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theharddeck · 11 months

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your love is the love i need || chapter 3/4

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

summary: Mrs. Machado is on a plane home, so there's no need to keep pretending...but it's awful tempting when you wake up in bed with someone you've been in love with for months.

warnings: 18+, minors please DNI – the smut starts here, folks. it's not PiV not yet but come back for ch5, but there's mutual masturbation, swearing like you'd not believe, and questionable sanitary decisions who am i

length: 3.8k

A/N: *appears after four months with 1.8k words of smut* thank you to everyone who reached out to check on this fic, who asked for updates, and who encouraged my lunacy. so excited to continue to tell their story!

chapter one / chapter two

Monday Morning

You woke up slowly, the sun shining through your blinds, and your arms wrapped around a sleeping Javy Machado.

You lay still for a second, cataloging the moment.

You’d both shifted in your sleep; Javy had rolled over and you’d followed him, your chest against his back and your nose pressed into the nape of his neck. You didn’t think of yourself as a big spoon, and you’d bet anything that Javy wouldn’t publicly admit to being the little spoon, but it felt so comfortable this way, to be wrapped around him, holding him.

You knew he was a heavy sleeper, from the time he’d fallen asleep in one of the common rooms, and Bob and Fanboy had started stacking things on top of him, to see how long it’d take him to wake up (four coffee mugs, two couch cushions, nine folded flight suits, six F/A-18 manuals, a carefully balanced Halo, and it’d been one of the coffee mugs falling to the floor and shattering that’d done the trick).

But you still held your breath when you pulled away from him, hoping he wouldn’t wake. When he didn’t stir, you propped yourself up on your elbow, looking down at him.

He really was just so beautiful.

Curled on his side, he looked sweeter than normal, but sleep had done nothing to diminish his handsomeness. He nuzzled deeper into one of your silk pillowcases, an endearing gesture that had you wishing you didn’t have drills in a couple hours. He still didn’t wake, but he did mumble something when the bed shifted, and you kept your steps light as you walked out of the room.

No need to wake him until it was necessary.

You ran through an abbreviated morning routine in the bathroom, before padding though the house to look for some tea. The sun shone in a slender patch through the morning shadows in your small kitchen, and you hefted yourself onto the countertop into that sliver of light, humming contentedly as you felt the warm rays over your skin. The kettle was within arms reach, as were the cinnamon rolls and your ipad, and you opened the sticky pastries as you flipped through your apps until you found the New York Crossword puzzle.

You were a couple bites into your second cinnamon roll when you heard the floors creaking in the hallway, getting louder.

“What’s an eight letter word for Roger the Dodger?” you asked, not looking up.

“God, I hate that I know this,” Javy mumbled to himself, from the door, before he sighed dramatically. “It’s Staubach.”

You typed the name in, your eyes widening when it completed the row. “Didn’t know you were a football guy.”

“I’m not,” he still sounded somewhat chagrined, “Jake idolizes the man more than Cyclone.”

You looked up at him, prepared to make some quick quip, but as you took in the sight of Javy standing in your doorway, eyes still sleepy, body still lax, you genuinely forgot words.

He looked like a dream.

The tshirt he’d slept in was wrinkled, and he rested a shoulder against the doorframe, slouching slightly. He looked comfortable, he looked like it was normal for him to be in a tshirt and boxers in your kitchen, first thing in the morning, fresh-faced and almost-smiling at you.

After everything in the last two days, after spending the night with the man, you knew you had nothing to feel bashful over, but it was still a lot to process—the reality of Javy being here, like this.

“Hi,” you said, stupidly.

“Hey,” he said, and his lips spread in a smile. The sun on your skin seemed cooler, like it was a lesser force than the light of his smile, and you shifted in your seat, brushing at your mouth with the back of your hand, hoping you didn’t have frosting all over your face.

“Want one?” you offered, gesturing to the pyrex of cinnamon rolls.

“Sure,” Javy shrugged, pushing away from the door.

You didn’t think you could look at him, barefoot in your kitchen and walking slowly towards you, without combusting, so you nudged the cinnamon rolls closer to him, and looked back at the crossword.

In your peripherals, you saw Javy pull a roll out of the dish, and start unwinding it with his fingers. His shoulder was practically leaned against yours, and he seemed content with the silence, so you went back to your crossword. You could feel his attention on the screen, but you didn’t mind, and the sun felt nice against your skin as it crept higher in the sky.

“Hmph,” Javy went to say something before he remembered his mouth was full of frosting, chewing aggressively for a second or two until he was clear. “This isn’t fair.”

You looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. “What isn’t?”

Javy frowned down at the last bit of cinnamon roll in his hands, before popping it into his mouth with a shrug. “Too good of a morning,” he said, like that made any sense at all.

When you didn’t react to that, Javy looked up at you, like he was waiting. He also was licking frosting off his fingers, like that was casual, and you shook your head, letting him know you needed more context.

“Just like,” he started, his tongue ghosting over his thumb, “waking up in your house, that smells like cinnamon because you made cinnamon rolls after you met my mom yesterday, before we made out and, you know, cuddled to sleep…I don’t know, it just sounds fake. Like, too good.”

You pressed your lips together, but you knew it wouldn’t hide your smile.

“Now what?” Javy asked, and you shook your head.

How did you say hey you’re too pretty to be real and also say things like that and also look like THIS with pillow marks on his face or wasn’t standing barefoot in your kitchen with frosting on his fingers?

So you leaned forward on the counter and kissed him, pressed your lips to his and licked the frosting off his tongue. And maybe you got what he was saying, because it wasn’t fair, it was too good, now that you knew how Javy tasted like first thing in the morning.

Javy pulled a long breath in through his nose, his shoulders rising as he pushed away from where he’d been leaning on the counter to stand in front of you. One of his hands ghosted over your knees, now digging into his stomach, and you parted them, so he could stand closer to you. It was kind of like that first night on your stoop, where the steps had given you extra height you didn’t have normally, but this time Javy was physically between your legs, and you decided that was nice too. His other hand was on the back of your neck, his thumb stroking up your jaw as he cradled your head with the rest of his hand.

“Why isn’t the weekend longer?” Javy mumbled between kisses, his words lingering between your lips. The momentary separation caused by his words gave you an excuse to kiss the corner of his mouth, then down his jawline.

“It should definitely be longer,” you whispered back, your tongue teasing down his neck, and Javy leaned more heavily into you. You peppered his neck with light kisses, knowing the last thing either of you needed was to leave him with marks, but too enchanted by the way his breathing quickened to stop.

“Fuck,” Javy gritted, the words punched out of him when your lips grazed over his pulse point in his throat. God, you liked the sound of that, his surprise and his desire, his gorgeous voice gone rough. You hummed in response, and at the vibrations, Javy’s hand tightened on the back of your neck, and you knew you were playing with fire, but you wanted to hear more of it.

“And if the weekend were longer,” you asked, pressing your lips to the place where his pulse was racing, not at all surprised that your own voice sounded breathless, “what would we do about it?”

Javy laughed, something darker than a chuckle, and he pulled back to capture your mouth with his again. There was something urgent in this kiss, hungrier than before, and you felt yourself pulling closer to the edge of the counter, closer to him.

You felt warm all over, felt heat pooling low in your stomach, felt your body reacting faster than it had any right to. You didn’t know if Javy could taste your desperation on your kiss, but you pressed closer to him, and he made a low sound in his throat, like he approved.

But then he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. His thumb stroked up your neck, his other hand still settled on your knee, and he pulled in a deep breath through his nose.

“You’re not playing fair,” he said, but he sounded more awed than upset.

You blinked your eyes open, your skin heating when you realized he was watching you already.

“We’ve an hour before we have to be on base,” you whispered, not an excuse, but an offer. Your skin still felt so hot, and you could feel your pulse pounding in your fingertips, in your core.

Javy groaned, his eyes fluttering shut and you felt him shake his head from the way his forehead moved against yours.

“Baby, you know an hour’s not enough for what I want to do with you.”

You shivered, either from the deep timbre of his voice, the serious meaning his words held, or the sweet way he’d said ‘with’ instead of ‘to’.

“Well now you’re not being fair,” you muttered, and you could hear something like a pout on your voice, but it wasn’t your fault. Not when Javy was giving you ideas for over-an-hour activities for the two of you.

He laughed again, warmer this time, and pulled you to him again. This kiss was chaste, comfortable, the kind of easy like you knew there was a next time. And as much as you wanted to sink into it, you knew he was right.

“Let me take you to dinner,” he said, and the implicit “first” wasn’t lost on either of you. “Better, I can make you dinner.”

Your eyes narrowed, and you were dangerously close to asking him to pinch you, to make sure you were still awake.

“You can make me dinner, Coyote,” you accepted, keeping your voice light, since he was apparently determined to be a gentleman this morning.

Of course, using his callsign had Javy’s head dropping to your shoulder, and another half-hearted groan escaping out of him.

“’m trying to be a good person, here,” he said into your shoulder, and you patted his chest lightly, consolingly.

“One of us has to be,” you muttered, and he huffed into your sweatshirt. “Alright, let me down.”

He stilled, almost imperceptibly, but you got the feeling he’d gone from nuzzling into your sweatshirt to hiding in it.

“Give me a sec,” he mumbled, shifting his hips slightly. The motion drew your eyes downward between the two of you and—ah.

You shouldn’t be surprised.

Javy was tall, it was early in the morning, boxers were thin material...but the sight of his impressive erection brought back the heat of your make out session, and then it was your turn to shift on the counter. It wasn’t even entirely lascivious, it was just nice to know you were wanted, that there was physical proof of it.

“Sorry,” Javy’s voice was still muffled in your sweatshirt, as he mistook your arousal for discomfort. “I’ve just been thinking about this for so long.”

He trailed off, and you thought quickly about the time left in the morning, how you both needed to be focused at work today, and if there was a way to compromise–take the edge off, so to speak, without leading further down distraction. And you thought of how he’d barely touched you this morning, but his voice and the way he moved were dizzying enough, and your hand that’d been on his chest wound up to rest along the side of his face. He turned into your hand, a small gesture that made your heart flutter, and your decision solidified.

“Do me a favor?” you asked quietly, and you felt when Javy nodded. “Sit at the table?”

Javy lifted up from your shoulder, confused, but when you smiled at him, he moved to do as you asked.

You didn’t close your legs, still spread from where he’d stood between them, but you covered the cinnamon rolls and pushed your ipad away from you. You watched him cross the small width of your kitchen, settling into the chair facing you. His legs were somewhat spread still, and you knew you could do this.

“What have you thought of,” you asked, nervousness and anticipation mixing in your voice, “when you thought of this?”

For a moment, Javy was still, confused, and then his eyes fell to where your hand was running along the hem of your pajama shorts. He let out his breath slowly, and then his chin lifted as he sat back in the chair. He pushed his shoulders back as he settled, preening, his feet flat on the floor, and his eyes watched you intently.

“You want me to talk you through it?” he asked, his voice somehow even deeper, and it was like you could feel it washing over you.

You nodded, not trusting your voice to come out steady, and were rewarded by a gorgeous, slow smile spreading across the face of the man at your kitchen table.

“Yeah, I can do that, honey,” he said, his voice soft enough to make you hold your breath, desperate to catch every word. He looked at you for a long moment, his gaze heavy, like he was committing this sight to memory, and you got the feeling it wasn’t going to be as simple as him telling you his fantasies.

Namely because he was going to be the one giving directions.

“Pet yourself,” Javy said, voice steady and deep, “over your shorts.”

You couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped you when you did as he asked, your hand sliding between your legs. The contact was muted through the cotton, but your body still reacted to it, or maybe just to the fact that it was Javy who’d asked.

You stroked your hand between your legs, feeling your arousal building, feeling the slide of your hand shift as your body warmed to your touch.

“That’s it,” Javy breathed. “Press down, just like that…fuck, honey.”

He broke off, and you looked up at him, to find him pressing a hand over himself. Your legs twitched, and you felt your fingers grow wet, as your arousal soaked through the thin material of your shorts.

“You’re wet for me, already,” Javy said, his voice awed. “I can see it from here, baby, damn. Damn, I wish those were my fingers between your pretty thighs.”

You whimpered again at the curses falling past Javy’s lips, after all his restraint and chivalry. He sounded so good, he sounded like he had it as bad for you as you did for him.

“This isn’t what I thought about,” he said, his voice low, answering your question. “Because when I thought about it, I’d be right there, between your legs. It would be me feeling you soak through your panties. I could touch you, smell you, taste you, whatever I wanted, and you’d be looking at me–fuck, just like that, honey.”

His words were heady, and you could see the way he meant them. His eyes were intense and you looked away, your touch now feeling more like a tease than a beginning.

“Need more, Jay,” you managed, your voice shaking. “Please.”

“Anything, honey,” Javy said immediately, “anything. Bet you don’t know you could have anything if you asked like that, looking like this. I always imagined–okay, slide your hand into your panties, now, you can touch yourself.”

As you drew your hand back up to your waist, Javy kept pressing down on his dick through his boxers. It looked uncomfortable, but he was so focused on you, that you didn’t push him, not yet.

At the first brush of your fingers over your clit, you sighed in relief, and Javy groaned.

“You sound so pretty, baby, fuck. Just like I imagined, so sweet. Does that feel good? Your fingers on your pussy, for me?”

You nodded, feeling feverish.

“So good, Javy,” you gasped, your fingers finding a familiar rhythm. “I’m so wet, I feel—fuck, it feels so good.”

Javy’s hips jerked up, and you licked your lips, knowing what you needed.

“Let me see you,” you asked, your voice bordering on a whine.

His head fell back as your request registered, his hips rising of their own accord again.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he said to the ceiling, but then he shifted his hips to slide his boxers down to his knees, and pulling his hard dick out.

You moaned, a wanton sound that seemed to echo around the quiet kitchen, but fuck, look at him. Proportions were one thing, but he was so thick, and when he wrapped his big hand around himself, you shivered imagining how your hand would look in comparison. You watched a tremor work across his chest as Javy pulled his hand over himself, and your thighs spread wider of their own accord.

“Fuck, honey, how you’re looking at me right now…” Javy’s words pulled your eyes back to his, and you knew what he meant.

His eyes were dark, so intense, focused on you and you could feel his desire for you, palpable. His jaw clenched as he stroked himself, and you wondered absently if you could come just from the sight of him.

Then you realized his hips were moving.

It was subtle, just the flex in his thighs, but you could see a steady motion he was trying to disguise as he pumped into his hand, and you felt it in your core. Your own hips were shifting, then, pressing into the circling motion of your fingers in time with Javy’s movements.

“Are you moving with me, baby?” Javy asked, his voice rough. “Fuck, it should be me; I want you on my fingers, on my thighs; God, honey, the way you move–”

You whimpered at his words, working your hand faster.

“I want that so bad, Jay,” you managed. “You’d make me feel so good.”

“So fucking good,” Javy said, like a promise. “Can you slide a finger in, honey, feel how tight you are.”

You did as he asked, moaning as you clenched down on the intrusion, your hips still rocking. Your body adjusted, and it was good but then you looked over at Javy. His thick cock, a pearl of precum appearing at the tip of it, the hefty width of it, fucking steadily into his hand…his broad hand, wide fingers, also so thick…and the your hand felt small, felt insufficient, and you whimpered, shaking your head.

“’s not enough,” you whined, your voice sounding pitiful, wanton, and Javy groaned across the room. That sound was the most beautiful thing you’d heard, masculine and needy and perfect, and you added another finger, like that would satisfy the ache in your core.

“Did you add another one, honey?” Javy asked tightly. “You need my hands, don’t you, need me to make you feel full? Fuck, baby, you’d take me so well, I know it.”

You fought the irrational need to cry; you wanted that too, wanted it desperately. But you thrust your fingers into yourself, let Javy’s beautiful voice wash over you, and it could be enough.

His chest was rising and falling quickly as his breathing got more labored, and you felt like you were coming out of your skin; you’d give anything to feel his panting breath over your skin, his chest heaving as he worked both of you higher. That hand around his leaking cock, how it would feel over your pussy, playing with your breasts, on your throat–

“You’re doing so good for me, baby,” Javy groaned, his eyes glued to where your wrist emerged from the hem of your shorts. “Those whimpers are killing me, shit, you sound so good. Can’t wait to hear how you’ll sound on my dick, when it’s so fucking deep in that pussy.”

You moaned, you felt so taught, like everything was hanging on Javy’s words, on how good you were doing for him, on how much he wanted you. Your hand was aching, and this was so much sooner than you expected, but you felt your toes curl and your thighs started to tremble as Javy’s thrusts into his hand sped up.

“I’m so close, Jay,” you cried, your head falling back and your hips starting to lose their rhythm, and Javy groaned at whatever he saw when he looked at you.

“Fucking beautiful, honey, you’re so gorgeous. Let me see it, please, come for me. Come for me like you’re going to tonight, after I’ve fed you and fucked you, after we’ve spent all day imagining my dick so deep in that pussy, after I get to taste those moans off your lips, come on, honey–”

Your fingers pressed deep into your cunt and the promise and pleading of Javy’s words with the steady thrust of his hips sent you over the edge. Your back arched and your orgasm screamed through you, summoned by Javy’s gorgeous voice and his thick fingers and he hadn’t even touched you but you felt him, you felt that it was for him, and you came hard, the world blurring as Javy praised you from across the room.

“Oh, fuck, baby, that’s it. So good,” he was panting, but you could hear his pride like a caress. “You did so good. Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, honey, you’re just so pretty like this, fuck–”

Javy cut off and you opened your eyes to see his hips still as he thrust into his palm, and then ribbons of cum spurted over the front of his tshirt.

You clenched down on your fingers, still slowly soothing yourself, your emptiness magnified with the sight of him finding his release. God, he was so beautiful.

His chest heaving, his strong thighs flexed, his brow tense and his eyelashes fluttering, he looked like a work of art, like something divine. His jaw loosened as he finished, his lips parting and a soft sound of satisfaction eased out of him and you felt it settle under your skin.

The kitchen was quiet, the air thick with pleasure and relief and so much unsaid, and your eyes drifted shut, still trying to catch your breath. When Javy laughed again, it was musical, light and sweet. And when you looked over at him again, he wore the softest smile on his face, a million kind things in his eyes as he looked at you.

“Shit, Cross,” he sighed, laughter in his voice. “How are we supposed to make it through the day, now?”

You smiled back, tired and sated, with no idea in hell.

taglist (folks who always humor me, folks who reblogged the last chapter, or folks who sent asks to be tagged): @laracrofted @mxgyver @callsign-fangirl @bradshawsbitch @ninaxwaffles @blowmymbackout @daggerspare-standingby @javihoney @sebsxphia @princessphilly @roosterforme @maddiemunson333 @vallyb @hearttohearteyes @bioodforbiood @gretagerwigsmuse @rae-gar-targaryen @hangmanbrainrot @beyondthesefourwalls @mandylove1000 @blckgrl-sunflower

#javy coyote machado #javy machado #coyote smut #javy machado x reader #coyote x reader #i should very much post this in the morning but i'm not #so i hope someone in another timezone is up and can see it #and that y'all like it omg #i'm just so in love with Javy it's a problem

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