#javy coyote machado x you
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And I Want To Make Her Mine
Summary: Javy thought it was too good to be true when he saw you, the girl he had crushed on for almost a year, standing in the Hard Deck. But there you were, looking just as beautiful as you always had. He thought maybe he’d finally get his chance with you after all this time. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one whose attention you caught.
Pairing: Javy Machado x Reader (no use of y/n)
Warnings: Language, somewhat suggestive thoughts. The Blonde One™️.
Word Count: 3.9K
Notes: Written for @roosterforme's '80s Rocktober challenge using the song Jessie’s Girl by Rick Springfield. Sorry it’s so late, Em! But hopefully some Javy content makes up for it.
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Javy stood at the bar, waiting for Penny to bring him the beer that he ordered. He was the first out of his friends to arrive and he figured that there was no point in waiting for them. It had been a long week, and he was ready to unwind for the weekend before doing it all again come Monday. A flash of color caught his eye and he looked over for a moment, only to do a double take and have the wind damn near knocked out of him. He stuttered out your name as shock coursed through his veins. He had to be seeing things, he thought. But then your head turned, and those eyes he remembered so well widened in surprised recognition.
“Oh my God. Javy?!”
“Holy shit,” he breathed, shaking his head to try and clear it. His heart sped up in his chest when you wrapped your arms around him in a tight, but way too brief, embrace. “Hi. What-what are you doing here?”
“I transferred to North Island, I start my new post on Monday morning,” you told him as you pulled away, smiling brightly. “Wait. Are you stationed here?”
“I am,” he said, his smile matching yours.
He couldn’t believe his luck that this was happening right now. You had been an administrative assistant at his last duty station, and he had harbored a crush on you for the year that he had been there. You were always friendly with him, matching his flirting at the same level, and the two of you had even grabbed drinks a few times, albeit with other people in attendance. He had never bucked up the courage to ask you out, but had promised himself he would finally bite the bullet as soon as he got back from his last deployment. He had the whole thing planned - dinner and dancing on the pier - only to never be able to actually follow through after orders of a permanent assignment at Top Gun. He had never expected to see you again, yet now you were here, standing right in front of him.
As Javy quickly scanned your face, he took notice of how you were still just as breathtaking. He couldn't help but let his eyes linger on you for a moment too long. You were wearing a simple pair of jeans and a tank top, the clothing hugging your curves in all the right places. He could feel his cheeks heating and quickly looked back up to meet your eyes.
"Wow, small world," he said with a chuckle. "It's good to see you again."
"It's good to see you too," you replied, your smile never faltering. "It's been what, a year?"
"Too long," he said, feeling a little tongue-tied. He noticed that you didn’t have a drink in your hand just yet and opened his mouth to ask if he could maybe buy you one when a hand clapped roughly onto his shoulder, a familiar head of blonde hair saddling up beside him.
“Well well well, who do we have here?”
Javy turned to see Jake grinning mischievously, his green eyes trained on you. He felt his stomach twist nervously, knowing that look in his best friend’s eye all too well. Begrudgingly, he gave a quick introduction. "She was stationed down in Florida with me, but is transferring here. We were just catching up," he said, trying to steer the conversation back to you and him.
“Nice to meet you," Jake said, flashing you a charming smile. “It’s an absolute sin that you don’t have a drink in your hand, darlin’. You mind if I fix that for you?”
His eyes widened and panic washed over him when he realized what it was Jake was doing. Either his best friend hadn’t recognized that Javy was about to do the same thing or he simply didn’t care. Either way, he was shooting his shot, and much to his own dismay, you were laughing at the line the blonde had served you. He stared at him with a clenched jaw, missing the way you glanced at him first, a moment of silence passing before you agreed to the proposition.
Before he even really knew what was happening, Jake was placing a hand on the small of your back and turning to the bar to order you a drink. At the same time, the rest of his friends arrived, and Javy was dragged into a conversation with Phoenix and Rooster about something that had happened earlier that day. He kept trying to wrap up the conversation without being rude, and when the two fellow aviators finally retreated to the pool table, he breathed a sigh of relief. He turned back to where you and Jake had been leaning against the bar completely intending on reasoning his conversation with you and hopefully nudging his best friend out of the way. But when he laid eyes on you, his heart sank.
You were laughing at something Jake said, your body leaning into his. Your smile was wide and your face happy, and it was so clear that you were enjoying yourself. You brought your hand up to rest against Jake’s bicep as you threw your head back and laughed, and it felt almost like he was being punched in the face.
Instead of interrupting like he had intended, he threw the rest of his drink back and left the bar.
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Javy knew he would only get away with ignoring Jake for so long, and he was proven right first thing Monday morning when he was changing into his uniform after hitting the gym on base before their morning brief.
“Where’d you disappear to on Friday night?”
“Didn’t feel good all of a sudden,” he mumbled in response, and really, he wasn’t technically lying. He still felt sick imagining you with him, and he had spent all weekend moping about it.
“That why you dodged my texts, too?”
“Yup.”
Jake snorted, clearly amused by the answer, and Javy felt a flare of annoyance course through him.
“Well you missed a good night. That girl you introduced me to is something else. Did you know she was from Texas?”
Javy did know that, and he was suddenly incredibly resentful that Jake did, too. It was something that he would have in common with you, and just another reason why he was sure the blonde might be more appealing. From what he remembered, you loved talking about home.
“We were thinking of grabbing dinner this week, you sh-“
Javy slammed his locker shut with more force than intended, the sound of metal clanging echoing in the open room. Jake raised his eyebrows in surprise, but Javy paid him no mind as he finished zipping his flight suit. “Good for you, man. Hope y’all have a great time.”
He checked the blonde’s shoulder on his way out the door, ignoring the call of his name and the “what the fuck” that followed.
When he walked into the briefing room a few minutes later, he stopped short of his seat. You were standing at the front of the room flipping through papers with Admiral Simpson. You glanced up once you handed the senior officer what he needed and met his eyes. Your face lit up and you waved happily. Javy wasn’t able to stop the tug at his lips, even if it was tinged with sadness. He raised his hand to wave back - you really did have the best smile.
Then Jake entered the room behind him, and Javy had to wonder who it was you were directing it to to begin with.
_______
Javy knew that he was staring. He couldn’t help himself, not when you looked that good. You were sitting at a table in the back of the bar, shamelessly drinking a glass of sparkling wine in a bar that usually only saw beer and whiskey. You wore one of those flowy skirts that fluttered around your calves, a graphic t-shirt tied in a knot above your belly button. Your hair was down and a little wild and your skin seemed to glow under the fluorescent lights. But it was your smile that really drew him in. It was blinding, radiant, and the most beautiful thing he thought he had ever seen.
But it wasn’t aimed in his direction.
No. Instead, you were smiling at his best friend.
He wanted to look away, to stop torturing himself like this, but he couldn’t. It had been a few weeks since you had come to California, and Javy hadn’t gotten used to the sight of Jake beside you. Here, in the cafeteria at work, even walking down the hallway a few times. It was a constant reminder that he had missed his shot.
He knew he had no right to feel this way. After all, he had never made a move on you, never even hinted at his feelings. Jake had been the one to pursue you, and clearly, he had succeeded. Too bad that didn’t stop Javy’s mind from drifting to what could have been. He wondered what it would be like to be the one to make you smile like that, or the one who was allowed to wrap his arm around you and pull you close. He pictured himself leaning in to steal a kiss, to taste the Prosecco on your lips, to feel the warmth of your body against his or whisper something in your ear that made you shiver.
He was drawn to you in a way that he couldn't explain, and he found himself wanting to stay there, watching. But then you threw your head back and laughed at something he couldn’t hear, and he knew he had to snap out of it.
He downed the rest of his beer in one gulp and stood from the stool he had been perched on, not even bothering to say anything to the rest of his friends as he walked back to the bar. Maybe it was time to move on, to let go of this hopeless crush he’d been harboring and focus on finding something new. The best way to start that, he rationalized, was getting another drink.
He put his order in with Penny, smiling kindly when she slid a fresh pint glass across to him. “Thanks, Penny. Put it on my tab?”
“It’s already paid for,” she told him.
“What?”
She nodded behind him as she moved on to the next customer, and the wink she gave him seemed almost like she was in on something that Javy was entirely missing. He turned in the general direction of where she was indiciating, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His eyes met yours almost immediately. You smiled at him brightly as you waved. Despite everything he had just said, that smile aimed in his direction sent his heart racing.
Javy sighed when you started beckoning him over. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he could handle being so close to you with how his thoughts were currently racing. He was surprised when he took note of Jake no longer being beside you, and a quick glance showed him walking in the direction of the dart board where Rooster and Fanboy were standing. It was the first time the blonde hadn’t been at your side when you were in the same vicinity since you had come into town, and he felt like a terrible friend when it made his decision a little bit easier. At the very least, he could thank you for the drink.
He tried to keep his face neutral even as his heart rounded in his chest as he made his way over to your table. "Hey,” he said, forcing a smile and trying to sound casual.
“Hey, Javy,” you grinned, and you sounded genuinely happy to be speaking to him. You patted the seat beside him, telling him to sit. He did so after a moment of hesitation, and being so close to you immediately had him reeling. “Where have you been hiding?”
“Hiding?”
“I’ve barely seen you since I ran into you here! It feels like you’re dodging me,” you laughed as you took a sip of your drink, and Javy felt his face heat. He hadn’t thought he was being obvious in how he was avoiding both you and his best friend as he worked through the emotions he was feeling.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’ve just been….busy.”
“Ah.” You didn’t look like you were buying it, and Javy didn’t blame you. It was a weak excuse, and he had to mentally slap himself for not coming up with something better than that. But you didn’t look mad, either. If anything, to his confusion, maybe the look you gave him was even a little amused.
“Well, I hope you’re not too busy for a round of pool,” you said with a cheeky grin. “I’m itching to beat you.”
Javy couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at your tone. It was one of the things that had always drawn him to you. You were so happy and playful. Still, he glanced over at the dart board before looking back at you. He cleared his throat lightly. “Not darts?”
“No,” you answered simply.
“Teams, then?” He pushed. He wasn’t exactly sure why he was doing it to himself.
You shook your head and he swore you leaned just the slightest bit closer to him. “No teams. Just us. Are you up for the challenge?”
He took a deep breath and thought it over for just a second. The smart thing would be declining and getting up and walking away to save his own feelings. But you were smiling so sweetly at him and from this close, he could smell your sweet perfume, and your skin looked so soft. He took a somewhat shaky breath and took a sip of the drink in his hand, before he let a smirk cross his face.
“I don’t know. You might regret asking me to play against you.”
You laughed so prettily, your hair shaking around you when you threw your head back.
“Is that a threat, Lieutenant Machado?”
It felt so reminiscent of how the two of you used to talk to each other that Javy couldn’t help but lean into it. He shook his head with a smile. “No, just a warning.”
You laughed again and stood up, grabbing your drink and motioning for him to follow you. You sent him a wink that went right through him. “Well, let’s see if you can handle me.”
The words sent a shiver down his spine. He followed you to the pool table, his eyes locked onto your hips as they swayed in front of him, and he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have them pressed against him. He shook his head, trying to push those thoughts away and focus on the game at hand. You set your drink on the table and grabbed a cue stick, holding it out for him to take.
“You break,” you said, your eyes daring him, but for what he wasn’t really sure. Javy took the stick from you, his fingers brushing yours briefly, sending a jolt of electricity up his arm and straight to his heart.
He took a deep breath and stepped up to the table, positioning himself carefully before taking the shot. The balls scattered across the table, and Javy watched as the white ball sank a solid, followed quickly by a stripe. You clapped your hands together, a wide smile on your face.
“Looks like we have a game on our hands,” you teased, leaning over the table to take your shot. Javy couldn't help but watch the way your body moved as you lined it up, sinking a solid easily in one of the corner pockets.
As the game went on, Javy's focus began to wane. He was too distracted by you, by the way you moved, the sound of your laughter, the warmth of your body when you brushed against him. He found himself wanting to touch you, to feel you closer, to know what it was like. He was getting lost in the way you moved, and how your eyes lit up when you made a particularly good move.
For a while, he could pretend that he had a shot.
“Victory!”
Javy groaned as you yelled out your success once the final ball was sunk. You threw your arms up in triumph, a bright smile on your face as you turned to face him. He couldn’t help but smile at your excitement, even though he had just lost in a somewhat embarrassing fashion.
“That did not go the way I anticipated.”
You laughed at his disgruntlement, the sound ringing like music in his ears. “Thanks for playing with me,” you said, “I had fun.”
“Me too,” Javy replied, smiling softly. “Although I think you might have hustled me a little bit.”
You grinned, shaking your head. “I’m just good at pool.”
Javy chuckled. “You’re good at a lot of things.”
You drew your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked at him, not saying anything in response. He worried, for a moment, that he had said too much. Silence passed between the two of you. It was like there was something unspoken hanging in the air, something that both of you could sense but neither of you could quite put into words. He swallowed hard, trying to push the feeling aside. He didn't want to ruin the moment, not after how much fun he had just had with you.
Finally, you took a deep breath, and he swore it sounded a little shaky. You grabbed your drink and took a sip, looking at him over the rim of the cup. “I’m glad we did this.”
“Me too,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
But like a physical reminder that all good things have to come to an end, he caught a glimpse of Jake watching you from across the bar. There was a strange look in his best friend’s eye, something that looked almost like excitement, but Javy couldn’t quite decipher what it meant. Still, he could feel the weight of it settling in his stomach.
He cleared his throat, setting his pool cue down to lean against the wall. This time, the smile he sent you was strained. “I should let you get back to Jake.”
To his surprise, a look of confusion crosses over the delicate features on your face. You glance behind you to where the blonde is before looking back at him, your eyebrows furrowed together. “What do you mean?”
He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the knot in his stomach. “I know you two have been…spending time together,” he said, and despite how hard he tried, the words tasted sour in his mouth.
“I mean, yeah. But…wait.”
Your pretty eyes widened and you shook your head, your hair shaking as a grin started spreading across your face. Javy felt more confused than he had all night, and for some reason, embarrassment was starting to settle in, too.
“What?”
“Oh gosh. Javy. Me and Jake?”
“I…yes?”
You broke out into a surprise bout of laughter, the sound like bells ringing in his ears. Your hand found his arm and you gave it a squeeze before letting it rest against his bare skin below where his shirt sleeve ended. Your hand felt so soft. He wanted you to keep touching him. "Oh, Javy. No. I thought Jake was kidding when he said that’s why you were probably dodging us left and right.”
The pieces weren’t quite connecting as his mind fought to catch up, having gotten distracted by your touch. He floundered for what you were saying to make sense, but he came up short. “I…am so confused.”
Your laughter peeled off into quiet giggles before quieting all together, and your face softened into something that looked understanding and hopeful at the same time. You took a step closer to him. His breath caught as his heart started to pound in his chest.
“Jake and I are just friends, Javy. That’s all.”
His pulse continued to race as hope set in. He played over every interaction that he had witnessed between the two of you over the last few weeks, realizing that maybe he had been a little blinded by the jealousy he had felt. He knew how Jake flirted and how he acted with women that he was into. Aside from that first night at the Hard Deck when he had introduced you, that intimacy had been absent. Instead, now that he thought about it, it had been a comfortable familiarity, not different from how they interacted with Nat or Halo or Rooster’s girlfriend.
He was starting to feel like an idiot.
“Really?”
“We have a lot in common. We talk about home a lot. But…I’m not into him. Someone else had already caught my eye.”
He swallowed thickly, still not allowing himself to completely believe it. Your fingers still traced light circles on his arm. “Someone else?”
You giggled softly, and then you raised on your toes and leaned in. There was a moment of hesitation, as if you were both waiting for the other to make a move, before you took it upon yourself to close the distance and your lips met his in a soft, tentative kiss. It was featherlight and over before his brain could even register it had happened. You were still smiling at him when you pulled away, your eyes glinting with amusement. You nodded slowly, whispering to him, “Someone else.”
The words sent a jolt of electricity through him, his hand finding its way to the small of your back as he pressed his lips to yours again. Javy’s hands slipped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as the kiss intensified. It was like a spark had been ignited, and suddenly the kiss was deepening, becoming more passionate.
The rest of the bar seemed to fall away as you both lost yourselves in each other. Neither of you heard the excited yell of “finally” come from over at the dart board, completely caught up in the moment. Javy couldn’t believe that this was happening, that he was here with you, kissing you. Finally, indeed.
Finally, the need for air became too much and the two of you pulled apart, gasping for breath. You looked up at him, your eyes filled with a warmth that made his heart skip a beat.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” you admitted, biting your lower lip between perfectly white teeth. Javy’s chest swelled with affection and he leaned in to kiss you again, this time with more certainty. He felt the warm pressure of your lips on his, and the sensation was intoxicating.
“Let me buy you a drink,” he said once he pulled back. He had been wanting to do so for weeks, now, and it seemed it was his own fault that he hadn't, yet.
You brushed your nose against his, nodding. “I’d like that.”
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Main Masterlist
Notes: I love this man so much. Hope you enjoyed this one as much as I enjoyed writing it!
#alli writes#javy machado appreciation#javy machado#javy machado x reader#javy coyote machado#javy machado fic#javy machado imagine#javy machado x you#javy coyote machado x you#coyote x reader#javy coyote machado x reader#tgm fic#top gun fanfiction#top gun imagine#top gun rocktober
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Sailor-Aviator's Masterlist
Hi! Thanks for checking out my masterlist!
✨My blog is 18+ Only! I curse, write smut, and other dark elements that minors do not need to be dabbling in. I do my best to tag everything accordingly, but some of my darker fics include elements of non-con, violence, etc.
✨I currently write female reader-insert fics. I mainly write for Jake "Hangman" Seresin, but I write for other TGM characters as well from time to time. I have been thinking about branching out into other fandoms, but time will tell when that happens. In the meantime, take a seat and enjoy the fics!
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✨Requests are currently: Open! And always feel free to send in some thoughts/thots or random asks!
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A multi story series that takes place around the 1870s in the New Mexico territories of the west. Each series follows Jake Seresin, Bradley Bradshaw, and Bob Floyd with their respective partners as they navigate the west and their lives as outlaws.
Universe Masterlist
Series
A collection of series that I've written about Jake...
One-Shots
A collection of one-shots that I've written about Jake either on my own or by request...
Collections
A collection of concepts that I've written about Jake either on my own or by request...
Drabbles
A collection of drabbles that I've written about Jake either through asks or text posts...
Series
A collection of series that I've written about Bradley...
One-Shots
A collection of one-shots that I've written about Bradley either on my own or by request...
Collections
A collection of concepts I've written about Bradley either on my own or by request...
Drabbles
A collection of drabbles that I've written about Bradley either through asks or text posts...
Series
A collection of series that I've written about Bob...
One-Shots
A collection of one-shots that I've written about Bob either on my own or by request...
Collections
A collection of concepts that I've written about Bob either on my own or by request...
Drabbles
A collection of drabbles I've written for Bob either through asks or text posts.
Series
A collection of series that I've written for Javy...
One-Shots
A collection of one-shots that I've written about Javy either on my own or by request...
Drabbles
A collection of drabbles I've written for Javy either through asks or text posts...
Two Birds
Mafia!AU featuring Jake "Hangman" Seresin and Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, MxFxM, No Hangster.
Dagger Moodboards
Mythical Creatures
Revolutionary War
The Three Musketeers
The Mafia
The Gods
#sailor aviator masterlist#masterlist#top gun maverick#top gun hangman#bradley rooster bradshaw#jake hangman seresin#rooster top gun#hangman top gun#top gun fanfiction#bob floyd#robert bob floyd#jake seresin x reader#bradley bradshaw x reader#robert floyd x reader#javy coyote machado x reader#javy machado#javy machado x reader#javy coyote machado#javy machado x you#javy coyote machado x you
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False Confidence: Prologue
Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader
Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe
Summary: The Athletic named Javy Machado the fifth sluttiest player in the NHL last year. He’s a known playboy who leaves every game with a different girl. As far as he’s concerned he’s living the dream, playing his dream job with the dream lifestyle. Unfortunately his friends and bosses don’t agree. At 33, they think it’s time for him to settle down. You’re a kindergarten teacher at an esteemed private school. You don't expect much when you finally accept your colleague’s invitation to attend her husband’s hockey game but when you accidentally get separated in the post-game rush, you find yourself in a compromising situation with the last person you’d ever expected to meet. When his PR rep suggests a mutually beneficial agreement, your hands are tied. How long will you have to keep up the act? And how long will you be able to?
Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, sports violence, blood probably, angst, fluff, fake relationship, suggestive language, school system inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.
Word Count: 2.1k
A/N: Y’all I’m so excited for this series it’s not even funny!!! I hope you enjoy it as much as I am!
Series Masterlist // Next Chapter
You stare at the event on your calendar, willing it to disappear into the void. The words “staff meeting” glare back at you as you glance at the clock. Five more minutes. Maybe they’ll cancel. Maybe the sun will fall out of the sky. You nibble your lower lip before you can catch yourself. Your fingers worry the hem of your sweater, keeping time with the thundering of your heart. It’s fine. You’re okay. It’s just a staff meeting. After three years working at Acacia Academy, you’re more comfortable here than you’ve been in any job before, the product of time invested and the aid of a stable schedule, but sometimes you have days like this. Days when the pounding in your heart reaches your ears, echoing like the drum of an executioner signaling your imminent demise.
“Roadie?” Three minutes left and a familiar voice calls out your nickname. You force your lips to curl into a smile as you turn to the door of your currently empty classroom. Your colleague and perhaps your only work friend, Josie Fitch is leaning against the doorframe. She’s wearing the patient, sweet smile she’s always using on her rowdy fourth-grade class. “You ready to go? We have that staff meeting today, remember?” You nod, finding it harder to keep the smile on your face at the reminder of the meeting. Nevertheless, you force yourself to stand, smoothing a hand over your slacks before crossing the room to where Josie’s waiting. She slides her hand into yours, pulling you along after her to the teacher’s lounge and staff conference room.
When you reach the room, it’s already at least half full. Thankfully, Josie takes pity on you and slides into the last pair of chairs in the back of the room, leaving the seats at the front for the stragglers. Dan Jackson, the principal, is standing at the front of the room, hands clasped in front of him and a firm look on his face that makes you struggle not to fidget. Principal Jackson’s gaze drags over the room as the clock strikes three thirty and heaves a heavy sigh before clearing his throat.
“Regardless of attendance, let’s get started. After thoughtful consideration, the school will be implementing a new soft policy. In the face of our upcoming contract renewals and an effort to combat employee fraternization, we’ll be looking at relationship status as a qualification when deciding which contracts get renewed. While a stable relationship is not a hard requirement, as that’s not enforceable under the law, it will greatly help your case for re-employment. Your heart is beating so loudly in your ears that you can barely hear Principal Jackson as he continues. Josie seems to notice your distress and squeezes your hand gently. She doesn’t have anything to worry about since she’s been happily married for twelve years and she’s the mother of two beautiful children who are currently students at Acadia. Not for the first time, you wonder why you didn’t just take a job at a public school. You wouldn’t have to deal with these borderline illegal policies and all the politics that come with working for a private school that’s unregulated by a school board. Unfortunately, public schools are a nightmare for you. Hundreds of students, dozens of teachers, and large buildings make any kind of familiarity almost impossible. During your student teaching years, you worked in a public school and you were constantly on edge leading to your pivot into private schools. Sure the administration is almost always corrupt and the parents are entitled, but at least you know every one of your students and colleagues by name, and as long as you keep your head down, you stay out of trouble. And you’ve done exactly that. Despite the issues Principal Jackson’s speaking about regarding employee fraternization, you’ve been removed from that. No one pays you much attention. Well aside from Jeremy Dickinson.
Jeremy came to Acacia Academy the same year that you did and while you tend towards the fringes of social circles, he’s magnetic and constantly the center of attention. You have a sneaking suspicion that this meeting and new policy is actually a direct response to the negative side effects of said magnetism. Jeremy’s the one that gave you your nickname, Roadrunner or Roadie for short. You’re always dashing from place to place, trying to stay out of people’s way and he joked that you resembled the speedy cartoon character. Now more teachers refer to you by the nickname than by your real name and while it used to annoy you, you’ve taken to appreciating the kind of anonymity that the nickname gives you. If people want to see you as a caricature rather than a person, you’re alright with that as long as their eyes slide over you instead of lingering.
While you’ve been lost in your thoughts, the meeting has come to a close and you slump into your seat as the reality of your situation comes crashing down onto you. Josie’s giving you a concerned look that you do your best to ignore as you stand and head into the mass of people squeezing through the doorway, eager to head home for the day. Josie follows you but doesn’t speak up until you’re back in your classroom. “So, Roadie, what are your plans for the evening?” She’s deflecting, giving you the option to bring up the meeting yourself. You sigh heavily as you start to pack your belongings.
“Looking for a new job, apparently.” You answer with a hollow laugh. She frowns at that.
“You know that policy isn’t about you, right? That’s for people like Jeremy who can’t keep it in their pants. You’ve never dated anyone at school.” You’ve never dated anyone but that’s beside the point. Andrew St. James doesn’t count or so your high school therapist had assured you.
You shrug as you slide your laptop into your tote bag. “You heard Principal Jackson. He wants people in relationships working here. I’m not in a relationship, so I’m at a disadvantage.”
“So maybe you should get a boyfriend,” Josie suggests like it’s the easiest thing in the world and you feel a twinge of bitter jealousy in your chest. As if it’s that simple.
“That’s not going to happen.” You say with a tired shake of your head as you slide the bag onto your shoulder. Josie shrugs but lets the conversation drop.
“If you’re free tonight, you should come with us to the game.” Josie’s been trying to invite you to one of her husband’s games all season. Reuben Fitch is a winger for the newly formed San Diego Dogfighters hockey team here in San Diego. You don’t know the first thing about hockey and sports games are the last place you’d rather be so you’ve casually dodged the invitations over and over but today you’re simply too tired to keep shutting Josie down.
“Sure, why not.” You relent and Josie’s face lights up with excitement.
“Really?! Oh, that’s great, Roadie, the kids will be so excited that you’re coming! They keep begging me to bring you!” The Fitch kids, Jamie and Skylar attend Acacia Academy and thanks to your friendship with Josie and the fact that you’re Skylar’s teacher, you’re all thick as thieves. You’ve babysat for Reuben and Josie plenty of times, giving them some well-deserved time to themselves. As a hockey player, Reuben’s traveling for work almost as much as he’s home, and between that and wanting to be as present of a parent as possible he doesn’t have a lot of time to spend with his wife. Thankfully, Josie takes it in stride, leading her family with a poise you’re constantly impressed by while her husband is away and you’re more than willing to help where you can. While you’ve never been comfortable with your peers, you’ve always been comfortable with children. You think maybe it’s because they don’t expect you to be anything more than yourself. The younger the better in that respect and that’s why you teach kindergarten. Josie gives you the details for this evening, offering to drive you to the arena with them so you don’t have to bother with parking and you swallow hard as you make your way to your car trying to convince yourself that you haven’t just made a huge mistake.
***
You’re starting to wish you hadn’t taken up Josie on her offer. You’re sitting next to Skylar at the end of the row in case you need to make a quick escape. You’re up by the glass and the people in the next section are banging on it as the players zip around on the ice. The kids are caught up in the infectious energy buzzing through the Hard Deck arena. It’s got you dizzy with nerves. One of the Dogfighters slams one of the opposing team against the glass in front of you and you jump, stomach queasy. How anyone could enjoy watching let alone playing this sport is beyond you. You fiddle with the hem of your new sweatshirt that Josie insisted on getting you after the slightly chilly air in the arena was adding to your shivers. The Dogfighters logo is emblazoned on the olive green fabric and it’s ridiculously soft but that’s to be expected given its hefty price tag. You protested but Josie pointed out that she could probably get it discounted and maybe even reimbursed afterward due to her husband’s role on the team. The score is in the Dogfighters’ favor as the other team can’t seem to get on the board. Another player slams into the glass and you jump all over again, realizing this time it’s one of the opposing team shoving a Dogfighter. Despite the fact that he’s most likely going to wake up with an array of bruises you notice that he’s got a fierce grin on his face, dark eyes dancing dangerously as he pushes off the wall and giving chase to his assailant. You suppose you have to love the sport to play it for a living but you’re still struck by his expression long after the game has moved on.
***
The game ends with the Dogfighters shutting out Los Vegas 5-0 and the crowd is in good spirits pushing and shoving as they all try to exit the arena at once. You feel your body get shoved and jostled by a stray elbow and you stumble, righting yourself and realizing you’ve lost track of Josie and the kids. Panic climbs up your throat as you’re carried forward by the crowd as you whip your head from side to side, trying to find your group. You make it through the door and people jostle you every which way as you try and escape the crowd and find somewhere quiet to call Josie. You try to dull the panic as you fight against the stream of people, ducking down hallways, anything to get away from the crowds that are causing your heartbeat to echo in your ears yet again. Finally, you find yourself in some abandoned hallway and fish out your phone, cursing as you realize you don’t have service. You’re about to head back the way you came, anxiety pulsing through your veins when a voice startles you.
“Well, well, you’re definitely not supposed to be here.” You whip around, fear clenching your chest as you spot the man leaning against the wall. His posture is casual but his gaze is electric, curiosity dancing in dark brown eyes. You recognize him as the player you noticed earlier, the one who’d been thrown into the glass. He’s still in his equipment but he’s ditched the helmet, and now you have an unrestricted view of his face. He’s handsome, with a strong jaw and full lips that are currently pulled into a playful smirk. You stammer as you try to find your voice to explain what you’re doing here but he just chuckles, pushing off the wall and stalking towards you like a wolf approaching its prey. You’re pinned to the spot as he comes up, invading your personal space and you can smell the sweat on his skin and something else, a heady, spicier scent that tickles your nose. You’re sure you’re shaking like a leaf as he takes your chin in his hand, frozen from his brazen actions and unable to step away. His eyes search yours before his smirk widens.
“Lucky for you, beautiful, I like a girl who knows what she wants.” His eyes darken and you barely catch the glint in them before his mouth is on yours.
A/N: AAAAAAAAND WE’RE ON OUR WAY!! BUCKLE UP!!! If you’re not on the taglist and want to be, let me know!!!
#false confidence // sdd#fc // sdd#san diego dogfighters au#san diego dogfighters#san diego dogfighters hockey au#top gun maverick hockey au#tgm hockey au#top gun#top gun Maverick#TGM#javy machado#javy machado x reader#javy machado x you#javy coyote machado#javy coyote machado x you#javy coyote machado x reader#coyote x reader#coyote x you#no use of y/n
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bad liar
the daggers of love masterlist
premise: hooking up with your brothers best friend is not a mistake you wish to repeat. watching each other get off seems like the only viable option to restrain yourselves.
pairing: javy 'coyote' machado x seresin!reader
word count: 1.1k
warnings: eighteen+ content, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, coyote is a little tease, references to past hook ups, spit mention, pet names (bunny is readers nickname, baby), a touch of enemies with benefits, reader and jake are step siblings therefore reader is not written with any ethnicity in mind.
note: it's insane ya'll don't write for this pretty man more. but this is basically a prequel to the full fic i have planned for javy aka brothers best friend galore!
“You’re not playing fair, bunny.” Javy smirks at the scowl you give him for the childish nickname. His tongue runs along his bottom lip like the predator of his own nickname would its prey—coyote vs. bunny.
“I didn’t know you made the rules.” You retort, trying to act as unphased as one can with their hand between their legs, touching themselves in front of their brother's best friend.
His head falls to the side, giving you a cheeky look that makes your lower belly burn. “I mean, it’s not really fair when you’re doing this to keep my hands off of you, and I can’t see that pretty pussy that I want so badly.” His own leg that's bent, and on the couch, the two of you share kicks at your ankle gently. Trying to pull your legs apart, spread you for him so he can see between your thighs.
“Or I could just,” his hand leaves his cock, which is hard and leaking against his fingers, to lean forward and wrap itself around your calf.
“Javy!” You scold him, kicking his palm with your foot, your legs flailing for half a second to get him away from you and back to his spot on the other end of the couch. His laughter makes your own bubble up inside of you. “Stay on your side.”
“Then let me see you.” He leans against the arm of the couch, his fingers coming back to his cock. Thumb running along the head slowly before he strokes down, a hitch in his breath. “Please, baby.”
The dip your stomach does from the silly pet name, the way his chest falls heavy each time he moves over the head of his cock—flashbacks of the noises he made when he ran it through your wetness before pushing in and stretching you to the point of burning pleasure at your spine, the first few thrusts feeling like he was splitting you in two, Javy’s mouth hovering over yours, “I know you can take it, baby."
And why shouldn’t he feel as fucking wrecked as you do right now, when he’s not even inside of you? This was the whole point of this, wasn’t it, to get all your feelings out this way instead of actually sleeping together again.
Jake would kill the both of you. And while you hate labeling it a mistake, it’s not something you think should happen again for that very reason. You were notoriously bad at keeping secrets, and you’d like everyone to continue to think you found Coyote to be as annoying as the first day you met him—and not currently giving you the type of bedroom eyes that make you willing to risk your pride and the wrath of your brother to feel the weight of his cock against your tongue or his fingers in your hair guiding your pussy down onto his length.
So without another objective thought, you spread your legs, and while Javy was still adorning his gray shorts, you were completely bare from the waist down. The burning look that flashes over his face, like he’s starved and it’s taking everything inside of him to not connect his mouth where your fingers are currently rolling your clit, has you whimpering.
Your wetness completely on display for him. Showcasing the arousal that’s gathered against your thighs and coated your fingers and pussy. Any shyness you could possibly feel draining from your body thanks to your own desire and how he’s devouring you with his stare.
“You drive me crazy,” he says, half laughing, half groaning. Teeth rolling his bottom lip between them.
“Good, because the feelings are more than mutual.” You can’t even pretend to give him your regular flare of annoyance in your voice. Of hatred, because it’s drained from your body completely.
“I might be a little jealous if this is how your body reacts to someone you dislike as much as you claim to.”
“New rule, no talking.”
He chuckles. “Now you’re pretending like you don’t get off by every word I say? You’re just full of lies, aren’t you, bunny?”
“Don’t-”
“First you claim you hate me, but you were wet even before you started touching yourself. I didn’t even try to touch you, and I made that pussy wet.” He smirks, “and now you don’t like when I talk, when I specifically remember walking you through coming on my cock the last time you were wrapped around it. And your fingers haven’t stuttered once.” He locks his eyes on yours, “you wish you hated me, baby. So so badly, don’t you? It’s okay,” he teases.
If your cheeks weren’t on fire and your body completely inflamed from not only his dark eyes but his—annoyingly correct—words, you’d do something other than reach your foot out and hit his calf with it.
And you want to hide your face in the pillow at your back when you watch his neck bend to spit on the tip of his cock and rub it along his shaft, the soft squelch of your own bodily fluids that made a similar, more filthy noise the last time you were this wet—this in need.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
The longer your eyes lock, explore, and the more Javy opens his mouth, the closer you get to begging him for something that can’t happen.
The ache in your core only grows more and more intense, like there’s a fire in your insides, the longer you rub fast circles against your clit. Coiling up for a release that won’t even come close to satisfying in the way it would feel with Coyote’s hands replacing yours.
“All you need to do is ask, baby.” You hate that he knows what you’re thinking; the intensity you’re feeling as wrecked and heady as you are just from the prospect and desire of wanting—needing—him. While the animalistic look in his eyes and the soft grunts he’s letting out are making him look composed, as if he’s just waiting for you to ask. To beg him to fuck you.
You shake your head, an attempt at a scowl making him smile.
“Always such a good girl. Even when you’re so close to coming for me.” The muscles in his arm strain with each stroke to his cock, his hips pressing up each time you let out a noise. “It would still count as you making yourself come if you used my tongue. Fucked yourself against it. It’d feel so much better than your fingers, I promise.”
“Fuck,” you whimper. Your head in a repeated shake at this point; your own words are more of you trying to convince yourself of the truth that lies within them than Javy. “We can’t.”
"But we both know that you want to, don’t you?”
And without hesitation, as if it’s a muscle memory reaction, your body answering for you, you nod. “Fuck, yes.”
“God,” he groans. Exasperated and frustrated, the filthy sound more like a growl than anything else, and it makes you clench. Has you right at that precipice, “come for me. Remind me how pretty you sound saying my name.”
#javy machado x reader#javy coyote machado x you#javy machado#coyote x reader#javy coyote machado#javy machado smut#top gun smut#javy machado x you#top gun x reader#javy machado imagine#javy machado x y/n#coyote x you#coyote smut#coyote imagine#greg tarzan davis
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your love is the love i need || chapter 2/4
pairing: javy machado x femme reader (no y/n), callsign Cross
summary: Cross and Javy continue their charade, try not to think about the kiss, and share secrets of heartbreaks past
warnings: 18+, minors please DNI – even though there is no smut in this chapter, there will be some in the next
length: 7.3k
A/N: once again, thank you to my anons who send inspiration, and the people who let me brainstorm with them @daggerspare-standingby (also ty for beta-ing!) @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @peakyrogers💙
previous chapter
Sunday
It’d been a productive morning, which you were choosing to believe was because you were a productive person.
Absolutely not because if you sat still for more than two seconds you started panicking.
You cleaned your kitchen—not merely putting away dishes and swiffering the floor, no, you windexed the windows of your kitchen. Outside and inside.
You ran a load of laundry for the dagger squad—after a day of dogfight football and the news that the laundromat on base had flooded, they’d dropped sandy towels, tshirts, and swimsuits off with you, promising to pay you back with coffee.
You made dough for cinnamon rolls—it took 8 hours to rise in the fridge, and you could have a good answer for “what did you do this morning?” or “and what will you do for the rest of the day?”. And in the absolute worst case scenario, you could use it as an emergency escape plan if required, but you doubted it would come to that.
You turned your closet inside out, trying to decide what kind of image you wanted to present and ultimately deciding on a sundress with a light cardigan. You were wondering if it was too on the nose when you heard a car pull up outside.
Javy’s mom probably expected him to walk to the door to fetch you and, as fun and confusing as last night had been, that wasn’t how you wanted to start today. You locked your front door quickly behind you, and were sliding into the backseat of the car before Javy was able to get out of the driver’s seat.
“Good morning!” you sang, wondering if you sounded as fake-happy as you felt.
“Good morning,” Mrs. Machado said warmly, smiling over her shoulder at you. “What did you up to this morning?”
“Ah, not much,” you lied through your teeth, pulling on your seatbelt. “I did get started on a batch of cinnamon rolls, so that’s exciting.”
“Oh, do you bake much?” she asked.
“Not at all,” you sighed, wanting to lie, but also knowing you’d be doing enough of that today, so the truth slipped out easily. “I was just nervous, so I needed something to do.”
“Sweetie,” Mrs. Machado fully turned in her seat to smile kindly at you, “you don’t need to be nervous! I’m just pleased to have time with you and get to know the other special lady in Javy’s life.”
You smiled back at her like you were reassured, when the opposite was true. You looked nervously at Javy, to find his eyes on you in the rearview mirror. You didn’t recognize the expression on his face, which did nothing to calm the butterflies in your stomach from her words, so you looked away quickly, hoping you hadn’t blown this already.
“That’s,” Javy cleared his throat, checking over his shoulder before he turned the car around, “that’s a great dress.”
“Oh, thanks,” you mumbled, flattered that he’d noticed. You supposed you didn’t wear dresses that often around the squad, so it was probably something like a shock.
“Duckie,” Mrs. Machado chided softly, “you can do better than that.”
“Momma, I don’t need—” Javy grumbled, but broke off when his mother just lifted an eyebrow. His eyes met yours in the rearview mirror again, before they darted down to the reflection of your dress, and up again.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
And it was three words, three very simple ones, but they settled deep in your skin, the kind of compliment that made the sun shine warmer. Javy looked like he meant them, too, he looked earnest and honest, which was a combination you’d never stood a chance against.
“Thank you,” you said quietly, hoping you didn’t seem flustered. After all, surely Javy would give his actual girlfriend compliments like that all the time—but you got the feeling that if he told you the same three words every day for the next fifty years, you’d still glow from them.
You looked away first again, out the backseat window to watch the car pull over the Coronado bridge. There were runners in the pedestrian lane, bright neon splotches against the bay and the sky, the same shade of gray as the morning mist hovering over the sea. North Island blurred into La Jolla, and Javy dropped you and his mom off in front of Harry’s Coffee Shop, while he looked for a spot to park the car.
Mrs. Machado linked her arm through yours, as you walked up to the restaurant and asked for a table for three. They seated you at a brown leather booth in the back and you busied yourself with the menu before recognizing Javy’s voice as he spoke to the seating hostess. You expected him to slide in next to his mom, but he sat on your side of the booth, facing her. His arm went across the back of the booth, not quite touching you, but you could feel the warmth of him through the cotton of his henley all the same.
Mrs. Machado was studying her menu, but the corners of her mouth turned up suspiciously when you pushed your menu towards Javy.
“So,” she asked brightly, once a waiter had come to drop off waters and take your order, “I want to hear your version of how first you met my son.”
Of all the questions she could have asked, you were relieved she’d chosen one that would require little to no embellishment on your part. You glanced at Javy, who was fiddling with the wrapper of his straw, somewhat embarrassedly, before looking back at Mrs. Machado.
“Well, it was right after I was assigned to this detachment,” you began. “Some guy was being creepy to this girl at a bar, I called him out on it, he wasn’t backing down. Then Javy stepped in, flexed a bit, and the guy was humbled pretty quickly.”
Mrs. Machado’s jaw dropped, looking at Javy. “I thought you met while you were playing darts!”
“We did,” he said stubbornly, and it didn’t surprise you at all that he’d downplayed his role on that night. “She came over and beat Jake—you should’ve seen his face, Momma, it was hilarious.”
“That’s when we met,” you acquiesced. “But my first impression was before that, when this guy was in full Knight In Shining Armor mode.”
“Yeah, call me Lancelot,” Javy joked, winking at his mom, like it was easier to brag than accept praise. He’d started peeling strips in the paper wrapper, a little pile of confetti forming on the glass tabletop.
“More like Galahad,” you told Mrs. Machado, who looked at you fondly. “No, seriously, it was like something out of a movie. I half expected him to have some John Wayne line like ‘I think you’d better listen to the lady’, something like that.”
“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” Javy grumbled, and you shook your head.
“It was to that girl,” you insisted. “It was to me.”
You weren’t sure when you’d moved, but your hand was on his forearm, an unspoken emphasis of the weight and meaning behind your words, but you withdrew it quickly. He wasn’t looking at you, but you saw his jaw clench, looking down at the table; you looked back at Mrs. Machado, who was smiling proudly at her son.
“That’s my boy,” she said fondly.
You couldn’t help but smile at the clear affection between the two. A waiter came by with coffees, cleaning off the table and picking up Javy’s scrap pile. You felt the bench start to shake and you realized he was bouncing his leg—was he nervous? He couldn’t be. His mom seemed like the kindest person, and this story was pretty damn congratulatory.
But his leg kept moving, and it was making you nervous, so you shifted slightly, your leg resting next to his. You regretted it almost immediately—with his arm almost over your shoulders, and his long leg now pressed against yours, Javy was entirely too close to you for you to be able to complete full sentences. But his leg did still, so you figured that was better.
“Anyways, darts came after that,” you said, continuing the story. “Jake was beating him pretty embarrassingly, and I’d wanted to say thanks anyways, so I went over and introduced myself.”
Mrs. Machado poured some sugar and cream into her coffee, sliding the sugar jar down the table to you.
“Well, I’m glad I asked,” she said. “I figured there was more to the story than a bar game.”
“He may not have noticed me before then,” you shrugged, “but that’s when I saw him.”
“I noticed you,” Javy said quietly.
He didn’t seem to realize he’d said it aloud, but the table was quiet as you and Mrs. Machado stared at him. He looked between the both of you, lifting a shoulder lightly.
“Come on, are you kidding, of course I noticed you.”
And it warmed you, the same way his compliment in the car, that he’d say something so kind with absolute conviction. A tiny voice in the back of your head whispered that it wasn’t real, but his brown eyes held brightness and honesty, so you told that voice to stuff it, and turned back to Mrs. Machado.
“Well, there you have it,” you said, reaching to fix your own coffee.
Mrs. Machado smiled over the rim of her mug, looking between the two of you, before the conversation shifted. You talked about your hometown, what Javy was like growing up, how training was going between missions.
Safe conversation topics, topics without surprises.
Maybe that’s why you felt brave enough to lean back a little, relax into the warm leather of the booth, your shoulders brushing against Javy’s arm. Maybe that was why his hand dropped from the back of the booth, his thumb ghosting over the thin material of your cardigan.
The rest of the meal flew by, and you’d tried to break away after breakfast, but Mrs. Machado had insisted that you come with them as they walked around Balboa Park. So you joined them in playing tourist for the afternoon: picking out glass ornaments in the Spanish Village Art Center, coming up with names for the koi fish in the ponds at the Japanese Friendship Garden, struggling to pronounce Latin names in the Botanical Gardens.
Your phone died somewhere between the Casa de Balboa and the Old Globe Theater, and so it was Javy’s phone that you handed to strangers offering to take pictures of the three of you. The wind caught Mrs. Machado’s scarf as you were posing by the lily pond; Javy took off to chase it, and the kind tourists held out his phone to you, photo opp deferred. You thanked them, waving apologies for having interrupted their afternoon, as Javy leaned dangerously far over the pond, trying to snag where the scarf had tangled in some bulrushes.
You swiped through the pictures they’d taken, laughing at the stop-motion effect of the wind blowing her scarf away, but the pictures they got before then were cute. You minimized the camera by force of habit; you didn’t mean to look, but Javy’s background made your heart skip a beat.
It was a picture of the two of you.
Last month.
“This is the dumbest idea any of you have ever had,” Phoenix announced, to a roomful of ears that were absolutely not listening.
“Yes, but it’s team bonding,” Fritz said, dragging a stack of chairs across the Family Center. “You know how Mav feels about that.”
“THE dumbest idea,” Phoenix reiterated, “and, really, guys, that saying something.”
But she grabbed another stack of chairs.
Fanboy’s latest comfort youtube content was various Star Wars cast members on Hot Ones—the show where celebrities were interviewed while eating increasingly spicy chicken wings—and as a gag gift, Payback had gotten him a verified box of the hot sauce lineup. One thing had led to another, and now an industrial amount of wings had been delivered to the Family Center, while half the squad was raring to prove that they had the strongest tastebuds.
Or, at least, the most fireproof ones.
“So, Phoenix,” Rooster called, “is that your way of saying you’re not gonna join in?”
“Absolutely not,” she responded. “This is not a question I need answered.”
Everyone laughed, as you arranged chairs around a foldout table.
“Halo?” Hangman asked, lifting his hands in dismay when she shook her head. “What? Come on.”
“I feel like she’s protecting our dignity,” Bob said, as he carried over a couple gallons of milk and some paper cups.
Everyone looked at Callie, who smiled slightly.
“I was raised on Ma La Xiang Guo, guys,” she shrugged, pointing to a sauce with a literal skull and crossbones on the label. “I could brush my teeth with that stuff and be okay.”
“It’s all good,” Hangman said, with an impish smile as he looked between Phoenix and Halo, so you knew what he was about to say was just to goad them into reacting, “we all knew a man was going to win this anyways.”
And apparently it worked.
Because, without batting an eye, Phoenix announced, “Cross’ll do it.”
Your head whipped around as you heard your name spoken from down the table. “Cross will what now?”
“Welcome to the competition, Crossy,” Jake crowed, slapping a paper plate down in front of you.
You looked down at it. “Guys, I’m not—”
“Feminists everywhere are counting on you,” Phoenix said solemnly.
“Remember when you said this was a dumb idea?” Payback asked, and she waved a hand at him.
So that’s how you ended up sandwiched between Rooster and Harvard, eating wings doused with hot sauces that sounded like terrible porn star names, and hoping the lining of your stomach could take it.
It was fine, and then it suddenly really, really wasn’t.
Bob tapped out on the fourth one, bless him, and Omaha was out on the fifth. Rooster hung on for a couple more, Payback too, but by the time you were down to the final two sauces, it was you, Fanboy and Coyote.
“For our penultimate round, ladies and gentleman,” Hangman croaked, his voice hoarse from Da Bomb, the sauce that had knocked him out in round eight, “I present to you—Unique Garlique, by Puckerbutt Pepper Co.”
“That is not the name of the company,” you groaned, your eyes streaming.
You’d started crying around round six, and had accepted it as your fate. No way were you about to touch your eyes, and sweet Bob stood beside you with a tissue, patting at your face helpfully, but it really was no use.
“Tragically, he’s not,” Fanboy sighed, dabbing some sauce onto a wing, before passing the bottle to Coyote.
And honestly? Fuck him. Because you were actively weeping, Fanboy was sweating patches into his uniform, and Coyote looked like he’d maybe gone for a light jog. If anything, he was glistening, like some eau de perfume commercial from the early 2000s, and it really was ridiculous.
He handed the bottle to you, and you grimaced, reading the label. “How does something as innocuous as garlic somehow contain 642,000 Scoville heat units?”
“You can always tap out, if you need,” Hangman teased, and you wanted to flip him off, but that took more energy than you had to spare.
“I want you to know,” you told him, not looking up from the wing that was practically glowing with garlic poison, “that I’m channeling all of my pain into anger at you specifically, and I will win this damn thing on spite alone.”
“The American way,” Coyote said, cheersing his chicken messily into yours with supernatural enthusiasm, and then Fanboy’s.
You three took a bite.
You three chewed, thinking maybe it wasn’t so bad.
And then you three saw hell.
You could not drink enough milk, and Natasha was trying to be helpful by fanning you with a notebook, but somehow it felt like that was stoking the spiciness higher. Your mouth felt like it was actively on fire, and you were pretty sure your throat was closing up on itself.
“Holy shit,” Mickey wheezed.
“What if we just die,” Javy rasped, “what are they gonna tell our families?”
“Oh my god,” you mumbled. “Only one more, right? Then I have clear and convincing evidence that I am more of a man than Hangman could ever dream to be?”
Javy might’ve snorted beside you, but he also might’ve just been choking.
“Oh, babes, you passed that a while ago,” Callie said soothingly, rubbing your back.
“One more,” Bradley confirmed, and he slid the bottle down the table to the three of you.
The Last Dab, it was called.
You looked at the bottle—orange red, with a flame logo, and a lovely worded description that explained how it was the only hot sauce in the world made with the apollo pepper, and the Scoville heat units couldn’t even be calculated.
“Well, I have had a stunning epiphany,” Mickey said, slapping his hands on the front of his pants. “And that is that I straight up do not need this. I’m out.”
“Garcia’s out!” Omaha yelled.
“He yieldssssssssssssss,” Jake called, like he was an announcer at an internationally broadcasted sporting event, not standing in the middle of a team of dripping, miserable pilots.
You looked at Coyote.
At his ridiculously handsome face, with his ridiculously calm demeanor, with his ridiculously nonplussed expression, as he handed the bottle to you. “We doing this?”
You desperately wanted to say no.
Just go stick your head in a freezer or stand under a cold shower for the next three hours or drink your weight in orange juice until your body felt some semblance of normal. But Javy was looking at you like he was having fun, like he and you were the only ones in on this joke, and you weren’t about to walk away from that.
Also, feminism, peer pressure, all that.
“We’re doing this,” you sighed, coating the final wing.
He poured the sauce onto his wing resolutely, then shrugged, following the tradition of the show and dabbing an additional glob on top.
“Lagniappe, and all,” he muttered.
“Laissez les bon temps rouler,” you offered, those two phrases combined being the extent of the New Orleans slang that you knew. Javy flashed a smile at you as you clunked your chicken wings together in a cheers, then took a synchronized bite.
God, it was awful.
Truly horrendous, mind-bogglingly painful, and if you hadn’t already been openly weeping, this would’ve done it. The squad was going crazy. You were pretty sure Natasha was taking pictures, Jake was being an exceptionally good sport and had started clapping and the whole room was yelling, cheering like you’d won dogfight football, and for a moment, you felt it—you were on the team.
Javy caught the scarf.
He returned, brandishing the colorful fabric like a banner, and Mrs Machado patted his cheek as he helped wind it about her shoulders again. You didn’t say anything about the picture, turning off the display on his phone, before you handed it back to him, and tried to forget about it for the rest of the day.
Mrs. Machado had an evening flight and there were a few more things that Javy had wanted to show her before she left, so you thought that now would be the perfect opportunity to give them some time alone, and use your cinnamon roll excuse. You borrowed Javy’s phone to call yourself a ride, and bid your goodbyes to your fake boyfriend’s mom. She held you so close when she hugged you goodbye, making you promise to text Javy once your phone had battery again, letting them know you’d gotten safely home, and you felt guilty the whole ride back to your place.
Maybe that’s what all this was—an extension of your guilt.
Guilt had you so on edge that you’d imagined Javy being calmed by your touch this morning. And he’d probably kissed you last night because it was part of convincing his mom. And his phone background—well, the phone background was hard to explain.
It looked like the picture had been taken right before that final wing, at the impromptu competition last month. A nervous smile was on your face and you’d closed your eyes bravely. Beside you, Javy was laughing at something you’d said, his eyes on you, his expression one you didn’t remember.
But, maybe you’d remembered that wrong too.
You’d only looked at the picture for a couple of moments, and maybe there was something you hadn’t seen—Jake acting a fool or something funny that would make sense for Javy to keep it as a background.
Guilt and emotional exhaustion made a hell of a cocktail, so you let autopilot take over as soon as you got home. Plugged your phone in, rolled out cinnamon rolls, put them in the oven, cleaned the kitchen while they baked, set them on a rack to cool and clipped your hair up before you hopped in the shower. You were almost done with the arduous process of moisturizing your whole body when there was a loud knock on your door.
You made a face at your foggy reflection in the over-the-sink mirror; someone must’ve gotten the wrong address for one of your neighbors. As you readjusted the towel under your arms to continue rubbing lotion into your legs, the knocking continued.
“Wrong apartment,” you called, hoping they’d realize their mistake soon.
“Cross, come on, open up.”
You froze, recognizing that voice.
Shit.
Glancing around the still misty bathroom, you realized your clean clothes were in your bedroom, opposite of the way to the door, but you weren’t about to answer the door in a towel. Thankfully, the closet that held your washer and dryer was right next to the bathroom, and you rooted around in the dryer for the first tshirt you could find, sending a moment of gratitude to the universe that your front door had none of those filtered glass panes on it. You shoved your arms into the shirt as you struggled into some pajama shorts on your way to the door.
“What are you doing here?” you asked before the door was opened, and even then, only wide enough for your head to poke through.
Javy was leaning against the door frame, arms braced on either side of it, and you noticed his shoulders relaxed a bit when he saw you.
“You’re okay?” he asked, his eyes running over you, seemingly scanning for some nonexistent injury.
“What?” you blinked. “Yeah, I’m fine, what…”
All at once, you remembered the promise you’d made to his mother, and your phone charging in the other room, and how long it’d been since you’d gotten into the car at Balboa. You looked up at Javy, clocking the relief and stress warring in his expression.
“I’m sorry,” you said, your nose wrinkling. “I just got carried away with stuff and—”
“Is that my shirt?” Javy interrupted you, and you looked down.
It was his shirt.
You’d grabbed it out of the tumbled load in the dryer, which you now remembered was one of the last dogfight football loads.
“It was the first one I grabbed,” you said, quickly.
Javy didn’t say anything, but his hands did drop from the door so he could cross them across his chest. And he was smirking, damn it, something that should be annoying or at least not attractive, but it was, and it made you want to stomp your foot.
“It doesn’t—“ you tried again. “Don’t be weird about it, okay, it doesn’t mean anything.”
“Sure, Cross,” he said, that lazy smile growing, and you pursed your lips, refusing to give into the impulse to smile back.
“Okay,” you said, knowing it was petty, but pointing to the phone he held in his hand, “is that my picture?”
Javy’s jaw actually dropped.
“Don’t be weird about it,” he mumbled, a moment later, stuffing his phone in his back pocket, parroting your words back to you. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
It was your turn to hum, amused.
But you did feel bad that he’d been worried enough to drive to your place, so you stepped back, opening the door to your apartment. You walked through it without waiting for Javy to follow you, heading into the kitchen to cover the cinnamon rolls, the smell of them still lingering in the air. You heard the door shut behind you, and smaller shuffling sounds as Javy toed off his shoes.
“You actually made cinnamon rolls?” he called after you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to be offended by the surprise in his voice.
“To everyone’s shock and amazement, yes,” you replied, flipping on the tap. “Want some water?”
“Sure,” Javy said, his voice closer this time, and by the time he made it to the kitchen, you had filled a glass and held it out to him. You wrapped the cinnamon rolls carefully, while Javy stayed in the doorway.
When you glanced over your shoulder at him, he was looking around your small kitchen curiously. He looked at ease, like he almost always did, with the calm aura of assurance that was deeply grounding. It was something to see him like that, in your space.
He finished the water and walked the glass over to the sink, turning to lean his hips against it. You pushed the cinnamon rolls to a corner of the counter, crossing your arms in front of you self consciously as you became aware of the casualness of your dress.
“Well,” you said, awkwardly, “thanks for checking on me. I am alive, so this has been a win for due diligence.”
Javy nodded slowly, his eyes still flitting around the kitchen, as the silence stretched.
“What if it did?” he asked, and you tried to track what that could mean, but couldn’t place it.
“Sorry, what?” you asked, confused.
Javy shrugged, his posture casual, but you noticed his hands gripping the countertop behind him.
“Mean something,” he said, before continuing as you shook your head, still confused. “My shirt. Our picture. What if…what if it meant something?”
The room felt like it’d been de-pressurized, like suddenly there wasn’t enough oxygen in the air and you couldn’t breathe.
“What?” you managed again, your voice sounding like more of a squeak than your actual voice.
Javy didn’t move from the sink, merely lifting an eyebrow while he waited for you to process what he knew you understood he was asking. It made his forehead wrinkle, which was annoying, because he couldn’t be adorable while he was tilting your world off its axis.
Your mouth felt dry and when you wet your lips, you felt Javy’s eyes dart down to watch your tongue as it slipped between your lips.
“Don’t get me wrong,” you said, your voice sounding shaky, even to your own ears, “it was really sweet having breakfast with your mom. And today was fun. And like, it was a good kiss, but it’s been like twelve hours of faking it, we can’t—”
You stopped talking when Javy pushed away from the sink, his long legs crossing the room quickly. The laid back air of earlier was gone, replaced by an intensity that seemed to crackle the air, and you backed up as he walked closer to you. Your back hit the opposite wall and you yelped quietly, but Javy didn’t stop until he was right in front of you.
He didn’t touch you, and you could’ve moved, but you both knew you wouldn’t.
Not when he leaned his forearms against the wall behind your head, his large body caging you, and all you could see, all you could focus on, was him.
“First of all,” he said, and his voice sounded different up close, like it rumbled out of him, “it wasn’t just good, and you know it.”
You knew what he meant, and his eyes darkened when you nodded, after a beat.
“Second,” Javy continued, in that same voice, and you shivered, “we’re pilots, not actors. Twelve hours…if that was all it was, neither of us would feel like this.”
You shook your head, knowing that if you let yourself imagine, just for a moment, it was going to hurt all the more.
“You said you had no plans to ask me out,” you whispered, aiming for a cavalier tone but coming up short. “That this was just the easiest lie.”
“I’d take it back if I could,” he said quickly, and you read the honesty in his eyes. “But, look, I was panicking. I’d been telling Momma about you for months and then she showed up and I had to say something before she told you how much I…before you got freaked out. I didn’t know you felt the same thing I did.”
You both desperately needed, and were terrified of, what he’d been going to say.
“This is wild,” you mumbled, your mind reeling. “You can see that, right?”
Javy smiled, the inevitable, gorgeous smile of his, and he lifted his chin a little bit. “Kiss me again.”
Your heart skipped a beat.
And you knew it wouldn’t solve anything, wouldn’t explain any of it, would probably complicate things further, but if the tradeoff was clarity or Javy’s mouth over yours, you knew what you were choosing. Your fingers curled into the front of his henley, pulling him down to you, and then you could feel that smile against your lips as he kissed you.
It was different when you weren’t two steps above him, when one of Javy’s hands fell from the wall to hold the side of your face as he kissed you. His lips were so soft, and of course he was teasing you with it, his mouth brushing over yours with light chastity until you pulled harder at his shirt and he pressed closer to you, his lips parting. At the first sweep of his tongue, your knees literally weakened and you swayed into him, your bodies coming flush together. Kissing him was dizzying, dreamy, and when you came up for air, you thought this might be your favorite sight—beautiful Javy, from this close.
You reached up to wipe at his mouth, where some of your chapstick had smudged, and he turned to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles.
“Told you,” you whispered, “Galahad.”
He laughed softly, another sound that was different up close, warm and deep and you wanted to hear it again. Unfortunately, Javy cleared his throat, kissing your forehead before standing up straight.
“I should get back to base,” he said, regretful but responsible. And he was right, of course, because you had drills in the morning, and whatever was between the two of you could wait another day.
“Stay,” you blurted.
You almost took it back, embarrassed of how needy it had sounded, but when you looked up at Javy, he looked almost as hopeful as you felt.
“Snuggles?” he asked, and you pressed your lips together at how freaking adorable it was, that this enormous man lit up like a kid on Christmas at the thought of something so innocent.
“If you want,” you hedged, and Javy gave you a look like it wasn’t even a choice for him, before he thought it through.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he said gently, “but, hell, I want to.”
You shook your head determinedly. “We won’t do anything. I don’t want to rush it, and today’s been a lot to add that, too... but it’d be nice to be together, without the pretending.”
You couldn’t believe you were practically begging the man to stay and just cuddle, but also it was Javy Machado. You’d do a hell of a lot more than beg, if push came to shove.
You could see him deliberating, and you decided you might as well throw in a final desperate bid.
“And you can give me a ride to base in the morning,” you added, “so I don’t have to catch the bus.”
Javy chuckled, before nodding seriously.
“Well, when you put it like that, it’s only practical,” he said. “The rational choice.”
“I’m a very rational person,” you said. “That’s why they pay me the big bucks to be a WSO.”
Javy blinked. “Do they—”
“They definitely don’t,” you laughed. “It’s off of rank, same as the rest of the Navy.”
He rolled his eyes, but followed you obediently deeper into the apartment.
You showed him where extra toothbrushes and toiletries were in the bathroom, and offered his shirt back, which he adamantly refused. He ended up grabbing a nondescript Navy shirt from the pile, which you were pretty sure was Jake’s, but didn’t want to comment on, since it seemed deliberate that he hadn’t asked.
Being in the same squadron, and being based in San Diego, there was a level of physical awareness that you two had passed months ago, so it was oddly anticlimactic to be sharing space as you brushed your teeth and got ready for bed.
Which is why the nerves, as soon as you and Javy settled into your bed, surprised you.
It was dumb, because you knew you had nothing to be nervous over. You’d both already agreed nothing else was happening tonight, you should be tired enough to just be chill about this. But as soon as your back hit the mattress, it felt like someone had injected straight caffeine into your veins and you couldn’t lie still.
Javy’s arm was under your head and you’d turned slightly into him, but suddenly your feet needed to be out of the comforter. Or maybe you needed to lie on your other side. Or the top sheet felt weird on your skin, or you weren’t sure if—
“Cross,” Javy sounded like he was trying not to laugh, “I’m gonna leave if you don’t lie still.”
You winced at the ceiling, disengaging so you could put just a few inches between the two of you. You felt yourself relaxing, like some weird performance anxiety, after he’d been so excited to hold you.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, “it’s just—”
“A dream come true, I know,” he sighed, like it was a heavy burden to bear, and you swung halfheartedly in his direction. Your hand swatted at the comforter over his chest, and you could feel the bed shaking as Javy chuckled.
“Unfamiliar,” you revised, “is what I was going to say.”
Javy hummed, and you both knew his answer was closer to the truth, but he was kind enough to drop it.
You shifted slightly, settling more deeply into the bedding, trying to tell your body it was comfortable so it could just be still. But even with the distance, every inch of you seemed hyper aware of the fact that Javy freaking Machado was literally in your bed. You knew you’d made the right call earlier, that you didn’t want to rush this, and everything else rational…but you were only human, damnit, and you were too curious to drift off to sleep.
You chanced a peek at Javy, at what little you could see of him in the dark of the room.
He was on his back, facing the ceiling, his hands folded over the top of the comforter like it was a sitcom from the 60s. His eyes were closed, and his chest was rising and falling rhythmically with his deep breaths, perfectly at ease. Except…if what he’d said last night was true, he should’ve been as ill at ease as you were, sharing a bed with someone.
“Can I ask you something?” you asked quietly.
“Ah, sure,” Javy said, still sounding amused. “Not like we’re sleeping till you’re tired out.”
“Okay, well—” you huffed, but Javy lifted a hand from the comforter placatingly.
“I kid,” he said. “Honestly, we should all be impressed that I’m staying PG and not slipping into a ‘well, I can think of an easy way to tire you out’ line of thought.”
Your mouth snapped shut; you hadn’t even considered that.
Javy shifted and the comforter crinkled as he cleared his throat. “Okay, neither of us can think too hard about that; ask your question.”
You hesitated for a moment, kind of enjoying the comfortable silence of the room. You turned your body to follow your head, settling on your side with your arm between the pillow and your head, before you asked, “Why hasn’t there been anyone since the Academy?”
Javy didn’t freeze, didn’t pull in a deep breath or tense up, but you felt his surprise, all the same. “Sure you don’t want a happier bedtime story?” he asked, his voice carrying a kind of hesitation that was new to you.
“You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want,” you hedged, meaning it. “I can think of another one.”
You watched his jaw tense, and then he shook his head, just once. “Is it crazy that I want to tell you?”
You weren’t sure, but you did know that it felt an awful lot like trust, and you wanted that more than you wanted to know the story. Javy was fiddling with the end of the comforter, and the motion reminded you of the straw wrapper at Harry’s so you reached for him.
His movement didn’t break, he just accepted your hand and enveloped it in his. He wove the fingers of one hand between yours, and with the other he traced along the tendons on the back of your hand.
“There’ve been folks since Academy,” he said, slowly, like the conversation had to pick up steam. “Just no one I’ve introduced back to Momma. You know how it is, how you can always find someone for the night. I found it was…easier. To keep it that way. No expectations, no strings, just fun. No one gets hurt that way.”
His slow motion of his fingers over the back of your hand was soothing, tracing patterns an retracing them with another finger.
“You got hurt before?” you asked softly, watching Javy’s nostrils flare slightly as he processed the question.
“I hurt someone,” he said, quietly.
You doubted the distinction was mutually exclusive, but you stayed quiet as you waited for him to continue.
“We met when I was at Annapolis and she was at St Johns. She was from up North, so she was like no one I’d met in Louisiana. On a law track, in a sorority, all that. And we were…serious.”
He paused, and you could tell he was trying to decide how much to tell you.
“Pick out a ring, serious?” you prompted.
The pause lingered, before Javy traced down the fourth finger on your hand, saying quietly. “Put a down payment on one, serious.”
It shouldn’t have surprised you.
You tried to envision a younger version of Javy, bright-eyed and fresh at the academy, planning his life out, with conviction. That part hadn’t changed, Javy’s calm assurance, and you could envision some paralegal from Connecticut being absolutely swept away by him.
“I got my first post, in Norfolk,” Javy continued. “She got into Law School at William and Mary, and we had a little place in the middle. Painted the kitchen yellow, had a hell of a fight with the landlord over it. We had window boxes with flowers; we couldn’t keep anything alive in there, winters were too cold, but we tried every spring.”
It sounded idyllic, how he described it, and you could hear a painful undercurrent of longing in his voice as he told you about it. Like even now, it hurt how perfect it’d been.
“What happened?” you asked, gently.
You watched Javy’s profile shift as his nose scrunched up, in answer to that question.
“I had an accident, one day, flying—I made it, my wingman too, but the plane was rubble.They called her to meet me at the hospital and I remember when they let her in to see me; she was so quiet. She’d been real worried, I guess, and seemed pretty upset…I thought she might’ve missed an important lecture, or something, I don’t know, but it was weird.”
You frowned, squeezing his hand. “Surely a lecture wasn’t more important than being there for you.”
“Nah, she wouldn’t have thought that,” he said, then laughed wryly. “No, that wasn’t what she was upset about. When they discharged me a couple days later, and I got back to the apartment it was half empty. I remember walking in, and she was sitting on the hearth, one last cardboard box by her feet.”
You squeezed his hand again, hating that you knew where the story was going. Didn’t everyone who shared your employer?
“Yeah,” Javy sighed. “Uh, and she was right, you know, it wasn’t fair. If I’d died that day, she would’ve been stranded in Virginia, and every time I went up in the air, she was going to have to wonder if this was the time I left her for good.”
A dozen responses flash through your head, but you bit your tongue, before answering carefully.
“Flying isn’t something you do against someone,” you said evenly. “No one plans on burning in.”
“I know,” Javy said, and you hated how his voice had taken on this detached quality, like this speech was one he’d given himself hundreds of times. “But it’s selfish to ask someone to love you with all that on the line, and ask her to carry that fear. I get it, it was too much, so…yeah. I get it.”
He hadn’t stopped tracing over your hand, and your heart broke for younger Javy. How he must’ve felt standing in that empty apartment, as the woman he’d planned the rest of his life with left because she was scared. How blindsided and guilty, and clearly holding that guilt years later, as he relayed that story to you.
“Run that last bit by me again?” you asked.
Javy looked at you. “It’s selfish to ask someone to love you with all—”
“Yep, that part,” you interrupted. “One more time?”
You knew Javy knew what you were getting to, because he didn’t repeat himself again.
“You know what I mean,” he mumbled.
“You know what I mean,” you retorted. “Not everyone can take what we do, and that’s fine. But that’s something you hash out on a third date, when you talk about career plans and make sure your lives line up. Not when you’ve dated through college, have a home together, and when you get a call from the hospital. That’s when you need support, not for someone to ask themselves a question they should’ve asked years ago. Like. I’m sorry, but that’s a shitty thing to do.”
The room was quiet for a moment, and you wondered if you’d overstepped. Obviously you didn’t know the entire ins and outs of the relationship, but let’s face it, you were always going to take Javy’s defense against some WASPy lawyer.
Or, as far as you knew, a wannabe lawyer.
With her staying power, maybe she didn’t even pass the bar.
You let out a long breath, trying to release your animosity with it.
“Thank you,” Javy said quietly.
And you were sure there was a lot you could’ve phrased better, maybe held your tongue on, but you didn’t. Instead, you told your restless body to get over itself and slid back across the bed, into Javy’s side. He kept his hold on your hand over the blankets, but you tucked yourself against his torso, more determined to be comforting than comfortable.
“You’re not selfish for asking someone to love you, Jay,” you said, your voice muffled by his tshirt. “And I think you deserve someone whom you don’t have to ask.”
He didn’t say anything, but a moment later, you felt him shift, before he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You felt the both of you settle, either lightened from the sharing of his past or from the relief of holding each other, and sleep came easily, this time around.
//
next chapter
tagging: people who haven't told me to stop and people who interacted with ch1: @mxgyver @princessphilly @hangmanbrainrot @roosterforme @blowmymbackout @datemephoenix @fuckyeahhangman @lt-bradshaw @double-j @callsignvalley @sebsxphia @javihoney @rosiahills22 @andrewrussgarfield @teacupsandtopgun @katiedid-3 @beyondthesefourwalls @gretagerwigsmuse @auroraboreallisfine @bioodforbiood @m1ssmunson @rassvetsky @desert-fern @et-homephone @letskeepthislo-ki
#javy machado fic#javy coyote machado#javy “coyote” machado#javy machado x reader#javy machado x you#coyote x reader#coyote x you#coyote x cross#javy coyote machado x reader#javy coyote machado x you
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Sweet Memories ⇴ J.Machado
pairing: Javy Machado x old flame fem!reader
warning/content: angst, regrets, fluff, cheating, mentions of breakup and innuendos to divorce
summary: An umpteenth night next to your husband makes you realize what could've been your life.
word count: 2.1k
a/n: English isn't my first language so please take that into consideration. This is inspired by the song Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan. I DO NOT TOLERATE CHEATING, THIS IS ONLY USED AS A PLOT FOR FICTION.
masterlist
The window of your bedroom was open because of the unbearable heat of August. You were listening to the limited cars driving by, your hands joined on your stomach and an arm draped over you. You look at the man sleeping next to you and couldn't resist running your fingers in his hair, getting the locks out of his face. His brows furrowed for a moment and then peace took over his features. You softly smile and kiss the top of his head before turning back to your bedside table, staring at your phone. Sleep didn't want to come to you after you've read the text Javy sent you sooner today. He was in town. It's been years since the last time you saw him, since you'd broken things with him. You were the one ending things up, he never knew the real reasons, and he probably never will. He didn't know why he sent you that text, probably because he unconsciously wanted you back. He never met anyone else like you, he got his fair share of women, one night stands and relationships. But not a single one could even dream to compare to you.
You grab your phone and unlock it, staring at the text for a moment before opening Instagram, as if you felt it, Javy just posted a video of him in a bar you didn't recognize. He was smiling, singing along some old rock song and probably annoying that blond guy who was trapped under Javy's arm. You chuckle quietly and before you could even think about it, you respond to his video with a laughing emoji. You realize what you just did and drop your phone on your chest. You haven't talked to Javy in years, you never told him why you'd broken up with him, he must hate yo-
Vzzz
You look down at your phone and see the new notifications with Javy's username. You look back at your husband who's sound asleep and grab his arm to get out of the bed without waking him up. You just couldn't text with another man when your husband was holding you in his arms. You quickly grab your robe and put it on before joining the kitchen and checking Javy's messages.
Hey
It's been a while since I've heard from you
You stare at the texts and decide you shouldn't do this without a drink. You open the cabinet and take a bottle of red wine and a glass before pouring you a large drink. You take a few sips before texting back.
I know
It's been too long
I'm sorry
You take the glass in your hand after sending your last message and watch the little bubbles appear on the screen. Your heart pounds in your chest and you can almost feel the butterflies get crazy in your stomach.
Don't be, it's not your fault
Kind of, yes...
Well, it's not what I think
What are you doing awake at that time anyway?
You take a new sip and contemplate telling him the truth. For once. You catch a glimpse of your wedding ring and freeze. You drop your phone on the counter and quickly take it off, putting it down beside your glass of wine before taking back your phone.
Couldn't sleep
You still have insomnia?
For his part, Javy lost complete interest in what was happening around him when he saw your first text. He was a little bit drunk, having fun with his best friend at the local bar but the moment he saw your username interacting with his post and that beautiful smile on your profile picture, he even forgot his own name. He only knew he needed to talk to you. He'd spent years longing after you, regretting every single decision that could've led him to you breaking up with him. You left him in such a blurry space when you uttered those three words. This is over. First he thought you had met someone else but when he asked, you promised him that was not the case. Maybe he had been to needy in your relationship? Did you think he had been toxic? Lord, he hoped not.
No.
Do you want to talk about it?
He knew something was on your mind if you couldn't sleep at this hour. He stares at the little bubbles on his screen, waiting patiently for your answer. He was still hoping to win you back, however long it would take, he was known for his patience.
Not over texts.
Javy's heart starts to pound in his chest and a goofy smile takes place on his face when you send him your address. He grabs his jacket and quickly says bye to Jake who was shamelessly making out with a brunette before leaving the bar. He jumps in his car and enters your address in the GPS. 17 minutes. He would see you again in 17 minutes.
Was that a good idea to see Javy in the middle of the night when you haven't seen him in years? Definitely not. But did you want to? Absolutely, you needed it. You wait patiently in your living room, emptying your glass of wine and checking your phone now and then to see if Javy sent you another text saying he was down the street. Not even 20 minutes later, your phone starts vibrating and an unknown caller is trying to reach you. You know it's Javy so you answer. "Hello?" You say, your voice weak and timid. "It's good to hear your voice." He immediately responds, you could practically hear the smile in his voice. "It's good to hear you too." You smile softly, wrapping your free arm around you. "I'm down the building but I don't see your name, can you open the door please?"
Of course, he couldn't find your name, you were married now. You clear your throat and look back to your bedroom, your husband was still sleeping deeply and you didn't want to run the risk waking him up and discovering Javy in your living room. "I'm coming down." You tell him and step out of your apartment, keeping the phone to your ear. "Alright, I'm waiting for you." The low rasp in his voice makes it irresistible and you want to swoon and run away with him. When you join the lobby, you can see him by the windows, waiting in the night. He must sense your gaze on him because he turns to you and freezes, a tender smile on his lips. "How can you look this pretty at 2am?" He asks through the phone and you can only focus on the way his lips move saying those words. You hang up the call and he chuckles lightly, sliding his phone in his pocket as you go to open the front door of the building, joining him outside. You wrap your arms around yourself at the fresh nightly breeze and he's quick to give you his jacket. You refuse it and ignore the flash of hurt passing through his eyes.
"It's good to see you." He says and you look away, feeling your cheeks blushing. "Likewise." You only say and you can hear him sigh quietly as he sinks his fists in his pockets. "So... What's happening? Why can't you sleep?" He tries to search for your gaze. "Why did you send me this text?" You ask him without really answering his own question. "You texted me first." He chuckles and you look into his dark eyes for the first time in years, making his chest clench. "Not tonight. Why did you text me this morning? Why did you want me to know you were in town?" You ask more explicitly. He sighs and rubs his face, looking for his next words. "I guess I just missed you. I just came back from a huge mission and I needed to tell someone I was back home. I didn't even know you still lived here." He shrugs and looks away. "Did you get hurt on this mission?" Now you're the one searching for his gaze. "No. I almost crashed during an exercise but I'm fine now. I promise." You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from asking for more information and only take his hand in yours. "I'm glad you're okay." You smile at him.
"I've missed you." He admits with a tender smile that could turn your legs into jelly. His brows furrow for a second and he opens his mouth. "You didn't tell me why you couldn't sleep." A sly smirk now takes place on his lips as if he knew the answer. He's pretty sure he now knew why but he wanted to hear you say it. When he catches sight of your cheeks blushing once more, he knows. He gently grabs your chin and tilts your head so he can look into your eyes. "Is it because of me?" He asks and you can't do anything else than simply nod. A more loving smile stretches his lips and he takes a step closer to you, invading your personal space. Too close, too close. But never close enough. You could see him leaning in dangerously, his eyes transfixed on your lips and wanting to taste them for the first time in years. You gently put your hand on his chest and tilt your head back. "I can't." You speak so softly Javy doesn't even know if he heard you or imagined it. Not being sure, he stops his movements and looks at you. "Why not?" His hand is now cupping your jaw and his thumb softly caressing your cheek. "I'm..." married. You can't say it, the words just won't come out of your mouth.
"I'm not sure I can love you the way I used to." You eventually say, grabbing his wrist and taking his hand off your face. He nervously licks his lips and looks away from your face. You could practically see the gears turning in his head. He wanted you, there was no doubt. But did you want him?
"I can teach you how to again. If you'll let me." He lifts your joined hands to his face and kisses the back of your hand. "When do you leave town?" You ask him and he smiles widely, feeling he almost won you back. "I'm on indefinite leave, my whole squad is after our last mission. They'll call us back in a few weeks I think." He could at least tell you that. You nod and look back at the building behind you, thinking about your husband sleeping in your shared bed. It wasn't fair to him. It wasn't fair to Javy. "Give me a week to sort out some things and I'll call you. I have your number now." You gently grab his face and stroke his cheekbones with your thumbs. "You deleted my number back then?" He asks, surprised but still with a smile on his face. You ignore his teasing and stand on your tip toes to reach for his face, placing a delicate kiss on his lips. He closes his eyes and enjoys the short second of your lips on his. "I'll see you next week." You whisper, your breath hitting Javy's lips.
"Give me one more... Please." He practically whimpers, his eyes still closed. You smile and wrap your arms around his neck, smashing your lips on his once again. This kiss is much more passionate and desperate than your first one. He's grabbing your hips like you're gonna disappear the moment he lets go of them. He even ends up wrapping his arms around you to keep you close. Your lips fit perfectly together, his teeth even nibbling at your bottom lip because he knows you like it. And he's not wrong, he pulls a small moan from your lips and your tongue slips between his parted lip to taste him. You feel his chest vibrating when he groans at the feeling and smile against his lips. You definitely want him.
You reluctantly pull back and place short kisses along his cheeks because you can't get enough of him. "I gotta go now. I'll call you, I promise. Let me take care of some stuff and I'll be all yours." You press a last kiss to his lips and try to get yourself out of his arms. "All mine? Promise?" He looks at you with a silly smile and sparks in his eyes. "Promise." You let go of his hand and go back inside the building, walking back to keep looking at Javy. he bites his bottom lips as he looks at you going back to your apartment, not even thinking you could go back to a sleeping husband.
taglist:
@hardballoonlove
@iliketopgun
@roosterforme
@jessicab1991
@atarmychick007
@hangmansgbaby
@els-marvelvsp
#javy machado#coyote#javy coyote machado#javy machado x reader#coyote x reader#javy coyote machado x reader#top gun#top gun maverick#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#coyote fanfic#greg tarzan davis#top gun x reader#top gun maverick x reader#coyote x you#javy machado x you#javy coyote machado x you
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if it's worth your time masterlist.
Javy "Coyote" Machado x Female!Reader
It has been a little over two years since the Uranium Plant Mission, when Omaha needs to recuse himself from the specialized squadron created after it's success. You're called back to replace him, packing up your two year old daughter, and heading back to Top Gun. You know you're heading back to work with old friends, ones you haven't seen in years. What you don't expect is there's someone else waiting there for you, too.
Considering this will be multiple parts, I thought I'd throw up a masterlist for it. I'm really excited to be writing this. It's based off a line from the song "Chelsea" by The Summer Set, and Bozer and Riley's interactions in the first season of the 2016 Macgyver. Chapter titles are from the original Macgyver, for no reason other than I love Richard Dean Anderson and wanted to tie it all together nicely.
Preview.
Two times the trouble - Prologue.
High control.
The road not taken.
Every time she smiles.
For love or money.
The black corsage.
Ten percent solution.
Split decisions.
On a wing and a prayer.
The gauntlet.
Unfinished business.
Three for the road - Epilogue.
I'm going to have a separate taglist for this, so let me know if you'd like to be added.
#coyote#javy machado#javy coyote machado#coyote machado#top gun#top gun maverick#top gun: maverick#top gun maverick fanfic#top gun fanfic#coyote x reader#coyote x you#javy machado x reader#javy machado x you#javy coyote machado x reader#javy coyote machado x you#coyote machado x reader#coyote machado x you#coyote fanfic#coyote fanfiction#javy machado fanfic#javy machado fanfiction#my fic#worth your time fic#masterlist
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evermore: short series
fandom: top gun maverick
character(s): various members of the dagger squad
a/n: oh this was fun. it was pretty fun. and i love javy so..so much. did u guys know greg’s gonna be in the new mission impossible movie? thats rad. anyway my words got away from me
track three: gold rush ( aka “may y/n be swallowed by a whale before she admits her feelings” )
the story's simple. your mom knew his mom and that's how the two of you met. standing by awkwardly while both of your moms used the moment to catch up with each other at the supermarket.
you were about twelve years old and itching to just go home and delve into this new book you'd borrowed from the library while javy was this punk-looking thirteen year old with a perma-frown, as if his mother just dragged him out of bed for a trip to the grocery store.
she did, but you didn't know that then. you really just wanted to go home; feeling bad for this boy wasn't really at the top of your list.
but when the two of you locked eyes after your mothers have bid goodbye to each other, you'd be lying if you didn't think he was interesting. or cute. or both.
it was both. who knew mrs. machado's son was actually cute if he just, well, stopped frowning?
but then it was your turn to frown when you realized that this was the same boy that your friend had been gushing about the weekend before. apparently, he and his little posse of boys liked to hang around the mall and your friend wanted to see what all the hype was about. you remember refusing to come, thinking that it was a waste of time. you'd rather score tickets at the arcade and come home with something nicer than a boy.
you spent the ride home looking out the window, some old tune about love on the radio that your mother idly sang along to.
it was the first romance-related crisis you've ever had. and you hated that you were placed in this precarious position of having eyes for the same guy your friend did.
and you dreaded the walk to school the morning after.
,
"y/n? hello? earth to my best friend?" your best friend's lips were glossed. hair done up in this beautiful style that you wished to emulate but you were too scared to try. not even - hell, not especially - to gain some guy's attention.
but the pit in your stomach when you think of his face ...
"i feel kinda sick." you groaned.
she rolled her eyes and just grabbed your arm to have you fall in step with her.
"well, don't puke or something. or at least wait until after lunch. we can both call home and get picked up early!"
you wanted to ask about what was so special about lunch, but figured that your question would be answered soon enough.
and the answer wasn't what you wanted.
as relationships went in the precarious teenage years, part of you knew that this wasn't gonna last. you loved your best friend, but she grew tired of boys quicker than you finished your jawbreakers.
and the painfully executed public display of affection you saw between your best friend and javy during lunch over your homemade sandwich was just the first stone in the short paved steps of how your best friend handled life with her paramours. she’d sat on his lap and gave him a kiss or so, but you noticed that when she was distracted with a conversation or two with someone that wasn’t you or javy, he would stare right at you.
you figured that it was just the disbelief that his new girlfriend’s best friend was the same dork he’d met the day before.
you did end up calling your mom after lunch to take you home, your best friend doing the same thing. soon enough, you find yourself walking home together. you felt more queasy than anything else.
"so .. didn't i tell you? he's cute, right?" she inquired, reapplying her lip gloss for the umpteenth time.
"uhh .. yeah. he's ..he's cute."
"so i have your support?"
and when you didn't respond quick enough, she held an arm out to stop you from walking.
you looked at her arm, then at her face.
she wasn't stupid or selfish. sure, you dressed a little plainer than she did and was just a tad bit quieter but you two were attached at the hip. she favored you more than anything. she favored your thoughts and opinions over anyone else's.
your support has always meant everything.
and even if you wanted to put down javy as your first-ever full-blown crush, you favored her too. so you nodded.
"you have my support."
,
years after, you'd think back to that moment with great fondness.
you were right. the two of them didn't last. not that your relationship with either soured after.
it remained the same. you and your best friend continued to live life together. and while she eventually knew of your raging crush on javy, she was all too happy to help you find your own person, just as a supportive best friend does. she does it year in and out; all out of love, really.
your mother and javy's mother also started to hang out more, which meant that javy came over a lot. or you came over to the machado household more.
the two of you started to talk more and you found out that he was more than just the frown he had on his face when you first met. that he was more than the too cool for school posse he hung out with at the mall. that he was a total mama's boy and that, while it was annoying at first, he started to like it when your mothers started hanging out more.
it meant that there would be someone at home to hang out with that was his age. someone new. someone he didn't have to put up some kind of front with.
he was a lot more warm. liked to joke around and play harmless pranks on unsuspecting people. laughed a lot more than you thought he did. a lot more silly than you thought or from how you’ve seen him around his friends or your best friend.
he also didn’t like how trapped he felt in the role he had made for himself. a tough, cool dude who had to keep up appearances and make do with what he had after his father had left him and his mom a year prior. the two of you sat on a plush rug, chips and dip in between the two of you as he had recalled the day his father left. he bit his bottom lip, a nervous tic that you’ve noticed the more you spent time with him.
the lull of the old louis armstrong vinyl playing interwoven with your mothers’ laughter coming from the living room made you all too aware of the room you were in.
seventeen and eighteen years young. basketball posters on the wall. droplets of condensation on the top of your hand from the beer cans that javy had managed to swipe from the garage fridge and tossed at you, swearing that they were just way better than plain old sprites and root beers.
“the beer’s bitter.” you said, finally breaking the silence after you realized that you haven’t spoken up in a while.
“yeah, beer’s like that.” he had laughed, taking a swig from his own drink before nudging you. a gesture encouraging you to drink more.
that particular year went on.
truth is, years after initially meeting javy and his squad, you and your best friend had been unknowingly inducted into one of the cooler social spheres in your school.
so it wasn’t a surprise that for every school event, there would be gaggles of girls just wanting to be asked out by the four young men.
same for you and your best friend, though they were all frivolous little dates. none of them were ever serious; none of them paralleled the crazy feeling you felt when you had first met javy.
the only surprise was how your own best friend wanted javy to ask you out.
“but .. didn’t you guys used to date?”
she scoffed, her glossed lips pouting. “used to. it’s all in the past. we were in middle school! come on, y/n.”
but you were still unsure. that, and to be perfectly honest, competing was never really your thing.
you liked single player games. playing skee ball by yourself. you put your hand down when somebody else already raised theirs and you think that they could give a better answer during the lecture.
and you sure as hell didn’t want to compete with a dozen other girls that would stare daggers at you at the first wind of having another competitor in the arena for javy’s attention.
and that’s if they haven’t already stopped staring daggers and wishing pain on you for even being in his inner social circle.
you were about eighty percent sure that one of your nightmares has been being on ‘the bachelor’, too.
you stared at javy across the way, watching as he leaned against his locker, surrounded by his boys. after a second, he caught your gaze and he waved, flashing a grin.
“you have my support. you know that, please know that.” your best friend whispered right at your ear.
the last thing you remember after was your best friend tapping the back of your shoulder repeatedly.
,
you turned around, holding this big bouquet of flowers and feeling oh so erratic and nervous and all the goddamn synonyms in the entire fucking thesaurus–
“y/n! y/n! where are you?! i need – oh my god, i need my bouquet! hand it over!” it was the shrill voice, such chaos emanating from your best friend.
you cursed your heels as you walked as fast as you could to where she was, handing the bouquet to her.
even while an emotional wreck, her glossed lips and beautiful hair distracted the world, as it always did. her wedding dress was as perfect as it could be; your maid-of-honor one matching but not upstaging.
it was crazy. the two of you almost into your thirties and you get to watch her marry the love of her life. her actual person. the one, that she’s always harped on and on about. and while you had a slight cynical streak, it was pretty hard to keep when you see her with her lover. the two of them loved each other, it was obvious. it almost made you jealous.
before you left the room, she grabs your arm and pulls you close. her lips almost brushing your ear before she speaks up, “so .. this guy.. i have your support, right?”
you pulled back and looked at her, mustering the best smile you could give under stress. “you have my full support. trust me, he’s great.”
after the initial stress, the ceremony goes off without a hitch. soon enough, everyone’s ushered into the reception.
a few dances here, some teary-eyed family speeches there, and you find yourself helping to clean up some of the mess before you would make your way back to your hotel room.
the sound of someone clearing their throat caused you to turn around.
it was javy, dressed in his uniform.
your eyes widened. you saw that he was in the list, but you’ve craned your neck so many times during the ceremony and the reception that you knew that you would’ve seen him if he was there.
“sorry, i was .. really late.” oh, well, there’s that.
“it’s okay. um ..did you say hi to them already?” you craned your neck again. this time, looking for the bride or even, the groom.
“uh, yeah. i gave them my gift and apologized. honestly, i think she’s just glad this whole thing is over. weddings seem..stressful.”
you had to laugh, “yeah, they are. i’ve been busting my ass for about a year now over this engagement.” the year in question was a year you had seen him less. things change. people grow. people get jobs. and javy gains new obligations the further he gets into his career.
“well, seems that this one’s done for. you can breathe now.” he’d joked. you nodded, folding up the tablecloth in your hands. “yeah, finally.”
you took a few steps to the nearest table to set the tablecloth on it before turning back to him. “so .. are you staying long or do you have to leave soon?”
he shrugged, “up to you. i’ll stay as long as you like.”
you hummed, turning back around to fix the tablecloth that didn’t really need any fixing but god, you wanted to scream. only he could say those kind of things to you and have your nerves fraying like a full wig from the static electricity of children’s playgrounds.
“do you wanna get a drink? i’ll pay.” he finally spoke up, finding that while he appreciated the silence around you, this one wasn’t as comfortable.
you glanced back at him and gave a small smile. “well, you are paying.”
as the two of you were about to leave, you saw the dj packing up his equipment.
tapping javy on the chest to get his attention, you told him about your want to tip the man for doing a great job on the event. and that, yes, he was paid, but you were pretty sure that there were so many people that requested songs that you felt a little bad.
“what, you don’t got money?” he asked, though he’s already reaching into his own pocket.
you frowned, “i left it in my hotel room, javy. this dress isn’t really meant for holding stuff, y’know.”
he shrugs, “that’s fair. here, some few dollar bills to spare–” he’d begun before his wallet drops, you rushing to catch it in time but sadly, it drops to the floor.
it’s open when it lands, your eyes skimming through the tiny picture inserted on the side.
it was javy and you. prom night. a tiny printed picture that your best friend had no doubt had developed since you remember the moment fondly.
he had asked you to be his date, right there at the door before the entire group went in. somehow, you found yourself saying yes and amidst the cheers from your shared friend group, he had pulled you in for a picture. your best friend at the ready with her flash film camera.
javy had pulled you close to him, both hands on your waist while you had both of yours on his chest. he had the biggest grin on his face as the click signals a picture taken. it was the happiest you’ve felt in forever, laughing as he never let go of you until you reminded him that the two of you still needed to go inside the building for the actual prom.
“y/n?”
“you still have it.” you stated, picking up the wallet and holding it closer.
while you couldn’t see it, javy broke into a grin. “never left my wallet, actually.”
you looked up at him, only to see that he had already moved. he struck up a short conversation with the dj and gave him the money before making his way back to you.
“so..drinks?” was his only inquiry before he found your arms wrapped around his neck and he was finally being kissed by the woman he liked.
after pulling back, you looked right into his eyes. “it never left your wallet?”
you had said it so softly that javy wasn’t initially sure that you’d said it. he shook his head in response. you tilted your head slightly. “why not? why .. me?”
his hands on your waist pulled you in closer. “why not you?”
this time, you shrugged. “just .. “
and a badly-clipped montage of all the times you’ve seen javy with other people plays in your head. on how he always seemed to look right at you, questioning. how every time you think about taking your chance, you just never wanted to jump in the gold rush that was this man’s appeal.
because after prom, the two of you graduated. then life got in the way. and even with the reassurance that he liked you, wanted you..you just didn’t feel confident enough to take a step towards him.
until now.
“nothing, i guess. i..how..when did you know? that, you know, you…liked me?”
“honestly?”
“honestly.”
he bit his lip, the way he would before he was gonna tell you something that’s been in his mind for a while. “since our moms stopped each other at the grocery store.”
your eyes widened, before you looked down and bit your own lip momentarily.
upon looking back up, you stared right at his eyes again. “i like you too.”
“god, i sure hope so. otherwise, we’ll be making out in an almost empty room for no reason.” javy replied before pulling you in for another kiss.
so the story wasn’t simple in terms of detail. but in the end, all that ever mattered was that you and javy liked each other.
( cue your mothers rejoicing when the news of the two of you dating reached them. clinking glasses of wine over sunday brunch and shit. )
#top gun maverick#top gun fanfiction#javy machado x reader#javy machado x you#javy coyote machado#top gun x reader#javy coyote machado x reader#javy coyote machado x you#this one is happy i promise#Writes.
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JAVY 'COYOTE' MACHADO
fanfiction by t-nd-rfoot
BACK TO NAVIGATION
DRABBLES
Accidentally on Purpose
Leave it to Javy to make the most of a date night mistake.
JCM 1
Coming soon
#javy coyote machado#javy coyote machado fanfiction#javy coyote machado fanfic#javy coyote machado fic#javy coyote machado x reader#javy coyote machado x you#javy coyote machado imagine#javy machado#javy machado fanfiction#javy machado fanfic#javy machado fic#javy machado x reader#javy machado x you#javy machado imagine#coyote machado#coyote machado fanfiction#coyote machado fanfic#coyote machado fic#coyote machado x reader#coyote machado x you#coyote machado imagine#top gun maverick#top gun maverick fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfic#top gun maverick fic
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The Backup [Masterlist] — Full length series
Summary: No strings attached sex never works, right? You and Jake Seresin have fallen into a bad pattern of seeking each other out for sex after dates go awry, but a year of being friends with benefits with Jake hasn’t been good for your dating life. Especially when the two of you are hiding your antics from your lifelong best friend Coyote and the rest of your tightly knit friend group. But what happens when you decide to take a step back and end the cycle with Jake to focus on your dating life? And why is it that all of the sudden Jake looks more irresistible than ever when you know he’s off limits?
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Status: Series is ongoing!
Overview:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
#jake hangman fic#top gun fanfiction#jake seresin#top gun imagine#jake hangman x you#jake seresin au#jake hangman imagine#jake seresin x y/n#jake seresin smut#jake seresin fluff#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin fic#jake seresin fanfiction#hangman fic#hangman imagine#hangman smut#hangman series#hangman top gun#hangman x reader#javy coyote machado#natasha phoenix trace#robert bob floyd#bob floyd#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw#top gun x you#top gun x reader#masterlist#friends w/ benfits au
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it’s not rotten work (not if it’s you)
summary: Four times you, Jake, and Javy danced around the truth, and the one time you confronted it.
rating: explicit (18+ mdni)
pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x f!reader x Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado
word count: 4.2k
warnings: idiots pining, mmf PiV (unprotected), m/f oral (receiving/giving, face sitting), cockwarming, hangman being hangman, light angst, dacryphilia a bit, mention of violence (stabbing), no use of y/n.
notes: companion fic to my 'a little bit of fun' drabble. thank you to sana and amelia (@laracrofted @theharddeck) for the inspiration! this one's definitely more heavy on the emotion, so please let me know what you think!!
tagging: @sebsxphia @sometimesanalice @waklman @joaquinwhorres @gretagerwigsmuse @lewmagoo @genius2050 @seresinsweetie @teacupsandtopgun
one.
Neither Javy nor Jake really reacts when you’re the one to initiate conversation in your group chat.
Bad day. Someone pick me up?
Javy responds with a thumbs up and then a simple-Hangboy’s in the air. See you at 5.
Neither of you speak on the ride to their place; Jake’s usually the one to fill those silences. Javy just places his hand palm side up on the center console and wraps his fingers around yours when you place your hand in his. It’s the sort of companionable silence that stirs feelings you don’t really have the energy to identify.
An hour and a half later you’re settled in Javy’s lap, one of Jake’s old Navy shirts falling loosely around you, Javy’s cock inside you. It brings you a rare type of peace.
He’d made you shower and eat, guiding you through the motions with a tenderness somehow not at odds with his broad shoulders, the military uniform he’d removed when he climbed into the shower with you. You’d talked in low tones over a recipe of his grandmothers’, him coaxing you to tell him about your day. They already had a half-empty pint of your favorite Ben & Jerry’s in the freezer.
He’d undressed you from the waist down the same way he’d dressed you after your shower—gently, slowly, like you were something precious and fragile. You very pointedly did not cry. He took you apart on his tongue once, kneeling between your legs as you melted into the couch.
When he slid into you, your mind finally went quiet.
Javy’s got some game on in the background, the lull of the commentary giving you something to tune out as you drift. He’s solid and warm below you, inside you, a constant like the rate of acceleration due to gravity. Occasionally, he’ll shift or smooth his hand down your back or adjust the blanket that’s draped over you, but otherwise the two of you are still.
You’re not sure how long you’ve been napping til you hear keys in the door. You recognize Jake by footsteps alone, the way his keys jingle as they drop in the bowl by the door, the sound of him sliding his boots off til they land on the floor with a soft thump.
“Hey, thanks for getting her.” Javy nods against you, his chin bumping the top of your head where it’s buried in his chest, “She tell you what happened?”
Javy smooths your hair so his hand comes to rest over the ear not pressed into him, but you hear their conversation anyways, “Boss yelled at her in front of everyone for something that wasn’t actually a mistake. He didn’t apologize.”
The way Jake scoffs is muffled but your mind can picture his face, “I’m gonna give that asshole what’s coming to him one day. I keep telling her to quit. We’ll take care of her while she looks for another job. ”
Javy laughs gently, jostling you despite his best efforts, “And what? Get us dishonorably discharged in the process?”
It makes your chest clench when he says 'us' instead of 'you', as if Javy would be right there alongside him on your behalf. A pause, and Jake says something you don’t catch.
Javy’s response gets drowned out by the buzzer sound from the game, by the way his hand is still covering your ear. You only catch “never agree”.
Jake is apparently unsatisfied with Javy's answer because you can hear it in the way he leaves the room. You drift off again.
The next time you come to, it's because your dream had you squirming in Javy's lap, reminding you of how he still had you nestled on his cock. Then, there's a kiss being pressed to your forehead. You open your eyes to see Jake’s face in front of you, his hair dripping wet onto his shoulders.
"Hey baby," He murmurs before pressing your lips together.
It's heated, it's possessive, like he's trying to convey everything he feels he's unable to say through the way he licks into your mouth. Javy grabs the back of his neck so he can peck Jake, the kiss so chaste in comparison to the way Jake was just devouring you. It warms you beyond just the way Javy's body heat does.
They've been doing that more often, like they're discovering something beyond years of longing, beyond years of ribbing on each other to try and relieve what they didn't realize was sexual tension.
When you three finally make it to Javy’s bedroom, they take you apart the way they always do. But somehow, it’s infinitely more tender.
Javy fucks you first, rocking into you as you sprawl on his king size mattress. Jake’s there the entire time, kissing away your tears and petting over your stomach to press down on your lower abdomen.
Neither of them stops talking the entire time.
“So beautiful and smart, our girl—”
“I can feel Javy in you baby, you’re taking him so well—”
“God where would we be without you—”
You sob as you cum for the second time that evening, and Javy fucks you through it all. You’re so overwhelmed by the way their words wash over you like the sun on a summer day. The baritone of Javy’s voice murmuring “our girl” rattles around your mind til he finishes inside you.
Then it’s Jake’s turn. He’s just as, if not more, gentle than Javy.
Javy slips off the bed to go clean himself up. When he rejoins the two of you, Jake is already so close. He pulls out at the last minute, fisting his cock til he finishes on your stomach and chest, a punched out moan leaving him.
It’ll never cease to amaze you the way they manage to make you finish with such ease as Jake’s fingers find your clit and he plasters himself all over you so he can kiss you. It should be gross, the way his cum makes him slide a bit against you, but it grounds you instead. You can feel where the mix of you, Jake, and Javy is running down your thigh.
You’ve got Javy’s hand in a vice grip. They’re here, they’re real.
When it’s all said and done, Jake appears with a wet washcloth to wipe down your forehead, between your legs. Eventually, he carries you to the bathroom so you can pee and brush your teeth (“Javy got to carry you earlier while he was inside you, mind you, so it’s my turn.”).
Laying between them, you start to feel human again. You have half a mind to ask what they were bickering about earlier, but sleep is dragging you under before you can act on it.
two.
Jake's been irritating you all night. He begged you to come to the Hard Deck, claiming lonely since Javy was out of town for the weekend, some trip to DC neither of them wanted to discuss.
Distantly, you know this is how he shows affection. Like a teen boy, he’s poking and prodding at you. In between his turns at pool, he’s pulling you into his arms, grabbing at your waist, yanking on the ends of your hair. Something about Jake just requires he’s touching you at all times when you’re within his general proximity.
Natasha sets a beer down in front of you, before settling in across from you, “I don’t know how you put up with it.”
Your thing with Jake and Javy isn’t exactly a secret, but no one addresses it. It’s just sort of, there. The rest of the Dagger Squad seems to have just accepted the dynamic, brought you into the fold.
“Put up with him?” You nod at Jake, who’s trying to show Rooster some pool move that apparently requires one leg on the table. The tension between the two of them has eased considerably these days.
She laughs, “Either of them really, Hangman and Coyote. They feed off each other’s energy in the worst way sometimes, I think I’d go crazy.”
You’re silent, trying to figure out a way to respond. The three of you haven’t defined what this is, haven’t talked ‘feelings’, despite the amount of time you spend at their place, the way your days are filled with each other. You’re not sure how to explain that it just works somehow—on the outside it might seem like you lean into Javy more, but the reality is more complicated.
Jake and Javy are bonded by years in the Navy, nothing quite like constant near-death experiences to foster love. They do feed off each other, but in the way that they’re so familiar they’re almost one. Javy does steady you—but he also riles you up like no one else. Jake brings out the livelier side of you, but he’s also fiercely and openly protective of you.
You're stubborn and unmoving where Jake goes with the flow. You're snarky and sarcastic where Javy is calm, at ease. It just works.
Natasha just looks at you expectantly, and you shrug. Unsure of what to say.
You settle on, "They do drive me crazy, but I think I'm not totally gone yet."
Her laugh echoes above the background noise of the bar.
Back at the guys’ shared apartment, you fuck Jake slowly, keeping your lips pressed together. You whine into his mouth when he hitches your thigh up on his bicep, the position hitting something inside of you just right.
In that moment, he doesn't comment on the change of pace from your usual, more intense sex—he leans into it. He presses his lips to your forehead, then leans his against yours. His grip on your hip and thigh aren't as bruising as they usually are, they’re more grounding.
Jake always talks during sex, never shuts up. This time, he’s whispering more than anything else, and you can’t understand him. You want to ask but the way he’s fucking into you makes you lose all ability to speak.
When you finish, you keen and arch your back as Jake licks a stripe up the side of your neck. You shudder as he cums right after you. The two of you lay there for just a moment, taking deep breaths.
Jake presses his lips to your forehead one more time before pulling out and sitting up, "You wanna talk about it?"
Of course he noticed something was up–that's just who he is. A hurricane of a man, but still attentive to every little detail.
You consider him for a moment, his naked form, completely at ease with your eyes roaming over his body. You think of telling him about your conversation with Natasha, about the way it had made you think through the three of you. Instead, you shake your head and curl onto your side, and wait for him to get back into bed.
three.
Surprisingly, it’s Javy’s who’s been pushing you. Jake’s been hesitant to open his mouth on the subject, but you don’t miss the way he perks up slightly when you and Javy start getting into it again.
“I have a perfectly good apartment of my own, Javy!” It’s repetitive, like a swing dance, at this point. “I don’t get why you want me to move in.”
“Sweetheart, if you’d listen to me, you’d ‘get why’. You live in a bad area of town, and I’m laying awake every night worrying about whether to expect a phone call from the nearby hospital.”
Jake focuses intently on the crossword he’s pretending to do as you and Javy both stare at him expectantly. The last time he’d voiced his opinion, you’d threatened to call his mother and tell her he was trying to tell you what to do. Theoretically, he knows she’d be on his and Javy’s side, but he doesn’t feel like dealing with that.
(You haven’t threatened Javy in the same way, and he wonders if it’s because his mom is the only woman in this situation with a more stubborn disposition than you. Maybe it’s just because it’s Javy.)
"Well, maybe you should worry less." You snark. Javy doesn't respond and Jake can hear the way his eyebrow raises.
“Seventeen across, 'unconcerned',” Jake half mumbles to himself, half trying to break at least some of the tension.
“Perfunctory,” you snap at him from where you’re glaring at Javy, because of course you know.
"That's not an option, sweetheart." Javy's using the tone that says his decision is final, that he won't change his mind–it's one that you fucking hate.
Jake barely manages to stand up to intercept you when you turn around and head for the door, sans any of your possessions but your phone. He wraps his arms around you and refuses to release you despite the way you squirm indignantly in his hold.
He eases his grip just enough so he can lean down to whisper in your ear, "Baby, at least consider it?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Jake sees the way Javy just stares at the two of you. His expression is nearing anguish, and Jake gets it. The way you pull back every time they try to bring you closer feels like ripping barbs out of their skin. The emotional pain is so intense it rivals physical.
It’s not entirely about safety this time, not really.
"He's being a dick." You murmur, finally acquiescing and wrapping your arms around Jake's torso.
"We're not trying to control you babe, we want you here. He just maybe should've led with that. We want you to be safe." A little good cop, bad cop. Sorry, Javy.
To his surprise, you just say, "I know."
There's no fight left in any of you. Not since someone got stabbed outside your apartment building a month ago and the three of you, well, you and Javy, have been arguing non stop about it.
You just want it to stop—the tension every time you leave their apartment for work, the shared knowing that you won’t necessarily return. Jake clearly is getting sick of the arguing and you and Javy aren’t any less exhausted.
Turning around in Jake’s arms you look at Javy, “You—You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Javy’s in front of you in an instance, taking your face in his hands and kissing you fiercely, “I’m sorry, too. We care about you, we want you to be safe.”
There’s much left unsaid, but in that moment, all the words spoken are more than enough.
four.
When you wake up, you're alone in bed. You vaguely remember Jake getting up in the middle of the night and him and Javy talking in low tones as Jake got dressed. He kissed you goodbye and promised to come home safe. Javy had gotten back in bed.
The curtains let the gray of the morning light leak into the room, washing everything in a sort of hazy filter. There's clanking from the kitchen, but for just a moment, you let yourself lay there, absorbing the moment. The sheets still smell like that combination of Jake and Javy that lulls you to sleep every night.
For a second, you're overcome by a fear that one day you'll turn to your right and you won't be able to bury your nose into the pillow and smell Jake. He's only gone for the weekend, but it's that part of you that rears its head every time one of them leaves. Every deployment, every work trip they're not allowed to discuss, every morning they leave for training.
The bed dips next to you as Javy climbs in–you hadn't noticed him come back into the room. He smells like sweat just a bit, and you giggle sleepily when his fingers ghost up your ribs.
"Get out of the bed, Javy, you're sweaty," You groan, turning away from him as he drags you backward into his chest.
"Really," He laughs, "You didn't mind so much last night."
Despite your protests, you snuggle back into him, feeling the way his workout shirt slides against your bare skin. It's the sort of closeness that isn't just physical—it's about knowing your partners' boundaries, about knowing that they don't actually mind that you just came from the gym and then climbed right into bed. The sheets need to be changed anyways.
Javy kisses right below your ear and you hum happily. His lips ghost over your cheek but don't reach your lips.
"Go shower," You murmur as you turn around to kiss him.
He doesn't respond. He can't–not with the way you're flush against him, only wearing a pair of boxers where he’s only in a shirt. Not with the way you lick into his mouth lazily, humming when you taste the juice he drank. Not with the way your hands run down his stomach and grab clumsily at his hardening cock.
If you weren't awake before, you sure are now–especially with the way Javy's warm and calloused hands skim your nipples and lift your leg to hitch over his hip.
He rolls the two of you so his weight is pressing you into the mattress. There’s something so distinctly soothing about the position, the way he’s warm and heavy and everywhere on you. You move your hips in a steady rhythm against his.
When his hands find their way into the pair of boxers you stole from Jake, he finds you already soaking. You can feel the way he smiles smugly against your mouth. That just won’t do.
Shoving at his shoulder, he lets you turn the two of you over again. You kiss his neck, working your way down his body. Making a show of wrinkling your nose at his shirt, he yanks it off in one fluid, yet desperate, motion.
The instant you wrap your lips around him, his hands are in your hair.
“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re—”
He doesn’t get to finish his thought, not when you slide your mouth down the length of him, fighting your gag reflex at the way he nudges the back of your throat. There’s something so sensual about the way your nose almost brushes the curls at the base of him.
“Shit, shit, Jesus,” This is the way you like Javy best, all his boundaries down, just letting himself feel, “Your mouth is so fucking good, god, how do you—ugh, fuck!”
You’re pulling out every trick in the book. You fist the base of his cock in tight grip and let your spit ease the twist of your wrist. He shudders when you pull your mouth off him to lazily tongue at the sensitive spot at the underside of the head.
You know he’s getting close when his hips start thrusting, despite the way he usually holds himself back. The groan he lets out when he comes down your throat is guttural.
“You’re a menace,” He gasps out, and the glaze of his eyes is so familiar, so welcomed in the way that it makes your chest clench with pride and something else.
“You didn’t seem to mind just now,” Reflecting his words back at him before you make a show of swallowing deeply.
He drags you up his body while tugging off the boxers, “I mind because I wanted to fuck you.”
You giggle at the way he fakes his frustration, but you’re cut off when he lifts you up and over him til you land on his face. His strength never fails to stun you.
Javy settles you directly on his face. There’s still a part of you that feels overly exposed in the position but he wastes no time. He licks into you without reserve, burying his tongue in you and closing his eyes and humming in satisfaction.
Javy knows your body through and through—he knows what makes you gasp, what makes you moan, how he can drag this out or rush to the edge. This time, he’s savoring the moment, bordering on torture. His tongue is slow, purposeful, as it circles your clit and fucks into you slowly.
You can hear the way you’re whining as if you’re outside of your body. Your voice sounds foreign even as you beg Javy please, please, fuck right there, please don’t stop, please.
When you come you slam your hand on the headboard and moan something deep in your chest. Javy smooths his hands over your waist and ass as you come down, shaking slightly. He slides you off him and down the bed til the two of you are face to face again.
You think he might be murmuring something as he presses your lips together, again and again, but you can’t quite make it out.
plus one.
The Hard Deck seems so far away from here, where you and Javy are sitting on the beach behind it. Jake's only a few feet away, inside getting the three of you a round of beers. The noise of the crowd celebrating the end of another week is dim and distant.
You and Javy are sitting side by side, just barely touching. The heat radiating off him is unreal, as always. The two of you are talking about Jake and Javy's families, having drifted to the subject after recalling the way Jake's mom had squealed at the sight of you when she'd FaceTimed earlier in the day. His mom absolutely loves you.
He shrugs, “Momma and Amy knew about Jake and I before we did. I brought you up once and they figured it out.”
That surprises you. You knew Javy's mom and Jake's mom were perceptive, yet open, women, but you hadn't expected this—them seeing not just Jake and Javy for what they were, but the three of you, too.
You lean into him, snuggling close, "What did they say?"
He presses a kiss to your hair before answering, his words muffled with the way his lips move against your skin, "They said you had to be one hell of a woman to put up with us."
"Why does everyone keep saying that?" You pull back from him, and shock paints his features.
He laughs, a bit uneasily, "Who else is saying that?"
"I'm not 'putting up with you', I love you, I love Jake, I love you both." You push yourself to standing, unexpectedly frustrated. The sweetness of the moment seems acidic now. It eats at you.
This was hard enough for you to accept. Hard enough to rationalize, to try and understand what it meant that marriage certificates were for two names, that it was 'partners' and 'couples', that the world generally worked in twos. That's enough to try and deal with–much less with those closest to you pointing out how difficult it must be for you.
Javy can't even savor the fact that you've just said you love him, that you love Jake–not when your lower lip is wobbling and your chest is starting to heave in that way when you cry.
"Hey, hey," Javy's voice is steadying, as he stands next to you and takes your hands, "Look at me. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry."
It didn't even register to you that you're crying, but you feel it now. The telltale itch in your nose, the way your throat feels tight, your eyes watering. You rip one of your hands from his to wipe at your face messily.
"Woah, woah, what's going on?" Jake materializes next to you, the three beer cans dropping in the sand, forgotten in the instant he saw you crying.
"Everyone keeps trying to tell me it must be hard for me to love you, and it's not." Jake's mouth only drops a bit when you say love, an admittedly muted reaction in comparison to what you'd been expecting.
"I mean–" Jake starts, but he stops when Javy shoots him a look over your head. It's not the time for jokes.
He tries again, "We fought with you for a month to try and get you to move in with us, it's not hard for us to love you at all either."
For some reason, that just makes you cry harder as they pull you into them, "I didn't fight with you, I fought with Javy."
At that, the two men can't resist bursting into laughter.
"I'm-I'm sorry, sweetheart," Javy says as his laughter dies down, "We're not laughing at you."
You wipe at your tears hastily and giggle just a bit, "It is kind of funny."
“You love us?” Jake’s smile is cheeky, as much as it can be when he feels like you’ve split his chest open with your bare hands and are now holding his fluttering heart in your palms.
Fighting the urge to run or lie, you simply nod, “Unfortunately.”
Old habits die hard.
Later that night, when you’re pressed up against Jake’s chest with Javy at your back, they chant the words to you like a sacred prayer. They say it while they take you apart with their fingers, their tongues.
Jake says it in the way he curls his fingers inside of you, searching for the spot that makes your back arch and your thighs try to squeeze together. Javy says it in the way he inches ever so slowly into you, in the way that he tilts your hips so he can fuck your just so.
You say it in the way you trust them to see you so vulnerable, tears streaming down your face in pleasure, eyes rolled back. You wouldn’t have it any other way.
#top gun: maverick#top gun: maverick fic#top gun: maverick fanfic#javy machado x you#javy machado fic#javy machado x reader#javy coyote machado#javy coyote machado x reader#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin x you#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin#jake seresin fic#jake ‘hangman’ seresin#hangman x you#jake hangman seresin#hangman x reader#coyote x reader#coyote x you#javy ‘Coyote’ machado#no use of y/n
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The Plus One
Summary: You couldn’t believe he was here. He had told you he would be, over and over again, but part of you had convinced yourself it was too good to be true. There was no way a man as perfect as Javy Machado would be so into you after you spent one night together, months ago, that he’d fly out to be your date to a wedding for people he’d never met before. Yet here he was, looking as good as a dream. By the end of the night you knew one thing for certain: a weekend with him would never be enough.
Pairing: Javy Machado x Reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 3K
Warnings: Fluff, language, smut-esque but not detailed. Suavy Javy, because he’s a warning.
Notes: A not-so-subtle follow up to An Aviation Special, but can be read on its own!
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You had to make a conscious effort to keep your eyes on your sister and your new brother-in-law as they exchanged vows at the altar, as opposed to letting them stray to the man in the 8th row in the dark blue suit.
You couldn’t believe he was here. He was actually here.
He had told you he would be, over and over again, but even after three months of talking on the phone almost every single day, falling a little bit more with every conversation, part of you had convinced yourself it was too good to be true. There was no way a man as perfect as one Javy Machado would be so into you after you spent one night together, months ago, that he’d fly out to be your date to a wedding for people he’d never met before. Once his original flight had gotten canceled and then the next one delayed, you had convinced yourself it wouldn’t happen at all.
Yet…here he was. Slipping in right before the ceremony started, looking just as dashing as you had remembered, and smiling at you like you were the only one in the room.
Holy shit.
You took in a deep, silent breath through your nose and forced yourself to center on the words being spoken by the happy couple. It was almost over, so it wouldn’t be long until you could speak to him.
Only it really, really was. Your job as maid of honor didn’t end after the ceremony. Pictures lasted almost 45 minutes, and then you had to help your sister bustle her dress, and the tiny buttons were impossible to find amongst the miles and miles of fabric of her train. The cocktail hour was over by the time you were done, and dinner started immediately after that. You kept glancing at where he was sitting from your spot at the bridal party table, and each time you met his dark eyes, you could feel the flush heating your face.
You barely remember giving your speech, and the best man’s lasted so long, you almost requested the DJ play the Jeopardy theme song. The first dance was beautiful, but throughout the whole thing, you felt the anticipation bubbling inside of you, so hot you thought you were going to implode. Your fingers tapped an impatient rhythm against your thighs as you watched the couple twirl around the dance floor for the entire length of the song. Once it was over, the DJ invited everyone to gather on the dance floor as something more upbeat started playing through the speakers, and you were out of your seat and moving through the rising crowd. Your eyes never left his as you made your way toward him, and your smile grew the closer you got. The nerves faded away to make room for the excitement you felt at finally, finally seeing him again.
“Fancy seeing you here,” he called out once you were close enough to hear him, a mischievous grin on his handsome face, and you giggled as you launched yourself at him.
His strong arms wrapped around you, your feet leaving the ground as you buried your face in his neck, inhaling the scent of him that you had really only experienced once, but that somehow seemed familiar in all the best ways.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” you whispered into his ear, and you could feel the rumble in his chest as he laughed. He set you back down, but kept a hand on the small of your back, your body staying close to his. His dark eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, and the look in his eye was one no man had ever given you before.
“I told you I would be,” he said. He raised his other hand to your face and let the back of his finger run gently down your cheek. You couldn’t help the shiver that went down your spine at his touch. “You look beautiful, by the way. Even more beautiful in person. Just like in New Orleans.”
“Javy,” you breathed, unable to produce any other words now that you were this close to him - that he was really here, after so many months of just hearing his voice or seeing him through a screen. If it wasn’t for physically feeling his hands on you, you would think you were dreaming. You could feel the thrum of electricity starting in your veins, and by the way his gaze darkend when it flickered to your mouth, you knew he could, too.
“My name sounds better in person, too.”
You groaned out loud, the combination of his words and that look in his dark eyes proving to be too much. Unable to resist, you pulled his face to yours. His lips were soft as they met your own, and he didn’t hesitate to press even closer, coaxing your mouth open for him. His kiss tasted even better than you remembered.
You let yourself get lost in the moment, the music fading into the background as all of your senses honed in on this man. He pulled you impossibly closer, your body now completely flush with his. Every touch sent a jolt of heat through you, igniting the fire that had been smoldering since that night in New Orleans. No amount of talking on the phone could have prepared you for how good it would feel to finally have his hands on you again. It took everything in you to pull away before you let it completely consume you. And you knew it would have been so easy to let that happen. You had discussed that very scenario in one of the calls that had gotten a little heavier than it probably should have, him describing how it could go in very nice detail.
You had a fleeting thought that maybe you should be worried about how simple it was to lose yourself in him, all things considered. Just like that first night, though, and all the conversation in between then and now, it all felt so, so right.
But you were surrounded by your family, and jumping his bones in the middle of the ballroom probably wouldn’t be the wisest decision, even if it was all you wanted at that moment.
“I have to make it through this reception,” you told him, breathless and flushed.
Javy swallowed deeply, but nodded in agreement. He kissed you again, quick and sweet and not nearly enough. He leaned his forehead against yours, and for a moment, you were both still, breathing the other in. Then he took a deep breath and stood up straight, sending you that charming smile you hadn’t been able to get out of your head. He held his arm out, and you linked yours through it.
“Drink?” he asked, and you smiled as you nodded. While you waited in line at the open bar, he leant down to whisper in your ear. “Do you think they have aviations on the menu?”
You threw your head back as you laughed, remembering the pretty purple cocktail he had bought you during Mardi Gras. “I can confirm that they do not. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t try and convince her to add it.”
“Damn,” he cursed jokingly, no real heat behind it. He shot you a wink before asking you about how the morning had gone for you, knowing how stressed you had been over it. You talked quietly to one another as you slowly moved forward to the bar, and it wasn’t too long before Javy was ordering both of your drinks for you. Your heart skipped a beat when you realized he remembered exactly what you had said your go to normally was. You turned your head to try and hide the wide grin threatening to take over your face and pressed a kiss into his shoulder through his suit jacket. You didn’t miss how he shivered slightly at the action.
The next few hours passed by in a blur, yet felt like it moved at a snail's pace all at the same time. Javy was never far from your side, being surprisingly willing to meet all of your family and friends. He introduced himself as a friend, but you didn’t miss the twinkle in his eye when he shot you a look as he said it. It made you giddy, even as it fueled the feeling that this was too good to be true. How in the hell had you gotten this lucky?
You swayed in his arms now, an old slow song playing through the room. He held you close, his fingers running softly over the skin of your back where your dress dipped low.
“I still can’t believe you’re here,” you murmured, lifting your head off his chest to meet his gaze. “I’ve been dreaming about this for months.”
“Dancing with me?” he joked. The confident, teasing glint in his dark eyes made you immediately feel more at ease, to where you didn’t worry about dishing it right back at him.
“Among other things, I suppose.”
He laughed lightly, and you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped to match. He pulled you closer, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Cheeky,” he whispered into your skin. You hummed in response, neither confirming nor denying, and let yourself sway with him for another moment in silence before he spoke up again, touching on the first thing you had said. “Didn’t think I’d show?”
His tone was the same playful one as before, but you could sense the thread of insecurity in it, too, and wanted to alleviate it.
“It’s not that,” you assured him. You trailed your finger down the lapel of his jacket, smiling softly. “Most guys…I don’t think they’d go through the effort. They certainly never have before. So I guess I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that you’re real. Does that make sense?”
Javy nodded slowly, a contemplative look crossing his face. You let him process your words, moving together with the music. You straightened his sage pocket square and let your hand rest there, feeling his heartbeat beneath your palm. Another moment passed before he was softly speaking your name. He hooked his finger beneath your chin to guide your eyes back to his. His stare was darker now, more intense than it had been all night. You barely had time to furrow your eyebrows in confusion, let alone question him, before he was swooping down to capture your lips with his. Your squeak of surprise turned into something closer to a moan as he kissed you harder than he had all night. You sunk into it without a second thought.
When he finally pulled back, you were left breathless, your lips tingling from the intensity. His hand lingered on your cheek before he let it trail down the column of your throat, going as far as your collar bone before it dropped. You felt the warmth of his touch sear through you, making your heart race even faster.
“I’ve been counting down the days until I could do that,” Javy confessed quietly, and you had to bite your lip to keep the whimper from escaping. His voice was low, like it was just for you, like you were the only two people here. His eyes were filled with desire, but also with something deeper, more profound. It mirrored exactly what you were feeling inside, even if you didn’t quite understand it.
“Javy…” you started, your voice coming out breathier than you anticipated, and you watched his eyes darken at the sound of his name like that. “I-”
Before you could continue, you were being tapped on the shoulder. You turned quickly, startled by the touch. Another of your sister’s bridesmaids was there, a smirk on her face as she looked you up and down. You couldn’t help the heat that crept up on your face, embarrassed at how you and Javy must look on the dancefloor right now.
“Your sister and the hubs are ready to do their exit. Can you go tell the DJ?”
Part of you was annoyed that she had interrupted you when it would have been just as easy for her to fulfill the request. But the other part of you knew that this meant the night was almost over.
“Yeah,” you told her, “I got it.”
You turned back to Javy once she walked away. He was looking at you with a knowing, anticipatory look in his eyes. They seemed darker than they were before, like he also put two and two together on what the bride and groom’s exit would mean. Without missing a beat, you raised on your toes to kiss him again.
“I’ll be right back.”
You stood with your parents as your sister and new brother in law made their way through the crowd, hugging everyone goodbye. You were glad that your dress was long enough to hide your tapping foot as you urged her to move a little bit faster. When she finally got to you at the end of the line, she sent you an overdramatic wink as she pulled you into her arms. “He’s cute. Don’t worry about cleaning up. My wedding planner is on it.”
You had never been more grateful for your older sister in your entire life.
It was only a few minutes later that you had bid your own goodbyes to everyone and had Javy’s finger’s locked with yours as you tugged him out of the ballroom. You turned the corner to a long hallway before you stopped him, your hands cupping his face to pull his lips to yours. His big hands fell to your waist.
It was urgent, hungry, and the raw electricity between the two of you crackled.
“I don’t want to assume anything,” he managed to say between kisses, his lips trailing to your jaw as you both breathed heavily. “But my room is right upstairs, and-”
“Yes,” you said.
He pulled away far enough to look into your eyes. “Yes?”
You bit your lip, nodding quickly. “Yes.”
As soon as you walked through the door of his room, he had you pressed against it, claiming your lips again. You moaned into his mouth as you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close. He lifted you into his arms, but your long dress made it impossible to wrap your legs around him like you so desperately wanted. He must have realized that too, as he deposited you onto the counter just to the right of the door, never breaking the kiss. You bumped into various travel size bottles, and you thought some of them might have toppled over, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care; you were far too invested in this man, instead.
When you had to pull away for air, you rested your forehead against his, breathing hard.
“Javy,” you whispered, your voice sounding wrecked even to your own ears. He was staring intently back at you, dark with need and something.
“You make me crazy,” he confessed before you had the opportunity to. His voice was husky and rough, and your eyes fluttered shut at the words.
“I’ve never felt like this before,” you said in return.
He whispered your name, so softly you almost didn’t hear it. Your eyes opened slowly, looking at him. He didn’t need to say anything - his eyes said it all. You pushed his jacket off of his shoulders as his fingers found the zipper at the back of your dress, and then he was helping you down from the counter, and the material pooled at your feet.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he told you. Without another word, Javy scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the bed, laying you down gently before shedding the rest of his clothes. When he lowered himself onto the bed over you, his touch was reverent, his kisses slow and deep, and you knew you would never be the same again. Every moment with him felt like a dream, surreal and intoxicating.
He lit every single nerve ending on fire as he coaxed you to orgasm again and again, and by the time he came for a second time, you were nearly boneless, covered in sweat and completely satiated. You laid curled against his chest, your finger tracing the divots in his abs as his hand ran up and down your bare back.
“This can’t just be this weekend,” Javy whispered into the quiet room. You picked your head up to meet his eyes, and he was already looking at you. “Tell me we can make it work.”
You studied his face for a moment, searching for any hint of doubt or hesitation, but all you found was a raw honesty that nearly took your breath away all over again.
Part of you had been worried that this weekend really would be all that it would be. You had a whirlwind night together that ended far too soon months ago, and talked nearly every day since in anticipation of finally having the time you wish you would have then. There was a fear that perhaps it was a weekend meant for finishing what you had started. But instead, it had just stoked whatever had already been brewing.
“We can make it work,” you said with conviction.
Distance be damned, he knew, without a doubt, that one weekend with him would never be enough. Not even close.
--------
Notes: This was supposed to be just straight smut....clearly, it didn't turn out that way lol. I hope you enjoyed it!
Thanks to @roosterforme @sylviebell and @mak-32 for reading it over and all the help along the way!
Main Masterlist
#alli writes#javy machado x reader#javy coyote machado#javy machado fic#javy machado imagine#javy coyote machado x reader#javy machado#javy coyote machado x you#coyote x you#coyote x reader#javy machado appreciation#tgm fic#top gun fanfiction#javy machado smut#javy machado x you#javy machado x oc
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All That Glitters: Prologue
All That Glitters: Prologue
Pairing: Javy "Coyote” Machado x Reader
Summary: Growing up in the untamed wilds of the west afforded you many opportunities that most women weren't allowed, namely that of choice and self sufficiency. One day, your father announces his intention to marry you off, and you take your chance to escape, moving south to try your luck at striking gold. You arrive in the town of Maverick, setting up shop, but soon learn that life on your own is tougher than you previously thought. You catch the eye of a handsome man, but you're determined to rely on your own skills. Only, you may end up needing his help after all...
Trigger Warnings: References to living in the wild, Mentions of Indigenous tribes, Use of Y/N, Allusions to daddy issues, Poverty living, Sexism, Forced engagement, running away, Talks of gold. I think that's everything, but please let me know if I missed anything!
Word Count: 1.36k
Masterlist || DPU Masterlist
The mountains of the west are where you called home, and you knew every tree and stone like they were old friends. Or at least, that’s what it felt like to you.
The Rocky Mountains had sheltered you in their bosom from as early as you could remember, the old trees hiding you away from the rest of the world as your father worked, trapping and skinning the different animals that roamed this part of the world. He was an older man, getting well on in years, and you had no doubt he would pass on his trade to you any year now. You practically helped him run the business as it stood, a fact that you were very proud and mindful of.
It had just been you and your father for almost two decades now, your mother having taken ill when you were still young. The shadows of a kind smile and comforting song still teased the edges of your memories, but it had been so long, that you couldn’t be sure if they were real or the manifestations of hope teasing you with ideas of what it was to have a mother. You had been told by all who knew her that you were her spitting image, and to those comments you were never sure how to respond, so you didn’t.
You and your father lived in a remote cabin in what felt like the densest part of the forest. While he went out checking his many traps for new boon, you were stuck at home tending to the chores around your little fortress. Not many people came by your way, but those who did already knew where to look. Your father had friendships among the local Ute tribes, often trading with them for needed supplies. You had made tentative friendships over the course of the years, knowing that it would come in handy one day.
Now that you were older, you were trusted with more, and you prided yourself on keeping a neat home despite the surrounding wilderness. You were hanging the laundry up to dry when the sound of a horse trotting through the thicket caught your attention. Your body stiffened, ready for a potential threat, but you relaxed as you recognized the rider.
“Duncan,” you greeted easily, continuing your task. Duncan was a tall, strong man of about thirty years with strawberry blond hair, earth brown eyes, and sun-kissed skin. The scruff on his face indicated that it had been a few days since he had last shaved, and you weren’t sure if you like it.
“Y/n!” He called with a grin, his horse, Boone, barely coming to a stop at the foot of the small hill before he was dismounting. You supposed he was a handsome man, but you had known him since you were young, your fathers working together in the trade before Duncan’s father took ill some six years back. Duncan had already been well into adulthood by that time, promptly picking up the mantle his father had left behind.
Deep down, you knew your father had wished you were his son rather than his daughter, but you worked tirelessly to prove to him that you were just as capable as any son. You supposed it also helped that Duncan was a near constant figure in both your lives.
“Is your father around?” He asked, looking past you towards the cabin. You pinned the last sheet to the line before picking up the basket and holding it at your hip.
“He should be back soon,” you told him. “Why don’t you come wait inside?”
The rest of the day passed quickly, your father making his appearance just before the sun set below the horizon. You served dinner, listening quietly as your father and Duncan discussed business around the fire. You cleaned quietly, excusing yourself to your bed. The cabin was a one room building, the little privacy you were afforded was hidden behind a makeshift curtain in the far corner. You changed into your night shift, moving to slide into bed when you heard your father utter your name. You paused, glancing at the curtain that separated you from the two men. Padding to the edge quietly, you peeked through the crack between the fabric and the wall. The two chairs were silhouetted against he warm, orange glow of the fire, but you could still see the smoke rise from your father’s pipe.
“I’m getting older. You know that, Duncan,” your father sighed, relaxing further back into his chair. His accent was thick with the weariness of the day, and there were days where even you struggled to understand him.
“Yes René,” Duncan chuckled. “I’m aware.”
“My girl is smart, strong, capable,” your father continued, and your heart swelled with pride at his words, your chest puffing up a little. “But she can’t be on her own when I’m gone.”
You frowned at that, brow furrowed in confusion. What did he mean by that? Had you not proven to him time and time again that you were able to take care of not only yourself but him? You were so caught off guard that you nearly missed his next words.
“She’s too dependent on me,” he murmured, frown evident in his voice. “She needs a man to keep her safe and grounded.”
“What are you getting at André?” Duncan asked carefully, leaning forward onto his knees as he stared at your father.
“Take her for your wife, Duncan.”
Your heart stopped.
“She’s agreeable and a hard worker,” your father continued, a cough wracking through him. “And I’m sure it has not escaped your attention that she’s quite the beauty as well.”
“It hasn’t,” Duncan hummed. “It’s true, she would make a most agreeable wife, but I don’t know.”
“Duncan,” your father chided. “You are the son I never had. Why not make it official? It would do this old man’s heart good to know that my daughter is in the care of someone who will take care of her.”
There was a long pause between the two.
“Alright, André,” Duncan relented. “I accept.”
You watched as the two men shook hands, bile rising up in your throat. You slunk back into your bed, waiting for their conversation to die down and silently making plans of your own.
It had taken you all of one day to find your opening to escape, a singular, small pack holding a change of clothes and your mother’s journal. Duncan had left your home with the promise to return the following week, your father having gone out not too long after. You had left him a note, telling him that you had left and that you wouldn’t be back. There was no point in beating around the bush. The two of you weren’t flowery people. It took you all of two days to make it to Denver, trading a couple of furs for a few nights at the local tavern. You hoped you’d be able to come up with a plan before your stay was up.
“You heard the news?”
You glanced over to the table to your right where two men sat, drinking beer and playing a game of cards.
“What news?” The man with the beard asked in a grunt, throwing down a couple of chips. His friend threw down the same amount, drawing a card to add to his hand.
“Heard they found gold northwest of Santa Fe,” the first man said, scratching at his whiskerless chin. “A little town called Maverick. Sounds like they’re opening a mine and everything.”
“Maverick,” the bearded man drawled, “ain’t that the town with the upstarts?”
“The Dagger Posse, yeah,” the man said. “Anyway, the mayor apparently announced that they’re handing out permits or whatever for mining and panning. Could be worthwhile.”
His companion grunted, revealing his cards as the man groaned. Pulling the pile of chips closer to him, he sniffed.
“Might not be a bad idea to get a move on now before more people showed up.”
You didn’t hear the rest of their conversation, already heading back to your room to make plans for tomorrow.
A/N: And here it is! The start of Javy's spinoff! The plan is to work on my entry for the Galentine's day challenge and then I'll let you guys decide who we hear from next! As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! Be sure to follow my side account: @sailoraviator-library and turn on post notifications if you'd like to be notified of when I post! You can also follow me on AO3 under the username sailor_aviator. Thanks for reading!
#javy coyote machado#javy coyote machado x reader#javy coyote machado x you#javy coyote machado fanfiction#javy machado#javy machado x reader#javy machado x you#javy machado fanfiction#coyote#coyote x reader#coyote x you#coyote fanfiction#top gun coyote#coyote top gun
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False Confidence: Chapter 3
Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader
Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe
Summary: The Athletic named Javy Machado the fifth sluttiest player in the NHL last year. He’s a known playboy who leaves every game with a different girl. As far as he’s concerned he’s living the dream, playing his dream job with the dream lifestyle. Unfortunately his friends and bosses don’t agree. At 33, they think it’s time for him to settle down. You’re a kindergarten teacher at an esteemed private school. You don't expect much when you finally accept your colleague’s invitation to attend her husband’s hockey game but when you accidentally get separated in the post-game rush, you find yourself in a compromising situation with the last person you’d ever expected to meet. When his PR rep suggests a mutually beneficial agreement, your hands are tied. How long will you have to keep up the act? And how long will you be able to?
Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, angst, fluff, fake relationship, suggestive language, school system inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.
Word Count: 3.6k
A/N: Welcome back, y’all! Sorry it’s been so long, I’ve been busy 😭
Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter
You feel the butterflies that have finally settled in your stomach flutter to life again, a jumbled mess as your breath catches. You know it makes sense. His simple request. You’re the one who said you were out of practice. And he’s right, the media caught you with his tongue down your throat. They’re not going to be fooled by chaste kisses on the cheek and pecks on the lips. You need to get comfortable around Javy, and while you hadn’t come here with the intention of kissing him tonight, the sooner you rip off the bandaid, the better. “Okay,” you say and you hate how small your voice sounds. Javy gives you a mysterious smile as he leans in. Your heart beats quicker the closer he gets, and your eyes flick down to those full lips of his and you’re so fixated on them that you don’t realize that he’s stopped. When you realize that his lips haven’t moved in quite a while your eyes flick up to his deep brown ones and your cheeks heat at the intensity of his gaze. “What?” You sputter as you do your best not to pull away from his closeness. Your hands are trembling and you can feel discomfort settling in your bones. He leans in closer suddenly, lips barely a breath from yours and his nose brushes yours and you let out an indignant squeak, jumping slightly.
“Relax, Meep.” His voice takes on a lower timbre and you feel a shiver run down your back.
“Meep?” You squeak and he chuckles. You feel the vibration of the air on your lips. He reaches a hand up then, making sure to hold it in front of your gaze for a solid five seconds so you process it before he runs a knuckle across your cheek.
“My overexcited little roadrunner,” he muses. “Always squeaking.” Your brow furrows as you realize what he’s referring to.
“You’d be squeaking if you were surprised too.” You stutter out, irritation seeping into your tone even as anxiety continues to claw at your heart from his closeness.
“Oh, would I?” He asks, quirking an eyebrow playfully and then just as you’re choosing your next words carefully, he closes the gap and presses his lips to yours.
The first time you’d ever been kissed you were in the bed of Andrew St. James’s truck. You’d felt completely alone even with dozens of cars and trucks parked around you. The movie playing up on the giant screen was background noise as Andrew’s lips pressed against yours. Your lips were slightly parted in surprised pleasure. It had all felt so surreal, being curled against him as you experienced a first that you’d awaited giddily your entire life. Even your wildest dreams you’d never imagined that it could be like this. Even when Andrew had invited you to the movie, butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the idea. Even when you’d nervously picked out the soft yellow sundress that you knew you’d get chilly in with the cool spring evening air, dancing through your bedroom full of whimsy and hope.
Javy tastes like blueberries. The tart taste of the berries scattered through the loaf that the two of you had just indulged in making your lips tingle as he eased you into the kiss. This kiss was different from yesterday. While yesterday’s kiss had been hungry and desperate, this one was soft, delicate, and simple. A press of lips against lips and you can almost smell the rust and grass from your first kiss. It’s sweet, and you almost convince yourself that it’s real but the tart taste keeps you grounded in bittersweet reality. When he pulls away, he studies your face curiously and you struggle not to squirm under the intensity of his gaze. He leans in before you can react and kisses you again. You start, surprised and he’s pulling away before you can adjust to the feeling. You scowl at him and he chuckles.
“What was that for?”
“You need to not tense up so much when I kiss you. Right now you’re practically jumping out of your skin, Meep.” You feel your lips pout even as you know that he’s right but you can’t focus on that when he dips his head to kiss the pout on your lips. You’re expecting this time and you barely tense under the quick touch. “Good girl,” Javy praises you as he pulls away again, pressing a quick peck to your cheek and you jolt, surprised by the change in direction. He gives you a look of faux disappointment. “Come on Roadie, loosen up for me.” You feel your cheeks heating rapidly under his constant attention and the anticipation of the next kiss. You’re not expecting when he reaches a hand up and cups your cheek and then your cheeks are heating even more in embarrassment at the realization that he can probably feel their heat. He stokes the apple of your cheek with a calloused thumb and you shiver involuntarily. “I told you Roadie, I’m not gonna hurt you, sweetheart.”
“Prove it.” You’re as surprised as he is by the bite in your words, but the proximity and flurry of kisses have your brain in a tizzy. You’re overstimulated and exhausted and you don’t have the energy for Javy’s antics right now. His eyes widen before he sits back, his hand falling away from your face and you take a shaky breath as your heart rate tries its best to settle. His expression is unreadable as he nods.
“You’re right.” His gaze is steely as it meets yours. “I will.” Like it’s that simple. You’re too tired to push him so you just nod back.
“We need rules,” you hate how tired your voice sounds and you reach for your glass of water, sipping and hoping the cool liquid will give you the energy that you need. “If this is going to work, we need to be on the same page about what’s okay and what’s not.” Javy nods again, eyes calm and earnest.
“That’s good with me, what did you have in mind?” He asks and you fiddle with the hem of your shirt as you think.
“No sex.” You say after a moment, words form so he knows you’re serious.
“No sex, got it, Roadie.” You nod absently as you think harder.
“I need at least a week’s notice if you need me to come to an event, whether that’s a game or something else. That and my job will always come first. I’m not missing school for this, I’m not leaving my kids out to dry.” He nods again.
“That’s only fair. I’ll talk to Zam and work out a schedule of some kind and get that to you as soon as possible.
“Next, if I’m going to be coming to your events, I need you to come to some of mine.” You’re nervous about asking this but Josie’s voice in your head reminds you that this is supposed to be mutually beneficial.
“It’s only fair,” he says casually. “As long as I’m in town, I’ll be there. You can get me a schedule too, but just give me a basic idea now if you can.”
You think for a long moment before you answer. “You need to make a few appearances at the school to really sell it to the administration. There’s a faculty banquet in April. If you’re here, you’d probably be expected to attend.”
“Consider it done.” He says easily. Something else is itching at the back of your mind so you steel yourself and ask before you lose your nerve.
“Career day,” you sputter and Javy arches an eyebrow at you and you clear your throat. “It’s not a requirement per se but I think the kids would really enjoy meeting a real hockey player.” His eyes soften and you give him a shy smile.
“Yeah, Roadie, I’d love to come to Career Day.” He smiles back as you relax in relief. He waits for you to continue but you’re drawing a blank as to what comes next so he speaks up. “You need to figure out how to relax around me. If there’s something I can do to help, I will, but it’s going to come down to you.” You nod, embarrassment sending heat to your cheeks.
“I know it’s not always going to be possible, but if you could ask or give me a heads up when you’re going to kiss me, that might help?” You say after a long moment. He considers your words thoughtfully.
“What if we had a signal?” He asks and your brow furrows.
“What kind of signal?” You ask warily. He reaches out a hand for yours and you tentatively surrender one. He takes it in his absurdly warm palm, and then he brushes two fingers over the inside of your wrist before tapping three times.
“How’s that?” He asks. You glance down at your linked hands. It’s subtle enough. It could work. You nod, slowly and Javy smiles.
“Yeah, that could work.” You whisper and he releases your hand. You study your hand when it comes back to your lap like you’ll see some kind of mark of his touch. Like a piece of him will linger.
“One last thing,” he says and you look up from your lap and he waggles his eyebrows playfully. “You’re not allowed to fall in love with me.” You barely suppress a derisive snort as you scowl at him. It just makes him laugh and the sound takes your breath away. If his smile is the sun, his laugh is its rays. You feel your nerves melt away as the sound fills your ears and spreads warmth throughout your body from head to toe. He pauses his laughing to fix you with a firm look even as his eyes dance with mirth. “I mean it, Roadie, no falling in love with me.” You roll your eyes.
“You don’t have to worry about that.” You won’t be the fool twice. You know better this time.
***
The next morning as you’re walking into school when your phone buzzes and you open it to see a message from Big Sexy ;), “I know you’ll probably be teaching so you can’t watch, but just so you know, the press conference is at 8 this morning. Speak now or forever hold your peace.” He’s giving you an out. While you appreciate it, you didn’t let him kiss you in his kitchen to lose your nerve now and you type back a quick negative response before steeling yourself and making a beeline for your classroom. You don’t feel like fielding Jeremy’s questions before the press conference. You’ll let someone else control the narrative. You’ve settled in and you’re going over your lesson plan when Josie knocks on the edge of your doorway and you look up, waving her in. She perches on the edge of her desk, studying your expression carefully.
“Reuben said they're holding the press conference this morning. How are you feeling?” You shrug.
“He’s not my real boyfriend. I don’t really feel anything.” Josie gives you a skeptical look.
“You know Jeremy and the others are going to start hounding you the second they find out, don’t you?” You sigh, then, taking a moment to take a long sip from your coffee mug.
“If they hound me that means they buy the story and that’s what we want, right? Sure, I’m not exactly looking forward to it, but there’s not much you can do to disprove an official statement from one of the parties, especially the one with everything to lose.” Josie regards you skeptically and you know she doesn’t buy your cool as she leaves the classroom and while you’re more nervous than ever you can’t focus on that right now. Any minute your students will be arriving and you need to be ready for them. They need you right now.
***
By the time lunch rolls around you’ve forgotten all about the press conference so when you step into the teacher’s lounge and Jeremy automatically calls out to you, you’re taken by surprise.
“Damn Roadie, you’re just full of surprises aren’t you?” You turn to see a smirk pulling at his lips as he regards you. “How on earth did you manage to land yourself a big bad NHL player boyfriend?” You ignore the subtle dig in his words as you struggle to clear your mind. You’d gone over your cover story with Javy last night until you were almost convinced it was true yourself. You take a breath to center yourself before you answer Jeremy.
“We met at Thanksgiving, I went with Josie to the Dogfighters’ Thanksgiving dinner.”
“That right, Josie?” You turn to see Josie standing just inside the doorway, a cool look on her face.
“Yeah, friends and family were invited so I invited Roadie since she didn’t have anywhere else to go.” You wince at her words. That part of the story is true. Josie had invited you except you’d turned her down and had spent the holiday curled up on your couch watching old movies and eating spaghetti and turkey meatballs followed by ice cream straight from the carton. In hindsight, you’re glad you hadn’t gone since Josie had arrived back at school on Monday recounting the chaos that had ensued at the event. None of your colleagues knew that, however. “Oh hey, this is a pleasant surprise.” You’re jerked out of your thoughts and you turn back to Josie as Javy appears in the doorway, carrying a bouquet of flowers and a takeout bag. You do your best to school your expression of surprise at the unexpected visit. You’re sure some of it seems believable enough, though as you unglue your feet from the floor and cross over to where Josie’s ushering Javy into the teacher’s lounge as the other teachers gape. You shuffle over to him, a nervous smile plastered on your face. You will your voice not to shake as you greet him.
“Javy! I didn’t know you were coming by today?” You hide your wince at the light accusation in your tone and try to compensate by carefully pushing up slightly on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. The gesture feels strange and his skin is warm under your lips. The skin pulls under your touch as Javy smiles and when you pull away you see the mirth dancing in his eyes as leans down to reciprocate the action, smooth lips pressing to your heated cheeks.
“Hey beautiful, thought I’d come by and surprise you.” You try to ignore the way your stomach flutters at the term of endearment as it falls easily from his tongue. “I thought we could have lunch together?” He holds up the paper bag in his hand and you nod, trying to make your earnestness to escape the prying eyes of your colleagues seem lovestruck in nature.
“Sure, baby.” The word feels strange and foreign in your tongue and you have to hold back from grimacing in discomfort. “We can eat in my classroom,” you nod towards the hallway and Javy takes your lead. Once you’re in the empty hallway, the kids all herded into the lunchroom for the next hour, you glance at him to see him grinning at you. You roll your eyes and lead him to your classroom. You hold the door for him as he enters before leading him to your desk. You realize quickly that yours is the only adult-sized chair in the room but Javy seems unfazed as he sets the flowers and bag on your desk and snags one of the tiny chairs from the nearest cluster of desks. You don’t manage to stifle your giggle as he folds his giant body into the tiny chair and his eyebrows raise, the corners of his mouth crinkling at your reaction. You feel your cheeks heat as you take your seat across the desk from him. He’s tall enough that he manages to reach the height of your desk well enough and he starts to unpack the paper bag, the smell of Thai food hitting your nostrils.
“So…” he says as he passes you a foil-wrapped packet that smells simply heavenly, “how’s your morning been, baby?” He smirks and your cheeks heat even more as you duck your head to escape the humor dancing in his eyes.
“I panicked, okay.” You sputter as you focus on keeping the noodles in the foil from spilling across your desk as you break the chopsticks that Javy passes to you. He chuckles.
“Well practice makes perfect, I guess.” He digs into his food and the two of you eat in silence for a moment before you can’t hold your question in, anymore.
“What are you doing here?” You ask and hate how blunt it sounds.
Javy raises an eyebrow at you as he finishes chewing. “I figured after this morning’s announcement, there would be damage control to do, so I figured I’d get ahead of it. What better way to sell a fake relationship than to bring my girlfriend lunch?” He shrugs. “Plus I figured you could use the backup. People are bound to have questions and actions speak louder than words.” You nod, taking another bite of your food.
“Well, thanks,” you say, trying to fight off the awkwardness as he waves you off.
“This is much better than eating in the conference room with dozens of sweaty guys, believe me.” He looks around your room, taking in the bright decorations and your students’ art hung on the wall. “So, do you teach art too?” He asks.
You shrug. “It’s kindergarten, I teach everything.”
“Damn, Roadie,” Javy looks genuinely impressed. “Even math?”
“I mean, math for Kindergartners usually just consists of counting, shapes, and basic addition and subtraction but yeah,” you giggle a little as he laughs.
“Right, I almost forgot. But that’s still important, though, they need that to be able to do the rest.” He says, giving you a pointed look and you smile shyly.
“That’s why I love it so much,” you admit. “You get to make such a big impact on these kids’ lives.”
“It’s a big responsibility,” he points out.
“It’s a privilege.” You say, a soft smile on your lips and he gives you a look that you can almost convince yourself is pride.
The two of you fall back into silence as you eat until Javy speaks up again. “Do you still make octopus stew in kindergarten?” You can’t help the laugh that jumps out of your throat. Javy regards you curiously as you nod through your laughter.
“Yeah… yeah we still make octopus stew. We’re actually doing that next week.” His eyes brighten and you hesitate before you offer. “You could come if you wanted to? I mean just for the octopus stew part? We usually ask a couple of parents to come help out since there’s cooking involved, we could use the extra hands.” You can’t help the nerves that blossom in your stomach but Javy’s wide grin makes them worth it.
“I’d love to,” he beams before his brow furrows. “What day is it? We’re leaving on a road trip next Wednesday.” His face falls slightly and you can’t help the pang of sympathy that laces through you. You’ve seen it on Reuben’s face before. The realization that his job is stealing yet another special moment from him. He’s missed class plays, dance recitals, and more and it doesn’t get easier.
“Octopus Stew is on Tuesday,” you say with a soft smile, mentally running through the emails you’re going to need to send to the parents volunteering to successfully move around your lesson plans. The grin on Javy’s face is like the sun and you can’t help but feel relief, knowing that your slightly selfish plan is going to be worth it.
“Perfect, I’ll be there!” He announces and you can’t help the smile that his excitement brings to your lips. “By the way, are you doing anything after work today? The rest of the guys really want to meet you, and I thought maybe you could swing by the arena?” You hesitate and his gaze softens. “They’re not all assholes, I promise, you just got stuck with me.” You feel your cheeks heat at that.
“S-sure I can be there,” you murmur and he reaches a hand over, brushing your fingers with his. Somehow you don’t flinch away from his touch. “I’ll be there.” You say with more conviction and he squeezes your fingers gently.
You hear the bell go off in the hallway and glance at the clock, surprised. The moment is broken and you hurry to clear up your lunch trash. Javy stands, taking your lead, and carefully returns his chair to its desk. He holds out a hand to take the lunch trash and you pass it to him, appreciatively. Your eyes fall on the flowers, they’re a simple but bright bouquet of seasonals. “Thanks for the flowers, by the way,” you say and Javy turns to look at them from where he’s almost at the doorway.
“Oh, you don’t have to thank me. You’re my girlfriend, after all, flowers are a given. Do you have a vase?” He glances around the room, looking for one. You shake your head.
“Not here, no. I have some at home but I’ll probably get something plastic for the classroom in case of accidents.” Javy nods, his eyes thoughtful.
“Noted, I’ll bring a vase next time. I’ll see you this evening, Roadie.” He’s gone before you can comprehend his words and a soft smile graces your lips as you gather your lesson plans for the afternoon before heading down the empty hallway to pick up your students from the lunchroom, Javy long gone.
A/N: Sooo Day 1 of the ruse is going well so far! How do we think the rest of the guys are going to react to Roadie?
#false confidence // sdd#fc // sdd#san diego dogfighters au#san diego dogfighters#san diego dogfighters hockey au#top gun maverick hockey au#top gun#top gun maverick#tgm#javy coyote machado x reader#javy coyote machado x you#javy machado x you#javy machado x reader#javy coyote machado#javy machado#coyote x you#coyote x reader#no use of y/n
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"well, look what we have here. welcome aboard, princess."
a macheresin pirate x prince au that has completely taken over my life. (@salemfrogtrials i blame you)
jake's the captain of the hidden dagger, one of the kingdom's most prolific pirate crews. he's cocky and arrogant and doesn't let anyone get close to him. javy is the crown prince, sheltered from birth and knowing nothing about the world. he runs away one day and gets kidnapped by jake's crew, who are ecstatic to have the prince as ransom. except, they quickly realize that using the prince as a bargaining chip won't work, and javy actually wants to stay.
jake decides to let the prince stay. and of course, they fall in love.
javy learns what it's like to be loved for who you are, not who you're expected to be; jake learns what it's like to be loved despite who you and others think you are.
(natasha is javy's knight who is leading the charge to rescue him. reuben and mickey are part of her crew. the rest of the daggers are a part of jake's crew.)
if you want to hear about the choices behind my designs ↓
jake: long hair and a beard because pirate lol, he's got fancy belts and necklaces and earrings and keeps a sword on him. he's got green on him bc he deviates slightly from your typical pirate color scheme, reflecting how despite his appearance, he is, in fact, a green flag. lol.
javy: his main color is purple because it reflects royalty. on his prince outfit, the orange represents rebellion as its his favorite color and a part of his individuality. he doesn't have his piercings or eyebrow slit before he runs away, but after he joins jake he does (probably a swordfight for the eyebrow). also. he's wearing jake's little belt tassel (the green one) after he becomes a proper pirate and jake gives it to him. he gets jewelry BUT he keeps the purple on his design because he's still a royal after all.
javy’s got white pants and jake has dark pants, and javy’s got a dark top while jake’s is white. it's a representation of their experiences being essentially opposites. HOWEVER they do share the same gold-orange color throughout their design- both on the bottom of their shoes, both on the jewel they wear (javy’s under his collar and jake’s on his belt). jake’s green sashes are closer to yellow on the color wheel which makes it more complementary to javy’s purple. over time, javy slowly gains bits and pieces of jake’s design and vice versa- specifically javy gets jake’s green and jake gets javy’s orange. javy wears dark pants like jake while jake starts wearing dark tops. essentially over time their color choices begin to match each other but they still keep individuality.
okay sorry ramble over. i will be returning to this. please enjoy!
#enthyrea art#macheresin#seriously this has taken over my life#the first piece is like. the fastest i've ever pumped out a fully rendered piece#jake: hiii your highness <3 you're our prisoner now#javy: oh fuck he's hot#have to hold myself back from just. writing 100k words of this AU#mickey and i have literally written this entire thing out already basically#if you see any more pirates from me no you dont (yes you do)#au: pirates#top gun fanart#top gun#top gun maverick#jake hangman seresin#javy coyote machado#coyote machado#hangman seresin#hangman x coyote#hangote#top gun hangman#top gun coyote#character design#pirate AU
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Glue Song (Pt. 2)
summary: you meet rooster and jake doesn’t know how to feel about it.
pairing: jake seresin x female reader
warnings: brief mention of death
a/n: more pining, friends to lovers, fluff x angst, rooster x hangman moment (?). part 3 comes next..!
word count: 2.2k
previous part | next part
Jake doesn’t know what gets on his nerves more.
The fact that Javy insisted to go help you grab more cookies from the kitchen, leaving him to brood in his seat alone or the fact that he’s been painfully watching Rooster struggle to squeeze his Bronco between your mini cooper and Jake’s very own Ford truck.
After a heated argument on which pilot should lend you a hand, Javy won on the basis that Jake should be the one to greet Rooster when he arrives. And so, Javy is able to escape the wrath of his seething friend with the most shiteating grin on his face as he got to follow you out back.
Replaying the scene back in his mind leaves Jake annoyed beyond belief, and now that he’s witnessing Rooster back out of the parking spot for the fifth time this evening, he feels his anger flare up even more.
Jake leans back in his seat, throwing his arms across his chest and watches his guest finally stroll through the front doors as if he’s not running late with another variation of his Hawaiin button up slung over his thick shoulders.
Rooster doesn’t know what to say as he carefully steps inside, spotting Hangman sitting by himself. He keeps a neutral expression on but doesn’t know what to make of his view. Hangman is waiting for him by a table of love-themed baked goods. He can't help but to imagine how Natasha would kick him in the balls laughing once he tells her what he’s currently seeing.
Rooster takes in Hangman’s appearance as he gets closer, bewildered that his hair is styled nicely, instead of being slicked back by five pounds of gel. And he can’t recall a time where he’s seen Hangman dressed so casually before. For the first time ever, he acknowledges that Jake looks pretty good.
As he takes his last step over towards the table, Rooster hesitantly speaks.
“Look man. I don’t know if you misunderstood what Mav said but—”
“Sit.” Jake asks through clenched teeth, peeved that Rooster would even assume he’d have any kind of romantic interest in him.
Though slightly horrified at the situation, Rooster obliges anyway—taking a seat, awkwardly adjusting himself in the tiny chair.
The sight was laughable. The two grown men were basically swallowing the small seats they sat in with an array of goodies displayed between them.
Jake looks across the table, his eyes silently trailing up and down Rooster’s body.
Rooster can’t tell if he’s trying to size him up or he’s simply curious about how many Hawaiian printed shirts he owns.
Both men clear their throats and flinch at their synced mannerism.
Before they get a chance to fester in an awkward silence together, Jake feels his phone ring repeatedly in his front pocket.
Jake immediately recognizes the unique text-tone he specifically set for your contact.
Rooster curiously watches Hangman, the man across from him practically shoves half his arm down his pants to grab his phone, a small smile replacing his previously annoyed expression.
Angel
Me and Javy are warming up the cookies now!!
Is that his truck out front???
I'm so excited Jack!!
We’re coming out soon I promose :))
His grin peers back at him in the reflection of his screen as he rereads your typos, you were so happy for him that you didn’t even bother to look over your own spelling.
“Who’s Jack? :(“ he quickly types out in response, shoving his phone back in his pocket.
Jake bunglingly shifts in his seat, attempting to find a comfortable position after realizing that Rooster had been watching him check his phone.
“Coyote is joining us in a bit, and my other friend too.” He speaks so fast Rooster would’ve never caught what he said if he wasn’t paying close attention.
“Oh, alright” he responds.
They both synchronously stare down at the food in front of them before making brief eye contact with each other.
Both men quickly retract their gaze, pretending to look around the shop–unsure if they want to make eye contact with one another again.
Rooster stares off in the direction of the kitchen and spots Coyote walking out, his head looking back over his shoulder to smile at a girl following closely behind him.
“Wait, watch where you’re going.” you draw back your smile, a worried look settling on your face as you kick at Javy’s ankle, alerting him to look ahead.
Pulled in by the sound of your voice, Jake quickly averts his eyes in your direction.
You and Javy are both wearing the new bear paw oven mitts he helped you pick out last weekend as you carry out red velvet cookies together.
He can’t ignore the way his throat tightens as you two make your way over.
Jake doesn’t know what’s gotten into him. He blinks to regain his composure, realizing that he spaced out so severely within the last few minutes that he didn't realize that you and Javy had already politely greeted Rooster and you had taken a seat next to him.
He drops his gaze down to your knee as it bounces nervously, unaware that your leg is slightly rubbing against the side of his jeans.
His eyes trail up to your face, and follows your line of sight. You’re eagerly staring down at the cookies you just put out with Javy, as the two pilots sitting across from you are engaged in friendly conversation.
“Try her stuff.” Jake speaks up, interrupting the conversation.
He quickly rams a cookie into his mouth with his right hand, as his left gently grabs your knee, halting you from giving yourself carpet burn from the way you were furiously rubbing against his denim pants.
Jake feels you look up at him appreciatively from his peripheral as he shovels a chocolate croissant into his already stuffed cheeks next, urging his fellow aviators to join him.
“Mmm so damn good,” he moans—closing his eyes, appreciating the way the chocolate swirls on his tongue.
“Yeah?’ Your shoulders shake, laughing at his reaction. Despite how many times he’s already tried your baking, Jake has never failed to display his enjoyment every time.
Rooster and Javy quickly reach for the closest treat as Jake shoots them a spine chilling look while you distracted yourself, trying to find a napkin from the empty table behind you.
Once you’re fully facing everyone again, you hand Jake his much needed napkin and place a napkin in front of everyone else too.
Javy thanks you by shooting a thumbs up at you since his mouth is full, and you Bradley shyly grins at your kind gesture.
Rooster then takes a big bite of one of your red velvet cookies and feels a wave of nostalgia hit him right in the chest.
“Oh wow. This is amazing,” he compliments you, wide eyed.
It tastes so much like his mother’s cookies that it makes his heart twinge.
“I don’t remember the last time I had something home-made. This is great,” he admits to the group with a smile.
Javy and Jake stills at his statement, knowing the reason why he hasn’t eaten anything home-made in awhile. The duo learned recently that his mother passed not long ago, and his father died in an accident involving Maverick while he was young.
“If you come around here I can whip up something for you. What do you like, Rooster?” you offer, lips pulled into a small smile.
Jake knows that you mean it too. It wasn’t just to make conversation or to distract from the topic—he can almost envision you keeping yourself past store hours to practice new recipes for Rooster.
“These cookies are great as is.” he returns your smile, appreciative that you didn’t attempt to pry or send him a look of pity he’s grown accustomed to receiving.
“How about you come around in the morning with Jake? Maybe it’ll count as bonding time to your boss.” you joke.
Jake feels himself choke on his croissant, Javy pushes a cup of water in his friend’s direction immediately.
Jake fervently nods his head no at your statement after clearing his throat with water.
“Jacob Daniel Seresin.” you scolded, appalled by his manners.
Bradley smiles watching the once cocky pilot he knew shrink in his seat like a kicked puppy as you stare him down.
“Sounds good.” Rooster agrees to watch Jake sulk further.
“Hey are you guys coming down to the Hard Deck next week? Phoenix convinced Penny to reserve the space for just the navy Friday night” Rooster suddenly brings up, picking up another cookie for himself.
“Oh. Yeah I’ll be there, what about you two?” Javy looks at you and Jake.
Jake can practically see the wheels in Javy’s head turning and he wants to splash the rest of his water on him to halt his scheming.
You bite down on your tongue, a nervous habit you could never rid yourself from. Jake has never really brung you around his friends, besides Javy and now Rooster. He knows you run on the introverted side, you’re comfortable meeting others in small intimate settings like this. But a bar–the Hard Deck? Full of boisterous members of the navy running on a couple beers? Jake even grows nervous for you.
“What do you say Hangman? We can have her as our plus one.” Javy offers, slightly provoking Jake.
He looks over at you, trying to decipher your expression but it's unreadable.
“If that's okay with you guys?” you combat his nervous stare with a smile, reaching down to play with his fingers that were currently splayed on your knee.
Jake relaxes a bit, feeling your fingers twist at his graduation ring–but the anxiety still sits at the back of his throat like bile.
You don’t want to disappoint Jake and rudely decline the invite. That was probably the last thing you wanted.
Who knows? Maybe you’ll have fun since Jake and Javy will be there. It’ll be nice to see Jake spend his weekend outside the walls of your apartment for once. You’ve been feeling guilty for keeping him inside so much, although he insisted there wasn't a place he’d rather be.
But you knew deep down, Jake was much more of a social butterfly than you were. He would thrive at a bar filled with people. Your chest warms, knowing that in a room full of others, Jake will always manage to shine and cast his presence onto everyone there like a mirrorball.
“I’ll take that as a yes” Javy grins as you both stare back at him.
Within the following days, Jake learns that he has to share his mornings before work with both you and Rooster.
He tries his best to be civil, making small talk with the two of you but he can’t help but to feel like he was kicked to the curb. His involvement in conversations grows less and less by the day, yet this doesn’t go unnoticed by you. You’ve attempted to pull Jake aside a few times but he insists that he and Rooster are already running late to base–leaving you defeated as you watch him walk past customers and make a beeline for the exit. You know there’s something clearly bothering him and you grow increasingly worried, watching him retract from you like this.
Unbeknownst to you, Jake has the same worried feeling weighing down on him.
Everyday, as you speak to Rooster–Jake takes the time to study your face, admiring your features, trying to commit them to memory–worried that one day he won’t get to see your face as often anymore. He feels his heart sink the second he looks over to Rooster and sees that the brunette has the same admiration for you in his eyes.
The feeling grows worse by the second–and Jake is unsure of what to do with himself.
You even tried to talk about it with him–but for some reason-Jake uses every excuse in the book to avoid the problem. Jake Seresin, a man who thrives off the thrill of confrontation can’t fathom the idea of having a possibly confrontational conversation with you. All because he doesn’t want to hear about what you think about Rooster. He doesn’t want to hear an ounce of praise for the man to leave your lips. He doesn’t want to learn that you grew close with Rooster like how you’ve grown close with him. It’s better if he doesn’t know anything, that would hurt less.
This morning he finds himself standing next to Rooster, dozing off as the mustached man animatedly speaks to you, his muscled body leaned over the counter you worked behind. The scene in front of him makes him feel so nauseous that he hasn’t even made an attempt to taste his latte, afraid that he won’t be able to stomach it.
“Jake?” you softly called out to him, pulling him out of his haze.
He looks up from his coffee and meets your stare from across the counter, he sees you bite down on your tongue–a nervous habit of yours. He feels even more sick.
“Am I still coming over to your place on Friday to get ready with you?” you look up at him hesitantly, afraid he’ll deny your request.
He feels guilt coat the roof of his mouth. You looked so scared to speak to him.
“Yeah I’ll see you Friday, Angel,” he assures you.
Your heart twists sadly at the term of endearment.
“And we’ll talk then?” you ask.
“We’ll talk then,” he reiterates.
thank you for reading, and as always-reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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not my gif! if anyone knows the creator please let me know!!
#jake seresin x oc#jake seresin#jake seresin x you#jake seresin x y/n#hangman fanfiction#hangman x reader#hangman x you#hangman fluff#hangman angst#jake seresin angst#tgm imagine#tgm au#tgm#top gun 2#javy machado#javy coyote machado#rooster top gun#bradley bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw#jake hangman seresin
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