, annoy your brother to death about you.”
The blush on your cheeks surely darkened at that, “You do? He’s never said anything.”
Pete nodded, “Don’t think he’s actively trying to hook his best friend and sister up.”
“Well, when you put it like that.” You laughed realizing how ludicrous it really did sound. Was this actually happening? He actually liked you?
When you went silent for a moment and got that far off stare he knew he needed to speak up, “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours Y/N.” He took your hand in his, a bold move. One he’d been dying to do for quite some time. Between the alcohol and the confession and your obviously good reaction to it all had him feeling a little bit more daring with you than he’d normally would have been.
“You like me?” You turned to him with a look of confusion on your face.
He nodded quickly, “I thought I made it pretty obvious.”
“You probably did. I’m just clueless sometimes.” You smiled relishing in the feeling of Pete holding your hand in his much larger ones.
“You don’t say.” He gave your hand a squeeze letting you take your time. Not forcing you into any sort of confession.
But you wanted to give him one, because damn did he make you feel all sorts of things, “I like you too. You know that?”
This time it was his turn to have that shocked expression cross his face, “You do?”
“A lot.” You nodded your head at him, “More than I probably should.”
He leaned in a little closer now, closer than he’d been before, “I’d argue against that Bradshaw.” Brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face he took you in at a distance much closer than he’d normally seen you. Breathtakingly beautiful, that was his conclusion.
“At the bar? Really guys?” Your brothers annoying as hell voice broke the concentration the two of you had on one another. Pete rolled his eyes while you turned away in embarrassment.
Pete sighed before flipping his eyes to his RIO, "Goose! Really man?” Pete threw him a nasty look before pulling away from you.
“That’s my sister.” He shot him an equally as nasty look with his arms crossed over his chest. If your face wasn’t as red as a damn tomato from the confession it surely was from getting caught by your brother.
“Adult sister who can make her own decisions.” You coughed making sure to insert yourself between the bickering boys.
Nick only flipped you off. Pete gave you a high five loving how you could get under your brothers skin just as deep as he could. He was convinced the two of you were made for each other.
Nick scrunched his nose getting that defeated look across his face, “I don’t condone this.” He pointed at the both of you.
“But?” You interjected knowing he had more to say. Nick always had something more to say.
“I can’t stop it either.” He shook his head before looking right at Pete, “Maverick I swear to God if you hurt her in any way… I’ll beat the living shit out of you.”
Pete smiled knowing that was a valid threat, “I wouldn’t expect anything less Goose. Trust me though, I think it’s her you have to worry about. She’s going to break my heart.” Pete shot you one last wink before grabbing your hand in his. Letting Nick know just how serious he was planning to take this one. You weren’t like his flings of the past. You were different. You were you. He was waiting on you and here you are. Ready to start this life with him, one step at a time.
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Note: this was requested by @cheeseballsaregood hope you like it!🫶
Pairing: Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x reader
Warnings⚠️: a lot of smut and bad language. I think that’s all:)
Summary: Maverick gets jealous and he reminds you that you are…his
As always, you woke up today at 5:00 AM and went for a run before joining everyone else on deck. Fortunately, you only had a few classes today and no practice. You really weren’t in the mood to stand Maverick’s annoying comments on your flying skills. It’s always been like that, since you got into top gun Maverick has had a weird name obsession with making fun of your age and everything that you do. Your brother Goose was 23 and Maverick was 22, so yeah, you were the youngest.
Dealing with Pete Mitchell was never easy, but you had gotten better.
When you made it to your seat, Goose and Maverick both took a seat by your side, placing you between them. “Hey, (y/c/s), we were planning on going to the bar tonight, you coming?” Goose asked you, but before you could answer, Maverick said “I don’t think kids are allowed at the bar”. You looked up to see him wearing that irritating shit-eating grin and you just left saying “I don’t think assholes are allowed either”.
Later that day, you found yourself on the beach with the boys for a volleyball game. Iceman and Slider had also joined and you could tell that Iceman was one good-looking man and you couldn’t help but look at him for a moment and Maverick noticed this. He didn’t like it one bit. You didn’t realize that you were staring at Iceman until a piece of clothing landed on your face hitting it softly. “Stop staring. It’s disgusting” you head Maverick say and you just laughed and said “you wish you looked like him” “I look better than him”.
During the whole game Iceman and Slider were checking you out, even flirting and Maverick didn’t like it at all, so he just threw the ball aggressively in the sand and stormed off. You noticed this and went behind him ignoring Goose’s calls to come back.
“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” You were trying to get to him, but he was walking too fast. “We were having a good time!” He suddenly turned around and said “a good time!? You were not even playing! You were just flirting!” You couldn’t believe that he was mad about that. “Don’t be ridiculous! Why would you even care!?” “They were undressing you with their eyes!” When he said that, you realized that might be jealous, but it was impossible. He never gave any sign of him liking you. “Are you jealous?” He completely ignored your question and told you “get in the bike”. You did what he told you and got into his motorbike and he did the same before starting it off.
You and Maverick made it to his apartment and as soon as you both got in, he pinned you on the wall kissing you hungrily while taking off every piece of clothing he could reach.
When you both made it to his room, he quickly threw you on the bed and took off his own clothes “Turn around.” he said, his eyes were burning with desire.
You obeyed and laid on your stomach, your ass in the air. He stepped towards you, his hand feeling the smooth of your ass, and his hand smacked against you - hard. You whimpered and clenched your thighs, already feeling that primal urge.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re not going to be able to look at Kazansky anymore. You are mine” he smacked you again. “And you’re going to show me that you are mine” you moaned, eager to feel him in you.
You heard as he spat in his hand and let out a sigh as he slipped a finger into you. The soft sigh quickly turned a gasp as he shoved two more fingers into you, not bothering to escalate slowly and directly jumping to three fingers. You closed your thighs and he smacked you again.
“Fuck!” you groaned.
His thumb went to your clit and he began to pleasure you there too. You spread your legs, eager to feel him everywhere, and grabbed the sheets.
“I want to hear you moan my name.” he said as he planted kisses on your neck. “Now.”
You obeyed and opened your mouth. Your moans poured out like water shooting out of a dam. You moaned his name when his fingers slipped out of you, but yelled again as he slammed into you without warning.
His thrusts and hard from the get go, giving you no time to adjust. He grabbed your hair and yanked it back, pulling you against him. He attacked your neck, biting and sucking, and grabbed your breasts, squeezing and pinching.
You turned your head to kiss him but he pushed you down. He slammed into you, making you yell out in a mix of pain and pleasure, and smacked your ass with his hand. He pressed your head further into the mattress as his cock reached deeper into you. Tears were beginning to roll down your cheeks.
In one quick movement he slid out of you and spun you around. Your eyes fell on his face and you nearly came right there. His hair was messy and his were sharp. He tugged you down and slammed back into you. His hand slid up your stomach and chest and rested around your throat.
Your legs were spread wide open and you had a direct view of his cock sliding in and out of you. You moaned and John tightened his grip around your throat. He was close, you could tell by his movements.
His fingers went between you legs and he began rapidly playing with your clit. You moaned his name making him cum. He pressed into you, as deep as he could go, and dragged you into an orgasm with him. He rode you out, pushing his cum further into you, before collapsing on top of you in a sweaty mess, his cock still deep inside you.
Your thighs ached but you ached for more of him.
This type of smut was actually new for me, so I really hope it was not that bad😅
Synopsis: Both you and Maverick are struggling with the loss of Goose. Based on the Zach Bryan And Kacey Musgraves song ‘I Remember Everything’.
Warnings: Alcoholism, death, tears, bad coping mechanisms, break-ups & feeling of abandonment.
Word count: 1.2k
Ever since your boys went off to Top Gun, you couldn’t wait to see them. So, when family week rolled around, you, along with Carole and Bradley, boarded the plane together. Carole was ecstatic to have her sister-in-law joining her on the flight. It gave her someone to watch Bradley while she snuck in a few hours of shut-eye. You couldn’t wait to see your big brother. However, Goose wasn’t the only one you were excited to see. For the past three years, you and Maverick had been dating.
Throughout their time in Fighter Town, you had heard all about your boyfriend’s rivalry with Iceman. You remembered him from Goose’s time at the academy. You found that he was a lovely person. So lovely, in fact, that you went out with him for the entire time Goose was at the academy. You wouldn’t put his competitive side past him. Even if Maverick was stretching the truth just a little bit. You never imagined that the competition between them would escalate to where it was now. As far as you had been told, it was a healthy, safe competition. Now, however, you wanted to smack both Iceman and your boyfriend upside the head.
Your older brother was the most important person in your life. He had practically raised you. You could vividly remember crying for weeks when he left home for the academy. When Maverick and Goose had first been paired together, you had sat the rebellious pilot down and told him that while Goose trusted him, you weren’t so convinced. In that moment, Maverick promised you that your brother would always return safely to his family. Three months later, Mav took you out on your first date.
Maverick had quickly gained your trust. You soon came to learn that you and your brother were the only family that he had. That only helped to prove the fact that Maverick would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat for either of you. For that, you were immensely grateful.
Given their job, you understood that there was a large risk factor. However, you knew how good of a pilot your boyfriend was. If he had any control over the situation, everything would turn out okay. Even though you trusted him, you knew that sometimes, he didn’t trust himself. When he was up in the air, it was like he was flying against a ghost. You knew exactly whose ghost that was.
Mav had always thought that he was a disappointment, purely because he was his father's son. He had always been told that he would never amount to anything, all because of his last name. You saw how hard he worked to prove them wrong. That was one of the things you loved about him. No matter how many times he got pushed down, he always got back up.
This time, however, was shaping up to be very different than the others. This time, there was no going back.
Before they left for Top Gun, you had told Maverick about your ex. After all, you were pretty sure that he would be there as well. Oh, how right you were. It was just your luck that the two of them would end up going head-to-head for first place. At the beginning, you were thrilled with the idea of Mav and Goose getting to go to Top Gun. Now, you would give anything to keep them from ever getting a chance.
Only a few days after you had arrived for family week, there was a tragic accident. Maverick and Ice were tied for first and you knew that both of them would do whatever they could to win. What you didn’t know was that ‘whatever they could’ would come with a grave cost.
When you had first heard the news, you collapsed. You had lost your brother. The one piece of your family you had left and he was gone. Unsurprisingly, Maverick had turned into a mess. Goose was like the brother that he never had. Regardless of whose fault it was technically, Maverick would never stop blaming himself. Needless to say, Mav wasn’t handling the situation very well. Even Carole seemed to be having a better time coping with the tragic loss of her husband.
While a large part of you felt so sorry for your boyfriend, the other part wished he would open his eyes. He wasn’t the only person that lost somebody. But he was sure acting like he was. Carole had lost a husband. Bradley had lost a father. You had lost a brother. And yet none of that seemed to matter to your grieving boyfriend. To him, he was the only person that lost Goose. He began drinking his troubles away, not a single thought as to what all of this was doing to you.
Now, you were sobbing in the bedroom you shared with Maverick. He hadn’t been at the past few days of training, spending all of his time in the bar. With your boyfriend off god-knows-where, you couldn’t help but miss everything that the two of you used to have. Late nights spent cuddled up on that old ratty couch, Mav whispering sweet nothings in your ear the whole time flooded your mind as you continued to sob.
Goose wasn’t just your boyfriend, he was your best friend. A few days after the accident, the pain had worn off. Now, all you felt was numb. While Maverick had drinking, you had nothing. You had nothing to make that feeling go away. Through your tears, you finally came to a horrible realization. Your loving boyfriend was gone. He died in the same accident that your brother did.
You couldn’t stay with him anymore. Not if it was going to be like this. Was Maverick hurting? Of course he was. But were you also hurting? Yes. In the aftermath of the accident, you had assured Maverick again and again that you were there for him. That you would be the shoulder he could lean on should he need somebody. Instead, he had turned to drinking, leaving you with no shoulder at all.
Sniffling, you wiped your nose on the back of your hand and stood up from the bed on shaky legs. You hadn’t left the bed all day. Picking up the phone, you tried to call the bar where you figured Maverick was. When the bartender picked up and tried to hand the phone to Mav, your boyfriend refused to talk to you. The phone dropped out of your hand as you stared straight ahead. That was the straw that broke the camel's back.
Numbly, you began packing your bags. You had very few clothes, but you threw all of them into a bag with little to no order. Soon enough, your bags were packed and you were slamming the door of Maverick’s base housing. Time seemed to fly as you called a taxi to the airport and bought a ticket home. Sure, Carole and Bradley were still here, but you had no reason to stay. You would have loved to stay for Maverick’s graduation. However, you just couldn’t bring yourself to wait around for someone that was long gone.
The long-suffering RIOs play matchmaker, ft: idiots pining, forced proximity, and my personal headcanon that Maverick hates thunderstorms.
Iceman x Maverick
Warnings: Cussing, minor suggestive content, mostly fluff with a tiny bit of angst, Goose lives (yay), no beta reading, and possible misspellings (words are hard ok?)
Characters & Pairings: Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x 80s Rockstar!reader (romantic), Bradley Bradshaw x reader (mother/son-type relationship), Dagger Squad (platonic)
content warnings: Fluff, slight profanity, flirtatious banter, light suggestive content, mentions of past drug use. pop culture references | Female!reader (she/her) | wc: 5k
Requested 📨 yes/no (for @fangirlvibez) 🩶
Premise: After two years since getting the band back together, Y/n and The Romantics have got the opportunity most artists dream of getting when they've achieved legendary status in their career: a documentary film. Recalling the days of discovery, early stardom and the love she found along the way, frontwoman & daughter of Rock n' Roll Y/n L/n-Mitchell writes a love letter to not only her fans, but the pilot who captured her heart...and the little girl with a voice of an angel who broke away from God to become a rockstar.
Note: I've said it and I'll say it again, writing dagger squad x famous!reader is in my top 3 pairings I've written for, and it makes me so happy that after two plus years of doing them, you guys love them and continue to request them--even when I've been slacking on getting through requests. This request was the spark I needed and once I started typing, it never stopped. Again (like every note in my works the past several months) I'm sorry for the wait and I hope this gives you everything you hoped for. 🩶
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3….2….1…
“Are we rolling?” Y/n laughed, apologizing to the producers and crew in front of her when she realized they had already begun filming when she was off in la la land singing ‘How Will I Know,’ by Whitney Houston under her breath while an assistant made sure the mic was secured on her t-shirt.
“Yes, Ms. Y/n,” the lady in an all red pantsuit chuckled, adjusting her headset and motioning for the cameraman to not stop the camera. “But don’t worry we’ll edit it out.”
They were not going to edit it out. In fact it was going to be the opening sequence to Y/n’s personal bits.
“I’m so embarrassed,” the rockstar hid her face with a hand, but then remembered she valued her life and would not ruin the masterpiece her makeup artist had created. “I’m sorry--I’m ready when you are, darling.”
To celebrate the 45th anniversary of the release of their first song, Y/n & The Romantics were approached by HBO to film a documentary recounting their early days of their group, the height of their career, the twenty-year hiatus, and finally their reunion with a crew following them during the American leg of their 2024 world tour. It was an exciting opportunity. One the band--and especially their lifelong fans--were delighted.
It’d been two years since their return to music. Together as a group that is. And not once had it lost its thrill. Releasing two albums, going on back-to-back World Tours, winning two Grammy’s and three Moonman. Performing at the Billboard Music Awards where they received the Icon Award. A song from their early albums featured on the Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 soundtrack.
Things were looking great. Perfect.
Now Y/n sat in the comfort of her home, dogs taking claim to areas not occupied by the many crew members, recording her personal interviews for the documentary while Pete and Rooster worked in the garage to pass time until Y/n and Pete were to do their piece.
The producer adjusted herself in the chair, clipboard in her lap, “So, Y/n, I’m going to ask some relatively basic questions, but just speak what your heart desires. Sounds good?”
She gives a thumbs up, “sounds great.”
“I guess we’ll start by having you introduce yourself,” a few chuckles rang out. Y/n letting out a giggle as the producer shrugged with a smile. “I know, I know. We know you but for this part we’ll be showing flashbacks of your early childhood.”
“Okay, okay. No pressure.” Y/n got comfortable. Looking straight at the camera, Y/n gave a dazzling smile. “Hi, I’m Y/n L/n, songwriter and frontwoman of Y/n and The Romantics. I was born and raised in Atlanta, Georgia and I will not disclose my age,” she winked, chuckling with the crew. She recently celebrated her 60th birthday. “You can google that information.”
“Can you tell us about what your childhood was like? For those who may not know, how did you and the others meet?”
Y/n inhaled deeply, the memories of growing up in the late 60s and early 70s surfacing. Replying in her mind like an old film. Beaming as she recalled, “we all lived on the same block--went to the same elementary school and junior high before we got signed. Maya and I were neighbors, Evan lived across the street. Danny and Ronnie were up the road, closest to a convenient store we’d go to on the weekends to grab a coke or smoke a cigarette. We rode the same bus, had the same teachers. If I wasn’t at Maya’s, we were down at Ronnie’s or one of the guys. Chilling in the garage listening to the Beatles and B.B. King or taking the city bus to our favorite record store.”
A distant look in her eyes appeared when she began talking about her family. Both sets of grandparents died before she reached 21. Luckily they were able to witness Y/n’s career take off but missed out on major milestones. A few cousins passed on over the years, as did many friends. Unfortunately, her father greeted the other side when she was 45. And while it’s been fifteen years since, not a day goes by where she didn’t think of him. As for her mother, she just turned 90 and was still kicking.
“My parents were working class citizens, who worked their tail off to provide for us. My father actually worked at the same company with Evan’s dad. Then mine, Ronnie’s, and Maya’s mom were part of the same social circle.” Exhaling, Y/n tilted her head with a small smile, “I had a good childhood. One many kids would wish for---a loving family living in a nice house. Yeah there were times where my parents had to forgo a home cooked meal in favor of keeping the lights on one more night. Occasionally birthday presents were postponed until a month after our birth date. But, we were happy. We had each other, and that’s all that mattered.”
Taking a sip of water, Y/n cleared her throat while adjusting her position on the couch, the producer asking, “When did you first fall in love with music? You mentioned you guys would go to the record store and in earlier interviews how you guys' covered musicians on the streets of Atlanta--which evidently is how you were discovered. Did you always want to pursue the industry as a rock band or did it come as a surprise.”
“A little bit of both,” she answered honestly. Y/n thought back to years leading up to their discovery. Their small, humble setup with secondhand instruments they got from yard sales with saved up allowance money. Claiming a corner near the busy intersection of downtown Atlanta which was now known as Olympic Centennial Park following the 1996 Atlanta Olympic Games. Keeping their guitar cases open for when passer byers dropped coins or loose bills.
Was it the safest idea? Not really. But it was 1978 and things were different. People left their cars unlocked. One could ask a stranger for a cigarette or a ride down the street without a second thought. 1978 was a memorable year as the year the Women’s Army Corps came to an end, the discovery of Pluto’s first moon, the first IVF baby conceived, and Harriet Tubman became the first African American woman on a postage stamp. Georgia opened the first ever Home Depot, and native Jimmy Carter was president of the United States.
“Music was always there growing up,” she explained. “My parents collected records--my mother always had one playing when cleaning or cooking. Either that or the radio was on. For my seventh birthday I received a wooden harmonica and boy was it the best gift ever,” she hummed with a smile.
She still had that harmonic. It was on a shelf in her bedroom, right next to the picture frame holding the tickets and signed program from the Elvis Presley concert she attended in 1976.
“Any allowance or birthday money I got was put in my piggybank--which was then cashed in on a used 1940s Fender Esquire I got from a yard sale for all of $40. And before you say anything--,” she pointed a finger, “$40 was a lot back in the day even if it was used. Especially for a twelve-year-old.”
Like the harmonica, the first guitar Y/n ever owned was on display on the wall where the rest of them were. Beside her legendary hot pink ‘Dirty Shirley’ Fender Stratocaster and Elvis’s 1960 Gibson J-200 famously used in his 1968 comeback special.
“Of course the dream was to be discovered, signed, make music and be able to say we got to live the dream. Even if it was for a short amount of time,” Y/n talked with her hands, “but it was a shock. Never did we expect it would’ve happened the way it did. I mean c’mon,” a playful left her lips, leaning forward to emphasize her words, “we were fourteen! High school was about to start for us and there was no way in hell my parents would accept me dropping out to go live life as a rockstar.”
“Can you tell us about that day? How exactly did it play out?”
Of all the questions the producer asked throughout the duration of filming the documentary with the Romantics, hearing them recount the day they were discovered was in their top 3. The crew saw how each member brightened, turning back into their 14-year-old self with the excitement painting their face.
“It was my idea to cover ‘Cry Baby’,” Danny stated. “Y/n and Maya were set on ‘California Dreamin’,’ Evan wanted to fit in, ‘Superstition,’, and Ronnie didn’t give a shit as long as we made the most out of the day. But it was yours truly who pushed for Y/n to cover Janis. You’re welcome.”
Ronnie would go on to say, “Danny and Evan did what they always did when a pretty girl stopped to listen; fought for her attention. Maya kept telling them to shut up and focus because it was the one day of the week during the school year where we got to go into the city to play. My keyboard had probably another month before I needed to replace it. Transporting it back and forth every week kept scratching it up.”
“I don’t want to say it was superstition,” Evan winked, a nice call back to the song he originally wanted them to cover in their set list, “But when I woke up that morning, I felt something--like it wasn’t going to be a normal set we’d had. There was a shift in the air the moment I put the guitar on and Y/n started belting ‘Fortunate Son.’ Maybe it was just me…I don’t know. But to this day, I believe the stars happened to align at the right moment for us.”
Maya beamed with each word, “Halfway through our set, a butterfly landed on my bass, and it was only ten minutes later that Mr. Mayhew found us. To me it was a sign--and why my bass always has butterflies on it. Afterwards we begged my brother to take us to Burger Chef to celebrate. Which ugh--!” She made a sound of longing, “Doesn’t even exist anymore! God the days where I could get a burger, fries and a shake for less than a dollar.”
“It was like any other weekend,” scratching her jaw, Y/n remembered every detail of the moment she and the band were approached by the music producer. “It was Saturday, middle of May and already scorching hot by mid-afternoon. We were a week away from the last day of junior high. Maya’s older brother would take us to our usual spot on his way to work and pick us up at the end of his shift.” Y/n bit back a smile, thinking about the big juvenile crush she had on him. Probably because he had a car and job, which back then was an attractive thing for any guy. It never went anywhere of course, and the two stayed friends--attending each other's wedding years later.
“Every week we’d plan a set list of songs, both covers and ones I wrote. If we ran out of songs before Maya’s brother got off, we’d either call one of our parents to pick us up or continue playing whatever song we felt like. I was intimidated, to say the least, when it came time to cover ‘Cry Baby.’ So I mentally went, ‘fuck it, just do it,’ and poured my entire soul into singing. When I finished the adrenaline kept pumping, and I barely registered the suited man walking up with a business card and telling me to, ‘have your parents call this number. You kids have talent that only comes once in a lifetime. I wanna help you share it with the world.’”
For the next hour the producer relayed the questions and Y/n recalled the years between 1979 and 1989. Their first decade as a band was filled with success and hardships. The launch of their debut single and album. Appearing on Johnny Carson and SNL, being the third music video to ever play on MTV and winning their first Grammy. We Are the World with Michael Jackson, collaborating with Duran Duran, Eurythmics, and Diana Ross. The international tours, the rumors of Danny and Y/n’s addiction--which were false, tense moments where someone nearly quit. The lawsuit against a producer who was cheating them out of money.
It was tough. But they pulled through.
“1989 was a memorable year,” the producer began, a knowing smile on her lips. “Not only for the band….but for you, Y/n. 1989 was the year you met Pete Mitchell.”
To say the heat in her veins rivaled that of a volcano on the verge of exploding, was an understatement. The confident, playful, rockstar reduced to that of a shy schoolgirl falling in love for the first time.
“Yessss,” she bit her lip, glancing away from the camera to hide the grin, but it was to no avail. It stayed on as she returned her attention forward, “That’s right.”
“We’re gonna bring Pete in soon, but like your bandmates we want to have you talk about your relationship before sitting you both down for the next portion of this interview.”
“Of course. What would you like to know?”
“Well, to begin, can you tell us how you and Pete met? It was after you performed at the Staples Center, correct?”
“Yup. August 15, 1989, at what was once called Club Electric Idol, known today as Melvin’s Planet Enterprise in Los Angeles. We finished our gig at the Staples Center and decided to hit up a club to end the night. Electric Idol was not far from our hotel.” The blue strobe lights flashed in her mind, followed by the image of a young Pete, Ice, and Slider walking up. His hair perfectly styled, bomber jacket and aviators on. Y/n chuckled, “I don’t know how long we’d been there, but next thing I know this guy is tapping my shoulder to ask if he could take a moment of my time. At first I expected another drunken pick-up line, but Pete shocked my core when he and his friends started belting, ‘You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling,’ in the middle of the bar. Maya looked at him like he had two heads,” the giggles were now loose. Y/n unable to contain them.
“I think Evan joined in,” a cough escaped, the woman shaking her head, “Pete was unlike any man I’d ever met. And considering I married the guy,” flashing her left hand, the diamond ring sparkled. “It’s safe to say he successfully wooed me with his beautiful rendition.”
The producer laughed with the rest of the crew, “Shall we bring him in then?”
“Ready when you are, baby.”
Signaling the assistant, the young man raced out before returning a short moment later with Pete in tow. The pilot shyly waved to the guest, but instantly lit up when his eyes landed on Y/n. Nerves disappear with the relaxation of his features.
“Hey, hot shot.”
“Hey there, songbird.” He took his place beside her on the couch, leaning back when the PA attached the mic to his shirt. “How’s it been going?”
“Perfect,” she replied with a smile, moving closer which then prompted their dog Ice to join them on the couch. Goose changed his napping spot to in front of Pete’s feet. Bella stayed on her bed. “Will Bradley manage the car on his own, or is he taking a break?”
Pete reached down to give Goose a pat on the head, brushing his hand down his back to get rid of the shedding hair, “He’s heading to go shoot hoops with Jake and Payback. Said he’ll be back for dinner.”
Shuffling through her papers, the producer spoke into her headset before facing the couple. “Okay for this segment we’re gonna ease our way into the topic of relationships and maintaining them in this industry. Say whatever you’re comfortable with--we’ll edit out anything you might want cut in the final production.”
Pete lifted a thumb, “Cool.”
“Pete, before you came in Y/n was telling us about the night you met,” Red coating his cheeks in a flash, the pilot making a sound of embarrassment.
“Oh God.”
Y/n giggled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Oh stop it, you were the star of the night, Pete Mitchell.”
“Can you explain what prompted you to approach Y/n? You were with your friends, having just attended their show hours prior, on vacation. What outcome were you hoping to come out of it?”
“To be honest with you I wasn’t exactly thinking of the outcome,” Pete, still red as a tomato, stared into the camera with a pleading look as if begging the eventual audience to believe him. “My buddies and I had this thing where when we saw a pretty lady we’d say, ‘She’s lost that lovin’ feeling,’ which was code for, ‘Please help me impress her.’ I’d only done it a few times before Y/n,” Briefly glancing at her, Pete chuckled as he recalled the words he told her, repeating them to the camera, “The first time crashed and burned. The second one got me a date, and the third….third time's a charm.”
The next few minutes the couple went back in time. Remembering it all like it was yesterday. Afterwards Pete spoke of their first date, how he asked Y/n to be his girlfriend and the reality of going public with their relationship.
“I knew what I was signing up for when I fell in love with Y/n,” with his hand placed on top of her knee, Pete started to caress the area. The leather of her pants smooth against his thumb. “We had high demand jobs. Sometimes I couldn’t get in touch with her per my missions' orders. Her schedule was constant. But when you love someone, you make the time. You show up when it matters. I made sure to be at every major performance. Called every week--I once drove around Reno for hours trying to find a working payphone so I could wish her luck before she took to the stage. Sent flowers to her dressing room--which in the beginning was damn hard because the security thought I was a crazed fan.”
Y/n continued, but not before laughing at her husband. “Whenever we were on break from recording or tour, I’d go to whatever base Pete was stationed at. He’d take me to the hangar and show me all there was to Naval aviation. I would say more of what we’d do, but I don’t want him getting in anymore now that he’s retired,” a sly wink was sent to the camera, both adults giggling as Mav brought a finger to his mouth, ‘shhhh.’
“Now, Y/n, during the final show of the band’s reunion tour you revealed that the rumored break up between you two before you got married never happened. How did you manage to keep such a big secret like that all these years?”
“A great publicist, not going out as much when we had time off and learning the art of deception.” Of course that last one was a little lie. In reality, they were lucky it all worked out the way it did. That people, specifically reporters and paparazzi, started to leave Pete alone. Toning down their stalking of the poor guy. Plus the band’s and Y/n’s personal publicist, with the consent of everyone involved, planted seeds of her romantically linking to other high-profile individuals. Like Paul Rudd during his early years of fame, and Ethan Hawk.
“Things at my job were becoming unstable with the amount of attention I got being Y/n’s partner,” Pete explained. “My superiors were concerned with sending me out after an incident where a fan tried following me to the hangar. Now at the time, this was before September 11th, you could drive onto military installations, but there were still certain areas restricted to only personnel. This fan attempted to breach the restricted area, then there were times the paparazzi photographed me in places that were confidential.”
“So we staged a break-up,” Y/n threw her hands up, letting out an irritated sigh. 25 years later and it still bothered her how invasive people could be. Especially with Pete, her man. Compromising his job, and potentially his life.
She’d raise hell.
Shaking her head, the rockstar went on to say, “It worked, thankfully. Got the paps and weirdos---yes I am the type to call obsessive, stalking fans weirdos,” her eyes were fierce, staring into the soul of the camera.
Well, the soul of the audience watching.
“There are lines, people. Boundaries. Ones that should be respected. Yes, I’m aware what it means to be a public figure and therefore my life is an open book half the damn time. But seriously, that doesn’t give permission to stalk the lives of my loved ones. Hell!” she slapped a hand on her thigh, “Even when we first started out….we were kids. We should not have had to constantly watch our backs for people who might want to harm us. Or scare us for that matter.”
They continued discussing the subject for a brief period. Followed by the events leading to their engagement and marriage. The wedding had been the talk of the year when it was announced. Y/n wore custom Chanel, Pete in his Dress Whites. An intimate ceremony with their friends, family, Pete’s superiors, and few members of the music industry Y/n grew close to. Dolly Parton, Diana Ross, Stevie Nicks, Michael Jackson, and fellow Atlanta natives TLC among the guest list.
“You two have been together 34 years--married for 22. Maya and Evan recently celebrated 37 years as a couple--tying the knot in 1994. Danny and his wife have been married since 2000 and Ronnie recently celebrated 20 years with her wife. Pun intended, but it appears all members of Y/n and The Romantics found the key to life-lasting romance.”
“We did, didn’t we?!” Y/n clapped her hands in glee, lightly bouncing on the couch from the excitement. “I had never thought of that before, oh my gosh, that’s amazing!” Mav laughed with her but then had to calm down Goose who got up from the sudden noise and started barking. Making Ice, who’d been laying on the couch, get off to leave the living room. “I should write a song about that,” the idea came to mind, Y/n straightening up with an expression indicating a light bulb went off. “Oh yeah,” humming, she fell back against the couch with a content exhale, “I know what our next album is going to be. And I promise to put you on the credits,” she ends with a point to the producer, who appreciated the gesture with a grin and thumbs up.
“Looking forward to it.”
November 10th, 2024 -- The Chinese Theater in Hollywood, Los Angeles, California.
A block away from their Star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, Y/n and The Romantics stood in front of the iconic Chinese Theater to the flashing cameras and screams of fans for the premiere of their documentary film, “Rock to Romance: The Story of Five Kids from Atlanta with A Dream of Rock n’ Roll.’
Already a success with the critics praising the direction, production, and the intimate, raw interviews of the band members, the documentary was a hit. The Atlanta premiere the week prior reserved for special guests and critics shot Y/n back in time to 1978. They were at Olympic Centennial Park, down the street from the intersection where it all started. Overcome with emotion, the frontwoman had to excuse herself from the red carpet early. Escaping to a bathroom where Ronnie and Maya found her, the trio embraced in a hug with no words needed to understand the message.
They lived their dreams. They were icons of Rock and Roll.
Now at the Hollywood premiere, Y/n was more relaxed. At ease with the environment. Reporters of major news stations and entertainment media waited patiently for their turn at interviewing the band. Celebrities from every industry one could think of attended. Many of which were fans themselves and had the honor of calling Y/n and The Romantics their friend. Directors Baz Luhrmann and Greta Gerwig--both secretly competing to direct the group's biopic. Georgia natives that couldn’t make the Atlanta premiere: Walton Goggins, Dakota and Elle Fanning and Gladys Knight. Actors including Robert Downey Jr., Jack Black, Chris Tucker, Meryl Streep, and Michele Yeoh. Professional dancer Derek Hough, who’d been Ronnie’s partner on Dancing With The Stars. Supermodels of the 80s and 90s Cindy Crawford, Tyra Banks, and Iman. Then there were some athletes like Rafael Nadal, Carl Lewis, Michael Jordan, Venus and Serena Williams, and Mary Lou Retton.
And of course, you can’t forget the rockstars. Members of Duran Duran, Cheap Trick, U2, Guns N’ Roses, Journey, Blondie and Def Leppard. Cyndi Lauper, Janet Jackson, Pat Benatar, Annie Lennox, Stevie Nicks, Joan Jett, and Pattie LaBelle.
Fans lined the streets, screaming each time a car rolled up and finally exploded the moment all five members were together.
Y/n stood in the middle, Maya and Ronnie on either side, Evan next to Maya and Danny beside Ronnie. The ladies appeared as walking Goddesses in custom Dior and the fellas stunning in Louis Vuitton. They posed for the array of paparazzi and fans. Doing their best not to squint as the ongoing flashing lights blinded them. Ronnie cracked jokes; Evan flirted with Maya to get her blushing. Danny, like always, gave his blue steel.
And Y/n? She was just happy to be there.
Searching the crowd for her husband and invited guests, the rockstar was relieved when they finished the red carpet portion of the event. Beelining to Maverick, accompanied by the group of dagger ducklings she loved dearly. “I’m so happy you guys made it!!” Embracing each one of them, Y/n moved to Pete’s side once placing a motherly kiss to Rooster’s cheek.
“We wouldn’t have missed this for the world, Y/n,” Natasha told her, the guys echoing with approval. She was wearing vintage Oscar De La Renta. A gift from Y/n when she made Commander. “This is insane,” she awed, motioning to the scene around them. The carpet was still underway with stars, the countdown to the film minutes away. “And here I thought nothing would compete with the Hall of Fame induction.”
“Speak for yourself, Trace,” Jake, handsome as ever in his Tom Ford suit, spoke from behind. “I for one knew this premiere would have a larger turn out. I mean c’mon, it’s all everyone’s been talking about since March.” Rolling her eyes, Natasha turned back to Y/n, who was biting back a laugh at the two.
Rooster, out of his typical Hawaiian shirt and instead nicely dressed in a custom Ralph Lauren tuxedo, stepped forward. “I guess I’ll be the first of these clowns to say, congratulations to you and the band, Y/n on this amazing film. It’s been an honor watching it unfold, and we’re excited for what comes next.”
“Aw, Bradley,” she holds back the tears this time to not mess up her makeup, but pulls him into another hug nonetheless. “Thank you. It means so much to us--and I’m so grateful to have you all here. To be part of this journey. Supporting me and Pete, the band and just everything.”
“No tears,” Reuben, also wearing Ralph Lauren, playfully scolds. “Can't be messing up that pretty face when you have a speech to give in front of a theater full of Hollywood hot shots. Save that for the party.”
“Please,” she scoffs, returning the manner, “I’ll be too drunk to cry. I might be 60, but I can still hold my liquor.”
“Planet Enterprise, right?” A Gucci wearing Javy raises a brow, making finger guns.
The rockstar winked, “You know it.”
Ten minutes after passing time with small talk, the group were ushered inside where Y/n quickly returned to her bandmates for the speeches and introductions of the doc. Managing to keep it together, Y/n thanked her family, friends, Pete, the crew and production company for dedicating the time and energy to making the documentary, and of course her best friends on stage.
The four individuals who were the only ones on the planet to relate to everything Y/n experienced in the world of rock n roll. 50+ years of friendship. Seeing each other at their best and worst. Accomplishing milestones together.
They were more than a band. They were a family.
Finally the lights turned off, the screen went white, and the reel began rolling. Opening with the image of Y/n on her living room couch. The image of a woman, who was once a young girl with dreams of playing her Fender Esquire on the stages of Madison Square Garden and the Staples Center. Possessing the voice of an angel who broke away from God to become a rockstar.
“If you could travel back to 1978 and give your fourteen-year-old self advice for the road ahead, what would you tell her?”
“I’d tell her……don’t lose that dream, little one. You’ve got the journey of a lifetime waiting for you.”
Summary: Request - Hi can you write a request about Maverick x a shy pilot reader and make it fluffy. Like Maverick pulls reader out of her shell?
A/N: Kinda made this a shy pilot because she’s crushing on him not because she’s shy in general. Also turned out way more angsty than I was planning but it’s still super fluffy! Hope you still enjoy :)
Pairing: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x Y/N (2022 Version)
Word Count: 3.7k +
Edited again 3/11/24 after finding lots of issues - sorry!
He knew from the moment he spotted you in the back of the classroom on that very first day he was a goner. Physically, you were perfect. Your hair framed your face perfectly, your eyes reflected the sunshine in a way he’d never seen, your smile was truly infectious, you were perfect in all the right places.
Mentally, you were a challenge for him. You were shy. So quiet. He couldn’t seem to get through to you either. You were close. So damn close to taking that next step. But it’s like you were afraid. You were scared to fail. You were an exceptional pilot. Right on par with Hangman. You were good enough to block him out and take him down. You were able to prove that you were the best of the literal best. But something was stopping you.
You were never afraid to challenge your classmates. He got a kick out of it when you’d snap back at Hangman with the venom dripping in your voice. You were beyond intimidating when you needed to be. You didn’t need to talk shit because your flying proved how good you really were. You knew you were good. You knew you were great. You also knew your limits. You knew you needed to become exceptional. There was something more for you to give. You just had to find it first.
But Pete, Maverick, Mitchell? Maverick terrified you, in the best way. He was a legend. Literally never lost. Almost had five live air kills… you could go on and on about him. Ad to find out he was your instructor for the next six or so weeks? You knew you were toast. Absolute toast. Then you actually laid eyes on the Captain, and you wish you could’ve just exploded right there on the spot. He was handsome. So, fucking handsome. You locked eyes with him for only seconds on that first day of class before your turned away. You didn’t look back to him at all that class. Too terrified you’d make a damn fool of yourself.
So, you kept it short with him. Quick ‘Yes’s and No’s’. You’d often just take his corrections without fighting back. It confused him. You were so damn different with him than anybody else. You’d even warmed up to Cyclone, the Admiral for God’s sake. He saw you walking, talking, and laughing with him on your way to lunch one day. He didn’t have a clue as to why you were so shy around him. Why you’d rather run in the opposite direction than have to pass him in the hallway. It’d only been two weeks and it was driving him mad. He needed to talk with you. Was it something he did?
He would he decided. At the end of your next classroom session. One way or another he’d get some answers out of you. He needed to know if he did something wrong. It was gnawing at the back of his head.
“Birdie, if you don’t mind. Stay back for a second?” You looked at Bob who just shrugged, unsure of what your instructor could have wanted. You packed up slowly letting everybody trickle out before walking towards the front of the classroom.
Birdie. Your callsign. You had a love and hate relationship with it. You’d always joked that you felt like a bird in the sky when you were in training to become a pilot. Your friends promptly started calling you Birdie and it just stuck. You kind of wished you had a more fun story to tell other than the boring one of how you got your callsign. But alas, you didn’t. It was simple. Cute. Basic. Kind of like you. You’d never seen yourself as anything but ordinary. Just Y/N. Good at her job Y/N.
“Captain.” You let out a shaky breath. He made you nervous. So damn nervous. People of authority always did. And then he looked like that on top of it? Forget it. You were a goner. It wasn’t right to be thinking such unsavory thoughts about your damn instructor in your head. It made you act like a fucking weirdo in front of him. Case and point. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes.
“Good job up there today. Four for four.” You looked up from where you standing just quickly enough to see him staring right at you. Why’d he have to be so handsome? It was an unfair game that was suddenly being played against you.
“Thank you.” A small smile crept to your face hearing the compliment. It felt good. A small praise from the man giving you a small bit of confidence to look up to him but give him no more.
He nodded walking down to you, standing across from you. Your heart rate picked up quickly feeling his presence right there. Right in front of you. Oh, how you’ve avoided this situation masterfully. Now look where you were. Stuck alone in the classroom with him right there in front of you. What could possibly go wrong?
He waited until you looked at him to continue. He knew curiosity would get the better of you sooner or later. He was right. After thirty seconds of silence, you looked up.
He smiled seeing your doe-eyed expression. He shouldn’t feel this way about you. He shouldn’t want to brush the strand of hair that fell out of your bun away from your face. He shouldn’t want to run a hand along your back. He shouldn’t want to fucking kiss you senseless. But he wanted it. He wanted it all and more. So much more. What the hell was wrong with him? You were so young. So lively. Had so much to look forward too. Hell, you even had a shot of becoming an admiral if you had the drive to do it.
“Sir?” You asked, waiting on his question. His reason for holding you back.
He hummed delaying a second, “Everything alright?”
Nodding quickly your head turned up to him again, “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”
He shrugged looking away for a moment. Giving you a second of reprieve from his gaze. Everything about the man was commanding. Everything, “No reason. You just seem to be a bit fidgety?”
What the hell was he going on about? You weren’t acting any different than you had been prior, “I do?” Of course, you were fucking fidgety. He was less than a foot from you not having a damn clue what he was doing to you. You could smell him. He smelled better than you imagined. Leather, oil, and cedar all mixed together. Way too good for a day instructing on base.
“Did I do something?” He spit it out. Well, it was out in the open now. It’s not like he could take it back. It sounded so terribly insecure when he spoke it out loud.
You shook your head, “No, not at all Captain.” Your heart started racing as he gave you a once over.
“Then what is it Lieutenant?” He asked with all the calmness in the world.
Your head was swimming. Swimming with thousands, millions of thoughts, “Sir?” Play dumb. That was always the easiest route to go.
“Why can’t you look me in the eye Y/N?” Why’d he have to use your name like that? It got your dumb hear racing faster than even you were used to.
Your eyes snapped to his. That was not the question you were expecting, “You… Authority makes me nervous.” You spoke quietly deciding to keep your eyes locked in on his. Not letting his statement completely reign true.
He grinned a wicked look before a much more innocent one came to face, you didn’t miss it though, “I make you nervous?”
You said nothing at first, nodding quickly in agreement instead, “Authority.” It was merely a whisper.
Mav’s face cracked into a simper while he studied your features, “There’s nothing to be nervous about.”
You didn’t move your head, but your eyes moved to look to him, “I suppose that’s easier said than realized.” You admitted.
He stepped forward. Probably crossing a line, he shouldn’t have. But he couldn’t stand it. Why were you comfortable with everybody else but him, “What can I do then?”
You cocked your head to the side, “What do you mean Mav?” You asked so softly he thought his knees were going to buckle right then and there. You said his name so sweetly it took him off guard. He really should just let you go. This was a bad idea. He shouldn’t be pressing you like this. He knew better than to. But he didn’t want to. He wanted to press on. Dig a little deeper. See you a little bit better. He was intrigued.
“Is there anything I can do to make you less nervous?”
You laughed softly. Get ugly? Stop looking like that? Stop being so hot in a flight suit? Stop being my flight instructor? “Afraid not Captain.” You sat back on the desk knowing this was likely not going to be over soon.
He took a seat next to you, “Why not?”
You shrugged, “It’s the authority thing. Call it trauma.” You joked.
He smiled along with you, “So, say I wasn’t your instructor…”
Cutting him off quickly you felt your blood run cold, “You’re not going to kick me off the squadron are you?” your panicked look made him feel awful
He shook his head quickly, “No, no never. It’s a hypothetical.”
You sighed softly, “Sorry.” You felt an overwhelming amount of embarrassment consume you. You’d worked so hard to get to where you are that even a little bit of an inkling of a threat sent you into overthinking mode. You weren’t proud of it by any means. It was something you were working on.
“It’s fine.” He smiled feeling your tension just radiate off your body. He seemed to pick up on anything relating to you. Again, he had to wonder. What the hell was wrong with him?
“Would you be as nervous around me if I wasn’t your instructor?” He quirked up a brow all too curious to hear your answer.
You laughed softly, “Yes, I would.” It was starting to become easier to talk to him. But he still intimidated the hell out of you. You hadn’t a clue how to navigate your superior being hot as hell. Normally they were old dudes who had kids your age. Not Maverick.
He huffed in almost frustration. He appreciated thar you were being honest with him, but he wasn’t sure what it was about him, “But why?”
You shrugged, “Still an authority, Captain.”
He placed a hand a little too close to yours, “You seemed just fine with Cyclone earlier.” He leaned in almost challenging you. He loved talking to you, but this conversation had gone of for too long now. Curiosity was literally killing the cat.
You nodded along with him, “Well yeah, that’s different.”
He looked at you incredulously, “How?”
It slipped out before you really meant to say it, “He’s married.” And then it was out there. It didn’t take Pete long to put two and two together. You were basically screaming that he was off limits and that Pete wasn’t. You didn’t mean to all but admit it but here you were. Heart hammering in your chest.
“I mean. He’s established. He’s not my direct authority. You know what I mean?” Even you didn’t know what you meant. You were caught red handed. Hand in the cookie jar. Damn. It is what it is now.
Mav shook his head with a lopsided grin, “I think I know exactly what you mean Y/N.” He also knew you’d never outright admit it either. He realized just how damn weird the whole thing was for you as well. He was your superior. You couldn’t cross that line either. Not unless you knew for sure that it was alright. The game the both of you were playing was dangerous. Very dangerous.
Thick tension hung in the air. You hadn’t a clue what to say to your instructor after accidentally telling him the real reason he made you so nervous. Not outright spilling the truth but putting making it rather obvious in your wake instead.
“I should get going.” You stood from the table you were sitting on.
He mimicked your actions, “Should you?”
Nodding your head you gave him a flash of a smile, “Yeah, long day tomorrow. You said so yourself. Right?” Raising your eyebrows, you knew you had him there.
His otherworldly smile lit up his face. God, he was so handsome. That just wasn’t fair.
“Right. Sleep well Y/N. See you in the morning.”
“You too Pete.” You weren’t sure why you used his first name, but it felt right. Felt like a step you wanted to take for yourself.
You didn’t catch the furious blush that rose to his cheeks at that. He knew he needed to pull back immediately, or he’d get himself, or you, in trouble. He couldn’t be blushing around Cyclone when you came around. He’d just have to ignore it. He could do that. Or so he thought he could.
Maverick must have gotten in your head. The next day was... less than stellar. You had a bad day. A very bad day. You landed without a single victory. With Rooster shooting you down for the second time that afternoon.
Sitting in the jet cockpit of the hangar you’d pulled your helmet off without much thought and just sat there. Thinking. You were fine yesterday. What the hell happened today? You’d been shot down five times. Twice by Hangman, twice by Rooster and once by Phoenix. You weren’t even close to shooting them down.
You were too eager with you grip making dumb rookie mistakes. Mistakes that’d have you shot down in an instant up in the air. All of them were able to see it and exploit it. A bad day. That’s all it was. It didn’t make you a bad pilot. Not in the slightest. You had to remember that. Drop today and remember how good you really were.
“Are you going to come down Lieutenant?” That voice broke you from the thoughts that were seemingly tormenting you in the cockpit. The ones that kept seeming to tell you that you weren’t good enough. You might’ve been the best at your home base but not here. No. You were average amongst the best.
Your eyes snapped open. Pete? What was he doing down there? He hardly came out here after training, “Yeah.” You answered quickly not wanting to leave him waiting. He wasn't one for patience, “Just thinking.” You knew you needed an excuse or he would press. No matter how lame it may be. But it wasn’t a lie. You really were just thinking.
He didn’t say a word as you came down the ladder. When you got a good look at him he almost looked, angry? His lips were drawn in a thin line. He had a hard time looking at you. Eyebrows stitched too close together for him to be in a good mood.
“What the hell was that?” His normally chipper tone had vanished. He sounded too much like an instructor now. He didn’t even sound like the Maverick you had gotten to know. No, a drill sergeant instead. He noticed your expression change as you realized this wasn’t going to be a fun conversation.
He felt bad doing such a 180 on you like that. But he had to, for your sake. Or so he thought.
“I’m not sure sir… I...” You stammered trying to come up with something. He’d already made you nervous and now this? You were a blubbering mess. Sure to look like the fool of a woman you knew they were likely expecting of you. See, the men could make mistakes. You couldn't. Women couldn't.
“Not a single kill today Lieutenant?” His voice stayed icy as you stood there forward like he was a drill Sargant. It suddenly felt like you were back in basic training all over again.
You looked down in what felt like shame, “No, Captain.” The voice that came out of you sounded weak. Likely because you felt weak. You didn’t feel like you were good enough to be here. Like all those kills you got against Hangman and Rooster prior to this day was just all just luck. Straight luck. Rationally, you knew better. You knew how good of pilot you were. You wouldn’t be good enough to get here. But your own mind was playing tricks on you. Planting seeds that should’ve never been dug.
He pressed further not seeing that he was beginning to push you past your breaking point. Further than even you would have expected from him. Your head was already coming down too hard on yourself. His words only seemed to dig that dagger in a little further that drove the final nail in the coffin of your confidence.
“What’s the problem then Lieutenant?” He stepped closer, challenging you. You weren’t in the right headspace for this. Not in the slightest.
You shook your head slowly, “I don’t know Mav.” Looking down at your boots you couldn’t bear to look up at his disappointed expression. You were just trying to hold back the tears at this point.
“You don’t know?” He sounded patronizing as if he was talking to a toddler.
“I…no.” Your voice was too shaky, so you stopped. Collect yourself. You could do this. You’ve done this hundreds of times before.
He must’ve not noticed the tears that were threatening to spill over as you looked up at him finally, “I can’t put somebody on a team who doesn't know what's going on. I need somebody who knows what they do wrong!" His voice grew from anger to frustration as he spoke. Yet he failed to see your utterly devastated gaze as he went on and on about things you had already known. Each word felt like a knife as he continued on, "You won't get a second chance on this mission. If you get shot down you're as good as dead."
Your heart ran cold, feeling as though it was shattering into a million pieces right then and there, “You don’t think I know that sir?” Your voice nearly broke as it wobbled through trying to finish the sentence.
He’d certainly noticed it then as his eyes finally found your tear stained cheeks. He usually knew how hard he could push. He could usually push you a whole lot harder, but he’d gone too far today. He knew when he heard that unusual waver in your voice.
He hadn't planned it but he knew he needed to back off, “It’s a bad day. It happens. Shake it off Birdie." The words come out of his mouth so fast he was sure you felt like you were getting whiplash from his hot and cold behavior. One moment he was nearly flirting with you then the next he scolding you.
He didn’t mean it. Not a bit of it. He didn’t even like being an asshole to Hangman, although it was fun sometimes. Being one to you made him feel awful. But he had to. He wasn't kidding when he said you didn't get second chances out there.
You shook your head, “I’ll do better tomorrow. I don’t know…”
He cut you off by placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. He hadn’t noticed how wound up about the day you had already been. He didn’t mean to push you further. He was just trying to be the instructor you needed to succeed on this mission that didn't have amazing outcomes.
This was the opposite of being tough on you though, “It’s fine Y/N. Go home. Read a book or watch some TV. Come back tomorrow. You’ll be just fine.”
You looked at his hand on his shoulder before looking at him, giving him a curt nod, “Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You turned to walk away, brushing the tears away from your eyes.
Before you could walk through the locker room door you tuned back to him. After today you weren't sure if you even deserved the consideration,“You shouldn’t pick me.” You said so quiet you weren’t even sure if he heard it.
By the way he walked right over he must have. He grabbed your arm suddenly, not forcefully by any means, “Don’t say that. Why would you say that?” He genuinely felt awful for pushing too hard now. This didn't seem like you. You were headstrong. Stronger than even he seemed.
You looked down almost ashamed to admit it to him, “Because… because I’m not good enough sir. You saw me out there today. I'm as good as dead.” You were supposed to be the best of the best, but you hardly felt like it today. You were getting your ass handed to you left and right. Hangman was laying it on thick today too. He did that whenever he got the chance.
The day started bad when Rooster knocked you out almost immediately. And only got worse on subsequent runs. You were zero for four by the time you went up for the last round of the day. You got in your own damn head. It happened. It happened to everyone. You knew it. Still didn’t make it sting worse when you were on your thousandth pushup for the day.
He shook his head grabbing your hand quickly, “What are you talking about? You’re one of the best pilots I’ve ever worked with. You’re a fucking menace out there Y/N.”
You shook your head, “You’re just saying that because I’m about to cry.” You wanted to believe him. Maybe any other day you’d believe him. It was a no good, very bad day for you.
He only dropped his hand from your arm to bring it to your shoulder once again, giving it a gentle squeeze, “I’m not. I’m really not. Believe it or not.” He sighed collecting his thoughts once more, “I’m sorry. Really. I only come down hard on you because I know you can handle it. But I need you to not think like that. If you do get picked I need your head screwed all the way on. It’s not your run of the mill mission and you know that. You’ve got to be all the way there. All the way present. You hear me?”He asked.
You turned your head to look up to him, “Yeah. I hear you.” Your voice was much more you, more controlled.
He didn’t quite believe you though so he continued, “You are an exceptional pilot Y/N. The rest of the squad needs you to be. Bad days happen. Don’t let that asshole get to you.”
You smiled for the first time that day. It felt good talking with him. Actually, talking and not being afraid of him. A dramatic shift from that of moments ago, “You got it. Thanks Mav.” You wanted to thank him as a friend. Maybe a potential suitor. Not as a student. Not as a subordinate. But as a person.
He smiled for the first time that day as well. He had a long way yet to go with you, but it was a start. Something. He knew one thing that was sure. He was excited to get this damn mission over with. He didn’t want to be your superior anymore. He wanted to be your co-worker. The person you turned and laughed with whenever the most outrageous orders were given. He wanted to get there, was determined to get there.
“Sure thing, Y/N.” He let his hand fall, “See you at the Hard Deck tonight?” He asked curiously.
“You’re coming?” You’d seen him there the first night. You’d thought he was the most handsome thing in the bar. Hangman did not. Kept giving you shit for giving the ‘old man’ eyes. Whatever. You hadn’t seen him at the bar sense that night though. But he knew you guys went every Thursday. He listened.
“Maybe.”
You smiled once more, “You should. It’d be fun to see you kick Hangman’s ass in trivia.”
He laughed, a genuine one, one he hadn’t felt in quite some time, “How do you know I’m any good at trivia?”
You shrugged, “Have a feeling. Hope to see you tonight Pete.” The wink you sent him sent butterflies aflame throughout your body. Where in the hell did that confidence come from?
Pete legs went to jelly for a second as he watched you walk away. That you would. He was sure of it.
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