#javy machado fic

[beyondthesefourwalls]

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. 

___

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!

[sushiwriterhere]

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.

[theharddeck]

santa baby (been an awful good girl) // coyote x f!reader

pairing: javy coyote machado x fem!reader (no y/n)

synopsis: coyote dresses up as santa + reader is only human = reader and coyote get it on in santa's workshop

word count: 6.6k

warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: unprotected sex, explicit PiV sex, a bit of dumbification, slight overstimulation, lowkey desecrating the concept of christmas but like in a hot way

A/N: i...i have no excuse. thinking of javy being dorky during sex has effectively ruined me. merry chrysler

The second Sunday in December was the tree-lighting at Miramar. 

The event entailed, of course, the lighting of the tree at the center of base, but also a crafts market, an ugly-Christmas sweater competition, and breakfast-for-dinner, but most importantly: a meet and greet with Santa. 

While it wasn’t required attendance for any of the Service members, most everyone who wasn’t on leave found some way to be involved. You found yourself at the cookie decorating station, trying to teach kids a modicum of restraint, and sneaking glances at your boyfriend over in Santa’s Workshop. 

That’s right, Javy Machado – distinguished Lieutenant, Louisiana’s finest, and your personal hero – was currently drowning in red velvet and faux ermine, dressed up as jolly old Saint Nick. His diamond-sharp jawline was hidden behind a monstrosity of a fake beard, but he had managed to master the twinkle in his eye. The night was winding down, but he showed no waning energy, just endearing interest in each and every child that made its way into the small structure. 

You could just barely see him through the front window of the Workshop, but every time you looked over at him, your heart fluttered. 

It was the way he hunched his shoulders, clearly trying to diminish his size to make himself seem less intimidating. 

It was the way he met each child’s eye, exuding comfort and kindness. 

It was how after a couple of minutes, even the shyest child seemed to relax against him, how their smiles brightened and their giggles echoed around the family center. 

You knew Javy was a total sweetheart, but it made you so proud to see how special he was making this Christmas for each of these kids, some of whom were having a dark season with their parents being deployed. 

There was a clatter and you looked away from the workshop to find RJ, one of Payback’s kids, looking guiltily up at you, holding an entire paper plate covered in Snowman sprinkles. The faint outline of a sugar cookie was visible under the blue-and-white pile, but not by much. 

Good thing it was only the ninetieth time this had happened today. 

“Happens all the time,” you said brightly, keeping your voice happy so the kid wouldn’t panic, and thinking of a diversionary topic. “Did you see Santa already?”

RJ nodded, willingly distracted. 

“He said he’d get me a Lego set!” he said, the slight lisp in his voice absolutely adorable. “A Lego set!” you repeated, folding the plate slightly so that you could pour the excess sprinkles into a dixie cup. “One of the Star Wars ones??”

“Yep!” RJ told you excitedly, his eyes widening, the sprinkles dilemma forgotten. “With an X-wing, so I can have a plane, like Daddy!” 

You finished pouring off the sprinkles, and turned the still-overly-sprinkled-but-now-recognizable-as-a-cookie plate back to RJ. He grinned up at you through a missing tooth and you couldn’t help but smile back. 

Payback might be nearly as bossy as Mav when you were up in the air, but he did have damn cute children. 

You were halfway through helping RJ with a sleigh-shaped cookie when the Christmas music they’d been cranking turned off with reverb, and someone cheerily announced over the loudspeaker that it was time for the festivities to draw to a close. Overhead lights turned on, dispelling the ambiance created by thousands of christmas lights, but you were halfway through the cookie, so you two kept working on it. 

What were they going to do? 

At some point, Reuben came over with a couple wrapped packages tucked under his arm, giving you a grateful look for keeping an eye on his son. 

The only warning you had was RJ’s reverent gasp and the widening of his eyes before you felt familiar hands on your waist and an unfamiliar beard scratching your neck. 

“Santa,” RJ breathed, and you tried to delicately step out of Javy’s grasp as he realized he couldn’t exactly greet his real-life girlfriend while there were still kids who believed in the magic of Santa within eyesight.

Javy cleared his throat and you pressed your lips together to hide a smile as you watched your boyfriend stand up straighter under the boy’s worshipful gaze.  

“RJ,” Javy said, his voice pitched lower than normal, to disguise it, and you noticed he was avoiding Reuben’s gaze pretty determinedly. “Doing some serious cookie decorating, I see?”

RJ nodded animatedly, holding up his plate to show “Santa” and nearly tipping both cookies off it in the process. Reuben dove for it, and you tried not to laugh, leaning lightly against Javy. You noticed absently that he must’ve taken the suit padding out, because you could feel his stomach through the red velvet.

Unfortunately, when RJ looked up from his plate, he noticed your lean, as well as Javy’s hand on your hip. He frowned, his small forehead wrinkling, and he tipped his head up at Javy. 

“That’s Coyote’s girlfriend,” he told Javy archly. 

“Uh,” Javy stalled, and you again found yourself fighting the urge to laugh, “yes. And…that’s why I want to steal her away for a moment. Coyote’s been a really good boy this year, and I want to talk about what kind of present he would want.”

RJ’s eyes narrowed, and he was about to say something else, before Reuben gave an exasperated sigh. 

“For God’s sake,” he muttered, reaching for RJ’s cookie plate, effectively poaching the boy’s attention. 

“Let’s show these cookies to your Ma, yeah, Junior?” he asked, before turning back to you and Javy. “And you two– behave.”

He spun on his heel, and RJ waved enthusiastically to you before following his father happily, and you turned to Javy, smiles breaking over both of your faces. 

“Not your most graceful, lieutenant,” you teased him, but Javy was already looking around the recreation center. 

With the overhead lights on, and the Christmas music off, it was rapidly emptying. Teams had already been tasked to come in tomorrow to clean it out, so for now everyone was clearing out, trying to get their kids home before the sugar crash set in, and Javy’s gloved hand found one of yours. 

“Come on,” he said quietly, in his normal voice, and you followed him instinctively when he tugged lightly on your grasp. 

You were surprised when he led you back over to Santa’s Workshop, and you ducked into the entryway. 

It wasn’t a large space, something constructed of red and green painted plywood pieces, barely big enough to accommodate Santa’s throne. The throne itself was a replica of the Iron Throne that Fanboy had paid a preposterous amount for, and had been convinced to donate to the greater good. He had then had to be led away from in agony, as Army Wives sanded down the pointy edges, and repainted the swords as candy canes.

“Nice digs, Santa,” you said wryly, your sentence ending on a squeak as Javy pulled you into his arms. 

Kissing him with the fake beard was funny, but his mouth was distracting enough that you soon forgot. 

You melted into him as you always did, your hands pressed against his broad chest. Javy’s strong arms banded around you as he kissed you hungrily, like he’d been waiting, like he’d been missing you. He tasted like peppermint, like the candy canes the “elves” (Natasha and Jake) had forced on him any time he started looking bored. 

When he pulled back, you were breathless, blinking up at him slowly. 

Javy smiled at you softly, his own chest rising and falling underneath your hands. He was so unbelievably handsome, always, but you loved his sweet smile. 

Especially how it looked from this close. 

“Hi,” you whispered, and Javy groaned, leaning down to kiss you again. 

His tongue swept into your mouth, and your knees almost buckled, causing you to cling to his shoulders. He was so strong, so big, and you knew he loved holding you, nearly as much as you treasured being held.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against your lips, and you felt your skin heat. You were just wearing a festive sweater under a pinafore-style skirt, aiming for comfort and festivity over something that accentuated your figure.

“It’s just a–” you tried, but Javy made a disapproving sound and kissed you firmly, interrupting your rationalization. 

“Beautiful,” he insisted, after a moment, and you nodded dazedly. 

Javy hummed, approving, and he shifted to pull off his gloves. A moment later, you felt his index finger under your chin. He tilted your head up towards him, and his kiss turned gentle, indulgent. 

“I could feel you watching me, you know,” Javy murmured, between kisses. 

 You shivered when his thumb brushed over your jaw. 

“Hard not to,” you managed to say. 

Javy laughed, a low, warm sound, that you felt like a caress. 

“What is it, honey,” he teased, brushing light kisses up your cheek, and ducking his head to reach behind your ear, “the red velvet doing it for you?”

You let out a breathy gasp when you felt his teeth ghost over your earlobe. 

“‘Course not,” you mumbled, but it didn’t sound convincing. 

It actually wasn’t the red velvet. 

It wasn’t even how sweet he had been with the kids, which was pretty darn sweet. 

“What was it?” Javy asked, as he kissed down your neck. 

You shivered as his tongue and teeth teased you. When he reached the collar of your sweater, he nosed it aside, and sucked lightly at the space where your neck met your shoulder.

“The glasses,” you blurted. 

You felt him hesitate, and he pulled back, looking at you amusedly. 

“The glasses?” he echoed, and you tried not to squirm. 

“Well, and the beard,” you admitted. “Not the actual aesthetics, just, like, the idea of them…the idea of older you. Silver fox Javy, you know, graying and—”

With a whoosh, the overhead lighting in the recreation center shut off. 

You turned to look out the window, surprised to find that no one else was left in the recreation center. They had cleared out quickly and the large room was suddenly dark, except for the lights strung around the “roof” of Santa’s Workshop. 

When you looked back at Javy, his teeth gleamed as he smiled.

His hand trailed down his arm till it tangled with yours, and he pulled you deeper into the workshop. 

“Javy, we should go–” you started to protest, but you broke off when he sat on the throne. 

The twinkling lights cast a golden glow into the otherwise dark room, and even in the shadows, Javy looked so damn sexy. He shifted in the seat, his thighs spreading, and planted his boots on the ground. He still held your hand, and you really did feel like you were standing in front of a throne, a queen to his king.

“It’s just us, honey,” he said, his voice deep, and you were having a hard time coming up with a response. Not when he looked this good, not when he was looking at you like that, not when you could already see the outline of his hardening dick against the inside of his velvet suit. 

God, what a thought–velvet and Javy. 

Your mouth practically watered, and when Javy tugged lightly on your hand, you let him pull you. You stood between his spread legs, the throne tall enough that you barely had to bend down to kiss him. This kiss was impossibly slow, leisurely. 

Javy’s hands trailed down your body, settling under your ass as he pulled you closer to him. You whimpered as his touch pulled you flush against him, his body hard against you, and his fingers gripping the flesh of your ass. Your own hands ran over his chest, around the back of his neck, anchoring you to him.

His big hands kneaded your ass, and you whimpered against his mouth when he guided you slightly sideways, against where his dick rested on his thigh.  

You felt your kisses turn lazy as he overwhelmed you. 

His big hands, his strong thighs, his hot cock, his broad chest…you felt your knees weaken as the kiss deepened. 

Javy knew, and he pulled back, giving you space. His hand found yours again, and he led you from between his legs, before reaching under your skirt. 

His touch was slow, certain, as his fingers trailed up your thighs to your waistband, where he found the edge of your tights, and slid them down your legs. He went slowly, and you were grateful for it; your head was spinning and you didn’t feel like you could catch your breath. You watched as he pulled the tights down your thighs, prompting you to step out of your shoes first. 

“Here, honey,” he prompted, guiding you to balance on the thick toes of his boots, so you wouldn’t have to stand on the floor, before he peeled your tights off. 

That thoughtfulness, combined with the determined carefulness with which he undressed you, sent another wave of arousal for you, and you followed his instruction without thinking. 

His hands were back on your legs then, reaching under your skirt again, up and up, and you shivered when his hands ghosted over the front of your underwear. 

“Were you telling the truth?” he murmured, his voice low, and you pressed your lips together to trap a whine inside your throat. “Am I gonna find you worked up under here?” 

You weren’t sure until his fingers pressed between your thighs. 

And then you moaned, you couldn’t help it. Javy’s fingers pressed into your center over your panties, his touch collecting your arousal and you felt the drag of wetness between his finger, the thin fabric, and your skin. 

Javy hummed his approval, and his pleasure had you bowing into him. 

“Javy,” you whispered, not sure what you were asking for, but certain he would know. 

“C’mere, baby,” he said softly, pulling you into his lap, his hands not leaving your panties, but still keeping you covered by your skirt. He guided you over his thighs, your legs spreading to rest in his lap, and you immediately were obsessed with the feeling of velvet stretched over his strong thighs. 

You looked up at his expression, and you felt your heart flutter. 

Christ, he was so beautiful. 

His expression was one of intense focus, but the panes of his face were so gorgeous, all the more for the fondness between the both of you. 

You pressed yourself up to kiss him, knowing you’d stumble over finding the words to tell him. Javy’s lips were so soft, his mouth so gentle, and the hand that wasn’t under your skirt cupped the back of your neck. The tenderness in his touch coupled with the strength in his hands was a heady combination, and you melted into his arms again. 

After a couple long, sweet kisses, you felt his hands move against you. 

You broke away from his kiss, breath catching as Javy dragged a thick finger over your now soaking panties. 

“You’re so warm here,” Javy murmured, his voice almost reverent, and your hands splayed over the red coat, grasping whatever you could. The pressure of his hand and the deep timbre of his voice were enough to drive you mad, and he knew it. 

“You feel so good, honey, so inviting…” Javy continued, and he pushed your panties aside. 

You whimpered at the first brush of his fingers against your core, slickened by your arousal, and warm against your skin. Your fingers scrambled to undo the red coat, fumbling with the buttons until you had the jacket undone, and you could feel the familiar cotton of his white undershirt. 

It wasn’t enough, you needed his skin. 

“Off,” you mumbled, and Javy chuckled as you pulled weekly at the bottom of his undershirt. It took some maneuvering, but you got the jacket off, then the undershirt, and then decided the beard and hat – while they had their charm – needed to go as well. 

And then you were breathless for a whole other reason. 

“You look like a damn fireman calendar,” you told him, your voice somewhere between amused and chagrined at the perfection that was a shirtless Javy Machado in red velvet pants and thick black boots, reclining in a garish throne. You decided that indulging the fantasy couldn’t hurt, and you guided the suit jacket up over his shoulders again. You tipped your head to the side, regarding your amused boyfriend.  

“Some mom in New Jersey would lose her shit,” you told him honestly, and it probably should’ve made you jealous, but it made you just so damn thankful he was all yours. 

You watched Javy’s abs contract as he laughed, pulling you back to him, and you smiled as he kissed you. You loved that it was like this with him – playful and fun, as well as just so fucking hot. 

It only took a moment for the laughter to fade from your kiss, and Javy’s hand was back inside your panties a moment later. 

He pulled a finger through your folds and your head fell back at his tease. He gathered your arousal with his finger, pulling his hand back up to the top of your slit. He found your clit easily, a familiar path, and when he pressed firmly, your legs jolted. 

“You’re Coyote’s girl, aren’t you?” he said thickly, and you wondered if he was thinking back to what RJ had said, or if he just liked the thought of you being his. Either way, you nodded weakly, overwhelmed by the pattern he traced over your clit. 

Javy turned his head so he could kiss your neck again, his lips pressing into you, tongue teasing you in a motion that mirrored his fingers at your core. You leaned into him, loving his strength and his focus on you. His hand, his mouth, his broad chest, all had your head swimming, and building up a heat within you. 

Your hips were moving, rocking into him, and you felt empty, needy. 

“Answer the question, honey,” he murmured into your neck, and he pulled back his hand to readjust. 

“Yes, Javy,” you breathed, forming the words feeling like a gargantuan effort, “yours.”

“Damn right,” he said, and then a finger was pushing through your folds as his thumb traced over your clit. 

You moaned as he pushed into you, a steady intrusion and just what you wanted. You rocked your hips into his touch, seeking more, deeper, and Javy chuckled. 

“Easy, baby,” he said softly, and you shook your head. 

“Need you, Javy,” you protested. His finger was thick, brushing into you, but you knew it wasn’t enough, knew it wasn’t what you needed. He grunted, shifting again, and then another finger was between your legs. Javy’s hand on your hip angled your hips downward, and your mouth fell open when he lifted his palm so you could grind your clit against it. 

His fingers inside you were pressing deep, stretching you, and you welcomed the width of them as you ground into his palm. 

“Baby, fuck,” you panted, and you felt his hips jerk up into you. 

Which had the opposite effect than what he had intended. 

Because his fingers were good, and his hand was good, and everything felt so fucking good– but you knew what was between his legs. And his hand wasn’t enough. 

“You need to be fucked, don’t you, honey,” Javy asked hotly, his voice low in your ear. You nodded desperately, your hips working against his fingers eagerly. He’d fill you so good, fuck you so full, and you needed it, needed him. 

You were overheating in your sweater, nearly wild with wanting him so bad, but you were taking everything he’d give you, always would. 

“Please, baby,” you whispered, and it sounded like a whine. You felt his hips press up again, an unintentional response, and your hips worked faster. 

“‘s too fast, sweetheart,” Javy said, but it sounded like maybe he was trying to convince himself too. “You’re not ready…”

You moaned, your head dropping to his shoulder. 

You knew he was right, knew you had to be worked up to taking his cock, but you wanted to be full of him, wanted to feel like his, wanted him to push everything else out of your mind with his dick. 

“Please,” you whimpered, unafraid to beg, and you felt Javy’s breath catch. 

“Cum for me first, honey, come on,” he said determinedly, and you would’ve scowled at him for his stubbornness, but he was working your body so fucking well. 

His fingers were pressing deeper inside of you, searching for the spot that would tip you over the edge. He knew when he found it because your whole body seized, and he fucking cooed, pleased and proud. His fingers worked faster inside of you, his palm grinding back into your clit, and you felt your body hurtling towards completion in spite of yourself. 

You whimpered his name, and Javy soothed you, his other hand falling to your ass again. He pressed you into him, shushing you as you trembled, and it was too much, too fast. 

Your orgasm broke through you, heat crashing over you as your boyfriend rocked you in his lap. You were shaking, you were pretty sure you were babbling, as Javy worked you through your orgasm, his strong fingers pulling steadily inside of you. 

You shuddered as you came down, the world fading from technicolor to the dark light of the rec center, and the ringing in your ears quieted enough to hear Javy murmuring praise into your ear. 

“So beautiful, honey, always so beautiful when you come. Fuck, you did so good, coming on my hand like that, such a good girl for me, always so good…”

You were pressed into his chest, and you snuggled closer to his warmth, temporarily sated. You felt Javy shift his hand, pull your panties back down before sliding his hand out from under your skirt. A moment later, you felt his chest vibrate, and when you pulled back to look, his eyes were closed, head tilted back, his fingers between his lips.  

“So fucking sweet,” he said, almost to himself, licking your orgasm off his fingers. You felt your core clench at the sight of it, at the everything of him, and you tilted your head up to him, needing his kiss. 

Javy acquiesced, and you both moaned when his tongue swept into your mouth, sharing the taste of your release. It was so hot, everything he did was so hot, and impossibly, you needed him again. 

You reached down between you, your fingers skating over velvet until you found his cock. He was fully erect now, trapped against his thigh, and when your fingers coasted over him, Javy’s breath caught. 

You hummed when his hips pressed up into your touch. 

Even without your body moving to encourage him, his thighs pushed his dick towards your hand, and you loved the feeling of him. Even through the soft material, he was so hard, so thick, and you were desperate for him. 

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Javy panted, and you loved it when he sounded like that, like he was barely clinging to sanity. 

“Don’t want to wait,” you trailed your hand up to his tip. You couldn’t feel the details of him through the suit, but you knew his cock, you knew where he was sensitive, and Javy groaned as you traced over him. He mumbled something into your sweater, but you couldn’t hear it. 

“Please, Javy,” you whispered, and he groaned again. 

His hands were on your waist, and they tightened when he pulled back. You were surprised by the truly forlorn look on his face when he looked up at you, and your hand paused, suddenly concerned. 

“I don’t have a condom,” Javy said dejectedly. “I’m sorry, honey, it felt pervy to put it in a pocket around all the kids and I–”

“We don’t need one.”

You didn’t mean to say it, but as soon as the words were out, you knew you meant them. You’d been exclusive for a couple months now, and you were tested regularly, and you trusted him. The more you thought about it, the more you wanted it– the more you needed it, the more you knew it was exactly what you needed.

Javy was so still underneath you. 

He was looking at you so closely, hope and caution warring in his expression. 

“Are you absolutely certain, honey?” he asked, and the way he was double checking was all the confirmation you needed. 

You leaned down to rest your forehead against his, loving the way his eyes followed you, even this close. You lowered your head to his, pulling back slightly when he reached up to kiss you. 

“100%,” you said against his lips, and Javy moaned, something deep in his chest, the hottest sound you’d heard. 

He surged up to kiss you, and you felt dizzy from the lingering taste of you on his tongue. When he pulled back, you were both breathless, just shy of giddy.   

“You want me to fuck you bare, sweetheart?” he asked, and his soft question made you shiver. 

“Please,” you managed, and Javy huffed something that might’ve been a laugh. 

“You’re gonna let me into that pussy raw?” he breathed, and you squirmed in his lap. You wanted him so badly, needed to feel him, just him. “Gonna let me fill you up, feel this cock press all the way into you?”

“Javy,” you moaned his name, fully wanton, unable to say anything else. 

Your hips were already rocking into him, craving the stretch of him. 

He seemed to understand, guiding you back to stand on his boots, while he shifted, sliding the suit pants down his thighs, along with his underwear. The red velvet pooled over his boots, brushing the tops of your feet, but you barely noticed. Instead, your eyes were trained between his thighs, where his dick was resting against his stomach. 

He had such a pretty cock. 

Long and heavy, curved slightly to the side, a plump head that felt absolutely unreal when it breached you. You were practically salivating for it, and you pressed your thighs together as you balanced on his boots. 

“Now you,” he prompted, and he helped you out of your sweater and skirt. A moment later, you felt Javy pull your panties off, now with no worry for the suit. 

He dropped the thin fabric to the ground and you stepped out of it, his fingers curled up to cup you. God, you loved how he touched you, so certain and steady, like him. You clutched his shoulder for balance, and Javy’s hand tightened over your pussy, pulling him to you by your pussy. 

You might as well have been on a leash. 

You could feel your legs trembling, you wanted him so bad. He guided you back onto his lap, your legs spread over his thighs again, but it was different now, because you could feel him. When you settled, your core brushed against his hot cock, and you both hissed out a breath. Desperation seemed to build between you, and Javy finally, finally let go of you, reaching down to hold his cock steady as you lowered yourself towards him. 

“Give me that pussy, baby,” he commanded, his voice low, and you wanted nothing more. 

When you felt the first press of his fat cockhead between your legs you felt like weeping. It was the smallest brush, but he was so thick, so broad, a promise. You held your breath as you lowered yourself down, a high-pitched moan working out of you when the head of him was fully inside you.  

“Ah, honey,” Javy breathed. 

It sounded like he was praying, and you understood, because it was just the tip of him, but already you were dizzy with how full you felt. 

You looked between the two of you, at the vision of his fat cock pressing into you and you moaned again. You looked so good together; it was amazing that he fit, that you could take him. You could feel his eyes on you, knew he was watching your face as you were watching where you were joined. 

“It’s so good, Javy,” you whispered, your fingers tightening on his shoulders. Your nails were probably leaving marks, not that either of you cared. 

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Javy said, his voice hoarse, “it’s so fucking good. How does my dick feel inside you, just me, so close to you?”

Your eyes closed and your jaw fell slack as pushed yourself farther onto him. The stretch neared on painful but nowhere near painful enough to make you stop. You felt him, like he said, you felt so close to him. It felt perfect, like you were made for this stretch.

“Halfway, baby,” Javy encouraged, and you practically choked at his words. 

Fuck, you thought you were farther along than that; it felt like you’d gotten farther along than that. 

But when you opened your eyes, there were still inches left of his cock, thick, searing length that you needed to fit inside of you. Javy’s hands rubbed encouraging circles on your back, and you realized your thighs were shaking. It felt like you were boiling, melting, but you knew you couldn’t stop, knew you needed to take all of him. 

Still, you couldn’t stop your whimper, “It’s too big, baby.”

Javy’s hips jerked up at your words, and his head fell back against the throne as he forced himself down, to be still. You both groaned at the ground that gave you, and Javy’s chest rose and fell rapidly. 

“You can do it, honey, you’re doing so good for me, so damn good,” he gritted, and you loved him so much. 

Loved that he was fighting for control but he still found breath to encourage you, soothe you, care for you. Your face felt wet, from sweat or tears, you couldn’t tell, but you made it the final few inches. 

When your shaking thighs met Javy’s legs, you both let out a trembling breath, and Javy wrapped his arms around you tightly. 

“Just stay here for a moment, sweetheart,” he whispered, and you lay your head on his shoulder, resting. 

You were so full. 

So sated, so absolutely content, like all you ever wanted to be was in this moment. You wanted to wrap this feeling up, remember it forever, this closeness. This perfection. 

Javy’s hands were still moving slowly up your back, his fingers pressing gently over you. You recognized he was breathing deeply, whether to help you monitor yours or because he needed to be controlled, you weren’t sure. 

You felt out of your body. 

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, but it was long enough for the stretch to ease and your body to adjust. As you accepted him, as you welcomed him, your head cleared slightly, and you became aware of the gnawing need at your core. 

You needed him to move. 

You shifted in his lap, just slightly, and Javy’s breath punched out of him, as you clenched around him. 

“Jesus, honey, warn a man,” he choked, and you smiled. 

“Can’t help it,” you said, honestly, “just feels too good.”

“You’re telling me,” he murmured, turning towards you. 

He kissed you slowly, languidly, his tongue pressing between your lips as he gently pushed his hips upward. You felt your limbs go lax; he wasn’t even pumping but he was so damn deep inside you. It felt like a caress, something gentle and sacred, and you rested on him. 

He pressed up again, and he broke the kiss, his warm breath coasting over your lips. 

“Feels fucking unreal, honey,” he whispered hoarsely. “You’re so tight, so wet. God, I can feel every inch of you like this, feels like heaven.”

You hummed your agreement, turning your head to kiss along his jaw. Your lips brushed over his jawline, your tongue tasting his sweat, kissing him lightly as he rocked slowly into you again. Time felt like molasses, seeping so slowly by, and everything was distilled to the press of his hips into yours, of his cock straining inside of you. 

You whispered his name, and his hands slipped from your back to your waist. 

“Need something, honey?” Javy asked, and you whined in response. 

He was slow and steady, unhurried, stoking that heat inside of you. It was perfect, it was killing you, you needed more.

“Do you think,” Javy’s voice was still breathless, but took on a teasing lilt, “you were naughty or nice this year?”

You swatted at him weakly, his chest already huffing as he laughed. 

“You’re an idiot,” you mumbled, turning to a moan at another gentle rock.

“You know I’d know if you’d been bad or good,” he said, amusing himself even as you squirmed on his cock. “I’ve got a list.”

“I swear, Javy–” 

“Do you think you’ve been a good girl for Santa?”

God, he was such a dork, but he was also so hung, and you couldn’t handle both at once. But then Javy’s hands wrapped under your ass again. Before you could sigh in relief, he lifted you up, strong arms fully pulling you off his dick, and then thrusted up into you. 

You screamed. 

You couldn’t help it, you felt it so much, so deep, so fucking full of him, and Javy’s proud laugh turned to a groan as you clenched around his cock. He’d scrambled your brain with his dick, that was the only explanation, because you were moaning and you felt every limb shaking, and you needed him to do it again. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted someone to hear us,” he chastised you gently, and you whimpered at his words. 

You both knew no one was left in the rec center, probably not even the parking lot, but fuck if the idea of someone walking in on you fucking your boyfriend on this throne of his didn’t turn you on even more.  

Javy sighed, something awed. “Is that it, honey? You want someone to see you? Want someone to walk in on you milking this bare cock? Want someone to watch me shove it so deep into your pussy, see how badly you need it?”

He lifted you again before you could respond, his strong arms pulling you up and then bringing you back down into his lap, his cock thrusting deep into you. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could only want more, need more. You felt something drip out of your mouth, realized belatedly you were literally drooling. 

Javy swore when he felt it, too, and his hips moved faster. He held you steady as he pushed up into you, slamming his hips up to meet yours. 

It was fast, it was rough, it was so, so deep, and you could only think that you needed him to keep going. 

Javy was grunting with each thrust of his hips, a gorgeous sound that had your mind racing. You could feel his balls slapping against your ass as he drove into you, so deep, and you scrambled for purchase, your hands clinging to the back of the throne, anything for leverage as he pumped into you. 

“I wouldn’t care,” Javy said, almost growled, and you felt your core clench tighter on him at that tone in his voice. “Fucking Simpson could break in now, honey, and I wouldn’t care, I couldn’t stop. You think anything could stop me now that I’ve felt this bare cunt around my cock? Nah, it’s too good, it’s so damn good. Fuck, honey, you feel—”

He broke off, and you felt his teeth bite into your shoulder, grounding himself as he drove into you. Vaguely you knew you were close, knew it in an abstract scientific way, because you could barely string two thoughts together, much less words. 

You could only cling to him, to your sweet, strong, Javy.  

“Riding me so good, baby,” Javy mumbled into your shoulder. “Being so good for me, honey, you’re always so good for me. My best girl, my beautiful, best girl. Sweetheart, I’m close, are you close?”

You nodded, or maybe you wailed, but you knew he could hear you, because his thrusts got more frantic. His thrusts were getting shorter, and you realized it was because he couldn’t reach as deep as he wanted, as fast as he wanted. Javy made a noise of frustration and his thighs flexed, then he was lifting you. 

Still impaled on his cock, he shifted you, turned you, and then your back was pressed against the cool surface of the throne. Javy was between your legs, then, and you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him back into you. 

“Please, baby,” you whimpered, and Javy groaned in response. 

“Anything, fuck, you know that, sweetheart, anything,” he whispered, and then he grabbed the throne. 

All you could do was take it. 

Lie in the space between his arms, between his legs, clinging to him as Javy gripped the throne for leverage and thrust into you. You were held firm as he thrust into you, the new angle causing his dick to brush against a spot inside you that had your toes curling. 

“Right there, Javy,” you cried, and you felt him press deeper, determined. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he panted, as his hips slammed into you. “God, you feel so good, I’ve got you… I know you feel good too, come for me, please..feels like fucking home in you, please honey, I need to feel you come–”

The throne was shaking with each of his thrusts and he pulled you even closer to him. Your body shook with each rutt of his hips, but as you molded to him, your clit brushed against the hard wall of muscle that was Javy. His cock hit that spot deep inside of you, your clit rubbed against his skin, and it was overwhelming, it was everything, it was enough. 

“Come with me,” you gasped, begged, feeling a blinding heat at the tips of your toes. Javy groaned, and you knew he wanted to protest, but as your body seized, you felt him tense with you.   

You cried out as you came, exhausted and overwriting and flying, but you felt it, felt him. Javy surged up to kiss you, his mouth locking on yours. You were too tired to kiss, too poised to respond, but so was he. And as you tipped over the edge, as you cried against his lips, Javy’s strong hips stilled, and you felt his chest heave as he pumped into you. Then you were warm, so warm, feeling his cum spill inside of you, feeling the world burn around you. It was everything, you and him, locked together and spiraling, shaking. 

You were so full. 

Javy collapsed against you, somehow finding the strength to push himself onto the throne beside you. You fidgeted, squirming until you were once again in his lap, panting and shaking, as Javy held you tight while your orgasms rolled over you. 

You were grateful for the Christmas lights. 

They were a gentle light, soft when you opened your eyes, illuminating Javy’s profile like a poem. Sweat slicked between both of your bodies, and you didn’t want to think about the state the suit was in. You could feel Javy’s heartbeat through his chest, a pounding rhythm, strong and steady as he was. 

You should get up. 

But you snuggled deeper into his chest, relieved by the deep breath you felt him draw. You both basked in the muted light, the warmth of each other's arms, and you decided the feeling was also the answer to Javy’s question– you’d been nice.

.............

Tagging some mutuals, some folks who asked for it, and general lovers of Javy: @daggerspare-standingby @blowmymbackout @teacupsandtopgun @mandylove1000 @callsign-fangirl @cheekymcgrath @goldenseresinretriever @mxgyver @laracrofted @coyotesamachado @wildbornsiren @bradshawsbitch @sebsxphia @roosterforme

[ohtobeleah]

My Future & Past // Javy Machado

Summary: You left Javy at the altar three years ago. In that time he put him back together again and moved on. But what happens when you show up in North Island looking to apologise for your actions.

Warnings: Mentions of ovarian cancer. Left at the altar. Relationship breakdown. Javy Machado x F!reader. Platonic Jake Seresin x F!reader.

Word Count: 2.6k

Author Note: Day Seventeen of Whumptober. Prompt I chose: “You look at little pale”. Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for the prompt list.

Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Jake Seresin had known Javy Machado for the better half of his life. Hell, he knew the man before the pair of them became Hangman and Coyote, that’s how long the pair had known each other. 

So to say when your name and number appeared on Jake's phone like he’d been sucked right back into the past, you just had to know bile rose in the back of his throat and beads of sweat appeared across his forehead. 

“Hey, I know it’s been a while but I really need to talk to you. Is now a good time?” 

Jake looked up from where he was sitting, perched up near the pool table where he could more often than not be found. His heart sank into his chest when his eyes landed on his best friend with his beautiful growing family. His wife of eight months Laura and his three month old daughter Millie. Javy Machado had very much moved on. He’d rebuilt everything you broke when you left him at the altar. And Jake wasn’t sure if he should give you the option to possibly ruin that:

Because deep down Jake Seresin knew if you walked back into Javy Machados life? He’d leave everything behind for you. 

“If you give me ten minutes I’ll call you.” Jake replied. He was going to leave it at that, but broke his golden rule and doubled texted. 

“I’m not gonna stop you from seeing him, but I need you to know that he’s happy now. Jav’s got a wife and kid now.”

Jake pocketed his phone just after he saw the three little bubbles that indicated you were typing back. He hated the way his chest felt so tight. Knowing that you wanted to talk after so long really had Jake's head spinning—he’d once considered you a sister. But then you left his best friend at the altar without any reason or explanation for your actions. 

“I’m gonna head out for the night.” Jake mentioned as he intruded on the new family that were enjoying a little night out. “I’ll see you Monday man.” 

“Yeah, seeya later man, I'll catch up with you.” Javy and Jake both said their goodbyes with parts on the backs and respective handshakes before Jake leaned in to kiss Laura on the cheek. She was as kind as they came. 

“You look really good mama.” Jake cooed as he said his goodbyes to his best friend's wife. “And little Miss Millicent here is just the most precious thing.” She was sleeping in Laura’s arms. Completely milk drunk and dreaming of whatever babies dream about when they’re that old. “Text me when you’re home safe.” 

“Will do Jake, will do.” He was the single cocksure uncle, but Jake was a part of the Machado family. He always had been. He had a place at the dinner table, clothes in the spare room and a half finished decking project in the Machados back yard. He was every bit a part of the family. “Drive safe, text when you get home too.” 

“Always—“ 

Jake made his way out to his truck, the second his door was shut behind him he was pressing on the contact he never had enough courage to delete. Yours. Had it really been three years? 

“I can explain everything.” Jake could tell you were crying. “Jake you have to just listen to me okay.” He hadn’t heard your voice in three entire years. “Please give me a chance to explain—“

“Y/n you left my best friend at the fucking altar what could you possibly say that could explain that?”

Jake sighed as he ran his free hand through his blonde locks. The Hard Deck looked simply beautiful tonight, with festoon lights illuminated the entire scene. “There’s nothing you could say that could make that okay, he loved you, I loved you, and you just—“ That’s when Jake's heart sank, that’s when you interrupted and finally told Jake Seresin what made you leave Javy, the absolute love of your life, at the altar the day you were supposed to marry him, you best friend. 

“Jake, I have ovarian cancer.” You told him in a rush. The silence that fell between the phone call had you wanting to throw up. “I found out the morning of.” You explained, it still felt all too much to handle—but you’d been doing this all on your own ever since you ran out. “My doctor rang, it was urgent and she told me point blank it wasn’t good—I panicked, I couldn’t do that to Javy.” 

“He would have loved you regardless—“ Jake felt awful, he really did. He couldn’t begin to imagine what you had gone through. But he had seen what you leaving had done to Javy and that was enough to have his guard up. That pain alone was enough to keep his wits about himself. Jake liked you, he always had—he saw the good in everything you did for everyone around you. So when you left his best friend heartbroken he knew it was so far out of your character that something had to have been wrong. And turns out there was—you just never told them. You never told anyone, you had simply just disappeared into thin air. 

“Not when my prognosis was six months.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

It felt weird being in North Island, like you were intruding on your ex’s life. You owed him an explanation though, even if it was coming out of nowhere. With the prognosis changing and your life expectancy unexpectedly growing with the treatment and your body's response to therapy, you felt a burning need to apologies to the man who was still and always would be the love of your life. 

“She's just the cutest little thing.” Bob cooed as Laura held her sleeping newborn in the shade of the beach umbrella that had been set up for the two of them for the day. “She's getting so big.” 

“I know–” Laura cooed down at her little girl. “She makes time go a little faster, that's for sure. I wish I could just slow it down, stop her from growing up.” You could see the group from the decking of the Hard Deck. A game of Dogfight football was well underway and of course, Javy was running around without a shirt, looking all kinds of god-like. 

You really missed him, hell he didn't deserve what you did to him. He didn't deserve to believe he wasnt enough for you when in reality he was everything and then some. 

“I thought I told you to wait?” Jake sighed as he came up beside you, a beer in hand as per usual. “Y/n– now isn't the time.” 

“Is that his wife?” You didn't bother acknowledging Jake's statement and simply pressed on with your own as Javy caught the sight of Jake, his best friend, up on the deck with someone he didn't recognise at first. But soon enough he was stopping in his tracks. “She's really pretty.” 

“She's good people.” Jake replied sternly. “And she doesn't deserve the scene that will play out if Javy sees you here, you should probably just go home and ill tell Javy to come over for Beers a little later tonight and the two of you can talk then.” But it was already too late for that, Javy had spotted you and you had spotted him. You sent him a small, nonthreatening wave and soft smile but all he did was remain still–hoping that if he stayed still enough, you wouldn't see him. 

“You alright Coyote?” Rooster asked as he handed him the ball. “You look a little pale?” 

You couldn't be here. It surely had to be the heat playing tricks on him, like you were some sort of mirage that his mind had made up. You weren't here, you couldn't be, you left and he hadn’t heard from you since. It was an impossible idea his mind had surely made up under the influence of the sun's rays. 

“Who's Jake with?” Javy thought if Rooster knew, maybe the idea of you would fade away into the back of his mind. He’d locked any and all memories of you in the back of his mind, forever to be kept in the dark, you had broken his heart and he swore he’d never recover. But he had, he had a beautiful wife and a beautiful little girl to show for it. He was happy. 

“I dunno but she's kinda hot.” Rooster chuckled, not knowing anything about you or who you were. “Dunno man, probably just a badge bunny in town.” Javy Machado had looked death straight in the eye, he had free fallen from heights you wouldn't believe. He had been on suicide missons and come back from the brink of death–but none of that compared to the fear he felt in his heart when he put one foot in front of the other. Taking heavy stride up the beach with his mind racing of the day you left him behind. 

The silence had been so deafening the moment he relised you weren't coming down that aisle. And as he made his way up towards the Hard Deck, the look Jake gave him was something very similar to the look he had given him when he was tasked with telling his best friend you were gone without a trace. He felt the heaviness before he made it to the steps, nothing could compare to this feeling. 

No mission could make Javy Machado as fearful and as angry as he was right now, looking you right in the eyes, the eyes he once thought he’d spend the rest of his life looking into, seeing a future in. 

“Hey Ja–”

“What the fuck?” It was the first thing his brain could conjure up. “What are you doing here?” You could feel your heart beating ridiculously fast inside your chest. Your lungs felt like they were on fire, ignited by a burning desire to leap forward and kiss the man you loved so dearly. 

“I uh–” You had to clear your throat as you looked at Jake who just stepped back, he didn't want to be a part of this any more than he already was. He had given you a place to stay, he’d listened to what you had to say and even he was still on the fence about it all. But he sympathised. He wasn't sure what he would have done if it was him in your shoes. But this wasn't his fight, this wasn't his heartbreak, this was between you and Javy. “I needed to see you, just to talk, I owe you an apology–” 

“You left me on our wedding day!” Javy hissed as he stepped up the three wooden stairs that led up to where you stood. “What could possibly explain that besides the fact you didn't love me enough to want to marry me!” 

Laura could hear her husband from afar. She knew about you. Javy had been very open and honest about who you were to him and what you did. She had helped rebuild the man you broke and the idea you were here, made her blood boil. But she wasn't about to intervene–she trusted her husband more than she trusted herself. 

“Can we go somewhere and talk?” You could feel all eyes on you as you looked past Javy and saw what you could only assume was his entire team and family looking up at the deck. “A little more private?” 

“No.” Javy growled. “NO you came here to talk so lets fucking talk Y/n, you left me! You just walked away like I didn't matter, like we didn’t share a life, like I didn't love you with everything I had and I wanna know the goddamn reason!” 

“It's complicated.” You could feel the tears welling in your eyes but you knew you had to be honest. You had come all this way. “I had some health complications.” 

“Health complications that you couldn’t tell your almost husband about?” Javy scoffed at the thought. “Come on Y/n give it a break, we were together for five years!” You didn't need to be reminded of how much time you spent with Javy. You knew. “I loved you!” 

“I WAS DYING!” You just came out and said it, it was better to rip the band-aid off right? Get it out in the open. “I have Ovarian cancer Javy, I found out the morning of our wedding and I panicked, I freaked the fuck out and ran! I'm not proud of what I did and I never meant to hurt you! But I was told I was dying and I couldn't do that to you!” The world Javy had created in his mind began to crumble around him. He thought maybe you'd gotten cold feet because you didn't love him enough to marry him, he thought perhaps you'd run off with some guy you met, hell he even decided one night after a few too many drinks that you were dead–now he wished he never thought that. 

“And what?” Javy hissed through a frown so prominent it cut straight through your heart. “You thought that I wouldn't? Love you?” He asked condescendingly as rage ran rampant in his heart. 

“I didn't want to be a bourbon!” Your tears fell freely. “I didn't want you to watch me die, it wasn't fair to do that to you.” Jake watched on from a distance as your heart shattered into a million pieces on the decking boards. Javy was fuming, he loved you so much once, hell he’d never truly stopped. “I didn’t want to force you into becoming a caretaker, you deserved better than that and I didn’t want to make you suffer in our marriage.”

“I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t be there for you–” Javy turned his back on you so that you wouldn't see him cry. He didn't want you to know that you could still have him dropping to his knees and mostly importantly, he didn't want you to ever know that he would give up the family he made in a heartbeat if it meant that he could be with you. 

“I didn’t want you to shackle yourself to a dying woman!” It was the god honest truth of the matter, you didn't want Javy to marry you just to end up losing you. That in your mind was worse than the cruel fate you'd been dealt. 

“I LOVED YOU. It was supposed to be for better or worse, in sickness and health, until we died!! I would have been there for you, WITH you, every single day. And I would have loved you until the very end! Hoping and praying that you would get better! But YOU took that choice away from me!” 

“I”M SORRY!!! I was just trying to do the right thing! I was trying to protect you!” 

“Yeah, well look at how that turned out.” Javy had nothing left to give you, he had no fight left inside him. “I'm done here.” He hissed. “You wanted to die alone, then die alone Y/n, I didn't need this, this apology that only benefited you and your narrative.” Jake had to agree, Javy truly didn't need it. “You broke me, and that woman down there and my beautiful daughter and these people, they put me back together after you broke me, and I won't let you near me ever again so that you can do it again.” 

You watched on broken hearted as Javy gathered his family and left. He looked your way just one more time before he truly left the woman he used to love and if he was being completely honest with himself, still does, crying on the deck. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

[Author Note] I concepted this idea with @callsignspark & we both agree the wife ends up at Jakes doorstep to confront the reader and tells you to leave. Only for Javy to show up three hours later after you’ve gone willing to throw his whole marriage away to love you again.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Whumptober Tags 🏷️ @xoxabs88xox @oldermenaremyreligion @slut-f0r-u u @emma-is-cool @armydrcamers @topguncortez @topgun-imagines @kmc1989 @els-marvelvsp @blindedbythelightt

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Hollywood’s Angel 🎬 | Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado Imagine

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado x actress!reader (romantic)

Content warnings: slight profanity, fluff | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 5k

Requested 📨 Yes/no (for @stephthestallion 🤍)

Premise: Lights. Camera. Action!! Whether it be on the big screen in movie theaters across the globe or at home streaming the latest hit show, the name Y/n L/n would forever be known one of the world’s greatest entertainers. From humble beginnings the odds didn’t appear in her favor at first, but sometimes taking a risk could lead to endless opportunities. And maybe even love along the way…..

Note: This was so fun to write and I’m so sorry it took so long. I’ve been so busy lately with work and trying to get stuff settled. I hope I did this work justice for you 🥹 Also Y/Z/S stands for your zodiac sign.

—————————

“Hello, my name is Y/n L/n,” A beaming smile was sent to the camera once the producer gave a thumbs up. “And I’m here to do the Wired autocomplete interview.” She clapped her hands, “Let’s do this.” Handed a card stock with a printed google web search filled with blanks save for the, ‘Who Y/n L/n….’, her eyebrows rose with curiosity.

“You know I’ve watched dozens of these interviews in my free time. My favorite being the one with Ryan Renolds and Jake Gyllenhaal.”

“Have you ever searched yourself?” The producer asked off screen. Y/n’s response was a cheeky smirk.

“A long time ago when I was teenager and social media was first becoming a thing—you know when we had MySpace, but since then I have not. While I love the internet sometimes it can be a little,” she makes a face, “too much you know.” Focusing back on the card stock, Y/n takes a deep breath as the nerves start to arise. “I’m starting to feel a little worried but what I’m gonna discover is searched about me on Google.”

Her fingers grip the first piece of paper, reading off the statement as it peels away, “Who is Y/n L/n?” An instant chuckle leaves her lip, turning to the camera. “Y/n L/n is um…,” she shrugs, not sure how to really answer the question, “a 28-year-old woman who started out as a child actress in the mid 2000s. She’s a Y/Z/S, a newly-wedded wife, producer, and sometimes sings and dances or models in her free time.”

In truth, Y/n L/n was so much beyond that. Her name and legacy was embedded into history at such a young age the whole world knew who she was by the time she was 14.

Born to a middle class family in 1995 in New York City, Y/n’s parents were hardworking people who raised her and her siblings to appreciate the beauty in life. Though there were times of struggle, living paycheck to paycheck and having to sacrifice the lights in order to have food on the table, there was always love, support, and care in their family. Y/n witnessed her parents do everything they could to provide for them, her mom working double shifts at the hospital and dad on the road thirty weeks out of the year as a truck driver, and made the vow to repay them. Whether it be working her ass off in school in order to graduate from a prestigious university with a degree that would get her a stable career, or succeed in her dreams of breaking through in the entertainment industry.

Acting, singing, dancing. One could consider it the love of her life. Being on stage to a crowd made Y/n feel on top of the world. Playing dress up and house with her friends and family, pretending to be someone else was so much fun to the little girl. Y/n loved the little school plays she would do in preschool and kindergarten.

“One day,” she said to her childhood best friend while they swung on the swing set, “I’m gonna be on Tv like Disney Channel,” a squeal left her when she leaned back a little too far. “In front of cameras where I get to be someone else.”

Little kids always tend to dream big. Their desires and goals often shift. One day they wanna be a popstar. The next a veterinarian or an astronaut. But Y/n always knew what she wanted in life. To be in Hollywood with her face on the big screen for the world to see. To give back to her parents and support her family so they could accomplish their own dreams and aspirations.

She was destined for greatness. Now fast forward to the present, and Y/n is celebrating 20 years of being in Hollywood.

“Who was Y/n L/n’s first TV role?” The next question read, mentally traveling the actress back to the year 2003 when she was eight years old. She had been in Los Angeles to visit her grandparents and practically begged her grandma to take her to open auditions. Whether it was for a commercial or as an extra in a show, Y/n simply wanted to at least try despite being so young. She’d maybe auditioned for six roles in various media before getting a call back.

“My first role,” she begins with a grin at the memory, “was Rosie Whittman on Law & Order: SVU. Season five, episode 25 which was the season finale and the most viewed episode of the season,” Y/n remembered how intimidating the whole experience was, but loved every minute of it. “I was eight-years-old. No agent, no experience in Hollywood and was only in town to visit my grandparents for the summer. My grandmother took me to auditions that were open—because I didn’t have an agent and was a nobody,” she couldn’t help but laugh. “My parents obviously let me watch SVU as a child, but I wanted to audition for every open casting I saw so it took a lot of convincing on my part for my parents to allow my grandma to take me.” Boy it sure was a lot. Y/n was fighting for her life on the phone while her mother voiced disapproval.

“I was a pretty confident child,” a smirk takes her features, “I went in and did my thing—impressing the casting director, the producers, and Mariska Hargitay who happened to be there to do a chemistry read— since the character I was auditioning for was being questioned by Olivia Benson for what she witnessed.” Y/n pauses for a brief moment. “And yeah, Mariska was very impressed with me, going as far as to set me up with my first agent. I really owe my entire career to her and I love any chance we get to work together. She took a chance on me when I was just a child with big dreams with little connections and,” Y/n lifts her hands, “look where it got me. Here with Wired to see what people have been searching for about me over the years.”

After a few more questions about her personal life before she was an Emmy winning actress, Y/n moved to the next card. “What was Y/n L/n’s breakthrough role?”

Y/n made a face to the camera, “This is an interesting question. And I say this because depending on who you ask, the answer might be different.” She tilted her head back and forth, “Most would say Wren Stone—after all I played that role for nearly a decade. I got quite a bit of recognition in the 2000s as Magik in the X-Men films and of course as Padaline in the Hunger Games franchise—you could say people who grew up with those films know me best by that. But,” she licks her lip, “I would consider my run as Jodie Pip to be my breakthrough role.”

Jodie Pip, the longest running companion to the Tenth Doctor in the BBC hit series Doctor Who threw Y/n into worldwide recognition. After appearing in episodes of television hits like Criminal Minds, Grey’s Anatomy, Gossip Girl, and Dexter, Y/n took a risk by traveling to England in hopes of securing a main role in a show rather than a supporting one. She was itching to play a character for longer than one episode. And sadly, Hollywood just wasn’t doing it for her.

Therefore going across the Atlantic seemed to be the solution. A decision which would change her life for the better.

“Picture this: you’re twelve-years-old in a country you’ve only been to maybe once and this time around you’re looking to permanently move there. Your family is back in America waiting for the call from your Agent, who’s your legal guardian at this point, to tell them you’ve got a contract and will be there for God knows how long.” Y/n lets out a sign, reliving the nerve racking first few months in England with only her agent and Godmother with her. “It was a stressful time. I was losing hope while waiting patiently for a sign. Getting the call that I got the part—I was going to be the companion to one of the most iconic television characters of all time…” she shrugs as if it was obvious, “Getting to work with David Tennant, Freema Agyemen, Catherine Tate, and Alex Kingston….It was the best day of my life.” Placing her hand on the next slip, she adds, “I cried for a good couple hours—pure happiness.”

“Is Y/n L/n British?” A full blown laugh escapes, hand flying up to muffle the sound. “Oh my Gosh this is too funny. The amount of people I meet every year—whether it be costars, colleagues, or fans at cons—who are so surprised to discover I’m not British,” she raises a hand in defense, “It doesn’t happen quite as often as it did ten-fifteen years ago. And I understand why people assumed I was because for so long I played characters who were.” Making herself comfortable in the chair, Y/n explains her career further in depth.

“First was Jodie, who I played for three years from 2007 to 2010 and then again in 2013 for the Doctor Who 50th anniversary special. Playing her put me on the map in the UK. I was on Skins for several episodes, one season of Merlin. I had supporting roles in the Golden Compass and Nowhere Boy. And because I had worked with Steven Moffat and Chris Chibnall on Doctor Who, I booked Eurydice on Sherlock and Shania on Broadchurch years later—getting to work with the lovely, talented, and amazing David Tennant for a second time.” Y/n’s face turns semi serious, “I love that man. He’s like my work dad for real—he was at my wedding,” she counts off on her finger, “I was at his. I’m Godmother to his daughters..he’s my ride or die.”

Getting back to the original point, Y/n snaps her fingers twice, “But back on track. Jodie, Eurydice, Shania..then of course playing Wren Stone on Game of Thrones for eight years had everyone on the planet believing I was British.” Wren Stone was the bastard of Jon Arryn in HBO’s critically acclaimed series Game of Thrones based on the books by George R. R. Martin. A ward of the Arryn family due to her status, Wren was introduced in the first season and went on to become a close ally to the Starks as well as a one of the longest running characters on the show when she appeared in all eight seasons. A fan favorite, her surviving the last season was one of the only good things to come out of it.

Cause…well we don’t talk about season 8.

“The last BBC show I did, what had me move back to the U.S permanently, was Killing Eve since it was with BBC America. By the time I booked Hunger Games and Ellie,” she corrects herself, “Negasonic Teenage Warhead in Deadpool, people were like, ‘you do a great American accent.’ And I just smile and nod, going, ‘yeah, I’m from New York.’ Their reaction,” she laughs, “every time was priceless.” Going to remove the next strip, Y/n pauses and looks back at the camera, ending with a wink, “Considering I’m joining Bridgerton this upcoming season as Sophie Beckett, I feel I will be having this question come up again a lot.”

‘What are some movies Y/n L/n has been in?’

“Well,” the actress rubs her chin with a knuckle, deep in thought. “I’ve been in a few—give or take,” she winks again. “My first movie role was X-2 in 2003, playing Magik although the role was minor compared to what it was in The Last Stand and Days of Future Past. In Spider-Man 2 I was in the train scene for a brief moment,” she pauses to laugh, “now that I think about it I have been in several projects related to Marvel. X-Men, Spider-Man and Deadpool. Not to mention I'll be taking on the role of Felicia Hardy in the MCU—that I’m really excited for. Umm what else,” she clicks her tongue to think.

“I had a small part in Constantine with Keanu Reeves, who along with David Tennant is someone I’ve worked with several times and love him to death,” she points a finger up, “The Golden Compass and Nowhere Boy as I mentioned earlier. In the 2010s I was in several features like Snow White and the Huntsman, The Help, New Year’s Day, Furious 7. I was in Catching Fire and parts 1 and 2 of Mockingjay—again I would say is one of my most recognizable roles. John Wick Chapters 2 & 3. In 2017 I was in The Greatest Showman. Oh!” She exclaimed with a grin, “Can’t forget I was in three Bond films: Skyfall, Spectre and the most recent No Time To Die. Another example of why the whole world believes I’m from England. Honestly England is my second home and where my career initially took off. I miss it there terribly, but coming back to the States has been a blessing—being close to my family and getting to do projects in Hollywood which was my dream since I was a little girl.”

Biting her lip the actress finishes up with, “my most recent movie roles have been Annihilation in 2018, Knives Out, Dune, The King’s Man, Uncharted, and Mortal Kombat—both of which are based on popular video games.” If she were being honest, playing Mileena in Mortal Kombat was one of her favorite movie roles to date—especially after having to fight with the studio to give the character justice when they were the ones calling her for the role. As a fan of the game and character, Y/n wasn’t going to settle for a small cameo. Ed Boon loved her interpretation of the character so much he asked her to voice Mileena in the next installments of the game.

Not to mention in the last several years any project with Y/n attached to it already had support and a loyal fan base to promote the show/film. After winning five Emmy’s—for her roles in Doctor Who, Game of Thrones, Sherlock, and Euphoria—Y/n was a household name.

So yeah, she wasn’t gonna be cheated out.

“Last year I was in Elvis plus back to back features with A24. X and Pearl were a lot of fun—and we’re currently filming the final installment to the trilogy, maXXXine.” Moving on she revealed the next statement, “Who was Y/n L/n in Euphoria?”

“In Euphoria,” she clears her throat, trying not to physically cringe at the thought of its creator, “I played Rue’s cousin Reece, who like every character on the show was dealing with difficult issues. I did a lot of research into my role so I could remain authentic and true to the character and the real life struggles people like her face.” Y/n softly smiled, “I won the Supporting Emmy next to Zenday’s leading—and it was a wonderful feeling to be recognized for a fifth time by the Academy while next to one of my best friends. Zendaya and I met when we were teenagers and have been so close. Working together on Euphoria was a wonderful experience and I’m so blessed to have received the honor alongside her.”

‘What episode of Black Mirror is Y/n L/n in?’

“Nosedive,” she turned to the camera, “it was in season three with Bryce Dallas Howard and Michaela Coel—both whom I adore. Aaaaand the episode was terrifying.” She simply said with a blank expression. “Watching it back gave me actual chills because one day technology will be so advanced that what took place in the episode could become our reality. And when I read the script my immediate reaction was like, ‘this is gonna be intense,’ and sure enough it was.”

‘Does Y/n L/n sing?’

A childlike grin appeared once again, “I do sing! Anytime I get a chance to sing I immediately say yes. It’s something I love. All the time on set I’ll be humming a tune or belting out lyrics to whatever music is playing. I got to sing a lot in The Greatest Showman so I was very happy about that. It’s my actual voice in the karaoke scene in season 2 of Euphoria. The one at Maddy’s birthday party—I had to beg them to let me do it live and not pre recorded. So when you see Lexi, Maddy and Kate filming me it’s actually Maude, Alexa, and Barbie using their personal phones, not the ones their characters use.” Offering a smirk she finishes with, “A little BTS you may have not known.”

‘Who does Y/n L/n model for?’

“Hmmmm” the actress puckers her lips. “As someone who was a fashionista growing up, I am filled with gratitude at being able to answer this.” Where could she really start with this? Having been labeled a fashion icon in 2020 Y/n had a long resume of working with brands and designers. “To start, I am an ambassador for Prada as well as its subsidiarie Miu Miu. We’ve partnered together for years and I’ve gone to the Met Gala with them a few times—most recent being in 2022. I’ve done campaigns for Calvin Klein and Stella McCartney. I recently did a collaboration with Dior. This year I went to the Met with Chanel—wearing vintage Chanel and ended up doing a campaign with them. Donatella Vesache and I have worked together.” Y/n scrunches her nose, “Every year I look forward to fashion week as you can imagine.”

‘Does Y/n L/n have a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame?’

“If you asked me this the other day I would’ve said no,” she replies cheekily, “But….if you’ve seen the news recently then you would know that I’ve been selected to receive one this year and I….can’t even put into words the feeling. I better stop before I get emotional,” she felt her eyes well up slightly. “I’m extremely honored and blessed to receive such recognition. All I dreamed about as a kid was to have my name on one of those stars and now it’s coming true. I’m overjoyed.”

‘What did Y/n L/n win the Tony for?’

“I won the Tony back in 2018 for my role in Wicked.”

“Will Y/n L/n be in DW 60th special?” Throwing a look to the camera, smirk threatening to appear on her lips she goes, “I don’t know…you’ll have to watch and find out.”

“Is Y/n L/n in Stranger Things?”

“I am not, but I would love to be,” she shrugs with a smile. “I love that show and everyone is so talented. I can’t wait for season five—it needs to hurry up before I lose my mind.”

‘Who is Y/n L/n in Star Wars?”

“So I voiced the absolute badass and Jedi master Ahsoka Tano during Clone Wars from 2008 to 2014, returning for the Rebels series form 2014 to 2018,” she pauses to cross her legs to make herself more comfortable. This was one of her favorite characters to play and despite the criticism and dislike for Ashoka in the beginning, she grew to become a fan favorite in the Star Wars fandom. “I was thirteen when I first voiced Ashoka and I got the privilege to bring her to life again by playing her in live-action for the Mandalorian and Book of Boba Fett—not to mention getting to have a voice cameo in The Rise of Skywalker.” Y/n gets ready to move on, “Now you’re about to see Ashoka again for her spin off show coming this summer on Disney plus.”

‘What all has Y/n L/n and David Tennant worked on?’ The question made her chuckle, surprised it was a top search on Google.

“David Tennant—the man, the myth, the legend. I’ve been lucky to work with him on several projects over the years,” the memories appear in her mind as she recalls them. “We first met in 2006 after I got the role of Jodie Pip opposite his Tenth Doctor. That lasted almost three years but during that time we both did Clone Wars—he voiced Huyang and he actually will be retuning as Huyang for the Ashoka series.” The moment she got the news the woman had FaceTimed him screaming. Although he was only voicing the droid they still made plans to reunite since they hadn’t seen each other since before Covid when Y/n moved back to the states.

“Broadchurch happened a few years after we both left Doctor Who—around the same time as the anniversary special—and then I got to work with him again when I appeared in an episode of Good Omens as one of the demons passing judgement on Crowley. Finally I wanna say before the Ashoka series the last thing we did was Staged back when quarantine was a thing.” Y/n’s face turns serious, “Anytime I get to work with David I take it. Like I said, he’s my ride or die,” she crosses her fingers, “we like this. And I love when people send me those YouTube videos where it’s like, ‘Jodie Pip and The Doctor sharing a brain cell for 10 minutes straight,’ or ‘David Tennant and Y/n L/n being a father-daughter duo on and off screen.’ Really brightens up my day.”

A few more questions went on, Y/n answering as best as she could with details. Doing this interview really gave viewers a more personal outlook on the actress. She was known for being reserved and private in her career expanding two decades. As a child star, her agent really shielded her from a lot due to the cruel nature of Hollywood and the media. And as a result of criticisms Y/n only was active on social media when it came time to promote projects and events.

She had a large and loyal fan base. Probably one of the largest for a celebrity due to her being in so many popular shows and high-grossing movies. On TikTok she & her characters were the most edited when it came to fancams. Pinterest had its own board dedicated to all the outfits Y/n wore.

She was Hollywoods Angel. Fans loved her, celebrities adored her. Before joining the cast of Bridgerton she met them at the Bafta’s the year prior and had them all starstruck when she approached. Nicola Couglan, who plays Penelope Featherington, even mentioned in an interview how the cast pretty much lost their minds when they found out she would be coming onto the show.

“No one knew about the end credit scene at the end of series three,” she told Graham Norton, seated alongside her costar/leading man, Luke Newton aka Colin Bridgerton on the show. “It was a big secret between Shonda and the crew. After we wrapped up, they went ahead and secretly filmed the scene with Sophie getting ready for the masquerade ball,” Nicola raises her hands, grinning from ear to ear, “and when I tell you we all were freaking out.” The audience laughed, Graham leaning foward in his seat with an awe-struck expression.

“So how did you find out? Was it when you watched the finale?”

Luke was the one to answer. “When I watched the episode,” he points to Nicola, “and I think you said you did this too—same with some of the others, I exited Netflix once the credits started to roll. Not thining much of it,” he shrugs, “then later that night Claudia Jessie who plays Eloise FaceTimes the iMessage group chat we have—.”

Nicole gently cuts in, “I’m surprised so many picked up.” That ignites a laugh from everyone.

“Yeah,” Luke agrees as he sits up. “Luke Thompson, Johnny Bailey, Simone, Nicola, Bessie, and I all answer—one after the other—and Claudia is shouting, ‘Did you see the end credit scene!?!’ Of course I’m confused because I’m like, ‘what is this, the MCU?’” Nicola bursts into laughter along with Graham. “Everyone’s asking what the hell she’s talking about because we’ve all seen the finale and were texting about it—but nobody mentioned an end credit scene. It completely went over our head. So…as you can imagine we all turn our tv, still on FaceTime mind you, and low and behold not only is there end credit scene….but Y/n L/n is gonna be Sophie Beckett.” Just the name alone ignites eruption from the crowd.

“Wow,” Graham exhales, “And you guys met her at the Bafta’s last year, yes? I remember seeing a picture of you two and other cast mates from Bridgerton with her.” Nicola nods excitedly.

“We did. It was such a surreal moment. She was with her then fiancee and the Euphoria cast—it kinda looked like a school mixed with Euphoria cast on one side and us on the other. But she came over and we were all buzzing in the corner, ‘Y/n L/n is coming over here. Oh my God-oh my God.’ Most of us have been watching her since she was on Doctor Who so this was like meeting your childhood idol,” Nicola used her hands to emphasize the point, “And she expressed how she was a fan of the books and loved the show. She even made a joke like, ‘Tell Shonda to call my line.’”

“And did you?” Graham asks for the audience and viewers at home, on the edge of his seat. “Cause didn’t they work together before on Grey’s Anatomy and Scandal?”

Luke nods, “we brought it up during press for series 2. I forgot Y/n was on those shows actually so when I told Shonda I thought ‘there’s no way they’re gonna get her’.” He glances at Nicola, excitment on his features, “I think everyone is ready to get back to set and start filming series four. I know I’m already missing everyone and I’m excited to pass the torch to Luke and Y/n.”

Coming down to the final cardstock, Y/n was sad to end the interview. It was fun seeing what people searched on the web and giving a more in-depth look at her life.

Peeling back the paper on the final card, the statement read, “Who is Y/n L/n’s husband?” Cue the butterflies in her stomach, picturing the man’s gorgeous face. ��My husband is Lieutenant Commander Javy Machado. Although he is known to his colleagues as ‘Coyote’.” Lowering the cardstock she went on to say, “Javy and I met four years ago in 2019, he’s a fighter pilot for the Navy and was stationed in San Diego for an assignment. It happened to coincide at the time I was filming a small part in ‘Friend of the World’.” A small independent film her friend was producing and asked if she would take a small role to help promote the project. It’d been the first film Y/n had taken on after moving back to the States following her nearly 12 year residence in the United Kingdom.

If she thought hard enough, Y/n could feel the warmth of the sun on her arms and smell of the ocean salt water as her eyes landed on a group of people playing football with two balls. Instantly drawn to the man sticking his tongue out at his friends when running backwards to the end line. “My costars and I had wrapped up for the day and decided to go to the beach. We were waiting for this bar to open at five so we strolled for a good bit to pass time. That’s where I saw him playing football with his colleagues,” a shy smile stayed on her lips the entire time Y/n relayed the story.

“And then when the bar opened that night we formally met.” Man what a night it was. Every social media platform was buzzing with pictures and videos of Y/n behind the bar of The Hard Deck surrounded by patrons. The bartender, Penny, was so cool and didn’t mind the actors coming in despite the madhouse they caused. She did, however, have to close the doors once it got too packed due to locals sending word the five-time Emmy award winning actress was there. Before she knew it, Y/n was making drinks with her while taking pictures and signing autographs to everyone who approached. Y/n even rang the bell a couple times and bought the first round for those in attendance.

And when Javy appeared in front of her, it was like time had stopped. The noise eloping them was muffled, movement slowed to where the only clear focus was on each other.

“Hi,” he beamed, looking at her like she was the only person on the planet. “I know you’ve heard this all night, but is it alright if I get a photo with you?”

“Of course,” Y/n found her voice after a second, smiling wide as she inched closer to the bar counter. Javy thanked her, moving so his back was to the surface since the bar stood in between them and positioned his phone so it captured both of them. They posed, Javy snapping a couple pictures with Y/n making a kissy face at one point. When it ended Y/n motioned to the draft beers beside her, “Can I get you anything? Round is on me.”

Well Javy couldn’t say no could he? Pocketing his phone he replied, “Whatever you recommend, I’ll take.” Had he been to the hard deck several times in the past two weeks? Yes. Did he know what all was on draft and bottled? Sure did. But he wasn’t gonna pass on the chance to flirt with one of the greatest actors Hollywood had ever produced.

It was Y/n L/n for Christ’s sake. Hollywood’s Angel as they called her.

But what the pilot didn’t expect was to have found the love of his life. The same went for Y/n. Sure they had a moment movies often depicted as ‘love at first sight’ but c’mon, that was only in the movies…right?

Well perhaps it wasn’t just in the movies.

“Okay I see you!” Javy hollered from the side, standing on the red carpet a few paces away from where Y/n was posing for the cameras. Dressed to the nines in a black tux, Javy hyped up his fiancée like he always did at premieres and carpet events. This one happened to be at the 2022 Cannes Film Festival for the premiere of Elvis. “Give me face—yes ma’am! Work it-work it! Mmmh.”

Giggling the whole time, Y/n reaches out with her hand for him. He skips over, stopping to snap a picture on his phone. Pressing a kiss to her cheek, the two embrace for the photographers—who eat up every second they get with the couple. Ever since they announced their relationship in 2020 they were the it couple of Hollywood despite Javy not being in the industry. But his energy, personality, and of course his adoration for Y/n, made him well liked by her fans.

He worshiped the ground she walked on. Never did he give any indication he was with her for malice. Social media accounts he had were private and mostly to keep in touch with people he worked with. Her family loved him and his loved her. Whenever reporters approached him to try and ask invasive questions Javy would redirect to whatever project was staring in. “Isn’t the show amazing? I would say this is her best work yet—and the cast was amazing throughout.” He was definitely a keeper.

With similar personalities, though Y/n was more reserved in the public eye, the two were like a lock and key. Fitting together with a love so natural they couldn’t believe they got to experience it. They enjoyed going to concerts and the movies—getting into disguise whenever they didn't want the paparazzi following them. Sang and danced in the kitchen while they cooked, having their own karaoke parties with friends.

At one point in their relationship Y/n was to play a fighter pilot. So, what better way to prepare for the role than to shadow her partner and his colleagues. Once they got the green light from the Navy, Y/n had to do all the necessary training a pilot did to get into a jet. From there she was allowed to get in the backseat with either Javy or Natasha flying.

Flying with Natasha went smoothly….but her boyfriend was a different story. Of course she trusted him with her life and knew he would never put her in harm's way, but damn did he unlock his inner Maverick when she got in the plane with him.

“Javy Machado!!” She screamed, holding onto her seat for dear life when he flipped them upside down. “I swear I will kick your ass in the afterlife if you kill us!”

“Relax, baby,” he laughed, earning a groan from his girl. “I promise we’ll have a graceful landing.”

“It won’t be graceful when I’m puking my guts out!” She actually did vomit in the bag he provided her with before they took off. Instead of embarrassment she was just annoyed with him, but still enjoyed the ride no less. “I’m sticking with Natasha from now on.”

When it came to the squad, they were Y/n’s biggest supporters. After the initial shock and fangirl/fanboying—nearly shitting their pants at the fact their best friend was dating an absolute Icon—Y/n became part of their family. They pre-orders tickets to her movies, attending midnight premieres and after parties the actress invited them too. Sunday nights were reserved for watching her HBO shows, while Netflix series that were to binge watch were planned accordingly.

Nat loved having another gal in the group. It was a breath of fresh air and the two would go to lunch or have their own movie nights. “I’m surprised Machado hasn’t crashed in yet,” the pilot commented with a mouthful of popcorn as they sat in Y/n’s living room. Javy was in his office playing COD with the guys after pouting when Y/n said no to him joining in on their girl time.

“He’s occupied with his game. I’m surprised we haven’t heard any screaming at the tv yet.”

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT, JAKE??”

“Spoke to soon.”

The couple were stars at award shows. It was no surprise they were always the best dressed. People constantly tweeted their excitement to see them attend, and expressed disappointment when they would not. And often the two’s reactions to cringe/unexpected moments resulted in them becoming popular memes—something Y/n already had a reputation of long before they got together.

2022 Oscars? Y/n’s Twitter froze due to the amount of tags from the snapshot of her and Javy’s expressions to Will Smith slapping the shit out of Chris Rock. “Did he just—?” “he did.” “Holy shit. Where’s the popcorn—I feel I need some right now.”

2023 Met Gala? People kept replaying the moment the couple did a double take at seeing Doja Cat dressed up as Karl Lagerfields cat. “What the actual…” “now that’s what camp should’ve been.”

And of course they couldn’t forget the most recent one of their unimpressed look from Jimmy Kimmel’s monologue at the most recent Oscars. “Should I go up there and pull a—.” “Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Machado.”

Expect YouTube to be filled with videos complications titled, “Y/n L/n & Javy Machado being flabbergasted at award shows for 15 minutes straight,” and, “Y/n L/n & her husband Javy being Hollywoods favorite couple.”

Then there was Javy’s to die for reaction to Y/n recieving her star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame at only 29 years old. The only other day besides their wedding day where the man was in a heap of tears. “I’m just—,” he sniffed, “so proud of you, baby. You’ve earned this.”

When it came to live reactions at events years after getting married and Y/n embedding her legacy as the greatest actress of her generation, let’s just say Hollywood’s Angel and the Navy’s Coyote would always be its champions.

………….

TGM Tag List: @avaleineandafryingpan @caitsymichelle13 @poppyalice2001 @cutelittlepotatofry @luckyladycreator2 @americaarse @elenavampire21 @back-tooo-black @wildellaa @artemissunn @pinkpantheris

[nolita-fairytale]

Top Gun: Maverick????? So if I say…Javy “Coyote” Machado…dom…and I’ll let you pick the rest. Go wild even

"Yes Sir" -- Dom!Javy "Coyote" Machado Headcanons:

a/n: slowly making my way through the rest of my requests, cuties!! this headcanon is nsfw and is 18+ so minors, do the thing and keep scrolling, bbs. second, @creativitybeware i decided to do this as a headcanon set after the events of top gun.

dom!coyote thots:

as a fellow aviator, you meet javy in corpus christi, swearing to yourself that you will NOT be falling for his southern charm and perfect smile.

the fact that he is best friends with hangman is red flag number one... so you swear to yourself that you won't become another plaything of the dynamic fuckboi duo that is the javy and jake show.

but boy are you wrong about javy, something you learn when you get called back to top gun for a top secret mission, a pilot program you discover is in its third iteration.

this third dagger mission is when you learn that javy machado, when jake seresin isn't glued to his side, is a perfect southern gentleman. he says please and thank you, his hero is his mom, and he always show respect with a 'yes ma'am' and 'yes sir' that comes from growing up a machado AND being a military man.

after playing wingman all night long, you're not shocked when hangman leaves the bar with phoenix, the sexual tension thick between the two of them. it gives javy the opportunity to swoop in and talk to you. maybe it's the tequila sodas, and it's definitely the cocky grin on his face when he asks you if you wanna get out of here that convince you to take him back to the barracks, but tonight, you find out the javy is also a perfect gentleman in the bedroom too.

while the teasing is all just a fun game of cat and mouse, javy's number one priority is your pleasure.

as someone who has to make quick decisions and think on your feet, the bedroom is the last place that you want to be in control and you have no reservation in asking for exactly what you want.

"so good for me. you wanna be my good girl?" he grunts, as he thrusts in and out of you.

"no. don't wanna be good. and i don't want you to be gentle, coyote," you manage to get out?

"you wanna be a brat, baby? you could've just said so. should've known you liked it rough."

night after night, for the rest of leave, javy has under him, on top of him, in front of him, straddling his face as you cry out his name. dom!javy absolutely loves to tie you up and edge you till you're begging for him to let you come.

hear me out, but dom!javy also loves to spank you, especially when he's hittin' it from behind. especially when you're being a brat. especially when it's followed up with him pulling your hair, wrapping a hand around your throat to give enough pressure that it feels near euphoric.

also hi i know it's cliche and i'm not sorry. rank. kink. "lieutenant." hell, you even call him lieutenant commander just to rile him up, even though that promotion his a ways off.

"fuck, baby. i love it when you call me that. say it again." "please lieutenant commander." and if you're feeling really sweet, "captain."

yeah, javy likes to roleplay too.

but aside from the rough sex and javy absolutely being an absolute dog in the sheets... his aftercare game is top notch, always ready to clean you up, or a draw up a bath.

"javy, baby, will you please run a bath for us?" "yes, ma'am."

[missathlete31]

The Way You Shake And Shiver

Summary:

Hangman gets the first air to air combat kill in three decades

He doesn't handle it well

Warning for suicidal thoughts, PTSD and a whole lot of angst

Jake Seresin is the toast of his squadron. He’s the toast of the whole damn carrier. Everywhere he goes people are slapping him on the back with congratulations and a promise of drinks as soon as they get back to shore.

He knows that soon he will be the toast of the whole Navy, once word spreads. All he ever wanted in life was to be the best, to be admired for his skill and his tenacity, to show his parents that he wasn't the kid to treat so poorly for all those years. He wanted to be the man people could be proud of, if only anyone cared enough about him to be.

He's the toast of the Navy now, yet he doesn’t feel proud. Instead he feels dead inside like the man whose life he ended.

The first air to air kill in three decades, the only active duty pilot with a confirmed kill, all these new prestigious titles to his name and Jake can't stop the nauseous feeling in his stomach every time someone brings it up.

His hands haven’t stopped shaking since it happened.

Jake has been accused of being reckless in the air many times but in reality he actually over-thinks. His entire flight is spent thinking of movements and reactions. He watches everyone and everything in the sky with him and he has an uncanny ability to interpret other pilots’ flying patterns and using it to supposition their next move.

It was how he knew exactly where the bogey was going to be.

It was also how he knew that his wingman was never going to get out of the way in time.

Jake takes the shot quickly the second he hears his wingman, call-sign Yankee, shout that the bogey has tone on him and the enemy’s first missile just misses. Hangman hits his trigger with no hesitation, before even his own brain can fully comprehend what he has just done. The next second there is a fiery wreck of an enemy jet sinking to the ground and his radio is bursting with chatter.

Jake still doesn’t know how he makes it back to the carrier without throwing up or crying.

Instead the blonde departs his plane to cheers and celebration. Dozens of bodies crowding him as they commemorate someone else dying. He is being embraced by men who have threatened to punch him in the face multiple times before when he was deemed too cocky. He is being showcased by the same squadron that has used his call-sign as a sneer against his character. His squadron leader takes his arm and throws it up in victory, when not twelve hours before that same hand had pushed him aside calling him a jackass and a wasted space.

How quickly things have changed.

Yankee comes forward, shouting something about Jake using him as bait but nobody is listening; they are too excited for something to applaud about. Jake knows that the other man is not going to let this go lightly. Yankee is a popular guy on the ship and a natural story-teller. That New York swagger is going to try to turn Jake’s achievement around and yet Hangman can’t help but be a little thankful, he doesn’t want recognition for something like this.

But for now Yankee is pushed to the sideline, Jake is front and center, and Captains and Admirals are lining up to shake the young blonde pilot’s hand.

When Admiral Fitzgerald, the highest ranking man on the ship comes forward, Jake can’t help the gulp of nerves he swallows down. “Congratulations son” the older man says as though he ended a war instead of ended a life. The Admiral moves in for his own handshake and Jake only manages a tiny nod as he feels the man’s eyes accessing him. “You made us proud today” and dear God he sounds it, Jake thinks as traitorous tears sprout. “Thank you Sir” he gets out before the Admiral leaves and Jake can escape the claustrophobia of the deck.

He’s thrown into debriefs where he watches his hands shake violently and his CO laughs about the adrenaline of the fight.

He gets checked out in medical where he watches his hands shake violently and the medics tells him that rest is his best medicine.

He heads back to his bunk where he watches his hands shake violently and he tries to sleep this day away, the day he became a murderer.

He watches his hands shake violently and he hopes in the morning everything will be better.

If only it was that simple.

Sleep doesn’t come to those that are wicked, and Jake is left wide awake with nightmares plaguing.

And still his hands shake.

The ship is days away from port and Jake doesn’t know if he will make it. He doesn’t know how he can make it. He can’t sleep without seeing the enemy’s jet go down, can’t walk the halls of the ship without one of his crewmates bringing it up to him. Yankee has embraced that Hangman is not going to be the villain in this story and now forces the blonde to answer detailed questions about the whole situation as if he knows how much his teammate is struggling. He asks what Jake was thinking as his missile launched, asks if he thinks about the rebel forces cursing his name as they bury their own, wonders aloud to him about the family wishing him dead. Yankee makes sure to bring up in front of everyone that Jake's hands always seem to be shaking, his face green most morning, and laughs with some of others about war not being for pussies.

Jake channels his entire Hangman persona and gives a quip about celebrating too hard. He laughs about the enemy's loss and says at least people are talking about him. He tells Yankee that jealousy looks good on the dark haired pilot before he retreats into his room and throws up another meal as he hates himself a little more for daring to make light of his actions.

Because Yankee is right, somewhere in the world a family has been informed their loved one is dead because of Jake. A family is broken in the worst possible way because of him. A squadron is missing a piece, a plane has never landed, a pilot has never come home, all because of Jake. Having such an impact on the world, causing this event that ripples out all around him, causes an existential crisis of mammoth proportion that seems to swallow Jake whole.

Jake’s father always told him that he would amount to nothing. He would leave no legacy, no mark on this Earth. Jake wishes his father had been right.

He doesn’t understand how the world continues, how the rest of the crew on the boat still talk and joke and go about their days. Jake feels like he is sinking in the middle of the ocean, working as hard as he can to make it to the surface only to see nothing but open water all around him. He’s lost out to sea, with only drowning to look forward to. He musters up enough strength to not draw attention to his daily struggles from the others though no one is really looking at him anyway. No one cares about Jake Seresin the person, all they care about is Hangman’s confirmed kill.

All except one person.

Jake met Natasha Trace back in flight school. She was tough and talented, two things that Jake admired. She also seemed to hate him with a passion, which only made him fall in love with her faster (he blames his messed up childhood for that). Being stationed on the same carrier together meant that Jake got to see her quite a bit. He wasn’t surprised to see she was similar to him in a lot of ways; a loner most of the time, perfectionism making more people turn away than turn towards them. If Jake was a better man he would have tried to have been the friend Phoenix needed; would have tried to win her over and become close, not that anyone could convince Natasha Trace of anything she didn’t want to do.

Unfortunately the only language Jake knows when it comes to Natasha is asshole and just like in school, most days the only words they exchange are insults and barbs. After his mission, he expected her to be the first one to shoot down the prestige that has been raining down on him from all the others, yet it seems the female pilot is avoiding him as much as she can now on their carrier. It actually takes three days after his confirmed kill for him to even see Natasha. She is in the galley throwing away the rest of her lunch when Jake walks in and their eyes meet. Suddenly Jake’s hunger is gone and he heads back out the door, pushing past other sailors who grumble about the inconvenience but let him pass.

He hears the first time she calls his name, his call-sign, formality laced in her tone, but Jake keeps walking. She hollers again, louder, more insistent, but Jake is a master at running away and he can see the corner of the hallway in sight.

“Jake” Natasha yells now, loud and annoyed and her typical attitude when it comes to the cocky blonde. He can’t pretend anymore, the crowd thinned enough that Jake has to have heard her. He turns around and offers her a smirk, “Phoenix” he drawls, as his accent tings on the last syllable.

She catches up to him quickly and the two square off. She watches him for a moment, scrutinizing like she always does with him. Her dark eyes narrow at his hooded eyes, “you look like shit,” her lack of manners is always refreshing to him except for today. He feels exposed. “Guess I went a little hard in the partying last night,” he excuses, “I don’t know if you’ve heard but I got the first active duty-“

“Oh I heard” Nat interrupts and Jake can’t find the words to describe how relieved he is to not have to say it to her. The woman in front of him takes a step closer, still accessing, still reading him better than anyone else on the whole damn ship. "I heard the day it happened" she explains further.

“No congratulations?” Jake pretends to be wounded, “I guess jealousy does that to a person.”

“I’m not jealous” she looks around them, notices that they are all alone in the hallway now, “I’m worried about you.” Her words dripped with a concern that punches him right in the gut.

It should be so easy to be nice in this situation. So easy for Jake to thank Natasha for being the closest thing he has to a friend in the Navy besides Javy Machado. So easy to tell her that she should be worried because he’s not handling this well, thank you very much. His lack of sleep, barely there appetite and constant perch of being on the cusp of a breakdown, proof of it. But he can't say all that, not to her, can't let her see the weakness that resides inside him. Instead the blonde gives another god awful smirk, “Worried that you finally have to admit I’m the superior pilot?” he goats, “I’m the best in a generation they are sayin'."

She ignores his bragging, looking down and seeing his hands, his fingers shaking. Nat’s own hands shoot forward, centimeters away from grabbing his before she stops, the invisible force of their lack of camaraderie working as a barrier. When she looks back at his face, hands still poised out from his, Jake’s breath hitches and he turns, running away like the coward he will always be.

That night, as he fails again to get any meaningful sleep, Jake shuffles his exhausted body up to the flight deck. Its pitch black out with only a skeleton crew on duty, seniority meaning that higher ranking officials are given the normal sleeping hours. Nobody even looks at him as he makes his way to the railing, his shaky hands finding purchase on the cold metallic bar.

He isn’t sure what draws him out here until he smells the salty air and a calm settles over him. Jake has spent the last few days trying to find his place in his new world but it seems that no matter how hard he tries he just can’t. He has taken a life, killed someone and his body will continue to rebel against him in every way it can until he pays his penance.

A life for a life.

The ocean around him is cold in April but nothing is colder to Jake than his own heart. He always thought he was strong for everything he had gone through growing up but now he knows the truth, Jake is weak. He is weak and he is broken, both unfixable. His only hope, his only respite, lies before him in the dark abyss of the waves.

He’s read of PTSD wreaking havoc on soldiers’ minds, the guilt of actions beyond their control crumbling their foundations until nothing is left standing. He never thought it would be him; but as he stands, prepared to meet his maker, Jake begins to understand his own diagnosis. He has spent days being praised for an action that will haunt him forever, celebrated for it even. His CO has informed him that at the end of the month he will receive a commendation for the kill, something to wear on his uniform as a stark reminder for the rest of his serving days.

Jake knows he will never be able to survive it.

He can’t survive now. Not when every day he wakes up with the weight of his actions pulling him under. The feeling of snuffing someone’s life choking him as he struggles to take a breath. The nightmare of someone’s last moments reappearing every time he dares to close his eyes. He knows that when they reach shore he will be forced to tell his actions again, to more Captains and Admirals and even other pilots. He knows that his entire career will now be defined by murder.

He can’t bear the thought of it.

It’s not an easy decision, Jake has overcome so much in his life that he thinks it is almost sad that this is what pushes him over the edge. But he is tired, so, so tired and the thought of finally finding some kind of peace and rest is enough to get him to make up his mind.

He closes his eyes and let’s his remaining senses take in this final moment. The smell of the ocean, the sounds of the waves, the tranquility at his fingertips, the end of his private war.

“Jake” a voice calls, and like a child caught out of place, Jake startles back from the railing guiltily, a blush on his cheeks in the chilly night air.

Turning, he sees Natasha walking forward; Navy issued pajamas hugging her body, her normal bun gone and her beautiful hair whipping around in the harsh wind, “Jake?” she speaks again taking another cautious step forward, as though she was moving towards a wounded animal and not a six foot grown man who has killed another.

He has killed, and yet here Phoenix comes, moving closer to him. For all her attitude and lack of charm towards him, Natasha still feels like a ray of light every time she is in his vicinity. Jake’s world feels a little less dark as he watches her come closer, his heart feels a little less dead.

He knows he doesn't deserve it.

“I think you’ve been out here long enough Jake” Natasha informs him knowingly, as though she has gathered his intention just by the few seconds she's been out here with him. Knowing Phoenix like he does, she probably has. “Time to take it back inside" she nods towards the doors.

There’s nothing in the world he would love more but he knows he can’t survive another night alone, another night of battling guilt and misery with no one on his side. He clears his throat, “I’m good,” he tells her, looking back at the water to keep himself on task. “I just need a few more minutes-“

A strong hand reaches over and pulls Jake back by his shirt. Suddenly he’s assaulted with the warm smell of vanilla as Phoenix comes between him and the railing. Her dark eyes watch him silently, seeing his broken soul as he tries to bite his lip to prevent a sob at the thought that someone has finally chosen to stand between him and danger. “It’s time to go back inside now Jake” she says again, more insistent, “you’re not finding what you need out here.”

“How do you know” he rasps, cursing the brokenness that has crept into his voice.

Her smile is sad but it still manages to warm something in his belly, “because” she tells him softly, taking a gentle hand to his chest, so close to his frozen heart, “I know the real you” she whispers, "and you don't want to do this."

He shakes his head and sniffles back a sob lodged in his throat. He can't allow her to see him like this, to see his flaws so perfectly on display, "I just need air."

Nat's face contorts, as though she feels the pain raging within him herself, and maybe she does, as she moves in closer, pushing her hand harder into his chest. "This isn't the answer" she informs, taking a moment to look behind her at the dark ocean, at Jake's plan to escape his own torment, before she turns back to him. "Whatever you think that will solve, it-" her voice breaks and Jake looks up to see her brown eyes glistening with unshed tears in the moonlight, "it won't."

"It's what I deserve."

A look of fury passes over Phoenix's face, but like a flash fire it's gone quickly. In its place she looks at Hangman with nothing but concern and care, "No it's not. You are not the monster you think you are" the woman shares with a hand rising to cup his cheek. It spurs the first feelings of calm that Hangman has felt in decades. Nat must pick up on it because she refuses to lower her hand, "I know you're struggling right now," she strokes his face gently, "I do, but I also know how strong you are-"

He leans into the touch with closed eyes, unable to stop himself when a sob ripples from his throat, “I’m not strong-“

“Yes you are” her voice is closer, and he can feel her slowly steer him back towards the ship’s doors with a hand around his back, her smaller frame making her arm barely come around his body, “you’re the strongest man I know Jake, and you’re going to get through this.”

He shakes his head, opening his green eyes to see the tears have finally fallen from her brown ones. He takes his own hand up and reaches to wipe the water away from her beautiful face. "Please don't cry for me" he begs, "I'm not worth it."

She puts her own hand on top of his, pins it against her face, “Yes you are. I can’t lose you Jake” she tells him unabashedly, “and I’m afraid I am.”

It's too much, her words and feelings too much, for someone as soiled as Jake 'Hangman' Seresin. Natasha doesn't deserve to be wasting tears on someone as evil as him. He clears his throat and confesses, the guilt too much, “I killed someone” he reminds her. He expects her to rip her hand away, to remember what he has done and show him the disdain he deserves.

Instead all he sees is more sadness from the woman in front of him.

 “Yes” Natasha agrees, never one to lie or sugar coat, “you did. You did your job and something terrible happened-“

“They don’t think it’s terrible” Jake motions to the ship, “everyone is celebrating me.” He scoffs, “I’ll forever be known as the man with the air to air kill.”

She shakes her head at his words, disappointment clear though even his moroseness he knows it's not directed at him, “we both know you’re much more than that.”

“Then what am I?”

“A good man” she answers quickly, the words sharp as tacks. They pierce his heart and he feels like he’s bleeding out, but at least he’s feeling something again besides the guilt that has swallowed him whole. “Now come on” she offers a hand.

He looks at it for a moment before shaking his head, “I can’t-" he cuts off, the first snivel of emotions letting loose outloud, "I can’t sleep. I just keep thinking about w- what I did and how when I get back to shore, I'll-" he hesitates, not sure how to articulate his fears of being expected to go back to the real world and continue to live.

“Javy is already waiting” Natasha looks as though she can read his mind, “and I lined up someone to talk to."

"What?" Jake chokes wetly, the urge to see his best friend- his brother, squeezing his heart " You called Javy?"

"Of course. He's on leave so he's going to meet us both at the dock. You'll see him the minute we disembark" She gives Hangman a warm embrace, hugging tight, earning another thaw to his heart. “You’re not alone in this Jake” she promises not daunted at all by the loud sobs now rocking through the man’s body, “we’re going to help you through it. All of us. Together."

Natasha leads him back inside, the door closing behind them and the taunting of the waves outside finally leaving him. Jake is brought back to Natasha’s bunk where he is gathered into her smaller arms and wrapped with all the blankets the woman owns.

Jake feels the pulls of his exhaustion finally winning out and he closes his eyes. Just as he is about to sleep he feels a kiss on his temple. Natasha’s whisper of “sweet dreams” is the last thing he hears before he finally succumbs to his exhaustion.

And for the first time since he shot the plane down, Jake doesn't dream at all, just sleeps. In the morning he finds Natasha still next to him, her tiny body his protection from the cruelty of his own mind and memories.

Jake's hands are still.

Four years later and Jake heads back to Top Gun on a special deployment, his excitement to see Coyote the one thing keeping him grounded until he sees Natasha enter the bar. Immediately he brightens, heading over to cut her off, ignoring the two lackeys she’s managed to pick up.

It’s been awhile since he’s seen her, even longer since they got along. After Phoenix saved him on the carrier that day she kept her promise, getting him a therapist and combined with Coyote, getting him the help he needed to process his actions and continue to serve his nation like he was doing today. Once he was back in a good headspace, Jake decided to take one last gamble, decided to tell Natasha how he really felt, to confess his love for the woman and convince her to give him a chance to prove how good of a man he could be.

He drove all the way to Lemoore to meet her after a deployment, a bouquet of flowers in his hands as a welcome home, only to see her running and jumping into the arms of one Bradley Bradshaw. The two left in the mustached man's Bronco and Jake learned that while Natasha might have liked him enough to help him, she would never like him enough to love him.

His already fragile heartbroken again, Jake brought Hangman back with a vengeance. His cocky smirk became permanently attached as he berated other pilots especially Natasha when they were in the air. The woman always met his challenges with sarcasm and disappointed looks until finally she gave up, treating Hangman with the disparagement he knows he earned.

It doesn’t mean his heart doesn’t ache when she glides through the Hard Deck easily just like the planes she’s mastered.

“If it ain’t Phoenix” Jake drawls, his personality set to asshole, and his lines falling naturally from his mouth. He lugs his pool stick with him as he moves closer, “and here I thought we were special Coyote” he gripes. His best friend remains silent but observant, sidling up behind him as Phoenix stops right in front of Jake’s face with a smirk. “Turns out,” the blonde pilot plants himself on the pool table, “the invite went to anyone.”

Natasha’s face is just as assessing as it normally looks when she sees him and her eyes narrow when she knows their game is on. “Fellas” she addresses the men behind her, “this here’s Bagman-“

“Hangman” he corrects, still smiling, willing to take her banter if it keeps her eyes on him longer.

Her brown orbs roll, her annoyance obvious, “whatever” she murmurs, her head lulling up slightly. And then she goes for the jugular, “You’re looking at the only Naval Aviator on active duty with a confirmed air to air kill.” She says it with nonchalance but Jake knows she’s trying to wound him. Her words purposeful like everything she does or says. He would be lying if he said it didn't break something within him.

He can feel Javy's eyes on him but Jake plays his part, giving Phoenix a faux shy murmur of "stop" as though he welcomed her words when instead he wants to scream that he is so much more than the confirmed kill and she should know it.

She’s the one that convinced him after all.

“Mind you” and Jake’s eyes move back to Natasha’s lips as she hits him with another cheap shot, “the other guy was in a museum piece from the Korean War-“

“Cold war” Coyote jumps in, knowing that Jake won’t.

“Different War” Random lackey number one begins, “same century.”

“Not this one” Lackey number two finishes.

Coyote forces introductions but Jake’s no longer caring. His eyes still watching Natasha throughout the interaction. As the night progresses and the beers flow, Jake moves to talk to the woman but he is shot down as her attention jumps to a certain mustached man in an ugly Hawaiian shirt. Jake knows his night is over. He does his little dance with Rooster like normal, says nasty and asshole things to the others to cement his status as biggest dick on the team (and not in a good way), and then he’s sneaking out after throwing out some old timer for Penny as Rooster sings that damn song on the piano again.

As he leaves the bar he notices his hands shaking once more, the panic that he has worked so hard to quell, coming back with just a few words from the woman he loves and a reminder of the red on his ledger. He makes it back to his housing without incident, falling upon his bed and burying his face in the pillow as he tries to stifle his scream of anguish. Of all the people to bring up the kill, he never wanted it to be her. Natasha saw him that night, she saw him at his worst, and she saved his life from doing something he can’t ever bring up again.

She used his worst moment against him and though he knows he deserves it, it still stings that it was her that sunk that low with him.

She was always supposed to be better, and yet Jake ruined her like he ruins everything else.

A knock on his door startles him and Jake wishes it would be her. He wouldn’t even want an apology, just a chance to see in her eyes that she only threw out those words because he changed on her but she knows her Jake is still somewhere inside.

He can be that Jake for her.

“Dude you in there?” It’s not Natasha, but Javy, the only person left in Jake’s corner. "Hey man? You awake?" his best friends asks quietly. Jake can hear the way he is leaning up against the door and for once the blonde is thankful that he has had the foresight to lock his door. It isn't that he doesn’t want to see Javy, he just knows the man will want to try to help any way he can and Jake doesn’t deserve that. He doesn’t deserve anything good.

"Alright" Javy sighs, "I just wanted to check on you, you kinda split really quickly over there” he hesitates, clearly wanting to say more. Another hand hits his door, “I know what she said in there but you know she didn’t mean it. You guys just need to-“ Javy trails off for a moment, “it will work out” he offers instead and Jake can picture his best friend's worried frown, "Alright I guess you’re asleep already, long flight in taking its toll. If you need anything” he offers as parting words, “you know where to find me." He gives one more tap on the wood for good measure, "‘Night Jake."

Jake listens as Coyote’s footsteps head away leaving him all alone once more. He looks down at his hands, the hands that have killed; the hands that have destroyed countless people’s lives and he sees that they have begun to shake once more. The weight that took so long to free himself of is back as well, settling on his chest and drowning him with bad thoughts.

He wants to be mad at how far he has fallen back into his despair but his love for Natasha will always win out and he makes a promise to himself. He’s not sure what this mission is going to entail for them all but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out it’s something serious; especially if they brought back all the best Top Gun has to offer. Jake steels himself, forces his mind to relax as he declares right then and there in his shitty temporary housing that no matter what is called upon for this team, he’s doing it. He is taking the spot; he is taking the shot, he is leading them all to be the best of the best, if only to protect the others and especially her from having to do what he had to. He will do anything to stop Natasha from dying inside like he has.

With his new resolve he looks back down at his lap.

His hands finally stop shaking.

[lieutenantfloyd]

SFW Alphabet | Javy 'Coyote' Machado x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: mentions of jealousy

Authors note: I could’ve sworn I added this to the queue earlier this week, but apparently not! Anyways, this was very fun to write and I’m excited to finally have some Javy content on my blog!

a- asking (Who’s the first person to confess and how does it happen?)

It depends on how serious he is about things. If he’s flirting with you and/or getting your number, he’s practically dripping charm and confidence. Yet when it comes to asking you out on an actual date, this man is in shambles. He ends up staying in the talking phase with you while he mulls over things. Eventually, he explains the situation to Hangman, who instills him with the confidence he needs to finally call and ask you out.

B - Butterflies (How they act when they’re nervous.)

One of the things you admire most about Coyote is how strong his mindset is. Because of this, it’s actually extremely rare for him to get nervous. On the rare occasion he does, he gets tunnel vision—his sole focus being on overcoming whatever is catching him up. This tactic has never failed him before, but you still make sure that he knows you’ll be there for him in the event that it fails.

c- cuddles (What is their favorite cuddling position? Do they like physical touch?)

Coyote is incredibly physically affectionate. Cuddle sessions are almost always spontaneous, and he has zero preferences when it comes to position.

d- domesticity (Are they the type to settle down with you? Are they willing to help with chores? What is your daily routine with them?)

Settling down with Coyote is… non-traditional. He’s down for starting a life together, getting a house, and even having a couple of babies. On the flip side of this, he’s still young and restless and wants to live life to the fullest. When you do start having these serious life conversations, he’ll hesitantly open up and tell you that while he’s 100% committed and wants to spend his life with you, he doesn’t see himself walking down the aisle for at least several more years.

e- encouragement (Do they encourage you to achieve your goals? If so, how do they support you?)

When people say that their significant other is their cheerleader, no one means it quite as literally as you do with Javy. If him dressing up in a cheer uniform is what you need to succeed, he’ll do it in a heartbeat.

f- favorite thing(s) about you (What are their favorite personality traits/physical features about you?)

His favorite thing in the world is to see your smile, followed by your confidence. Something about his S/O walking into any room with their head held high and not being afraid to speak their mind gets him all worked up.

g- goofiness (Do they like to make you laugh? How often do they joke around with you?)

As mentioned above, Javy adores your smile. There is rarely a serious moment between you, which provides some much needed levity to the struggles of everyday life.

h- honesty (Would they lie to you? How much do they share with you?)

Javy will never tell you a lie and is typically honest to a fault. He believes that honesty is the best policy and is comfortable coming to you with anything.

i- impression (What was their first impression of you? Was it positive or negative?)

To anyone who asks, Javy will say that it was love at first sight for him. While you might find this dramatic, he’s 100% serious. From the moment he laid eyes on you, he knew you were the one for him.

j- jealousy (Are they the type of person to get jealous? If so, how do they react to being jealous?)

Javy’s jealousy is one of the biggest points of contention in your relationship. It’s not a rare sight to see Javy going toe to toe with anyone he feels is a threat, or in more extreme cases, removing you from the situation. His jealous actions have spurred on their fair share of arguments between you. With you feeling like he’s more of an overbearing parent than a significant other. From his perspective, it’s not that he doesn’t trust you, it’s that he doesn’t trust other people to treat you right.

k- kissing (Where do they like to kiss you? How frequently do they like to kiss?)

Anywhere, anytime, and any place, Javy will kiss you like it’s his last day on earth. It’s honestly something he prides himself in. As your relationship progresses, he starts keeping score of how many times he can interrupt your daily tasks by walking up and kissing you until you're breathless.

l- love language (What’s their love language?)

Words of affirmation. Be his hypeman, and he’ll love you forever.

m- marriage (Do they want to marry you eventually? Who proposes to who?)

Like in letter D, marriage with Javy is definitely on the table, but not for a good long while. His parents instilled in him to take marriage very seriously and he doesn’t want to make that decision until he’s 100% ready. And when the time is right, he’s absolutely proposing.

n- nicknames (What do they call you? What do you call them?)

Javy refuses to use or answer to anything but the most painfully cheesy pet names. For you: Peaches, Boobear, babycakes For him: Sugarplum, darling. Light of my life…

o- openness (How much do they tell you about themselves? Do they reveal everything at once or gradually throughout the relationship?)

With Coyote’s big personality, it’s not hard for even complete strangers to learn just all about him. When it comes to deeper topics like his childhood and what he wants in life, he’s equally as open.

p- PDA (Are they affectionate in public or do they prefer to keep your kisses behind closed doors? Are they the type to brag about their SO?)

He’s open for some hand holding and quick kisses, though he much prefers to keep anything further than that just between you two.

q- quality time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

Javy loves to stay active, but he also loves rest and relaxation. Your time together is just as likely to be spent on hiking trails as it is on the couch binge watching your favorite comfort shows.

r- romance (Are they the romantic type? If so, how do they express their feelings?)

Despite being very forward with his feelings romance doesn’t come naturally to him. While that doesn’t mean he isn’t trying, he’s definitely still that guy running around the supermarket on valentine's day trying to get their partner a gift.

s- security (How protective are they of you? If they are, how do they show this?)

The flip side of his naturally jealous nature is that Javy will always defend your honor. He prefers to keep things to a verbal dispute with fighting being a last resort, though it’s never completely off the table,

t- turn-offs (What traits do they find unattractive?)

People who take things too seriously. People who lack passion and drive in life.

u- understanding (Are they good at sympathizing with your problems? Do they listen to you when you need to rant?)

He is very understanding, and hopes you'll give him the same level of grace.

v- value (What do they value most about your relationship?)

Javy values your stability. Being the wildcard that he is, he often tells you that you are the calm to his storm.

w- wild card (A random headcanon about your relationship)

Living with Javy means your nightly routine consists of skincare and face masks, matching pajamas, and staying up far too late playing Mario Kart.

x- x-ray (How well are they able to read you?)

He’s not terrible at reading you, but he wants to get better. As your relationship progresses, he masters the art of making a conscious habit/effort of anticipating your wants and needs.

y- yearning (How well do they cope when their SO isn’t with them?)

While he doesn’t consider himself clingy, he does start to struggle during longer deployments, especially if he can’t hear your voice. This is when he really starts to rely on his closest friends to help fill the emotional and social void.

z- zappy (Are they fast-paced in a relationship? Or do they like to take things slow?)

Once Javy starts dating someone, he puts all his energy into building the relationship until things feel stable. This—along with his fast paced life—has caused most of his past relationships to fizzle out. As long as you’re both putting in the effort to keep the spark alive, your relationship with Javy will be the adventure of a lifetime.

Taglist: @shakira-sasha @oliviah-25 @alexxavicry @withakindheartx @teti-menchon0604 @kmc1989

[callsignspark]

soft-tober | 01 | Javy Machado

soft-tober is about experiencing the joys of October with loved ones. each day is a fall-related one-shot for one of the couples from my Dagger, Sword & Shield universe, plus a few extras! today is Javy and Erin with "Do you want some hot chocolate?" from this prompt list.

If you’d like to be tagged for soft-tober, please send an ask!

word count: 1k

soft-tober masterlist | main masterlist | divider credit here

warnings: extreme fluff, mentions of being naked but nothing nsfw

callsignspark disclaimer: my blog is an 18+ space; minors do not interact - you will be blocked. I do not consent to my work being copied, run through an AI generator, translated, or posted elsewhere. I do have an AO3, where I eventually will be cross-posting my works.

01. “Do you want some hot chocolate?”

The beeping of the alarm clock rouses both of them, as it has every morning since they started sharing a room. And like every morning since then, Javy presses a kiss to whatever part of Erin’s face isn’t smushed into her pillow before silencing the alarm. She’s back asleep before he can get up to go through his pre-run routine. Double-check the weather report. Stretch. Make a post-run smoothie.

Today, he doesn’t even get to the first step.

Instead of sunlight streaming through the windows, rain is pelting the glass, making their room chilly. Javy lays there for a minute, two halves of him arguing whether it’s really necessary to run this morning. He knows he should. It’s his third year being a TOP GUN instructor, and while he’s still in fantastic shape, it’s very slowly getting trickier to keep up with the kids he’s teaching.

Ultimately, with a promise to do half an hour on the treadmill later, the side that’s arguing to stay under the warm covers with his girlfriend wins. He rolls towards her, staring at her freckled face and chuckling to himself at the way her face is mushed against his pillow that she’d somehow stolen during the night, a tiny puddle of drool staining the fabric. Something only he finds adorable.

Erin Messuri is a lot of things - smart, funny, caring - but she is not a pretty sleeper. Javy learned that soon after she became his roommate. That first week, after she moved into the room that had previously been Jake’s, he was stumped as to how someone so beautiful could wake up looking like she fought someone in her sleep and then, within 20 minutes, be completely ready for the day. Then she fell asleep on the couch one night after dinner, and Javy watched in real time as she contorted herself into the most uncomfortable position he’d ever seen and immediately started snoring.

Looking back, he realizes that’s probably the moment he fell in love with her. Though he didn’t realize it for several months.

“You’re still here.” Erin’s voice is soft, and if it wasn’t for the fact that he watched her mouth move, he wouldn’t have known she was awake.

“It’s too chilly to run this morning.” He leans forward, pulling the covers down to kiss her shoulder, still bare from last night's activities. “Wanted to stay with you.”

She hums, shifting to her side so they’re pressed chest to chest. “Well, I’m not complaining. I never get to wake up with you during the week.”

The words have barely left her mouth before her head goes heavy against his arm, asleep again. Javy smiles to himself, brushing a soft hand over her hair and pressing a kiss to his girlfriend’s head.

Soon to be fiancée.

The little voice in his head reminds him, making his eyes dart to the dresser, picturing the black velvet box hidden in the back of the drawer that holds his flight suits. The one drawer Erin never goes in because the lingering jet fuel smell can irritate her asthma.

A tiny irrational fear that something has happened to the simple silver band with a blue sapphire gemstone, the stone representing the month they met, causing him to check on it once or twice a day. He likes to think he’s been relatively normal and calm since purchasing the ring, but he’s not sure how successful he’s been. He knows he’s been better than Jake, who was so twitchy that Flora figured out what was going on two days after the piece of gold jewelry that she now wears every day was purchased.

Javy lets them lay there until Erin’s first alarm - the first of five - goes off, smothering a laugh at how she rolls over and smacks at the alarm clock until it stops beeping without ever fully waking up.

“C’mon, baby; if you get up with me right now, I’ll give you a special treat.”

“No, thank you; you gave me a special treat last night.”

This time, he can’t stop the laughter. Laughing even harder when she rolls over, shooting a grumpy look at him, one that would be more effective if she wasn’t naked with her hair sticking up.

“Well, as special as last night’s treat was, I was thinking more along the sustenance route. Waffles and something a little different. Do you want some hot chocolate?”

“Coffee.”

“No hot chocolate?” Javy teases. Erin loves chocolate, but as long as they’ve known each other, she’s never started the day without coffee.

“What if you made me a homemade Dunkaccino?”

He blinks at her. “What the fuck is a Dunkaccino? Is this some stupid East Coast thing?”

“First of all, you’re also from the East Coast, Mr. Florida Man.”

“I am from New Orleans! Being born in Florida is an unfortunate circumstance that I could not control!”

“Second!” She continues, talking over him as she climbs into his lap, awake now that he’s got her riled up. “Nothing made by Dunkin’ Donuts is stupid - you’ve just been deprived. Third-”

Erin squeaks as Javy flips them over, the two laughing as he hovers over her and presses slow kisses against her neck and collarbones.

“Third, a Dunkaccino is a delicious combination of coffee and hot chocolate that is the perfect way to warm up on a rainy October day, but they stopped making it years ago.”

“Mmmm… I can probably finagle something like that together for you, ma’am.”

“Really?”

“Of course. No promises if it’ll be good.”

“Well, as long as there’s still regular coffee, that’s a risk I’m willing to take.” Her eyes twinkle at him, making his heart pound after all these years.

“God, I love you.” Javy kisses her, probably a little too passionately considering it’s before seven on a Tuesday, but he can’t help it. Overcome by her and her smile, her laugh, her dependence on caffeine that should probably be concerning but isn’t considering her job.

Erin pulls back, her cheeks a little pink from the intensity of the kiss. “I love you, too.”

He almost breaks, almost asks her to marry him right there and then, ruining the surprise engagement he has planned for next month, but she interrupts him before he can.

“Javy?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I still need the coffee, no matter how you end up presenting it to me.”

“On it.” Mrs. Machado, he adds silently, pressing one more kiss to her lips before pulling on his shorts and heading to the kitchen, closing out the browser tab he was using to research local photographers in favor of figuring out how to best combine coffee and hot chocolate to make something that actually tastes good.

@gretagerwigsmuse | @hangmanapologist | @hangmanbrainrot | @princessphilly | @hangmanssunnies | @thesewordsareallihavetogive | @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby | @katieshook02 | @hellojameshowyadoin | @aristotles-butthole | @atarmychick007 | @whatislovevavy | @kmc1989 | @sometimesanalice | @laracrofted | @yuckosworld | @mika-darling | @bradshawsbaddie | @bobblebobsbae | | @ohtobeleah | @withahappyrefrain

[beyondthesefourwalls]

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! 

----

____

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

[sailor-aviator]

All That Glitters Masterlist

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...

Series CW: Swearing, violence, period related violence and swearing, slow burn, fluff, (eventual) smut, enemies to lovers in a way, suggestive language, references to prostitution, firearms, etc. Chapter specific warnings will be included.

All posts related to this series will be tagged as "ATG" and "All that Glitters"

*Denotes smut

Masterlist || DPU Masterlist

Series;

Prologue

Chapter One (Coming Soon)

[theharddeck]

your love is the love I need || chapter 1/4

pairing: javy machado x femme reader (no y/n), callsign Cross

summary: Cross and Javy are very good friends. Javy might've let it slip to his mother that they're more. A little fake dating never hurt anyone, right?

warnings: 18+, minors please DNI – no smut in this chapter (there defs will be in later chapters, and I never want someone to be caught off guard) but there is an attempted roofie-ing in this chapter.

length: 6.2k

A/N: literally the biggest shoutout in the WORLD to @daggerspare-standingbystandingby for talking me off a ledge, and also line editing, and also depth. @bradshawsbitch and @laracrofted thank you for always brainstorming with me 💙

Saturday

“Cross, get in here; I need a stand-in.”

You’d been looking for a glass for your cherry coke in cabinets at the Miramar Family Center, but at Hangman’s call, you grabbed a straw and jogged back over to the pool table. Bob folded a napkin and slid it across the table as you got closer and you smiled at him gratefully before setting the sweating can down on it.

“Tapping out already, Hangman?” Phoenix asked from across the table, where she was wiping chalk over the end of her pool cue. 

“You and Avalone wish,” Jake drawled, smiling wanly at the group. “Nah, I’ve got to pick something up; I’ll be right back.”

He tossed his pool cue at you without looking and you considered letting it clatter to the ground, but you grabbed it out of the air, trying not to read into the gesture too much. 

You were a recent addition to the squad; when Fanboy had decided he wanted to try piloting again, they’d needed a WSO to fly with Payback. Having only been a teammate for a couple months, you were still finding your footing with the group. Everyone had been welcoming, of course, but there were times that you felt the little idioms and questions were a type of test. Tests that you were determined to pass, not just for the sake of assimilation, but because this was a team you were genuinely proud to be a part of, and you wanted them to know it. 

“Am I solid or stripes?” you asked, looking down at the table, confused by the seeming lack of structure on the felt.

“We’re playing cutthroat,” Payback said, looking after Hangman with a grimace, for not giving you any context.

“We’re 11-15,” Coyote said, because of course he and Jake had been a team. He swiped the chalk that Phoenix had been using, and as he dropped it into your palm, his fingertips brushed yours. You tried to ignore it, it was just an accidental brush, but your skin prickled anyway, and you looked away quickly.

“1-5,” Phoenix cut in, pointing between her and Fritz. 

“6-10,” Payback finished, lifting a fist in Bob’s direction, as the WSO held up a clenched hand obediently.

“Cool,” you said, deciding if you wanted to take on the pilot who held your life in his hands any time you got in the back of an F/A-18, or Phoenix. 

Which, honestly, wasn’t even a question.

You surveyed the felt once more, before seeing a clear shot for the 9 ball, walking around the table to take it, and shooting Bob an apologetic look as the ball clattered into the pocket.

“I knew I liked you,” Natasha cooed.

“Yeah, I don’t know why we bother,” Payback sighed to Bob, who shrugged, both of them good-naturedly.

“Atta girl,” Coyote crowed, and Phoenix nodded approvingly and you grinned at her, rather than risk looking at him. Not with the butterflies that erupted in your stomach at his completely platonic praise. You were on the same team, it was nothing more than that, and now was so not the time for your relentless crush to make an appearance.

Pool wasn’t really your game, and you weren’t at all surprised when you botched the next shot, flustered by the nearly six feet of Abercrombie model at your shoulder. You backed away from the table as Billy stepped up, apparently next in order. 

You swiped your soda from the table by Bob, crossing the room to perch on the side of a sofa and wait for your turn again, or Jake’s reappearance, whichever came first. 

Your eyes flitted over to Javy, as they always seemed to, when you weren’t actively trying not to. It wasn’t your fault he was magnetic. 

All easy smiles and broad shoulders, deep protectiveness and unabashed confidence, just as good as Hangman and Rooster and Phoenix, less likely to call attention to it. The way he’d look deep at whoever was talking to him, nodding along as he gave them his full attention. 

At present, that person was Phoenix, and Javy’s shoulders dipped as he hunched his back slightly, to get closer and hear her better. You played with the end of your pool stick, watching as their heads tilted together, quietly commenting on the table as Fritz lined up a shot.

“It’s a statistical impossibility, right?” Halo whispered, appearing next to you on the couch. “For them to be that pretty and that good of pilots?”

You followed her gaze to the trio around the table and shook your head, agreeing. 

“The worst part of it,” you mumbled back, “is that they have the audacity to be decent people, so we can’t even do the easy thing and dislike them for being perfect.”

Halo clicked her tongue against her teeth, fiddling with the plastic cap of a water bottle. 

“That’s why they need us,” she mused. “You, me, and Bob: subverting expectations as gorgeous backseaters.”

You snorted, before Callie’s words registered, and you looked over at her, your voice teasing when you asked, “Bob, huh?”

She shrugged lightly, even as a pretty flush bloomed on her cheeks.

“Completely impartially, of course,” she said, sheepishly. You smiled reassuringly, bumping her shoulder with yours, and she tilted her head as she looked back at the table. 

“How’s that view from your glass house?” she asked, sweetly, making you nearly choke on your soda when you saw she was looking pointedly at Coyote. 

“Is it that obvious?” you asked.

“I mean, it was a guess, but that just confirmed it,” Callie smiled broadly, before sighing again. “I think crushes on other pilots is the particular curse of Wizzos—we know better, but we think we’re smart enough to get around it.”

“I’ll drink to that,” you muttered, bumping your soda can into her water bottle, memory taking you back a couple months to a night just like this one. 

It was your first day in San Diego; you’d caught an early flight and were able to move into your off-base apartment and walk around North Island for a bit, exploring before you’d meet your detachment the following morning. As the sun sank over the Pacific, you walked along the beach, enjoying the warm sand and cooling air. You could hear a piano in the distance, something you assumed was the effect of a bluetooth speaker until you realized it came from a bar a little farther down the beach, and you redirected your footsteps towards it. 

The Hard Deck smelled like sweat and good beer, and you clocked a couple different types of badges as you scanned the room. There was a good chance someone here would recognize you tomorrow, so you asked for a coke from the older man behind the bar, settling on a stool and looking around.

There was a man with a mustache and aviators (Indoors. At night.) at the piano, his head cocked back as he worked through the greatest hits of the 60s. Beside him, a stunning woman in a tight bun stood shoulder-to-shoulder with an impossibly tall man, also with a mustache, both of them singing along enthusiastically. A pool table was nearby, a couple more uniforms draped across it, and two men were playing darts against the wall closest to you.

Well, one of them was playing darts. 

The blond man was clearly in his element, sinking bullseye after bullseye, and the man beside him seemed content enough to let him play it out. It wasn’t so much a competition, as it was one man showboating, and his friend humoring him.

The louder of the two was making jokes about his odds, calling shots before he took them, and every now and then his partner would quietly say something that would make his shoulders laugh enough to miss his shot. Their conversation faded into the noise of the bar as you turned on your stool, looking around you. When you came back to the bartop, you noticed a man sidling up to a younger girl a couple stools down from you. 

She was rebuffing him as gently as she could, and he seemed to be taking it pretty well—until she turned to chat with someone over her shoulder, and he dropped something in her drink while she was preoccupied. 

Your jaw dropped; that’d been clear as day. But the bar was crowded, and she’d been distracted by her friends, and your heart lurched when she reached back for her drink without paying attention. 

“Hey, wait!” you called down the bar, and she turned to look at you. Along with the half of the bar, you assumed, but you slid off the seat rather than check and see how much of an audience you had. The girl frowned at you, an unfamiliar face yelling at her, but whatever she saw in your expression held her attention for the moment it took you to get down to her. 

“Sorry,” you said, quietly as you could, when you got closer to her. “I didn’t want to make a scene, but he definitely put something in your drink.”

“Oh my gosh,” the girl set the drink down on the bar, glaring at the man. “What the hell, you creep!!”

“I didn’t—,” the man’s face flushed, and he looked angrily at you before at the people around him, placatingly. “Hold on, you can’t just go around accusing—”

“It’s not an accusation if it’s true,” you said, turning to the bartender. “Are you the owner?”

He shook his head, looking over your shoulder at some of the other patrons, then set down the tap he was pouring. “I’ll get Penny.”

“Now, hang on Jimmy,” the creep sputtered. “I-I didn’t do anything, you can’t prove I—”

“Drink it, then.”

Everyone turned at the deep voice, as someone else stepped towards the bar. You recognized one of the men from the dartboard, the quiet one, and he crossed his arms as he came up behind you. 

The creep’s expression paled as he took in the tall frame of the pilot behind you. “I mean, it’s her drink, I’m not–”

The girl slid her drink down the bartop, in front of the man. “Go on.”

A door slammed in the back of the bar and a moment later, a slim brunette woman let herself behind the counter. She stalked behind the bar, looking sharply at you. 

“You saw it?” she asked.

You nodded, and her jaw ticked. She planted her hands on the bar, looking the creep clearly in the face, like she was memorizing it, before she covered the drink with saran wrap and handed it behind her to Jimmy. 

“You’re gonna wait in my office until the police get here,” she told the man, her voice level. “And when you leave with them, you will not set foot in this bar again. Understood?”

“Police?” the man echoed, his eyes going wide. “Hold on, this is all getting blown out of proportion, all I did was—”

Penny jerked her head to the side, and you felt a hand on your shoulder for a moment as the quiet pilot brushed by you to reach for the creep. The blond man was with him, suddenly, and they unceremoniously hauled the creep away from the bar.

Penny pursed her lips together, looking meaningfully over at the piano, and a moment later, some Elvis song was playing through the bar. Penny checked in with the girl, pulled some receipt paper out of the printer and had her write down her contact information, in case the police wanted to follow up with her. She waved you down as well, and you came over. 

“Don’t think we’ve met before,” she said brusquely, holding a hand across the bar. “I’m Penny.”

“Nice to meet you,” you said, shaking her extended hand and giving her your name. “You handled that really well.”

Her jaw clenched again, as she shook her head. “Hate that I have to handle it at all. Thanks for saying something; what’re you drinking tonight? It’s on the house.”

“Oh, thanks,” you shook your head, pointing to your abandoned coke, “but I’m not drinking; I have an early day tomorrow.”

Penny hummed, looking you over. You had the uncanny feeling that, even without your uniform, she somehow knew you were Navy, which detachment you were in, and—given another minute or two—she could guess your callsign. 

“Better get your information too,” she said, sliding the receipt paper down the bar, “in case they want a statement from you. Include your CO; I can probably put a good word in edgewise.”

You scribbled your information down, wondering what ties she had to the Navy, but not doubting for a moment that they were strong. Her mouth twitched as she read over what you’d written, blooming into a full smile as she looked up at you.  

“Well, that’ll be easier than I thought,” she said, almost to herself, before walking over to the tap to pour you another coke. “So, what brings you to North Island?”

You chatted with her until the police came and she excused herself to go deal with them. You were finishing your coke when you realized the two pilots were back by the dartboard, the blond one having sunk three bullseyes and performing what appeared to be a victory shimmy.  

He looked like a Ken doll, like someone had manufactured him in a Mattel factory, then turned him to life and told him he could do anything a real boy could do. 

You laughed to yourself at his antics, and watched while the quiet one collected the darts and took his stance for his turn. His first dart landed on double 16—solid, except it couldn’t beat 3 bullseyes.

You’d wanted to thank him for helping out before Penny got there, and this was as good a chance as any, so you hopped off the barstool and crossed towards the darts wall.

“Hey,” you said, inelegant but effective, appearing behind the two of them, turning to look at you in surprise. “May I?”

The blond man made a sound in the back of his throat like he was both shocked and thrilled by your presence, and he nodded like of course you could butt in. You looked over at the quieter one, trying to pretend he wasn’t the most beautiful person you’d seen in your life. 

They’d both looked great from a distance, but up close, he was somehow even prettier, and as you looked at him, the corners of his mouth turned up in a hint of a smile. It was like he liked the weight of your eyes, which was terribly flattering, and you found yourself wanting to smile back. You looked away quickly, back to Ken Doll, thinking about the accent you’d heard in his bragging earlier. 

“Texas?” you asked, to distract yourself.

He raised an eyebrow. “Six generations back.”

You hummed, before holding out a hand to the quiet one. 

“The lady will shoot for her own hand,” Ken Doll said, like he was quoting something, a laugh in his voice as you felt two darts drop into your palm. 

“Pick that up from Medieval Times?” you asked.

“Brave, actually,” he muttered, before smiling sheepishly, “my sister’s kids love that movie.” 

“What do they call you?” you asked, turning the darts over in your hands. It was a guess, but the way his eyebrows raised slightly when he registered the cadence of your question confirmed you were right.

“Hangman,” he said, lifting his chin over your shoulder. “That’s Coyote.”

You looked over at him. “Hey.”

He smiled, slow and easy, and you looked away before you messed up your shot. You focused, let it go, and Coyote whistled. 

“Triple 20,” he said.

“Triple 20,” you agreed, looking back at Hangman. “Want to see it again?”

Hangman’s eyes narrowed as he did the quick mental math, and beside you, Coyote crossed his arms across his chest, laughing quietly. It was a warm sound, and tempted though you were to turn and see it, you let go of the last dart and watched as it landed next to your first. 

“Look at that; Coyote wins,” you wiped your hands on your jeans, smiling at a shocked Hangman.

“Damn,” he said quietly, then grinned. “I like you; you can stay.”

You snorted as he strolled lazily across to the board to pull out the darts, before you turned to look at Coyote, who was watching you already. He had deep brown eyes, eyes that looked kind, like they laughed easy, like they didn’t miss much. 

“Anyways,” you said, apropos of nothing, clearing your throat. “I came over here to say thanks for backing me up at the bar.”

Something like surprise flashed across his face before he could stop it. He shrugged like anyone would’ve done it, like it was nothing special to believe women, to support a stranger the same way he’d supported his friend all evening, and in that moment—before he knew who you were, before you knew his actual name, before you’d spoken more than a dozen words to the man—you fell hard for Javy Machado. 

“Bob, you’re killing me,” Payback groaned, and you jerked out of the memory. Apparently, Fritz’s turn was done, Bob biffed it, and Phoenix lifted her hand in an “after you” gesture as Coyote stepped up to the table. 

He walked slowly, and you tried to be impartial like Callie’d said, but it was damn hard when his shoulders filled out his khakis like that. He walked a slow circle, frowning at the spread and you shifted the pool cue in your own hands, telling yourself to stop staring and continuing to do just that.

“Duckie,” a soft voice called across the room, “if you don’t take the shot already, we’re going to be here all night.” 

Javy dropped the pool cue with a clatter, turning to find the voice. You spotted Jake the same time everybody else did, his chest puffed out proudly as he escorted an older woman on his arm. She wore warm gray senegalese twists, dangling turquoise earrings and a wide smile you’d recognize anywhere.

“Momma?” Javy asked softly, then a grin split his face as he sprinted across the room. His mother opened her arms as Javy rushed into them, carefully bending his tall frame to enfold her, before straightening and spinning her around. Their laughter echoed around the room and a couple claps of applause went up. 

Jake slapped a hand on Javy’s back as he stepped around them, walking over to the pool table to give them a minute together. Phoenix smiled lightly at him, a soft thing that you doubted any of you were meant to see, before she cleared her throat, looking back at you.

“See, this is why we put up with him being an asshole as much as he is,” she told you, shaking her head at Jake. “He’ll leave you out as bait if it gets him a shot at a bandit, but he’ll remember your mother’s birthday, burn his visitor passes, and fly her across the country to surprise you.”

“Take it easy, Nat,” Jake said lightly, resting his knuckles on the pool table and surveying the game’s progress since he’d stepped away. “You’ll ruin my reputation.”

Phoenix shook her head before lining up her next shot, and Jake pushed away from the table to come stand next to where you and Halo were seated on the couch.

You bumped his shoulder with yours as you both looked back across the center, where Javy and his mom were walking arm-and-arm towards your group.

“That was awful sweet of you,” you told him quietly, not wanting to “ruin his reputation” as he put it. 

“The fact that you don’t sound surprised means Phoenix’s lies are taking root,” Jake muttered, but you heard the pride in his voice; he was pleased with himself for pulling this off.

You looked away from the pair over to Jake, who held out a hand for you to hand him his pool cue. You passed it to him, tipping your head, holding onto the other end of it.

“So there was absolutely no altruism involved in reuniting your best friend with his mom?”

“You wound me, Cross,” Jake said drily, but he lifted his chin at Javy’s mother, who was smiling broadly up at her son, her eyes shining as she patted at his uniform proudly. “Give it a sec; let’s see if it pays off.”  

You weren’t sure what that meant, but you felt your expression turn soft at the clear fondness between Javy and his mother; somehow you always knew he’d be a momma’s boy. Her neck was craned at a sharp angle to look up at him, but both of their smiles were wide as they broke into the group. 

“Guys,” Javy said, his voice nearly giddy, “this is my mom. Momma, this is the group. We’ve got Payback, Bob, Phoenix, Fritz—I guess you already know Jake—Halo, and Cross.”

You all smiled and waved as Javy pointed you out to his mother, and her kind eyes followed Javy’s hand around the circle. You thought you might’ve imagined they lingered a little longer on you, but then her smile grew wider as she looked back at Javy. She elbowed him, then looked back at you.

“Now, Javy,” she chided gently, “I know that’s not how you introduce me to your girlfriend.”

The group stilled, and Jake pulled in a deep breath through his nose, his own smile turning decidedly smug as he pushed away from you, taking the cue with him. 

“And there’s your answer, Cross,” he said out of the side of his mouth, going over to the pool table and lining up a shot.

You wet your lips as your eyes darted from Mrs Machado up to Javy. 

His expression was a strange mix of shocked, mortified, and pleading, and you weren’t sure what Jake had done to land the both of you in this predicament, but you knew you weren’t about to spoil this reunion for Javy.

“Mrs. Machado,” you smiled, pushing away from the couch to come and hug her. “I’m so excited to get to meet you.”

Of course, she hugged like an angel. 

She was just a little shorter than you, and she held you like you were something precious she was excited to have in her arms. When you pulled back, her hands settled on your elbows and she beamed up at you. 

“Oh, aren’t you just the loveliest,” she smiled, and her voice sounded like the happiest thing. “You know, I told him, I did, when he started talking about the newest wiz—oh, what is that abbreviation?”

“WSO,” the group chorused.

“WSO,” Mrs. Machado nodded, grateful for the prompt. “Yes, well, when he started talking about you, I asked him if you were a nice young lady, and he insisted that you were just friends, but I just knew, you kept coming up in conversation and, well, I knew it was something more. And then sweet Jacob…”

She broke off to smile kindly at Hangman, and when you looked over your shoulder, Callie and Natasha had cornered him threateningly, but he looked too smug to be intimidated. Under Mrs. Machado’s eyes, they smiled charmingly, but their stance didn’t change. You appreciated them coming to your defense, but it did make you wonder how many people seemed to know about your crush.

“Yeah, sweet Jacob,” Payback deadpanned from the other side of the table, before assuming his role as Resident Adult of the squad. “Mrs. Machado, can we get you something to drink? I know lines at the base access point can be awful, maybe a glass of water?”

“Oh!” Mrs. Machado looked between Reuben and the kitchen, then at you. You smiled reassuringly, pulling your arms free from her. 

“I’ll be here,” you said, then reached over without looking, turning away. “Hey, Jay, can I have a word?”

“Yep, figured,” Javy muttered, as your hand closed on the lapel of his khakis, pulling him after you. 

“You both are doing my push ups after the next of Mav’s drills,” Payback hissed under his breath as your paths crossed.

“Done,” you said quickly.

“For sure,” Javy said, stumbling slightly as he tried to follow your shorter stride as you pulled him to a corner of the Family Center. You figured the group would be watching you so you turned your back to them, pulling Javy to stand in front of you.

“Wait, you’re his backseater,” Javy smoothed down his lapel, frowning over your shoulder in Reuben’s direction. “If he’s doing them, you are too, and 400 pushups isn’t—”

“You’ve got, like, 15 seconds to tell me why your mom thinks I’m your girlfriend.”

You probably could’ve handled it with more finesse, or at least not interrupted him. 

Javy’s hand came up to rub the back of his neck; if you didn’t know better, you’d say he was nervous, but there’s no way that was real, so you just waited on his explanation. 

“Okay, so she means well, my mom, but every time we talked, she’d be asking about if I’d met a nice girl, or telling me how one of her friends had a kid in town, that I should meet up with or—”

“15 seconds,” you reiterated, trusting in Reuben’s vamping ability, but the man was only mortal. 

“Right,” Javy swallowed. “Uh, so it’s just…one day she was just going on and on, and I said I’d asked someone out, and she wanted to know who and you were the first person I thought of.”

You blinked.

“Not like that, not like I’d planned on asking you out or something,” Javy rushed to say, which shouldn’t have stung as much as it did, but damn. He must���ve realized how that sounded, too, because he winced. “I mean, not like that, it was just the easiest lie that she’d believe and she was never supposed to be here and meet you and—”

You crossed your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing as you looked up at him. “How do you think this is going?”

“Yeah, not great,” Javy mumbled, his hand falling to his side.

“Awesome,” you muttered. “So now that we’ve established how it’s just a matter of me being the easiest lie, you didn’t want her to meet me, and you wouldn’t actually ask me out—”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Javy said stubbornly, even though it was what he’d just said. He looked frustrated, and you couldn’t tell if it was towards your reaction or something else but when he opened his mouth, the words got stuck, because he just sighed.

Javy drew in a deep breath, looking over your shoulder. You knew when his eyes landed on his mom, because his whole face softened, and his shoulders drooped slightly. 

“Tell me this,” you said, weighing your words carefully, “is this for her or for you?”

“For her,” he said, with conviction, and when he looked back at you, your heart skipped a beat at the look in his eyes. It was honest and deep, something selfless and that scared him too, and you believed him. 

“She gets worried about me,” he explained. “What she and my dad have is special…when me or my siblings don’t have that, she gets worried. Like, it’s something she prays for. I know she’s proud of me and my career and all that, but I think a part of her will always think something’s missing, unless I’m with someone.”

You looked over your shoulder to find Mrs. Machado in the kitchen, smiling happily at Rueben as he made her some tea. She had this aura of comfort around her, that of being loved and known, and wanting it for everyone around her. It wasn’t an energy you were super familiar with, but you could understand that it would be heavy for someone like Javy to bear.

And this was a terrible idea—you were gonna embarrass yourself at the least, potentially break your own heart at the worst—but you couldn’t say no.

“Okay,” you sighed. “So, how do we do this?”

Javy’s eyes closed for a moment in relief, and for a second you thought he was going to reach for you, but then he held himself steady, his hands clenching at his sides.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. 

You nodded, already regretting this, knowing if you could do it again, you’d choose the same result, every time.

“Yeah,” you said, rubbing at your temples briefly before looking back up at him. “Um, I guess, how much do you want me around? I’m sure you guys want time for just the two of you.”

Javy seemed to think it over. “I’ll probably take her to dinner tonight—she’ll invite you, but I think we can get you out of it. If…do you want to do breakfast tomorrow?”

Somewhere a trickster god was chortling, thrilled by Javy asking a question you’d never expected to hear, and in an entirely different context.

“I can do breakfast,” you said. 

“Great,” Javy said, a full smile growing. “God, thank you. Great.” 

And somewhere that same trickster god rolled their eyes, because you were a simpleton who’d do any number of ridiculous things to see that smile again. 

Javy squeezed your shoulder lightly, moving to go around you before stopping himself and stepping back.  

“You’ve never called me ‘Jay’ before,” he said, his expression curious.

And you hadn’t, never aloud. But in your texts to your girlfriends back home, you referred to him by his initial, just in case someone ever stole your phone.

“Yeah, well," you deferred, "Duckie was taken, so…”

Javy’s nose wrinkled as he tried not to laugh, and there it was, that smile again.  

“I had a stuffed duck, when I was a kid,” he explained. “Took it everywhere with me, like some kids have their blankets…Momma always told me she loved me like I loved that duck, and it kind of stuck.”

“That’s adorable,” you said, honest. 

Javy waved a hand, like it wasn’t anything, and then he looked back at you.

“I like it,” he said, something different in his voice. “Jay.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that, so you pressed your lips together and shrugged. Javy looked at you for a moment, then he tilted his head towards the group. You turned with him, following him back to the group, telling yourself it was going to be fine. 

Of course, that was until Mrs. Machado insisted that they drive you home. 

Thankfully, you were able to convince her to take the passenger seat, so as Mrs. Machado and Javy talked quietly, the soft music on the speakers kept their conversation from reaching you in the backseat. You leaned your head against the glass of the window, trying to recall the cross streets from memory, rather than think too hard about any part of tonight. The car was in park for a minute before you realized it was idling in front of your apartment. 

“Oh, sorry,” you said quickly, sliding off your seatbelt and leaning forward to brush Mrs. Machado’s shoulder lightly, “it was so great to meet you. Thanks for driving me home.”

“Of course,” she beamed over her shoulder at you, reaching back to catch your hand in hers, and squeezing. “I’m so glad we’ll get to visit more tomorrow.”

You smiled back, then let go of her, sliding down to the seat to the door. As you unfolded yourself out of the backseat, Javy’s hand appeared on the car door, holding it open for you as you climbed out. He shut it behind you, walking beside you towards the door of your apartment. 

You looked up at him out of the side of your eye. 

People shouldn’t be pretty from this angle but he was. The moonlight seemed to highlight his long lashes, and the soft shadow they cast over his face.  

“You don’t have to walk me,” you said under your breath, once you were out of hearing range of the car. 

“Nah,” Javy said, his voice lower rather than quieter. “Momma knows I’d walk my girl to the door.”

It wasn’t a long walk up the driveway, but you seemed aware of every step. Or maybe the world just froze when Javy said my girl. 

You glanced over at him again, admiring the way he looked perfectly at ease, his hands tucked into his pockets, steps slow to match your pace. You thought about how sweet his mother was, how excited she’d been at the prospect of spending time with you tomorrow. She was probably watching from the car now, and it did somewhat soothe the guilt in your chest, knowing that someone else had set a precedent for her, and she wouldn’t be too disappointed when her son calmly told her you had broken up.

“That’s good that she’s met others,” you said, climbing the first step to your porch, “it’s less intimidating to know I just have to be an average.”

Javy made a soft sound, something between a hum and an exhale, shoulders rising slightly in a shrug. “Actually, you’re the first since the Academy.”   

You stopped on the step, turning to find Javy watching you closely. With the added height, the two of you were almost eye level, and your stomach flipped. His brown eyes seemed to glitter, something soft like starlight in them.

“But you said…” you trailed off, realizing Javy had said it was how he would be, not how he’d been. “Literally how is that possible?” 

Javy smiled easily, looking back at the car, then back at you as he lifted his chin. “I’m gonna take that as a compliment.”

You smiled back, you couldn’t not, even as you shook your head, despite the heat crawling up your neck because you didn’t realize you’d said that out loud. He was too bright to leave you unaffected, so you stood there on the step, smiling like a fool at a man who somehow had no idea how much of a marvel he was.

Which is when you realized you were staring again.

“Well,” you said, looking away, taking another step up the porch, “thanks again for the ride home. And walking me up here, and I guess…I’m gonna go inside.”

“Oh,” Javy said it quietly, like he hadn’t meant to, like you’d surprised him. He nodded, and you waited for him to say something else, as he looked over his shoulder at the car, but then his easy smile was back again. “Yeah, no worries. Actually, thank you, right?”

You were pretty sure the moonlight was playing tricks on you. 

Because there was something in Javy’s expression that you hadn’t seen before, something that looked like uncertainty, something almost like wondering. The extra step put you almost taller than him, your faces closer than you’d expected. Javy blinked slowly, his gaze darting down to your mouth before he stepped back a half pace, like he’d remembered something. 

It had to be the moonlight, or you were seeing things.

But you were the first person that’d come to mind when he’d needed a lie, and that had to count for something, right, and he’d looked for a moment like he was trying to think of a reason to keep you on the porch.

You reached for him, your fingers curling around the back of his neck and the slightest pull was enough for him to take back that half step, then more, closer, which was enough for you to know it wasn’t just the moon, and you kissed him.

Or you meant to.

The moment your lips brushed against his, Javy’s hands were on your waist, his long fingers spreading across your lower back, his body heat seemingly burning through the thin fabric of your shirt, like he needed to hold onto you. And then you weren’t kissing him, because he was kissing you, something that you couldn’t quite believe was happening. It was slow and soft and absolutely devastating, as unrealistically perfect as only Javy could be.

And then it was over, just as quickly as it had happened.

Javy’s lips lifted from yours, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth before he pulled back entirely. Still two steps down, you liked how he looked, looking up at you.

“I’ll wait till you get inside,” Javy asked softly, his voice like velvet, and you nodded, very uncertain if you could find words. You rested a hand on his shoulder to lean down to wave at the car, and Mrs. Machado, who was practically beaming back at you, before letting go and walking up to unlock the door. You let yourself in, turning just inside the frame to find Javy still watching you.

“Night, Jay,” you said. 

Javy’s lips parted at the nickname, then he smiled at you, bright as the noonday sun. 

“Night, Cross,” he said. His hands were in his pockets and he took a step back from you, waiting for you to shut the door. You did, leaning your back up against it, and waited for the sounds of the car starting and them driving away. 

Now, what the hell had that been about? And, more importantly, how were you supposed to survive tomorrow?

//

next chapter

taglist: @peakyrogers @mxgyver @princessphilly @hangmanbrainrot @wildbornsiren @roosterforme @blowmymbackout @datemephoenix @fuckyeahhangman @lt-bradshaw @double-j @callsignvalley @sebsxphia @javihoney @jadore-andor @rosiahills22 @andrewrussgarfield @teacupsandtopgun i don't have a coyote list yet bc this is my first writing for him, so if any of you folks would like to be not included, please do let me know!

[laracrofted]

❝ strike a match, watch it blow

synopsis: after a bitter break-up with your long-time partner – both in life and missions – somehow, you keep ending up on the same assignments as him. you must have some of the worst luck in the world – or maybe, some of the best.

pairing: agent!javy machado x fem!reader

general warnings: minors and ageless accounts dni (18+), mission impossible au, explicit smut, explicit language, see individual posts for specific warnings.

one shots

coming soon!

drabbles and blurbs

coming soon!

extras

agent degas x false god (mission: impossible dead reckoning) search the tag

anything marked with ⊹ contains smut

[ohtobeleah]

"Your child's been kicking me all day." "Oh, so now it's my child?" With Javy?? #PL3

"Your child's been kicking me all day." It had felt like such a long day, but in reality it was just the fact you were eight months pregnant with Javy Machados big ass baby boy. 

Javy had been so excited for this day for so long now that it was hard not to be excited too—but today? Today your unborn child had decided that they were going to use your internal organs as boxing bags. As you trailed beside Javy—he sympathetically squeezed your hand, bringing it up to his lips slowly as you walked around the car lot. 

"Oh, so now it's my child?" Javy teased as he walked with you, swinging your hand dramatically as you rubbed your baby bump with your other. “It’s only ever my child when he’s flipping around in there.” 

You couldn’t help but to laugh as you looked around at the brand new cars that littered the car dealership. It was and would probably be the only time in your life that you and Javy would be able to afford a brand new car. 

“Who else’s baby would it be?” You teased. “Because he isn’t mine, I wouldn’t ever disrespect my mama like this.” 

“He is 100% yours—“ Javy laughed along with you. You couldn’t have been more excited to become parents. “Wait—“ Javy paused as you both entered the building. “Is this our wedding song?”

You had to stop and listen hard to the music playing softly from the speakers above you on the roof. The subtle acoustics of A Thousand Years by Christina Perri had you immediately tearing up as you cupped your hand over your mouth and turned to your husband. 

“God don’t make no mistakes baby.” Javy chuckled as he wrapped his arms arounds your shoulders and drew you in as close as he could for a hug. “How crazy is that?” 

“This song never plays on the radio?” You added as you listened. “I’ve never heard this play on the radio since we got married, or even just on my phone for that matter.” 

“It’s gotta be a sign hey?” Javy cooed as he kissed your forehead. “Brand new car for our brand new family.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**

Leah’s 4k celebration 🎊

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Ridin’ The Waves 🏄‍♀️ | Javy “Coyote” Machado Imagine

Takes place before, during and after the events of TGM

TGM masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Javy “Coyote” Machado x pro surfer!reader (romantic), dagger squad (platonic)

Content Warnings: fluff, profanity, pop culture references, details of the 2020 Tokyo Olympics | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 9.1k

Requested 📨 yes/no (for @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby)

Premise: From the moment she could walk Y/n L/n belonged to the sea. Riding the waves that started as a hobby, only to lead her to the world’s greatest sporting stage. It would take time before her dream of Olympic Gold would happen as surfing had yet to be recognized by the IOC. But in her pursuit of becoming the greatest female surfer of all time, Y/n found who she believed was the closest person to paradise.

Note: I gotta say writing athlete/Olympian!reader imagines with the dagger squad are truly some of my favorite. Gosh I cannot wait for next year because that means…..2024 Olympics 👀 Guys I’m almost done with my semester! I have less than two weeks and all i have left to do is a paper and final project !! Almost to the finish thank goodness and then I move in with my friend before starting my summer job! Hope y’all enjoyed this work and let me know what you think!

Be sure to watch the video I linked during the Rock’s segment. I didn’t make it up it actually was a segment during the opening ceremonies on NBC’s coverage.

————————

“Is this heaven?” He laid on the surfboard beside her, feet in the water with the warmth of the sun hit his back. A cool breeze was starting to set in as the most beautiful sunset was before him, painting the sky an endless murrel of pink and orange. Only the subtle echo of the low tide filled his ears. Javy pressed his cheek onto the board, finding her smile which made his own appear at her words.

“More like paradise.”

Everyone had their own definition of paradise. Maybe it was the quiet plains of Montana or the mountains of Appalachia. Maybe it was strolling down the streets of Paris with the Eiffel Tower in the distance. Rain pouring down on New York City with a steaming cup of tea in hand or driving down the Pacific Coast Highway with “California Love” blasting through the radio. Reading a book by the fire next to their soulmate, dancing with strangers at a concert. Ask anyone what they viewed as their own personal paradise and the responses will vary.

Y/n L/n felt she was in paradise almost everyday of her life. Waking up to the view of the ocean while birds flew overhead. Feet hitting the sand as she ran to the waters with her board, anxiously waiting to ride the waves. Salt water coating skin and hair, sun beaming down.

Paradise.

From the moment she could walk the beach became her second home. Having grown up on the island of O’ahu Y/n learned how to surf before riding a bike. Her parents surfed. As did her siblings. Getting an instructor wasn’t needed with a family who knew everything there was about the art of surfing. Y/n received her first board at age four, and from then on her life was devoted to the water. Owning more swimsuits than t-shirts and shorts by the time she reached fifth grade.

She was a natural at best. Always predicting when and where the best waves would be. Timing the push up so perfect others—even her family—were unable to keep up.

“C’mon, leave some for the rest of us,” her brother would groan, missing a wave due to her swooping in at the last second. Y/n only laughed in return.

“Gotta be faster than that.”

Her parents, surfers themselves, were basically her coaches. On weekends they were waking her up at the crack of dawn, breakfast on the counter and telling her to be on the beach when she was done. Then of course she had to apply sunscreen, the substance coating every inch of her skin. Once on the beach a thirty minute run and stretching was mandatory before she could get in the water.

Skipping such a step would have her sore all night.

“We’re gonna work on your 360, cutback, and tube ride before finishing the day with cleaning up your alley oop.”

“If I don’t make a lot of mistakes can we watch Lilo & Stitch after dinner?”

“Yes, that is a fair deal.”

Mistakes? What are those? Mistakes weren’t in Y/n’s nature and if they occurred it was a rare sighting. Only time Y/n ever did mess up on a maneuver was when she was first learning it. Once she had it down it was impossible to lose.

All the friends she made loved going to the beaches after school and on weekends—getting all their homework done during the school hours so their entire afternoon was free. They signed up for competitions together, Y/n entering her first at age 14 for the 2004 Juniors season after competitions in regionals since age 11. “You’re gonna win the comp, Y/n.”

“Oh stop playing,” she brushed her best friend off, only to hear the murmurs of agreement from the rest of the group.

“I’m serious! You catch the best waves and ride them perfectly. Those judges are gonna be amazed on Saturday—I bet you’ll even get a sponsor.”

Her best friend was right. Not only did Rip Curl—THE Rip Curl want Y/n to be the face of their new campaign, but the surfing world would know her name for generations to come.

“Welcome back to our coverage of the 2004 ISA World Junior Surf Championship here in beautiful O’ahu, Hawaii here on ESPN. We’re dwindling down on the final competition with the defending champion from last year's event, sixteen-year-old Carolina Kanoa, and newcomer, Y/n L/n. If you’ve been watching the competition then you know all eyes have been on the fourteen-year-old native of Kapolei here on O’ahu, who scored the highest in her heats and received all tens in the quarterfinals after a perfect run.”

“It was quite the sight, Tom. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so effortless in this competition. Y/n’s delivered a captivating performance each wave she’s catched—always getting the first one in her heats and pulling out a big score putting her high on the leaderboard. I wouldn’t be surprised if we see her on top of the podium today.”

“For anyone watching at home who are new to surfing or just want a little refresh on the scoring system, here is how it works: a panel of five judges determine a score one through ten, ten being the best, for each surfer on their wave based on degree of difficulty, innovative maneuvers, combination of major maneuvers, the variety of said maneuvers, and the speed, power, and flow. The highest and lowest score are thrown out leaving the remaining three, which are then averaged out. Now a surfer can catch as many waves as they please but only the two highest scoring waves will be added together to give the total score for that heat. From there competitors are eliminated until there are two finalists.”

Treading water, Y/n paid close attention to the scene in front of her. With only three minutes left on the clock, she was one wave away from crowning herself the Junior World Champion.

“Give me a sign,” she breathed in the salty air. Her thoughts were answered seconds later by a chill running down her neck, gaze snapping to the left where she saw the water draw back. Springing into action, Y/n paddled towards the forming wave, timing it at the perfect moment to end the competition on a bang. She heard the crowd cheer when she stood up, increasing each maneuver she did until finally riding out the end of the wave right as the bullhorn sounded.

Her heart pounded, “Did I just win?” Damn sure she did. Nothing could describe the feeling of holding the championship trophy at the top of the podium. And what made it ten times better, an ambassador of Rip Curl offered her a sponsorship. Before long Y/n’s name and face were plastered across all their campaigns. After winning the ISA Junior World Championships three years in a row—making her a household name in surfing—Y/n went on to senior international competitions. From there her glory only skyrocketed.

ISA World Surfing Games, World Surf League, Rip Curl Pro, Big Wave Tour, Vans Triple Crown of Surfing. Y/n’s little shelf of trophies turned into a full length china cabinet. Traveling back and forth from O’ahu to America. Sometimes even going to South America and Japan for international comps. By age 19 she had created her own maneuver earning her even more attention due to the level of difficulty.

“I don’t see what the fuss is about?” She chewed on a piece of spam, leaning her elbows on the kitchen counter. “All I did was add a couple of extra spins on my aerial.” Her mother gave her a bewildered look.

“That move in itself is difficult, Y/n. Not many perform it in competition and the fact you successfully landed one—with your little spoof nonetheless, people are gonna be amazed.”

“Well, I guess I just got lucky.”

Following high school Y/n turned professional and moved to Honolulu to attend the University of Hawai’i at Mānoa where she studied sports management with a minor in sports science. A family friend had an old Volkswagen Type 2 and Y/n was happy to take it off their hands, fixing it up to have the perfect beach van. Once classes were done for the day Y/n was packing it up with her board, cooler, boombox, and her closest friends.

“You sure this thing isn’t gonna break down on us?”

“Don’t insult Sandy. She’s as good as new,” okay that was a stretch, the van was literally 60 years old, “and I filled her up on gas this morning so we shouldn’t find ourselves on the side of the road.”

“Thanks for the confidence, Y/n. Much appreciated.”

It wasn’t uncommon for people to recognize her on campus. Having generated a public image in surfing—which many of her peers were also involved in—meant she was bound to hear, “Hey, you’re Y/n L/n?” “Oh my gosh I’ve been watching you compete since you were a junior competitor.” “Congrats on winning the Pro this year.”

There were times professors kindly asked, “Can you sign this for my kid? They’ve been into surfing lately and you’re their favorite athlete.” Taking photos with supporters happened occasionally as did giving advice to those wanting to get into surfing. It was a nice feeling for the woman to be able to inspire people and share the sport she loved.

Expanding the art of surfing to the world.

Four years of college seemed to fly by fast. Y/n was surprised she managed to pull through with a 3.6 GPA and graduate Cum Laude with everything in her life. A lot of the competitions were during the school year so Y/n had lots of work on her plate—thankfully some instructors were reasonable and allowed her to get an advance on the material. But she completed her degree with immense relief, aiming to get a career in sports going either by becoming a trainer or manager following her retirement from surfing.

“Y/n, It’s so great to see you again this year at the World Surf League World Championship. You recently graduated from the University of Hawai’i, you’re set to compete in today’s finals to defend your title—how many would this be for you? Number seven?”

Y/n chuckled with the reporter, brushing away a stray piece of hair. “Lucky number seven, yes. I’m so happy and grateful to be competing today—excited to hit the water and try to catch the best waves possible. Regardless of the outcome today I’m just really happy to be here again. I always look forward to this time of year—being able to compete and after working so hard in school this last semester, it’s definitely a relief to not have to worry about finishing a paper last minute once this comp ends.”

“There’s been recent talk of surfing possibly becoming an Olympic sport after much demand following the London Games this year. What are your thoughts? Do you think it’ll be featured in Rio and if so are you going to try and make the team?”

Since becoming a professional sport in 1959 following the first West Coast Surfing Championship in Huntington Beach, California, surfing had yet to reach the greatest sporting stage. The Olympic Games. Held every four years where thousands of athletes from around the globe come together to compete for the chance at gold. Duke Kahanamoku, the father of modern surfing and three-time Olympic freestyle swimming champion having won gold at the 1912 and 1920 Games respectively, first advocated the sport to be in the Olympics back in 1920. Had it not been for him, surfing may not have become as popular in the world as it was.

When it came to the Olympics, Y/n loved sitting by the tv to watch Team USA. Witnessing historic moments and record breaking finishes she was in awe of every athlete who came across the screen. Swimming, diving, track, gymnastics, soccer. So many sports events in a single fortnight. She hoped surfing would become an official sport in the Games. For she too had dreams of an Olympic gold around her neck.

Pausing for a moment, Y/n smiled at the thought of her becoming an Olympic Champion, “I think a lot of us can agree that we’d like to see surfing become part of the Olympic family. It’s one of the oldest sports and has its own professional circuit for decades now—I mean we’ve got people here today from Japan, Italy, El Salvador and Australia. Why not include it? And you can definitely expect me to be training the moment it is.”

It would be four years before Y/n could make do with that promise. On August 3, 2016, two days prior to the opening ceremonies of the Games of the XXXI Olympiad, the IOC announced surfing would finally be an Olympic sport.

“Exciting news for the surfing world,” the headline appeared on the screen of ESPN’s afternoon coverage, “the International Olympic Committee has just confirmed the sport will be introduced for the first time in its history at the Tokyo Olympics taking place in 2020–marking 100 years since surfing legend Duke Kahanamoku first started advocating for it to be featured. Professional surfing isn’t new to international competition having debuted at Huntington Beach, California in 1959. Since then there’s been several meets featuring surfers from all over the world—the most recent being the 2016 Rip Curl Pro where ten-time World Surf League champion Y/n L/n claimed the title once again for the fifth time since her senior international debut in 2007. L/n is just one of many professional surfers who’ve advocated for surfing to be in the Olympics over the years and expressed interest in competing for a chance at gold. With the confirmation by the IOC this morning, I’d say we’ll be seeing her at the trials in four years.”

The morning after the announcement Y/n headed to the beach to find her father propping her board into the sound. “So four years, huh?” Y/n crossed her arms over her chest, feeling the wind breeze past them.

“Seems like a long way, but it’ll be around the corner before we know it.”

“We better get started then.”

Morning, afternoon, evening. Every day Y/n was on the water catching waves left and right. Perfecting maneuvers, getting air in her aerials. When taking breaks she’d go on runs and to the gym. She still participated in yearly competitions and surfed with her friends, but her training habits became more intense as she prepped for Tokyo. When she wasn’t sleeping, eating, or competing she was on the water.

By 2019 Y/n had accumulated the most titles won by a female surfer with ten ISA World Surfing Games—formerly the World Surfing Championships, ten Rip Curl Pro trophies, five QuickSilver pro Gold Coast, five-time triple crown winner, and the 2016 champion of The Eddie Aikua Big Wave International. Winning The Eddie and becoming the first woman in history to do so after the event returned from a seven-year hiatus had Y/n on the front page of several sports magazines around the world. It was a huge accomplishment. Pushing Y/n as the favorite to win gold in Tokyo.

Towards the later end of the year, October in fact, Y/n found herself on the sunny beaches of San Diego, California. August to November were the best months to surf in the area, being it was late summer going into fall where the heat wasn’t excruciating. Still one had to wear a wetsuit to even touch the water.

Y/n was in town to visit an old friend from college and to help the Pacific Beach Surf Club with their beach cleanups and participate in a charity competition. Having traveled in San Diego a few times she was no stranger to the club and welcomed with open arms. Volunteering in their cleanups was the least she could do to prepare the beach for the charity event.

When they finished they all changed out of their clothes into wetsuits, wasting no time to hit the waves. “Hey!” Her friend yelled from where she was treading water, tone teasing, “be sure to leave some for the rest of us, yeah?” Y/n threw her head back in laughter.

“I make no promises!”

Anytime Y/n surfed out of training or competition she felt so free. No pressure to be perfect. No shouting from her father. No commentary from the sportscasters or questions from reporters. Only her, her board, and the beautiful sea.

She cheered on her friend and the people in their cleanup group when they caught waves. Complimenting them whenever they did a cool trick. In return they whistled and hollered for her. They soon developed an audience from the shore. Children and adults alike stop to watch them in awe. Instantly drawn to Y/n who glided effortlessly, guiding her board into a tube ride.

Unbeknownst to the surfer, a group of navy pilots had stopped their game of dogfight football to observe the show.

Jake whistled, “Damn she’s good.” Mickey agreed.

“I don’t think I’ve seen someone surf like that. She’s a natural.”

“Probably has been doing it for years,” Bradley commented, fixing his aviators. Natasha and Bob hummed in agreement.

“I think I’m in love,” Javy breathed out, simply in awe of what he was witnessing. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen showcasing talent on a board he could only dream of possessing.

He wondered what her laugh sounded like, seeing her head tilt back at something her friend said. Even from the distance her smile was breathtaking. Hair pulled back into a tight bun, body adored in a wetsuit to combat the cool water. A cheeky smirk thrown at her peers when she started paddling toward a forming wave. Standing on the board like a pro and making all kinds of turns and tricks Javy knew he’d wipe out the second he attempted them. Speaking of wiping out, she hadn’t done it once.

Jake nudging him from the side snapped him out of his daydream, “Go talk to her.” At the nod of his head, Javy realized she was running across the sand, stopping when she got to an area of coolers, towels, and backpacks.

“No!” He hissed, eyes reading, ‘are you crazy?’

“Why not? Just go up and start complimenting her. Ask her how long she’s been surfing. That’ll start a conversation.”

Javy scoffed, “Easy for you to say, Mr. Ken Barbie Doll who doesn’t need a confidence boost when talking to women.” Jake went to rebuttals but the sound of Reuben coughing stopped him.

“Uh guys….” He lifted a finger, their gazes following to find a family of four approaching the young woman. They couldn’t hear what was being said, but seeing her take a notepad from the little girl before scribbling in what appeared to be an autograph followed by the father snapping a photo with his phone, it was enough to conclude she was someone.

“Are…is she signing autographs?” Javy wondered aloud. He watched her sign the little boy's boogie board, posing for a photo with him before kneeling down to be on both the children’s level and smile for the camera. Hell even the parents wanted a photo, one of her friends coming over to hold the phone while they positioned themselves on either side. Then finally the whole family had a group one, saying their goodbyes and thank you’s to the woman who waved as they left.

“So she’s kinda famous,” Bradley said the obvious, everyone in a daze. Probably trying to figure out who the woman was, as none had recognized her as an actress or singer.

While they were busy investigating, Y/n unzipped her wetsuit leaving her bikini underneath and pulled on shorts with a graphic t-shirt overtop. “What are you guys doing after this?”

“We’re gonna grab some drinks at The Hard Deck. You down?”

“The Hard Deck?” She repeated with a tilt of the head. Never had she heard of the place.

“It’s that bar over there,” Y/n turned to the direction her friend was nodding at, eyes landing on a building not far from where they stood. “Great vibes, but I must warn ya it’s always filled with Navy fellas.” Y/n perked up slightly. Having lived on O’ahu all her life she was familiar with Navy personnel. After all, Pearl Harbor was located just on the coast of the island.

“Really?”

“Yeah, Miramar is not too far from here. It’s where the pilots train so expect to see some in flight suits.”

At around 6 the group packed it up and headed for the bar. Upon entry Y/n saw exactly what her friend had warned. The place was buzzing. Servicemen and women on every corner, music blasting from the jukebox. They approached the bar top to order a round of beers before settling over by the high top tables, splitting the group up since there were about eight of them.

“Check it out, Machado,” Payback clapped his friend’s back, making him turn to where his attention was. Javy’s eyes widened upon seeing the surfer.

“Did they just get here?”

“Looked like it. You should talk to her—especially since this is the second sighting in mere hours.” The pilot rolled his eyes.

“I don’t wanna come off as a creep, Fitch. What am I supposed to say ‘Hey, sorry if this is weird but I saw you surfing earlier—can I buy you a drink?’ She might throw me to the sharks.”

Natasha shook her head, “men.” A moment later Penny arrived with a tray of beers, placing them down on the seat beside Bob where the guys were shooting pool, “delivery for my favorite dagger squad.”

Thanks were sent her way followed by Jake asking, “Say Pen, you know those guys?” The bartender glanced over her shoulder to see who he was referring to, nodding with a smile.

“Oh that’s some members of the Pacific Beach Surf Club. They were cleaning up the beach earlier for tomorrow's charity competition. Expect the place to be packed if you drop by, it’s always a madhouse. This year they’ve got some of the best surfers participating.”

“Do you know if she’s one of them,” Javy tried to act cool when pointing out the woman.

Upon Penny’s smirk, the answer was clear, “Unless my eyes are deceiving me, I believe that’s ten-time world surfing champion Y/n L/n.”

“Ten?!” Mickey repeated, “Holy shit.” Around him the others were matching his expression. Javy immediately grabbed his phone to type in the name. Sure enough the image of the woman seated at the table appeared on his screen. Clicking on the Wikipedia page he started to read aloud for the group the opening paragraph.

“Y/n M/n L/n, born y/b/m yb/d, 1990 is an American professional surfer from Kapolei, O’ahu, Hawaii and a ten-time World Surf League Women’s World champion, the most titles won by any female surfer to date. L/n made her debut at the World Surf League Junior Championships at age 14 in 2004 in her native O’ahu, winning three consecutive times before turning to senior international competition where she’s won a total of forty world titles—including becoming a five-time triple crown winner. As of 2016, L/n is the defending champion and first women to win the Eddie Aikau Big Wave Invitational. She is set to compete at the first ever U.S Olympic Trials in hopes of making the Tokyo Olympic Team where surfing will make its debut at the Olympics.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” Jake peered over Javy’s shoulder, watching him scroll down to view Y/n’s career statistics. Mickey appeared on the opposite side, whistling under his breath. Natasha took out her own phone to search herself, Bradley, Bob, and Payback all glancing over to see.

“She’s literally called the greatest surfer of this generation,” Bradley pointed out. “Talk about intimidating.”

“Now you gotta buy her a drink, Machado,” Payback concluded, igniting another glare from his friend. “Say you pulled an Olympian.”

“I’ll take it to her,” Penny offered, and before Javy could stop her the woman was back behind the bar. They watched her take a Corona from the cooler, add a lime and proceed to the table the athlete was at. “From the gentlemen by the pool tables,” Penny smiled at Y/n, nodding to the group, “the one the blonde is pointing at.” Turning her head, Y/n saw the guy in question pushing his friend’s hand down, a reddish hue on his cheeks when they made eye contact followed by a wave.

‘Well hello there,’ she thought, smiling at the handsome man. He was in a pair of basketball shorts and t-shirt reading NAVY in bold letters. The group he was with all scattered to make it look like they weren’t eavesdropping when Y/n approached, Corona in hand, “Hi.”

“Hello,” even his voice was attractive. Everything about him was. From his clear smooth skin to his dazzling smile. Toned arms and legs.

“Thanks for the beer.”

“Anytime,” he tipped the one in his hand, Y/n clicking hers against it. “Sorry if this is weird at all. I saw you surfing earlier and was trying to muster up the courage to come talk to you….but couldn’t find the words to say.”

Y/n smirked, gesturing to an empty pool table, “how about a game? Maybe it’ll help loosen your nerves.” Moving to a cue Y/n sees his grin widen, “I’m Y/n by the way.”

“I’m Javy, but you can call me Coyote.”

“Coyote?” She repeats with a chuckle, “That’s an interesting nickname.”

“Callsign actually,” he politely corrects before explaining he was a naval aviator. Grabbing his own cue while she sets up the rack, he added, “Wasn’t my doing.”

“Then how’d you get it?”

“Um…” he made a face, as though he was embarrassed to say. “I’ll tell you if you win this match.” A sound between a scoff and a laugh escaped her.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be.” Javy raises his hands in defense, laughing with her. “And if you win?”

His own smirk appears, “You give me your phone number…maybe even let me take you out.” Biting back a grin and fighting the warm feeling in her chest, Y/n removes the rack leaving the pool balls neatly centered.

“Challenge accepted, Coyote.”

It was safe to say both came out as winners that night. Though Y/n won the game and got the scoop on Javy’s callsign origin, he walked away with her number and plans to have dinner the following night after her charity event. Javy made the promise to come out and watch her surf, excited to see her in action. Hearing Y/n talk about the sport and her accomplishments was even cooler in person than reading it off the internet. From her amateur days to becoming a full blown professional. Winning countless championship titles, being the first woman to win The Eddie and her dream to win gold at the Olympics.

Javy was smitten.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” She smiled when they reached her van at the end of the night. They talked for hours to the point they lost track of time. It was 11 o’clock and she had to be up at five.

“You said it starts at noon?” At her nod Javy continued, “I’ll be there. And I look forward to our dinner plans after.” Y/n felt the heat rise, hoping it wasn’t displaying on her face.

“Me too. Thank you for a fun night, Javy,” feeling bold, Y/n leans to place a kiss on his cheek. The action leaves him stunned, smile growing bigger as she pulls away. “See you on the beach.”

Now Javy had loved the beach before meeting Y/n. But his love for it and the ocean only grew the moment he watched her ride the waves. Cheering from the sand as she dropped down and glided the tide with ease. It made him want to stay there forever.

He understood quickly why she was regarded as the greatest female surfer of all time. Yeah it was a charity competition and not a world championship, but Y/n treated the waves no differently. She was a beast. Total control of her board, little to no mistakes.

Their dinner date was filled with laughter, flirty sarcasm, stories so outrageous one would think they were bluffing. Javy spoke of his time at Top Gun and his friendship with Jake. Y/n told him about her college days. Both engaged in conversations about dreams and aspirations. Yeah they had their dream careers, but one can always dream bigger. Dream about friendship, dream about love.

Dream about the future.

When the night came to an end, Y/n laid her head on the pillow with a smile on her face, “I think this might be paradise.”

23 July 2021–The Hard Deck, San Diego California.

“It’s almost time for USA!” Javy hushes everyone, grabbing the remote to increase the volume. The place was packed mostly with the squad's friends, colleagues, the Pacific Beach Surf Club, and college students from UC San Diego. Togethery they were gathered to watch the opening ceremonies of the 2020 Tokyo Olympics.

The Tokyo Olympics.

Finally after a whole year of waiting the Games were finally being held. A global pandemic sure would be the only thing to stop the most iconic two-week sporting event in the world.

And Javy’s girlfriend, 12x World champion Y/n L/n, was there to be part of surfing's Olympic debut. Gold on her mind.

The two had been long distance the majority of their relationship, but FaceTimed nearly every day with promises to visit as soon as restrictions were lifted. Y/n traveled to San Diego in the winter of 2020 to mark the couple’s one year anniversary. Then Javy flew to Hawaii in the spring, spending two weeks in Kapolei where most time was spent surfing and late night drive on the beach.

“There’s no place I’d rather be,” he sang at the top of his lungs, windows rolled down .

“Than on my surfboard out at sea,” Y/n followed, smile wide on her face with her hair blowing in the wind.

“Lingering in the ocean blue.”

“And if I had one wish come true.”

Together they sang, “I’d surf ‘til the sun sets beyond the horizon!”

Y/n tilted her head back, “‘Āwikiwiki, mai lohilohi. Lawe mai i ko papa he’e nalu.”

Belting out together once again, their voices echoed in the night, “Flying by on the Hawaiian roller coaster ride!!”

“‘Āwikiwiki, mai lohilohi. Lawe mai i ko papa he’e nalu.”

“Pi’i nā nalu lā lahalaha. ‘O ka Moana hānupanupa.”

“Lalala i ka lā hanahana. Me ke kai hoene i ka pu’e one.”

“Heel, hele mai kākou ē.”

“Hawaiian roller coaster ride!”

During the Olympic surf qualifying event in Huntington Beach the whole squad was in attendance to cheer Y/n on. Javy embraced her in tears, lifting her onto his shoulders to the hollars and whistles of their friends and family.

Y/n was officially an Olympian.

Now usually during the parade of nations of the opening ceremonies Greece is the first to enter the arena followed by the countries in alphabetical order with the hosting nation entering last. Having waited a whole year due to the Covid-19 pandemic, the world was excited to get the Games started. But to everyone’s surprise the order of the parade of nations would proceed differently than prior Olympics.

Greece still entered first, followed by the Refugee Olympic Team and then the nations paraded in based on where they fell on the Gojūon system. Japan would be the last country to march in, but for the first time ever the hosting countries of the next two Olympics entered before the hosting country. And what were those two countries?

France and The United States of America.

Paris was set to host the upcoming 2024 Games just three years away, and then in 2028 Los Angeles gets the honor once again of bringing the world together. The last time LA hosted was in 1984, and the last time America itself hosted the Summer Games was Atlanta 1996.

“Okay everyone shut up!!” The tv was turned to the loudest volume possible, all in attendance falling to hush whispers.

“Everything changes,” Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson’s voice echoes through the speakers, his silhouette figure walking into an empty arena. “The longest wait of their lives is over.” The beat of the music gets louder, building in pressure. “And the combination of their blood, sweat, and tears,” his face is revealed under the light, “finally arrives.”

The beat drops in time with the image of fireworks rocketing from the Rio arena, an announcer’s voice stating, “this is the moment that you all have been waiting for.”

“It’s not easy to bring the entire whole planet together,” the Rock states, “and it certainly wasn’t tonight. But, here we are.”

“Finally!”

“It’s finally here.”

“The Olympics are finally here,” Gold Medalist Simone Biles grins.

“Yeah, I’m hyped up.”

“Can’t wait to show the world what I got.”

The image shows Dwayne once again, “Tonight we are all so lucky to witness the hardest workers in the room.” Then it changes to athletes training, from gymnast Sam Mikulak to sprinter Noah Lyles. “The athletes who are a brilliant tapestry of talent, commitment, and drive.”

“Drive, drive, drive!”

“Now what was once considered unthinkable just one year ago has become a glorious reality. We come together united to celebrate the Olympians who exemplify the very best in all of us.”

🎼 legs are shaking, hands aching, 🎼

Simone Biles appears, determination in her gaze as she races down the vault runway. “It’s Simone’s party and everyone else is just a guest,” Tim Daggett’s voice cuts in during the clip of Simone at the World Championships, followed by the Rock.

“She is absolutely the greatest gymnast the world has ever seen. But even if there’s nothing left to prove, there’s a chance to launch herself even higher into the rarest air of immortality.”

As Simone lands her vault, it transitions into Katie Ledecky entering the pool. “The most dominant swimmer in the world.” “It’s just ridiculous!”

“She swims like a machine created to wreak havoc and decimate with impunity.”

“Katie Ledecky smashes her own world record!”

“But in reality she’s about the nicest person you’ll ever meet,” the rock’s face returns, bearing his own smile like Katie. “And kindness matters. Always.” Track star Noah Lyles running takes over. “He makes running as fast as you can look the way it’s supposed to look.”

“NOAH LYLES, WORLD CHAMPION!”

Dwayne grins, “Damn fun.” The next athlete featured was the one they were all waiting for.

“On dry land she’s impressive, in the water she’s simply lethal,” the Hard Deck erupted in cheers, Y/n flashing onto the screens showcasing her drop in during the WSL World Tour.

“That’s my baby!!!” Her name appeared in big bold letters like the others, ‘Y/n L/n. Kapolei, O’ahu, HI.’

“Monstruos wave for Y/n L/n, but she handles it like a pro.” The clip shows her pointing to the sky in victory following her win. “She’s here to prove why surfing should’ve been in the Olympics ages ago,” the Rock looks proud, “and look cool as hell while doing so.”

The tone of the video shifts, bringing forth the raw and emotional reality of athletes who’ve given every inch of their soul to be on the world’s greatest sporting stage. “They’re kids from Minneapolis—.”

“Kenny Harrison!” A girl crosses the finish line in joy, soon embraced by her father. “Raleigh.”

Fellow surfer and native Hawaiian Carissa Moore is shown, “And Honolulu.” A baby in a stroller being pushed by her mother. “They’re working moms with unfinished business.” Allison Felix with her daughter.

“This is what makes all the sacrifice worth it.”

Simone Manuel becoming the first Black woman to win an individual Olympic gold at the 2016 Rio Games. “The barrier breakers who’ve proven the power of the platform.”

“I can’t begin to tell you what this means for the sport of swimming in the United States.”

“There’s Jordan—!” A montage of Gold medal winning teams flashed. The Fab Five. The women’s soccer and basketball teams. The women’s rowing team. The Fierce and Final Five of U.S Gymnastics. “And the teams that have dominated for generations with no intention of changing the script for this one.”

“Get the gold medals ready. Again!”

“These awe-inspiring multi-talented athletes are taking on the world.”

🎼 ‘You bring me back to life.’ 🎼

Between the music and feel good montage, some of the viewers in the hard deck were having trouble holding back tears. Chills racking up their body. It made them want to get out and start training to be a world class athlete.

“They really are the best of us. They’re bringing us together.”

“That’s a new world record!”

“And they’re about to give you, at long last, the greatest two-week spectacle the world has ever seen.” Close ups of Team USA’s Olympians rolled, Javy wiping his eyes when Y/n appeared. “It is their Games. It is our Games.”

Absolute chills.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am so grateful to have the honor of presenting to you….Team USA.” At the last word the Rock disappears, cutting to Team USA entering the Tokyo dome—the American flag flying high, “USA! USA! USA!” Though they couldn’t hear the cheers from the Hard Deck across the ocean, that didn’t stop the building from erupting in whistles. It was only the opening ceremonies so one could imagine what it would be like come the 26th and 27th.

When Y/n hits the waves for a chance at Olympic gold.

Tsurigasaki Beach, located 40 miles from Tokyo, was the place where it would all happen. The damp sand beneath Y/n’s toes felt comforting. Although the overcast skies made her worried. Tropical Storm Nepartak caused the waves to be more aggressive and unpredictable. It was going to be an interesting day of competition.

After qualifying with a big score in her heat the previous day, Y/n was set to compete in the quarterfinals that morning. From there the semi-final contestants would be decided, going straight into the event before finals that afternoon. Three events in one day if she made it all the way to the end.

“I’m going to be so sore tonight.”

Shortboard in hand, Y/n raced to the water the second the horn sounded. Instant shivers along her arms from the cold feeling. Cloudy skies prevented the sun from heating the water, “goodness gracious.”

Quarterfinals breezed by. Y/n started off strong with a score of 7 for her first wave, going on to claim two more, another 7 and an 8 bringing her total score to a 15. Putting her, American Carissa Moore, South African Bianca Buitendag and Japan’s Amuro Tsuzuki into the semifinals.

“Stellar performance by Y/n L/n of the United States. She had a bit of trouble on her second wave—which we can’t blame her for; many competitors have been having difficulty today due to the impact of tropical storm Nepartak on the tide. L/n’s score of 15 puts her at the top for the quarterfinals, but that can all change when we return for the semifinals in the next hour. It looks like she’ll be up against Japan’s Amuro Tsuzuki for one of two spots in the gold medal match.”

“That’s how you do it,” Javy clapped at the tv, the footage replaying Y/n’s competition highlights. “Semi-finals here we go.”

During the semis the pressure was on. Y/n could feel it all over, anxiety coursing when the horn sounded. Thirty minutes on the clock, ticking down to eliminate either her or Amuro. Usually her luck turns out for the better whenever she gets the first wave, however, Amuro beats her to it. Catching the next one Y/n focuses on pulling speed and managing her flow into the maneuvers, receiving a score of 6.2 on her first wave, 8.3 on her second and 7 on her third. Unfortunately a wipe out early on her fourth and final wave results in a score of 3.

“Is that gonna be enough?” Jake cringes, noticing the look of unease on his friend's visage. Y/n appeared shaken from the wipe out. Very rare has she ever messed up greatly in competition. But there’s always a first for everything.

Javy had a paper in front of him, writing down Y/n’s scores and the ones of her competitors to predict what she needed and if she was qualified to the final round.

“Her six and seven will be dropped, putting her at 11.30,” he taps the pen on the bar surface, “if Amuro doesn’t get another wave in the next,” Javy checks the time, “two minutes then it should put Y/n through to the finals.”

Amuro did in fact catch another wave before the horn sounded, ending their round in the semis, but it wasn’t enough. Her total score accumulated a 7.43, eliminating her from the final competition.

“One more,” her father/coach took a hold of her shoulders. “You’re almost there, Y/n.” Almost to the gold. “Rest up, you got one hour.”

He didn’t have to tell her twice. Picking up a water bottle and plotting on the sand Y/n downed the liquid and munched on an apple. To pass time she scrolled through Tik Tok, sent a selfie to Javy—who sent one of him and the squad back—and called her family in O’ahu to calm her nerves. She had already talked with Javy that morning before quarterfinals, promising to FaceTime him after the finals.

It was nerve racking. Regardless of how the event went, Y/n was guaranteed the silver medal. USA would take home both Gold and Silver in surfing’s debut being fellow American Carissa Moore beat out South Africa’s Bianca Buitendag in their round.

One competition left.

Bidding good luck to Carissa, Y/n took her position and waited for the horn. Thirty minutes on the clock. Thirty minutes to a gold medal.

“Here we go,” Payback announced in time with Y/n paddling out to sea. Javy rubbed his hands together, eyes glued to the screen.

“And the two Americans are off in the first ever gold medal match for surfing. Carissa Moore, the 2019 WSL World Champion, and twelve-time title holder Y/n L/n head-to-head to declare who will become the woman to win surfing’s first gold medal. Both have exemplified great performances today—it’s not easy doing a quarterfinals, semi-finals, and finals all in one day, but these pros make it look easy.”

“There she goes!” Nat shouted, earning cheers at the bar when Y/n caught the first wave of the competition.

“Kicking off with the first wave, in just two minutes of the clock starting is Y/n L/n. Dropping in beautifully, easing into the wave…..Straight into an roundhouse cutback, which she does flawlessly. Bottom turn, I think she’s gonna try and do a off-the-lip right here….and she nails it! I think she’s hoping to elongate this wave as far out as she can. Carving now and finishing with a 360 into an Ariel. Wow! That was a great start by Y/n.”

“Yeah that’s what I’m talking about!” Javy shouted over the cheers, grin plastered wide only to brighten more when the score came back a 8.7. “HELL YEAH! LETS GO!”

Carissa’s wave was impressive. She managed to hold it down with complicated moves to earn a 8.5. Both women scored huge on the first waves followed by 7s across the board. Nearing the final five minutes Carissa managed to get a 6.43.

“She can’t get anything lower than a 6.23,” Javy felt sweat pool on his forehead, suddenly feeling hot in the bar despite it being the ass crack of dawn.

“She’s got this,” Nat patted his back.

The clock was ticking down. Two minutes to go and Y/n had yet to find a wave. Placing her palm onto the surface, she took a deep breath, “please, give me a sign.” Not a moment later she felt something in her say to look right.

There, brimming about fifteen feet away, was the perfect wave.

Wasting no time Y/n’s chest planted to her board, paddling as fast as possible. Her heart was pounding, salt water splashing. Positioning herself in front of the forming body, Y/n silently called out to whoever was listening for strength.

“Wow she’s going for that huge current out on the west side. Moore is too far back—it’s gonna be L/n on the final wave of the women’s competition. With one minute to go she’s dropping in—.”

Y/n allowed the adrenaline to consume her, giving it total control as she dropped in. The highest wave of the competition yet, Y/n knew she’d be having a tube ride with how it formed. Picking up speed, she knelt slightly, paralleling her chest with the wall of the wave, the water curving around her. Blocking the world from her view.

It was just her and the sea. No one else.

Closing her eyes briefly, she pictured she was back on O’ahu in the water she grew up in. Sun beating down and gentle hum of seagulls.

Like she was in paradise.

The image left as quick as it came. Y/n snapping out of her daydream to exit the tube ride to the cheers of her father on the beach, curing back into the wave to finish on a high note by performing her signature Ariel. Smiling the whole way down just as the horn signified the end of the competition.

“And there you have it folks. The women’s surfing finals has officially come to a close—Y/n L/n ending her Olympic Games with a remarkable last wave. Absolute perfection with speed, precision, and control. That’s gonna be the highest score for her I feel.”

“C’mon, c’mon,” Javy bit his nail, knee bouncing from the anxiety of not knowing. Carissa’s total score was displayed first, 14.93. Y/n’s lowest was a seven, highest 8.7. Her final wave was amazing, but judging was unpredictable. Anything could happen.

Then in the blink of an eye the hard deck exploded.

“I don’t believe it! Tens across the board for Y/n L/n bringing her total to 17.00!! Y/n L/n has won the gold for the United States—Carissa Moore with the silver. USA goes one and two in women’s surfing at its Olympic debut!!! Take it all in, we are witnessing history,” the screen shows Y/n and Carissa embracing, leaning over their boards to congratulate the other, “Team USA has much to celebrate, the world of surfing has their champion. Y/n L/n adds gold to her name—surfing’s first Olympic Champion here in Tokyo!!”

Y/n laughed the entire time she paddled to shore, raising to her feet to race towards her father. She was soaking wet but he didn’t care. “You did it!” He yelled, kissing her head with tears in his eyes. “You’re an Olympic champion! I’m so so proud of you!” Soon they were greeted by Carissa and the rest of Team USA’s surfing members. The two women were lifted onto shoulders, American flags draped over their backs with photographers surrounding them.

It was a moving image. Two women from Honolulu and Kapolei, Hawaii won surfing’s first Olympic silver and gold medal. If only Duke Kahanamoku could be there to witness.

Back at the hard deck celebratory drinks were served and toasts raised to Y/n. Javy barely contained his emotion, eyes watering the moment her name came back the winner. Natasha and Jake embraced him in a hug, the guys whistling and hollering. Penny rang the bell.

“She won! Oh my God my baby is a gold medalist!! This is the best day ever!!”

The entire podium ceremony Y/n was on cloud nine. Placing the gold medal around her neck, she took a moment to stare at it. Disbelief and awe in her eyes. ‘Wow, I actually did it.’

When the national anthem came to an end Y/n did the traditional bite of the medal for the cameras. Posing with Carissa and Bianca afterwards, Y/n was ushered to interviews.

“Hello, Y/n,” the reporter beamed, “congratulations are in store—what an amazing moment for you. You’re the first gold medalist in women’s surfing at the Olympics. How does it feel?”

“It’s absolutely a dream come true. For years the surfing community has wished for this—to be in the Olympics and for me to be part of its debut, winning the gold medal…I-I can’t put into words how much this means to me. I’m so grateful and honored.”

“You’ve been around for a while now,” the reporter mentioned, “2004 was the first time we saw you and you’ve gone on to have a stellar surfing career. Winning the WSL World Surfing Games twelve times now—competing when it was still called the WSL World Championships and became the first woman to win The Eddie Aikau Big Wave Invitational in 2016. This is your first Olympic Games, surfing will be at the Paris Games in three years. Can we expect to hopefully see you there?”

“I wouldn't rule it out,” Y/n winked with a giggle. “Paris is in three years and I would love to return to the Olympics again. After dreaming for so long I don’t want to let it go so easily. Of course anything can happen between now and 2024 but with my family, friends, and boyfriend cheering me on with their endless support…” she gave a cheeky shrug, “I’m gonna work hard and get back in the water once I’m home.”

“We’ll be rooting for you, Y/n. I don’t think the surfing world is ready to say goodbye to you. Anything else you’d like to say before you have to go. Anyone you’d like to say thanks to?”

Instantly the Olympian brightened, eyes locking on the camera. “I wanna give a shoutout to my hometown of Kapolei on O’ahu—the place where this journey started on the beautiful beaches and waters of my home. To my family and friends, thank you for your love, support, guidance and always cheering me on even when the going gets tough. My dad, who’s been my coach since I was seven is with me here to share this win, I couldn’t have done this without him. To my San Diego family watching, you better save me a beer at the Hard Deck when I come visit next week,” she winks, knowing the squad would get a kick out of it. Then Y/n softens, “and finally to my boyfriend, Javy, who’s with our friends in Fightertown. I love you so much, thank you for being my rock during quarantine and pushing me to do my best. I can’t wait to see you and this is for you.” Holding up the medal, Y/n blows a kiss to the screen before saying goodbye to the reporter.

Upon landing in San Diego two nights later, Y/n was greeted by a celebration from her friends. Members of the Pacific Beach Surf Club were there, as were the dagger squad. Javy met her in the middle the second she exited the terminal, lifting her in his arms. “Finally your back!! I’m so fucking proud of you!” Setting her down, he kept his arms around her and the two jumped up and down like school children in a heap of laughter.

Finally they calmed, sharing a sweet kiss. “How was your flight,” he walked when they pulled away, moving to grab her carryon back.

“Long,” she moaned, leaning into his side. “But worth it.” Soon she was surrounded by their friends. Congratulations all around, Mickey asking to see the medal, Jake saying all her drinks are on him, Nat telling her how much she missed having another girl around. “I missed you guys,” Y/n pouted, “man I wish you all could’ve been there.”

“Don’t worry, Y/n/n,” Bradley patted her shoulder, “We’ll be there in Paris.”

“That’s quite a bit away, Roo.”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “but there’s no harm in planning now.”

“Let’s let the woman rest before kicking her training mode into gear,” Javy teased, earning a playful nudge from his girlfriend. Together they got her bags and headed straight for The Hard Deck. They drinked, they danced. Javy and Y/n had a rematch of their pool game.

“This feels a bit like deja vu,” she smirked, chalking up her cue. Javy winked, puckering his lips in an air kiss causing her to laugh.

For a week Y/n stayed in San Diego before flying home to Hawaii with Javy. Again she was greeted at the airport by her family and friends she’d grown up with. The local news station was present, students from schools wanting to join in on the celebration. It felt amazing to be home after two weeks away.

They settled in at her Honolulu home, finding the perfect place to display her medal and ordered take out since neither was in the mood to cook after a 6 ½ hour flight. Once finished with dinner Y/n gave her boyfriend a knowing look, “Wanna watch the sunset?”

She didn’t mean sitting on her porch or even the sand. No, she meant taking the boards and laying out on the sea as the calm surface of the water kept them afloat.

Javy agreed, rushing to get his swim trunks on while she put on a swimsuit. Grabbing their boards they locked up the house and jogged the quarter of a mile to the beach, paddling out to get a front row seat of the descending sun. Colors of bright orange and pink painted the sky. A beautiful contrast to the deep blues of the ocean.

“Is this heaven?” He whispered, finding her eyes staring back at him from where her cheek pressed to the board. All the love conveying in the simple look. And with her gentle words, Javy felt all the worry and unease he ever experienced lift from his soul.

“More like paradise.”

……………….

TGM Tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan , @caitsymichelle13 , @poppyalice2001 , @cutelittlepotatofry , @luckyladycreator2, @americaarse , @elenavampire21 , @back-tooo-black , @wildellaa , @artemissunn , @pinkpantheris

[mamsieur]

Perseus and Andromeda | Javy "Coyote" Machado x Reader

Summary : Javy's not a big fan of night clubs, and yet he agreed to accompany his cousin for her birthday. When all seems too much for him, someone turns his evening for the better.

TW : mention of alcohol, slight panic attack, fluff

Length : 3079 words

AN : That man doesn't have enough works about him. I'll maybe turn this one into a series, who knows.

posted on AO3 October 13, 2023

Javy has never been the type to go clubbing or partying too much, despite what everyone seemed to think. He much preferred a quiet evening with his buddies over a few beers and pizzas, watching a game or a good action movie. The comfort of his home was something he always yearned for when he was out for more than a few hours. Especially since he was permanently stationed in San Diego, his apartment was truly a home, not just a house. He had even adopted a cat from a shelter; an old one named Gizmo. 

His friends, especially Jake, never seemed to understand why he didn't like to stay out late, even on weekends. He didn’t have a girlfriend, he was barely thirty, and his outgoing personality seemed to categorize him as someone who liked to go out and seduce, like his friend Jake. Sure, he liked to flirt and go out once in a while, but he liked the coziness of his own home even more. The only ones in the squadron who seemed to understand and who did not tease him about it were Bob, because of his more reserved and introverted nature, and Bradley, who always claimed he was getting too old to go out every weekend.

And yet here he was, in the middle of a nightclub. 

Under pressure from his aunt, he had no choice but to be a chaperone for his little cousin Ava, who was celebrating her twenty-fifth birthday. She decided to visit him at the last minute and celebrate with her friends in a well renowned club. Ava was sweet, but also a real party girl. She loved to go out, dance and drink the night away. The last time she dragged Javy to a party, he remembered waking up with the worst headache of his life, so he promised himself not to let her make him drink. Also, as Javy didn't want to be alone with his cousin and her three best friends, he managed to bring Jake, Rebeun and Mickey with him. Unfortunately for him, the three boys enjoyed the party with the girls, leaving him alone with his drink at the bar. 

For what seemed like the hundredth time, he looked down at his phone to check the time. Not even ten minutes had passed since he had last checked. The music was way too loud, the lights were starting to hurt his eyes, but he had to stay at least four hours, if not five, knowing Ava. He loved her for sure, but being here was torture for him. He sighed again and ordered a soda to the bartender, keeping an eye on his baby cousin and her friends.

The atmosphere of nightclubs always made him feel that nothing was real, that everything was fogged in a cloud of alcohol, sweat and uncomfortable heat. He was not uncomfortable per se, but he was not in his element either ; so, he always preferred to stay at the bar, like a ship anchored in a harbor. But tonight Ava seemed to have decided he wasn't going to stand by and watch. It was all right if he didn't drink, but she wasn't going to let him stand by the bar like some kind of security guard.

"Come on Javy, it's my birthday," she whined, "just one dance, please!" She grabbed his hand and dragged him - with great difficulty - to the dance floor.

"Yeah Coyote, loosen up a little," Mickey encouraged with a big grin as he danced with one of Ava's friends who giggled in his arms. The taller man groaned, not very comfortable in the crowd Ava had pushed him into. He sighed as she used her puppy dog eyes to get him to dance with her. 

"Just one dance, Ava. Just. One." He reminded her, holding up a finger. She chuckled as she nodded, a mischievous look in her eyes. Javy sighed and started to dance with her and the others, Jake encouraging him with Reuben. One dance became two, then three, then four... until he lost count. He was kind of stuck in the middle of the dance floor anyway. 

As the minutes and hours passed, Javy had this strange feeling, as if between dream and reality, this gray area where everything seemed unreal and suspended. He knew the music was still loud around him, but he could barely hear it. He felt like he was in absorbent cotton, like after a flight with a high G-force. It wasn't a pleasant or unpleasant sensation, just strange, as if time was passing in a different way. He looked around to spot his friends in the crowd; Mickey was still with Ava's friend, Jake was flirting with an unknown blonde, and Reuben was dancing with Ava and her other friends. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, and Ava waved and smiled at Javy, gesturing for him to join her. He shook his head and mouthed that he was going back to the bar. Ava pouted, but then shrugged her shoulders with a grin, already happy to have trapped him into dancing with them for almost two hours.

He closed his eyes for a moment to ground himself, but it didn't seem to work. He needed to get some air, to breathe. But every time he tried to take a few steps, he was blocked. So he stayed a little longer with his friends and Ava. The young woman seemed to be having the time of her life, dancing with her friends and then with Jake or Reuben, strangers or Javy. It reassured him to see her so happy and still in full possession of her senses.

But a feeling of anxiety slowly crept over him. He hated being stuck between so many strangers. His impression of being in cotton was replaced by a feeling of hypersensitivity to the sounds, heat and movements around him. Fatigue didn't help him control the situation. He tried again to make his way through the drunken, dancing crowd. He forced his way through, his eyes fixed on the door to the smoking area. He didn't smoke, but it was the only way to get in and out quickly and safely. He moved forward one by one, apologizing as he went, slipping between people as best he could, avoiding the sticky couples, his gaze always straight ahead. He moved faster and faster as he reached the end of the crowd. When he finally reached the door, it swung open in front of him, stopping him dead in his tracks. He was faced with a young woman he didn't know, but her face was familiar. She seemed as surprised as he was. Javy's ears were ringing and he couldn't hear anything coherent between the music, his own brain telling him to hurry and the young woman in front of him who seemed to be talking to him. His own breathing seemed far too loud, and he could even hear his heart beating in his ears. The stranger's eyes were filled with concern as she recognized Javy's anxious, almost panicked look. And when she gently grabbed his forearm, everything in the pilot's mind seemed to calm down.

"Are you okay?" she asked. Her voice was soft and reassuring, and Javy could only hear it now; everything had faded away behind him. He blinked a few times before answering.

"Y-Yeah... I, uh, I just need some air, I think..." he stuttered a little. The stranger nodded and let him through the door. She joined him on the small bench. Javy was surprised that there was no one in this smoking area, but it was kind of relieving. He took a moment to simply breathe. He had experienced a panic attack in the past, but he didn't think he could have one just by coming to a club.

"So... what's your name?" the young woman said softly, looking at the stars above them.

"Javy... you?" 

"Y/N," she smiled at him and turned to him, "are you feeling better Javy?"

"Yeah," he nodded and sighed, "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me..."

"Don't be, it happens. I've seen a lot of customers get anxious when they spend too much time in crowds," she handed him a small bottle of water from her purse, "I think you should drink some water."

He took the bottle and looked at her suspiciously, "Are you trying to drug me?" he teased, feeling himself blush at the pretty laugh she let out.

"Believe me, pretty boy, if I wanted to drug you, I would have put it in your soda earlier," she winked at him. 

And it clicked in Javy's head, "You're the bartender. We're not in the smoking area," he pointed at her and then at the door, realizing the situation.

"I am and we're not. We're in the staff area," she chuckled, "that's why I asked if you were lost."

"I... I didn't quite hear you," Javy admitted with a bashful smile as he stood up, "Maybe I should let you enjoy your break ?" he gestured toward the door and she shrugged.

"You can stay a while to relax if you want, my shift just ended, I can tell my boss you're a friend. I'm sure you'll be more comfortable here than in the smoking area," she smiled kindly, "it's up to you."

Javy looked at her and pondered his options. He could go to the smoking corner and choke on the smoke, or he could stay with her. He could go back to a tiny room that would surely be crowded with people, or he could stay here with the cute barmaid. 

His choice was quickly made.

"Okay, I'll stay here, but only because you didn't poison my drinks," he smiled and was rewarded with another pretty laugh. He wanted to hear it over and over again. It was like a melody, a soothing one. Javy had had his fair share of dates and flings, but none had made him feel like this. It was weird, but not in a bad way. He wanted to know everything about Y/N, from the most insignificant thing to her biggest milestone, from her favorite color to her entire childhood. When her eyes met his, he felt like a teenager again. He cleared his throat and smiled.

"So you work here?" he asked, immediately cursing himself in his head for asking such a stupid question.

"Yes I do, but it's only temporary, at least I hope so," she smiled at him, "And what do you do, pretty boy?"

"I'm a naval aviator, ma'am," he smiled at the chuckle she let out as he mockingly saluted her. She was so pretty when she laughed; her eyes were sparkling, her cheeks were rosy, and her nose wrinkled in such a cute way. Javy felt his heart skip a beat when she looked back at him with such a soft and adorable grin.

"So you're one of those handsome flyboys... What's it like? I mean, flying so high and so fast?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. Javy smiled and sat down next to her, his eyes drifting to the starry sky. As he explained what his job was like, she continued to question him with sincere interest. He always answered as best he could without being too technical. After that, they talked about everything and got to know each other. Javy was proud and happy when he could make her laugh. A silly anecdote about a locker room accident between him and Jake made her laugh out loud and she grabbed the young man's forearm to keep from falling over. He felt goosebumps run up his arm and down his back. He didn't want her to let go and she didn't. She gently hooked her arm into his and rested her head on his shoulder.

Everything seemed so simple and easy with her, so crystal clear. There was no awkwardness between them, as if they had known each other for a long time. 

They talked about everything. Javy learned that the young woman loved San Diego, but that her job wasn't fulfilling despite the decent pay, that she rented an old apartment from an unpleasant old man, that she loved admiring the stars but had never really taken the time to learn the constellations. So he told her what little he knew, including the story of Perseus and Andromeda, the story of a hero who flew to save a beautiful princess.

"I could fly and save you from your landlord, just as Perseus saved Andromeda," he teased, and she laughed and shook her head.

"Sounds like an interesting prospect. But just so you know, I'm not a princess in distress either, dear Perseus," she winked at him with a playful smile, her fingers brushing gently along his forearm in lazy circles.

"I never said you were, Andromeda wasn't really in control of her life. You seem to be a strong, independent woman," he winked back, "But if the myth is true, I personally think that Andromeda's beauty wouldn't stand a chance against you," he added, smiling as she blushed and giggled to hide her embarrassment. 

"You're being a little too flattering, Perseus..." she whispered. Javy leaned closer and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Just telling the truth, Andromeda," he smiled at her.

"And if anything, I was the one who saved you tonight, I should be Perseus in this story," she teased, and he laughed.

"Touché."

The evening had taken a rather pleasant turn for Javy. He had almost forgotten about Ava and the others. Only when he felt his phone vibrate did he realize what time it was; the nightclub was about to close and he'd just spent two hours with Y/N. Noticing the time, the young woman swore and sighed. It was nearly three in the morning.

"The club is closing... we have to be discreet on our way back in, the lights all must be on," she said as she stood up and slid her hand into Javy's, "You'll have to follow me very closely flyboy," she smiled and the young man blushed. He nodded with an equally wide smile and squeezed her hand slightly, "Lead the way, Andromeda."

She chuckled and headed for the door. She checked carefully to make sure the way was clear and then quickly pulled Javy inside with her. She looked back at him over her shoulder and they started giggling like kids who didn't get caught stealing candy from the pantry. They slipped through the crowd toward the exit, staying close together. Javy looked around for his cousin and the others outside. He spotted them near their cars, Ava waving at him. Then he looked at Y/N, their hands still in each other's, fingers intertwined. He didn't want to let them go, but he had to get back. And he didn't want to burden her with Jake and Ava's comments or Reuben and Mickey's knowing looks. 

To his surprise, it was the young woman who spoke first, facing him.

"I had a really good time with you... and... I was wondering... I was wondering if..." 

Javy couldn't help but smile a little as she fought down her embarrassment to ask him her question. He ran his free hand over her cheek, lifting her face a little to plant his eyes in hers.

"If your question is whether we can meet again, the answer is yes, Andromeda," he winked at her. The young woman blushed but smiled adorably before handing him her phone so he could punch in his number. Javy laughed a little as she saved it under "Flyboy/Perseus". She sent him a short text message so he had her number too and he saved it as "Savior/Andromeda". It made her laugh and Javy felt his heart flutter. He couldn't wait to ask her out on a real date. So he did.

"So... are you working tomorrow night?"

"No, actually I'm not working until Tuesday," she smiled, "Why?"

"Great. I'll pick you up at 8:00, I know a place where we can do better stargazing than the staff area at the back of the club. I'll bring some food too."

She giggled and nodded, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling with excitement, "Sounds lovely, I'll text you my address."

Behind them, Javy could hear his friends and cousin getting a little impatient. He turned his head a little to see what they wanted; while Jake gave him both thumbs up, Ava gestured for him to hurry up; she probably had an after party planned at the Airbnb where she was staying. Y/N followed his gaze and blushed a little when she saw all those eyes on them.

"I think they're waiting for you," she chuckled and squeezed his hand.

"I think they can wait a few more seconds," he muttered, catching her chin and tilting her head a little so she was looking up at him. They were so close that his breath made her skin tingle. She bit her lip, blushing even more when his eyes flickered between her eyes and her lips. She rose on her toes, closing the distance between them a little more, and Javy kissed her gently. And it was as if the world disappeared. Her free hand slid down his neck and his down her waist. She was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted in his life, her lips so soft against his.

When they parted, they could hear Ava and the others cheering for them and Y/N snorted a little.

"Okay Perseus, I think your friends are getting a little too excited for you here."

"You think?" he grinned, "In my opinion, they're jealous."

He kissed her again and felt her smile against his lips. But he had to go.

"See you tomorrow Andromeda, be safe on your way home," he whispered to her, smiling. She nodded and gently pulled away. "Be safe too, Perseus," she smiled before walking to her own car, waving to him and his friend behind her. Javy watched her go and finally joined his group with a light step and a throbbing heart. After all, it hadn't been such a terrible evening, and the comforts of home seemed almost bland. There was only one thing he could wait for: the next evening.