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goldenseresinretriever · 2 months

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One Man’s Trash

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

This oneshot is a companion to the fic, “Snitches Get Stitches” but can be read alone.

Summary: You and Jake consider growing your family

CW: 18+ ONLY, fluff, angst, discussions of having kids and parenting. No use of Y/N.

A/N: Wishing the happiest happiest birthday to @fanficfandomlove 🥰 Nat!!! I love you so much, I hope you enjoy your present~

“Bunny come on, just consider it.”

“Jake Seresin,” you place your hands on your hips and try your best to keep a stern expression on your face as your boyfriend gives you puppy eyes rivaling those of the actual dogs on the screen in front of him. This discussion has been occurring more and more often and you’re starting to feel your resolve slipping. Jake wants another dog. With you so early on in your career, you’d expressed your desire to wait to get married and have kids until you’ve had time to get your feet under yourself, and Jake, ever the respectful partner, had supported and agreed with your decision. An unforeseen side effect, however, was that instead of baby fever, your boyfriend has come down with a severe case of puppy fever. He spent every spare moment looking at shelter websites and showing you photo after adorable photo of puppies up for adoption.

It’s not that you don’t want another dog. You love Pudding but she’s always going to feel like Jake’s dog, no matter how much the two of you love each other, to the point that Jake constantly complains that she likes you more than him. And the house is more than capable of housing another pup. Even with its single-floor layout, the backyard is open to the beach and it's perfect for a dog. And yet despite all that, you can’t help the guilt that gnaws at your heart at the idea of leaving yet another dog at home when you and your boyfriend are busy jetting around the continent for work, sometimes for weeks at a time. Sure, right now you had an ideal situation with your parents being empty nesters just two hours away in Anaheim, and more than willing to babysit Pudding while the two of you were out of town, but that was an arrangement formed out of necessity. Willingly bringing another dog into your anything-but-consistent lifestyle made you feel like a bad parent. It was another reason you were holding off on kids. Jake, of course, who was more used to this lifestyle didn’t feel that same guilt the way you did and he’d even gone so far as to bring it up when you were at your parents’ house for dinner last. Your parents enthusiastically expressed their support and willingness to take care of yet another dog should you choose to get one. You know part of that is due to the fact that your parents have decided that despite being their youngest child, you’re likely going to be the source of their first grandchild. They want to be as supportive of your and Jake’s relationship as possible to get to that point since Charlie is married to his job and Tucker’s currently single and busy with his career.

You watch Jake’s brow furrow and feel a different stab of guilt in your chest. You don’t mean to be so cold to him but you just want him to consider your point of view and reservations. The smart thing to do would be to wait until the off-season at least before taking on a new member of your family, but he’s insatiable. “Fine, Bugs,” he says and you feel your heart squeeze at the coldness in his tone. He closes the laptop and gets up from the counter. You feel frustrated tears making your nose tight. You don’t want to fight with Jake but he can just be so damn stubborn sometimes, and while it’s one of your favorite qualities in him, it’s also been a point of contention in your relationship.

You’re left alone in the kitchen, fighting back the tears until a wet nose presses into your hand and you look down, blinking past the tears to smile at Pudding, who’s gazing up at you with concern in her honey eyes. You squat down and wrap your arms around her fluffy neck, burying your face in her fur as the tears escape. She nuzzles you gently, placing a paw on your bent knee, whining softly in concern. When your tears finally stop, you decide to take some space to breathe and grab your keys and Pudding’s leash. You load her into the back seat of your new SUV. Your heart aches at the memory of Jake surprising you with it for your birthday. He’d been chiding you about getting a new car longer than you'd been dating but you’d been hesitant to spend the money, so after a careful line of questioning and a few times he’d been able to coax you to test drive some cars for the hell of it, he’d surprised you with the forest green SUV that was bigger than you needed but Jake insisted it was a safer option than a car.

You feel your heart pinch again as you drive to the nearest dog park, wishing Jake was with you. Going to the dog park as a little family was one of your favorite things to do on your precious days off and you can’t help but feel his absence like a dull ache in your chest. You hate fighting with Jake. By the time you get to the park, you’re ready to turn right back around and go home but you can tell that Pudding’s excited even if she can tell that something’s wrong.

You manage to play for about an hour or so before wrapping up with a long walk around the park and heading home as the sun begins to sink below the horizon. Jake’s not home when you return and your heart sinks. You’re eager to set things right with him, but you force yourself to cook dinner, leaving some out for him, before climbing in the shower. The tears come again, then, at the idea that Jake may not be coming home tonight. Your shoulders shake with sobs as the shower water mixes with your tears. When you finally leave the shower, the water has long since run cold and you get dressed for bed in a daze, exhaustion sitting heavy on your bones.

When you pad out of the bathroom, however, your heart lifts at the sight of Jake sitting in bed, reading whatever coach’s biography he was currently working through. He doesn’t seem to have noticed your presence, that or he’s ignoring you, and if that’s the case you can’t take it. You approach the bed cautiously, climbing in, and Jake starts, “Hey Bunny, how was your sh-“ he’s cut off as you scoot across the bed at lightning speed and curl against his side, inhaling his scent and letting it ground you even as you shudder against him. “Bunny? What’s going on, sweetheart?” He puts the book down, his full attention on you as you don’t answer, and simply curl closer. Jake pulls his arm free from under you and wraps it around your shoulder and you feel your body relax into his touch.

“I’m sorry, Jake.” You blurt and hate the way it sounds wet and weepy as your tears flow once again. He stiffens underneath you and then his other hand reaches for your chin, guiding your face up to his so he can see the tears coursing down your cheeks, alarm in his eyes.

“Sorry for what? Bunny, what’s going on?” You blink, surprise stopping your tears as confusion takes over.

“For earlier, about the dog,” you blubber tearfully. “I hate fighting with you and I should have been more patient-“

“Fighting with me? Bunny, I’m not mad at you,” he says, surprise lighting his eyes flecked with pain. “Was I frustrated in the moment? Yes, but I’m not mad at you sweet girl, I could never be mad at you over something like that.” You blink up at him.

“Then where did you go? You were gone so long I thought you weren’t coming home tonight,” his eyes widen and he wraps his other arm around you, pulling you closer.

“Oh Bunny, I told you this morning I was golfing with the guys this afternoon and we’d probably do drinks after.” You’d completely forgotten about that. “I figured you and Pudding went out to have a girls’ day, I didn’t realize you were upset or I wouldn’t have gone, I’m sorry.” You shake your head against his chest.

“No, I’m sorry, I should have articulated better and not just assumed you were angry at me. And I really am sorry Jake, about telling you no about the puppy. It’s been just as hard for me as it has been for you.” You pause and Jake seems to know you have more to say so he waits patiently. “I haven’t been fair to you. I know I’m asking a lot to wait before we have kids, and you’ve been so respectful of that. And I know this is a natural compromise but I can’t help but think about how irresponsible it feels right now and… it makes me feel like a bad mom.” Your voice gets softer at the end but you know he heard you as he pulls back so he can look you in the eye.

“Bunny, first I want you to know that you should never feel guilty about wanting to wait to have kids. You’re right, neither of us are ready for that right now. I’m lucky enough to have a girlfriend that travels with me to my games, if I had to trade that for kids? I’d pick you every time. Kids can wait, I want to enjoy you, just you, for a little bit longer. Second, I know you just want what’s best for us and this puppy, and I know I’ve been putting a lot of pressure on you to make this happen sooner rather than later and I’m sorry. I know you’re right about waiting until the off-season and I’m sorry I haven’t been receptive.” He leans in to press a kiss between your eyes. “Third, you’re not a bad mom. You never will be, not when you care this much. You’re not impulsive, you’re level-headed and you care so much it hurts you. You’re such a good mom to Pudding and you’re going to be the perfect mom to our future puppy and kids.”

You sniffle, leaning back down to lay your head on Jake’s chest. “I really do want a puppy, you know? I want to raise them together, and I don’t want to miss a single second of it, which is why I want to wait. So know that as much as you want to get one as soon as possible, so do I, the timing just isn’t right right now.” Jake nods above you.

“I know, sweet girl.” He kisses the top of your head. “You know I love you, don’t you?” You nod.

“I know, and I love you too, Jake.”

“That’s my girl. We’re a team, even when we disagree, remember that. And we’re not going to make any decisions for this team without agreeing about it first, okay?” You nod again and he eases the two of you down to lay down in bed, reaching over to turn off the lamp.

***

Two weeks later, you’re running late. You’re supposed to be meeting Jake and the rest of the team at a restaurant downtown now that the game in Anaheim is over. You would have driven up with Jake but you had some things to finish up in San Diego before the game against the Ducks that evening in Anaheim. The guys had decided to drive to the game instead of taking the jet since it’s basically local and they were anxious to spend a day at home after a long road trip even if they had one last road game before the next stretch in San Diego. You’re wrapping up the last of your preparations, Pudding at your side. She doesn't usually attend away games but your parents came to the game and brought her so she can come home with you and Jake after almost two weeks apart. Jake had offered to take Pudding with him but she’d been glued to your side to his dismay. Now she’s waiting patiently as you load up your gear and various forgotten articles you’d found during a final sweep of the locker room. You swing the trunk shut, ready to be on your way.

You turn to Pudding but she’s nowhere in sight and you panic suddenly, turning to look around the deserted parking garage in fear as you call out for her. You hear a yip in response and follow the sound to a large dumpster in one corner of the garage. Pudding’s jumped on top, balancing on the one open lid, and she’s digging around inside, a distressed whine coming from her as you approach. You’re confused. While you and Pudding have become quite close, you haven’t quite managed to grasp the meaning of all her various noises.

“Pud, what’s wrong, honey?” You ask tentatively as he just whines louder and digs more. You approach the dumpster, trying to see what she’s so upset over. Those aren’t her hungry noises, you know that. When you get closer, she grabs your sleeve with her teeth, dragging you even closer and your brow furrows in concern. Something’s definitely wrong. When Pudding realizes you don’t understand, she huffs before jumping into the trash and you let out a yell of surprise. She digs around in the trash and before you can shout at her to get out her head disappears under the trash. You start calling for her frantically, considering whether you should climb in after her when she starts to resurface and that’s when you hear it. It’s weak and muffled but the whimpers are clear as day once you catch the sound. Pudding’s head comes back up and clutched gently in her teeth is the scruff of a puppy. You let out a cry of surprise as you reach out instantly and Pudding gives you a knowing look before passing you the puppy.

He’s skinny, too skinny and there are cuts and tiny sores on his grayish blue body but you recognize him to be a pitbull puppy and his distressed whimpers and whines tell you he’s terrified. You pull him close, curling around him protectively as Pudding pulls herself out of the dumpster and jumps down next to you. You give him a basic once-over before calling to Pudding and heading to the car. He needs to go to the vet for a proper checkup but from what you can tell, he’s okay.

***

You’re pacing around the exam room. The vet’s cleared the little puppy and prescribed him some medicine to help with the sores. Pudding has climbed up on the exam table and is licking at the tiny puppy lovingly, and he seems to be comfortable with her if not still very anxious. You don’t blame him, it’s a new place with new people and he was abandoned in a dumpster before this. He lets out a little whine and you stop your pacing, making your way over to the two dogs, squatting so you’re eye-level with them before smiling at the little guy. You reach out a hand to stroke his tiny head and he licks your fingers as you giggle. Your heart clenches as you spot the dark patch on his chest that looks a little like a heart.

You’re enjoying the moment when Jake bursts through the door to the room, worry on his face. He turns to you instantly.

“Is she okay, what happened?” You’d texted him letting him know you’d be late or possibly miss dinner due to an emergency trip to the vet. You stand up, giving him a shy smile as you gesture to the little pup curled under Pudding’s chin.

“Meet Taz,” you whisper and he whips his head around in confusion until his eyes find the little gray bundle, widening in surprise. He squats down then, reaching a tentative finger out to stroke Taz’s tiny head.

“Hey there little buddy,” he whispers softly and Taz rubs up against his hand. Jake’s face breaks into a grin and scratches behind his ears gently. “Where’d you find this little angel?” Jake asks, turning to look up at you. You shake your head.

“I didn’t, Pudding did. He was buried in a dumpster in the Ducks’ parking garage. Pain passes across Jake’s face as he turns back to the dogs, reaching his other hand to scratch Pudding’s head.

“Good girl, you did so good,” he praises and you can’t help the smile that creeps up your cheeks. “You’re ready to be big sister, huh?” He asks, turning back to you. “So, Taz?” There’s more than one question in his eye and you nod.

“Like the Tasmanian Devil, since we’re already Bugs and Lola.” You shrug as he grins. “I know we talked about waiting, but I feel like we found him for a reason,” you give him a nervous look, “if you’re ready that is?” Jake’s eyes soften, leaning down to kiss Taz’s little head before standing to wrap you in his arms, kissing your head next.

“I’m ready if you are, Bunny.” You nod against his chest.

“I think I am,” you smile and pull back to see Jake smiling too.

“Then I guess our family’s growing by one,” he says, reaching down to scoop up Taz as he ruffles Pudding’s fur with his other hand, his arm looped around you, and you curl against his side, smiling contentedly.

The door to the exam room opens and the doctor walks in, smiling. “You must be Dad, what’s the verdict?” She looks excitedly between the two of you and you smile, leaning back against Jake as he presses another kiss to your head shamelessly.

“We’re keeping him,” Jake confirms and she grins at him, clapping her hands excitedly.

“Congratulations! I’m having my nurses draw up some paperwork and then we can talk about whether you want to get his preliminary vaccinations taken care of today or if you want to wait to take him to your family vet.”

***

That night you’re exhausted by the time you get home. Jake stopped by the pet store to grab some necessities for Taz while you took the puppies home. You left Taz in Pudding’s care while you hopped in the shower. When you pad back into the living room, Jake’s sitting on the floor next to a smaller dog bed he’s placed right by Pudding’s that Taz is currently exploring while Jake watches. You walk up behind him, pressing your legs to his back.

“Hey, did you get everything?” Jake nods, tilting his head back to look up at you. You return his fond smile as you sit down next to him and Taz nervously trots over to you and you scoop him up, nuzzling him against your cheek.

“Hi, sweet boy, are you getting all settled in?” You coo softly and you can feel Jake watching. He places a kiss to the part of your shoulder that’s bared by his shirt being too big on you.

“See Bunny? You’re not a bad mom.” He whispers against your skin and you feel your heart squeeze. “Thank you,” he says then you turn to look at him, pulling Taz against your chest where he snuggles in.

“For what?” You ask as Jake lays his forehead against yours.

“For growing this family of ours, and for bringing us something that’s truly ours equally.”

“Well it didn’t seem fair that you’re outnumbered by the girls in your own home,” you tease and he bumps his nose against yours playfully.

“Something tells me he’s going to be a momma’s boy and then you’ll all still outnumber me anyway,” you giggle at that.

“Well if it makes you feel better, I think Pudding has the two of us beat for favorite,” you point out as Taz wiggles out of your grip as Pudding comes over to lie on her bed and then he’s attempting to climb onto it beside her. She watches for a few moments before giving in and reaching over to grip the scruff of his neck between her teeth gently and lifting him up onto the bed. He immediately snuggles up against her and she nuzzles his tiny head with her nose.

You see Jake watching them with a fond look in his eye and lean over to kiss his cheek. “You’re my favorite, though. Always will be.” He smiles at that.

“You’re my favorite too, Bunny.” The two of you watch as the puppies snuggle up next to each other and you swear you feel your heart grow a size bigger as your family does too.

A/N: I hope y’all enjoyed seeing Jake and Bugs again and welcoming baby Taz to the Seresin family 🥹💚 (I’m still on vacation at this point, it’s a scheduled post, hope y’all are doing well!)

#snitches get stitches // sdd #sgs // sdd #san diego dogfighters #san diego dogfighters au #san diego dogfighters hockey au #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #Jake Seresin #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #Jake hangman Seresin #hangman x reader #hangman x you #no use of y/n

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goldenseresinretriever · 1 month

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False Confidence: Prologue

Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: The Athletic named Javy Machado the fifth sluttiest player in the NHL last year. He’s a known playboy who leaves every game with a different girl. As far as he’s concerned he’s living the dream, playing his dream job with the dream lifestyle. Unfortunately his friends and bosses don’t agree. At 33, they think it’s time for him to settle down. You’re a kindergarten teacher at an esteemed private school. You don't expect much when you finally accept your colleague’s invitation to attend her husband’s hockey game but when you accidentally get separated in the post-game rush, you find yourself in a compromising situation with the last person you’d ever expected to meet. When his PR rep suggests a mutually beneficial agreement, your hands are tied. How long will you have to keep up the act? And how long will you be able to?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, sports violence, blood probably, angst, fluff, fake relationship, suggestive language, school system inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Y’all I’m so excited for this series it’s not even funny!!! I hope you enjoy it as much as I am!

Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

You stare at the event on your calendar, willing it to disappear into the void. The words “staff meeting” glare back at you as you glance at the clock. Five more minutes. Maybe they’ll cancel. Maybe the sun will fall out of the sky. You nibble your lower lip before you can catch yourself. Your fingers worry the hem of your sweater, keeping time with the thundering of your heart. It’s fine. You’re okay. It’s just a staff meeting. After three years working at Acacia Academy, you’re more comfortable here than you’ve been in any job before, the product of time invested and the aid of a stable schedule, but sometimes you have days like this. Days when the pounding in your heart reaches your ears, echoing like the drum of an executioner signaling your imminent demise.

“Roadie?” Three minutes left and a familiar voice calls out your nickname. You force your lips to curl into a smile as you turn to the door of your currently empty classroom. Your colleague and perhaps your only work friend, Josie Fitch is leaning against the doorframe. She’s wearing the patient, sweet smile she’s always using on her rowdy fourth-grade class. “You ready to go? We have that staff meeting today, remember?” You nod, finding it harder to keep the smile on your face at the reminder of the meeting. Nevertheless, you force yourself to stand, smoothing a hand over your slacks before crossing the room to where Josie’s waiting. She slides her hand into yours, pulling you along after her to the teacher’s lounge and staff conference room.

When you reach the room, it’s already at least half full. Thankfully, Josie takes pity on you and slides into the last pair of chairs in the back of the room, leaving the seats at the front for the stragglers. Dan Jackson, the principal, is standing at the front of the room, hands clasped in front of him and a firm look on his face that makes you struggle not to fidget. Principal Jackson’s gaze drags over the room as the clock strikes three thirty and heaves a heavy sigh before clearing his throat.

“Regardless of attendance, let’s get started. After thoughtful consideration, the school will be implementing a new soft policy. In the face of our upcoming contract renewals and an effort to combat employee fraternization, we’ll be looking at relationship status as a qualification when deciding which contracts get renewed. While a stable relationship is not a hard requirement, as that’s not enforceable under the law, it will greatly help your case for re-employment. Your heart is beating so loudly in your ears that you can barely hear Principal Jackson as he continues. Josie seems to notice your distress and squeezes your hand gently. She doesn’t have anything to worry about since she’s been happily married for twelve years and she’s the mother of two beautiful children who are currently students at Acadia. Not for the first time, you wonder why you didn’t just take a job at a public school. You wouldn’t have to deal with these borderline illegal policies and all the politics that come with working for a private school that’s unregulated by a school board. Unfortunately, public schools are a nightmare for you. Hundreds of students, dozens of teachers, and large buildings make any kind of familiarity almost impossible. During your student teaching years, you worked in a public school and you were constantly on edge leading to your pivot into private schools. Sure the administration is almost always corrupt and the parents are entitled, but at least you know every one of your students and colleagues by name, and as long as you keep your head down, you stay out of trouble. And you’ve done exactly that. Despite the issues Principal Jackson’s speaking about regarding employee fraternization, you’ve been removed from that. No one pays you much attention. Well aside from Jeremy Dickinson.

Jeremy came to Acacia Academy the same year that you did and while you tend towards the fringes of social circles, he’s magnetic and constantly the center of attention. You have a sneaking suspicion that this meeting and new policy is actually a direct response to the negative side effects of said magnetism. Jeremy’s the one that gave you your nickname, Roadrunner or Roadie for short. You’re always dashing from place to place, trying to stay out of people’s way and he joked that you resembled the speedy cartoon character. Now more teachers refer to you by the nickname than by your real name and while it used to annoy you, you’ve taken to appreciating the kind of anonymity that the nickname gives you. If people want to see you as a caricature rather than a person, you’re alright with that as long as their eyes slide over you instead of lingering.

While you’ve been lost in your thoughts, the meeting has come to a close and you slump into your seat as the reality of your situation comes crashing down onto you. Josie’s giving you a concerned look that you do your best to ignore as you stand and head into the mass of people squeezing through the doorway, eager to head home for the day. Josie follows you but doesn’t speak up until you’re back in your classroom. “So, Roadie, what are your plans for the evening?” She’s deflecting, giving you the option to bring up the meeting yourself. You sigh heavily as you start to pack your belongings.

“Looking for a new job, apparently.” You answer with a hollow laugh. She frowns at that.

“You know that policy isn’t about you, right? That’s for people like Jeremy who can’t keep it in their pants. You’ve never dated anyone at school.” You’ve never dated anyone but that’s beside the point. Andrew St. James doesn’t count or so your high school therapist had assured you.

You shrug as you slide your laptop into your tote bag. “You heard Principal Jackson. He wants people in relationships working here. I’m not in a relationship, so I’m at a disadvantage.”

“So maybe you should get a boyfriend,” Josie suggests like it’s the easiest thing in the world and you feel a twinge of bitter jealousy in your chest. As if it’s that simple.

“That’s not going to happen.” You say with a tired shake of your head as you slide the bag onto your shoulder. Josie shrugs but lets the conversation drop.

“If you’re free tonight, you should come with us to the game.” Josie’s been trying to invite you to one of her husband’s games all season. Reuben Fitch is a winger for the newly formed San Diego Dogfighters hockey team here in San Diego. You don’t know the first thing about hockey and sports games are the last place you’d rather be so you’ve casually dodged the invitations over and over but today you’re simply too tired to keep shutting Josie down.

“Sure, why not.” You relent and Josie’s face lights up with excitement.

“Really?! Oh, that’s great, Roadie, the kids will be so excited that you’re coming! They keep begging me to bring you!” The Fitch kids, Jamie and Skylar attend Acacia Academy and thanks to your friendship with Josie and the fact that you’re Skylar’s teacher, you’re all thick as thieves. You’ve babysat for Reuben and Josie plenty of times, giving them some well-deserved time to themselves. As a hockey player, Reuben’s traveling for work almost as much as he’s home, and between that and wanting to be as present of a parent as possible he doesn’t have a lot of time to spend with his wife. Thankfully, Josie takes it in stride, leading her family with a poise you’re constantly impressed by while her husband is away and you’re more than willing to help where you can. While you’ve never been comfortable with your peers, you’ve always been comfortable with children. You think maybe it’s because they don’t expect you to be anything more than yourself. The younger the better in that respect and that’s why you teach kindergarten. Josie gives you the details for this evening, offering to drive you to the arena with them so you don’t have to bother with parking and you swallow hard as you make your way to your car trying to convince yourself that you haven’t just made a huge mistake.

***

You’re starting to wish you hadn’t taken up Josie on her offer. You’re sitting next to Skylar at the end of the row in case you need to make a quick escape. You’re up by the glass and the people in the next section are banging on it as the players zip around on the ice. The kids are caught up in the infectious energy buzzing through the Hard Deck arena. It’s got you dizzy with nerves. One of the Dogfighters slams one of the opposing team against the glass in front of you and you jump, stomach queasy. How anyone could enjoy watching let alone playing this sport is beyond you. You fiddle with the hem of your new sweatshirt that Josie insisted on getting you after the slightly chilly air in the arena was adding to your shivers. The Dogfighters logo is emblazoned on the olive green fabric and it’s ridiculously soft but that’s to be expected given its hefty price tag. You protested but Josie pointed out that she could probably get it discounted and maybe even reimbursed afterward due to her husband’s role on the team. The score is in the Dogfighters’ favor as the other team can’t seem to get on the board. Another player slams into the glass and you jump all over again, realizing this time it’s one of the opposing team shoving a Dogfighter. Despite the fact that he’s most likely going to wake up with an array of bruises you notice that he’s got a fierce grin on his face, dark eyes dancing dangerously as he pushes off the wall and giving chase to his assailant. You suppose you have to love the sport to play it for a living but you’re still struck by his expression long after the game has moved on.

***

The game ends with the Dogfighters shutting out Los Vegas 5-0 and the crowd is in good spirits pushing and shoving as they all try to exit the arena at once. You feel your body get shoved and jostled by a stray elbow and you stumble, righting yourself and realizing you’ve lost track of Josie and the kids. Panic climbs up your throat as you’re carried forward by the crowd as you whip your head from side to side, trying to find your group. You make it through the door and people jostle you every which way as you try and escape the crowd and find somewhere quiet to call Josie. You try to dull the panic as you fight against the stream of people, ducking down hallways, anything to get away from the crowds that are causing your heartbeat to echo in your ears yet again. Finally, you find yourself in some abandoned hallway and fish out your phone, cursing as you realize you don’t have service. You’re about to head back the way you came, anxiety pulsing through your veins when a voice startles you.

“Well, well, you’re definitely not supposed to be here.” You whip around, fear clenching your chest as you spot the man leaning against the wall. His posture is casual but his gaze is electric, curiosity dancing in dark brown eyes. You recognize him as the player you noticed earlier, the one who’d been thrown into the glass. He’s still in his equipment but he’s ditched the helmet, and now you have an unrestricted view of his face. He’s handsome, with a strong jaw and full lips that are currently pulled into a playful smirk. You stammer as you try to find your voice to explain what you’re doing here but he just chuckles, pushing off the wall and stalking towards you like a wolf approaching its prey. You’re pinned to the spot as he comes up, invading your personal space and you can smell the sweat on his skin and something else, a heady, spicier scent that tickles your nose. You’re sure you’re shaking like a leaf as he takes your chin in his hand, frozen from his brazen actions and unable to step away. His eyes search yours before his smirk widens.

“Lucky for you, beautiful, I like a girl who knows what she wants.” His eyes darken and you barely catch the glint in them before his mouth is on yours.

A/N: AAAAAAAAND WE’RE ON OUR WAY!! BUCKLE UP!!! If you’re not on the taglist and want to be, let me know!!!

#false confidence // sdd #fc // sdd #san diego dogfighters au #san diego dogfighters #san diego dogfighters hockey au #top gun maverick hockey au #tgm hockey au #top gun #top gun Maverick #TGM #javy machado #javy machado x reader #javy machado x you #javy coyote machado #javy coyote machado x you #javy coyote machado x reader #coyote x reader #coyote x you #no use of y/n

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goldenseresinretriever · 4 months

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You Catch More Bees With Honey: Chapter 8

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw, blindsided by a team he trusted like family has been traded to the San Diego Dogfighters. Across the country from the place he calls home, Bradley feels lost and betrayed. Not to mention the familiar faces and ghosts from his past that he now has to face every day at work. Bradley’s caught between wanting to show his former team the mistake they made in double-crossing him and wondering if it’s time to hang up his skates after one final season. You’re living your dream as the PR representative for the Dogfighters. When Coach Maverick made a bid to bring his godson to the team, you hadn’t batted an eye. Bradley was a good teammate, and a good player. Unfortunately, the Bradley that shows up in San Diego is nothing like your research suggested. He’s moody, irritable, aggressive, and angry, throwing a wrench in all your careful planning. What’s caused such a drastic change in him? And can you figure out how to help him before he makes a mistake you can’t fix?

Chapter CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, smut, dead parents, mentions of major character death, sports violence, mentions of physical violence, angst, age gap (28 and 38), enemies to lovers, suggestive language, hockey inaccuracies etc. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 7.4k

A/N: This is high-key my favorite chapter so far, lost happening, she’s a long one

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You wake to the sound of the guys collecting their things as they prepare to get off the place. You blink a few times, confused as to why there’s soft fabric against your cheek and you nuzzle the surface, trying to go back to sleep as Bradley’s voice in your ear pulls you out of your drowsy state.

“Time to get up, Honey.” You whine in protest and bury your face in the soft fabric and that’s when the familiar scent fills your nose and you remember what you’ve been sleeping on. You sit up immediately, cheeks heating as you see Bradley’s face, his lips turn into a soft smirk that’s part endearment and part teasing.

“Sorry,” you murmur and he shakes his head, dismissing your apology.

“It was an invitation.” He reminds you and then you realize your arm is linked in is his like you’d been cuddling it in your sleep and you’re embarrassed all over again. You try to slip it out but Bradley tightens his grip on it. “That one wasn’t an invitation, but not an unwelcome intrusion.” Your whole face feels warm. He finally releases your arm and you pull it back, trying to ignore how much you miss the warmth of Bradley’s body. You stand, stretch and a glint of light catches your eye and you follow the shine to a mortifying discovery. Your drool, glistening on Bradley’s sleeve. You yelp in embarrassment, instantly digging in your purse for tissues and grabbing Bradley’s sleeve to wipe your spit off the fabric. He watches you with an amused twinkle in his eye when you finally look up and meet his eyes. You desperately want to slap that cheeky smirk off his face. Instead, you stand up and start collecting your belongings.

Once again, Bradley refuses to let you carry your garment bag, not relinquishing it until you’re entering your shared hotel room. Sure, you’d shared a room with a guy before. Hell, you’d lived with Mickey for a year or two, but Mickey was like family. Bradley? Bradley is anything but. You cautiously enter the main space, letting out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding at the sight of two queen beds. Sleeping on Bradley’s shoulder on the plane is one thing, but sharing a bed with him is something else entirely. You’re not quite ready to cross that line yet.

You watch Bradley hang your garment bag in the closet as you set your purse and laptop bag down on the bed closest to the door. You perch on the edge as you take your laptop and clipboards out to check your schedule for the rest of the day. The boys have to head to the Avalanche’s arena for practice soon, and you’ll be tagging along to meet up with their PR rep to familiarize yourself with the interview schedule for tomorrow night. You haven’t even taken the time to temporarily slip off your heels and you’re already in full work mode. Bradley emerges from the bathroom and leans against the wall of the hallway. You feel his eyes on you as you scribble away, making note of important locations and timings on your clipboard so you don’t have to bring your laptop to the rink. He doesn’t feel the need to comment so you remain in comfortable silence until both your phones chime with a fifteen-minute warning before the bus leaves.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom where you take a moment to pull your hair up into your signature ponytail. Examining your reflection in the mirror has you remembering that Cyclone once again called you by your mom’s name and you feel the itch to pull all your hair out. You’ve spent so long running from her memory and yet you always find yourself back at square one every time you stare too long in the mirror. There’s a knock at the bathroom door and you don’t respond, still locked in an intense staring contest with your reflection. You hear the knob turn and Bradley enters, your eyes flick to his in the mirror and a question lingers in their depth.

“Does it get easier?” Your voice is a whisper, like a breath that’s just managed to escape your lips. Something unreadable swirls in his eyes and his fingers twitch absently at his side and you feel the urge to lace them with yours. He hesitates for a moment before he nods.

“Eventually, yeah. At some point you’ll have lived longer without her than you did with her and then… then it feels… not easier but it doesn’t hurt as much.” You nod back, trying to wrap your mind around it.

“Do you miss them?” You know it has to be harder for him, he’s lost both his parents. You could call your dad right now if you just decided to pick up the phone.

“I never knew my dad. Well, I guess I did, but I don’t remember him at all. But my mom? I miss her every day.” He takes a deep breath and you reach your hand back, your fingers barely brushing his. “I used to wish I could forget her because I thought it would hurt less but now I know better. Trying to keep her alive isn’t delusion, it’s devotion. It’s not a crime to love the people we can’t hold anymore, it’s a blessing. There’s not a lot of feelings that can transcend death like that.” You take a sharp breath at the word as it passes through his lips. You almost envy the easy way he says it like it doesn’t hurt him anymore. His fingers brush back against yours and curl around yours. His thumb brushes across the back of your hand in soft, repetitive strokes and you squeeze his palm like it’s a lifeline. If you’re hurting him, he doesn’t let on, just continuing to hold you like an anchor as your heart is buffeted along on stormy seas.

You stay that way, watching each other through the mirror until a firm knock on your door makes you jump. Rather than dropping Bradley’s hand, however, you pull it closer, startled by the knocking that serves as a last call for the bus. “We should go.” You sound out of breath and Bradley nods, but neither of you makes a move to let go. He squeezes your hand firmly before letting go to grab his gear and you’re breathing heavily as you do your best to dismiss the heat in your cheeks.

***

You’re exhausted. You’ve spent the whole day coordinating with Colorado’s PR to make the preparations for tomorrow’s match and all you want to do is get back to the hotel and go to bed. You trudge out to the bus where the guys seem to be in better spirits. You overhear them making plans to hit the town tonight and it only makes you more tired. You’re climbing onto the bus when your heel catches in the ridges in the step and you feel you lose your balance and you’re too tired to stop your fall, resolved to your fate in face planting when a firm grip on your waist catches you, hoisting you back to your feet.

“You okay, Honey?” Bradley’s gruff voice tickles your ears and you fight the urge to melt back against his solid chest that you can feel behind you.

“Just peachy,” you mutter as you find your footing and kick your heels off. You’re exhausted and couldn't care less what people think right now. You bend down to scoop them up but freeze as your butt brushes against Bradley’s crotch. Your cheeks heat instantly as you stumble forward at the same time that Bradley stumbles back as if the contact had burned you both. You decide against an apology and simply scoop up your shoes and all but sprint onto the bus. You collapse into an empty seat, but your relief is temporary as Bradley sits down next to you. “I… I didn’t mean… I’m sorry.” You blubber and Bradley just reaches up to guide your head against his shoulder like he did this morning.

“Rest, Honey.” The command is simple but effective because you’re pretty sure you fall asleep before the bus even leaves the parking lot.

***

When you wake up, you’re horizontal. You blink the sleep from your eyes in confusion and your eyes adjust to the lack of light in the room. You’re still in your dress but you’re no longer on the bus. You run a hand across the bedspread absently as you focus on the twinkle of city lights outside the window. They cast the room in a dim light along with the lamp in the corner. It had been early evening when you’d left the stadium, the sky just beginning to pinken but now it's pitch black. The clock on the bedside table tells you that you’ve been asleep for around two hours. Your eyes fall on the lamp by the window that’s illuminating the chair where Bradley’s sitting, reading a book. You swing your legs over the side of the bed, sitting up and stretching and he looks up. You think you imagine the way his eyes roam your body as you arch it, banishing the sleep from your limbs.

“Sleep well?” You nod as you continue to stretch out your limbs. You’re dying to change into your pajamas and few yourself of the stiff material of your dress.

“How’d I get up here anyway?” You ask as you pad over to the window and take in the view of the city.

“I moved you with my mind.” You turn to look at him surprised to see a bemused smirk on his lips.

“Very funny. You didn’t have to carry me, you know.” He simply shrugs in response.

“You were clearly tired and you didn’t seem like you were waking up anytime soon.” You nod quietly, hoping that the dimness of the room hides the heat climbing your cheeks.

He stands, stretching in a mirror of what you’d just been doing and you let your eyes wander as his muscles ripple under the simple black t-shirt that he’s wearing. “Shall we head out?” He asks simply and you can’t help the way your stomach drops in disappointment.

“Out…?” You ask weakly.

“Yeah, it’s still early.” He glances at the clock. “Get changed.” You suppress a groan of frustration.

“It’s the night before a game, you can’t drink.” You argue and he arches an eyebrow.

“Who said anything about drinking? I’m talking about dinner.”

“Oh.” Your response is punctuated by your stomach letting out a loud growl and Bradley gives you a pointed look. “Fine, fine, let me just touch up my makeup and I’ll be ready to go.”

“You’re not going to change?” He arches an eyebrow as he follows you towards the bathroom, pausing at the closet to remove a long coat. You sigh.

“I don’t have anything except my clothes for tomorrow and my pajamas so this is going to have to do.”

“Well at least grab your coat.” You nod, stepping past him to grab it from your garment bag. You dig through the collection of suits you’ve brought and realize you’ve made an error. Letting out an exasperated groan, you lean your forehead against the frame of the door. You abandon the closet to the bathroom to touch up your makeup. When you’re ready you grab your purse and join Bradley where he’s waiting by the door. He looks up from his phone, a frown instantly creasing his forehead. “Honey, where’s your coat?”

“In my closet back in San Diego, apparently.” You shrug as you cross your arms across your chest defiantly. Bradley sighs and shrugs off his coat, handing it to you but you shake your head. “I’m a big girl, Bradley, I’ll be fine.” He gives you a skeptical once-over.

“Honey, you’re wearing a dress that doesn’t reach your knees and barely has sleeves.” He reaches out to run a knuckle along the sheer fabric of your sleeve to accentuate his point. You suppress a shiver at the feel of his finger through the fabric. You scoff softly, reaching down to pinch the fabric of your flesh-toned tights pulling it away from your legs as Bradley’s eyes widen.

“I’m perfectly fine.” You give him a firm look and he just shrugs, tossing his coat over his arm instead of putting it back out.

When the two of you get outside you understand why because you’re shivering as soon as the night air hits you. Bradley sighs in exasperation as he drapes his coat around your shoulders. It’s comically large on you but at least it’s warm. Your eyes train on his now bare arms and you frown at him. He seemed unbothered by the cold. “Aren’t you cold?” He gives you a pitying look.

“Honey I spent half my life in Virginia and the other half in Pennsylvania, this cold doesn’t bother me.” You pout up at him, following behind him as he makes his way down the street.

“I’ll have you know I grew up in Connecticut and then went to college in Wisconsin.” You have to scamper behind him to keep up while holding onto the coat so it doesn’t fly away or fall off and he notices, slowing his stride so you can keep up.

“Could have fooled me.” He replies and you grumble at him. The two of you are waiting for a crosswalk when he eases the fabric of the coat off your shoulders and you whimper as the wind cuts through the sheer material of your sleeves and you whimper at the loss as he slides the coat back on before holding it open in invitation. You’re too cold to argue and you curl against his side. Even in the November air, he’s as warm as a furnace.

The two of you continue walking like that in comfortable silence as Bradley occasionally checks his phone. Finally, you stop in front of what looks to be a pizza place. He holds the door for you and you scoot out from his coat into the warm interior of the restaurant that is indeed a pizza parlor. A sign encourages you to seat yourself so you beeline for a cozy booth in the back. You’re with an NHL player, you may be off the clock but you know better than to sit by any windows. “Not a fan of windows?” Bradley asks as he sits across from you.

You shrug. “I am, but so is the paparazzi.” He raises his eyebrows in surprise like this is the first time he’s considered that. A waiter comes by and takes your drink orders while providing you with menus. Bradley orders a basket of garlic knots without even glancing at the menu and you set your menu down as the waiter leaves, fixing him with a curious stare.

“Have you been here before?” He nods, picking up his menu to peruse it.

“Me and a couple of my teammates used to come here every time we were in Denver.” He explains and you try to hide your surprise. You’re aware that the Bradley you’re seeing here is very different from the one that played for Philadelphia but it’s hard for you to imagine Bradley willingly going out for dinner with his teammates.

“You could have invited some of the guys to come with us.” You suggest and he shrugs.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet.” Or is they’d even want to come. You can basically hear the unspoken words that float in the space between the two of you. “Maybe next time.” He resolves half-heartedly.

“Well, maybe it’s better that you just brought me.” You point out as you turn back to your menu. He looks up from his at you. “That way if it sucks, you can keep your dignity.” He scowls at you.

“It won’t suck.” You shrug nonchalantly, a playful smile dancing at the corner of your lips.

“That remains to be seen.”

***

The pizza doesn’t suck, in fact. It might be the best pizza you’ve ever had. You end up letting Bradley order since he’ll probably know what’s best and he delivers in spades. You feel warm from the inside out after stuffing yourself with hot cheese and bread. You sit back, a sated smile on your face as Bradley polishes off the last of the pizza.

“Did it suck?” He asks, a soft smirk on his face as he regards you practically boneless in the booth across from him. You shake your head. “Use your words, Honey.” His voice is low and gravelly and a shiver runs down your spine.

“I think that was the best pizza I’ve ever had.” You fall silent again before you continue. “I think we should move to Denver.” He chuckles at that.

“You’d never survive the cold.” He points you and you glance out the window, frowning absently.

“I absolutely could.” You pout at him. “I’ve lived in the cold before, remember? Plus I used to skate, I’d be fine.”

“Even if you would, you shouldn’t. The sunshine suits you.” You feel your cheeks heat at the offhand compliment. The two of you stare at each other for longer than what you’re sure is deemed appropriate until the waiter comes back with the bill. You reach for your purse but Bradley’s already handing the waiter his credit card. He waves aside your protests. “You came with me, you paid with your company.”

“So I’m a prostitute now?” You arch an eyebrow and Bradley rolls his eyes standing and extending a hand to you.

“I don’t know what universe you live in, but I pay my prostitutes.” He says matter-of-factly as he helps you to your feet. You release his hand and waggle your outstretched palm at him.

“Tens and twenties will be fine.” You grin and he snorts.

“Honey, you’re worth hundreds, don’t sell yourself short.” Your face heats up again and your heart is threatening to beat out of your chest.

You swallow hard and lead the way out of the restaurant. Bradley follows behind you and once you’re back out in the cold, he tucks you back into his coat under his arm. The two of you walk in silence for a bit until you reach the hotel. Once you’re in the elevator, you break the silence. “Does that make Cyclone my pimp?” Bradley groans and pulls you tight against his chest and you let out a squeal of surprise.

“Cyclone needs to stay the fuck away from you.” He practically growls into your ear and you shudder against him. It’s starting to become too much, the compliments, the teasing, the warmth of his body against yours, the way his breath fans across your ear as he growls into it.

“Or what,” the words pass out of you like they’ve been knocked out of your lungs with all the air when he pulled you close.

“Or else I’ll make him.” Bradley’s voice is no less rough as he once again rasps against the shell of your ear. Another shiver wracks your body and Bradley pulls you impossibly closer. You can feel the rise and fall of his chest through your back. “Always shivering, Honey, what’s got you feeling so cold?” He rasps, his fingers rubbing warming circles against your sides and you have to hold back a moan. The elevator doors open, saving you from answering as Bradley herds you to your door. You fumble to free your purse to find your keycard as Bradley plucks his from the pocket of the coat and unlocks the door, and the moment you hear the click he’s pulling you inside.

Before you can escape his arms, he’s crowding you against the door, face-to-face at last. His deep whisky eyes search yours for something and then he presses his forehead to yours and your breath catches. You’re sure he felt it against his own given that you’re practically sharing air. “I asked you a question, Honey.” He whispers and you hear yourself whimper in response. You watch Bradley’s eyes darken at the sound and he lets out a groan. His hand reaches up to cup your cheek, devastatingly gentle even as his beautiful irises are swallowed up by black. He strokes your cheek, waiting for you but the words have died on your lips so you simply surge forward, planting your chapped lips on his.

He kisses you back with a ferocity that almost brings you to your knees. Even amidst the desperate press of your lips, you feel the gentleness in his touch and his words come back to you. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” You whimper against his lips as his tongue darts out, asking for entry that you grant him greedily. When Bradley’s tongue sweeps into your mouth your legs do actually give and you feel his arms drop to pull you close. They wrap around your waist and as you kiss him with a matching amount of ferocity you feel him squeeze your thighs gently and you jump, letting his hands shift to grab full handfuls of your ass and you moan into his mouth. He presses you back against the closed door and you blindly grind your hips against his torso causing him to groan against you. He finally breaks the kiss and you whine at the loss even as he presses your foreheads together again.

“Honey, before we go any farther I need to know that you’re okay with this, and kissing me doesn’t count. I need your words, pretty girl.” You whine again nuzzling your nose against his.

“Bradley, need you,” you’re so out of breath that you barely manage the “please.” You try to grind yourself against him but his grip tightens, holding you in place. Your brows furrow in frustration and you pout at him. But he simply places a soft kiss on your lips before carrying you across the room to his bed.

Rather than drop you, he lays you down almost reverently, keeping you close and you relish in the warmth coming off him in waves. You reach up, pushing at that damned coat of his and he lets go of you to shed it. Before he can get his hands back on you, you’re pushing his t-shirt up, exposing his golden skin that makes no sense since he’s always lived where it’s cold. Your mind conjures up the image of him in his underwear on his balcony under the San Diego sun and you let out another whine. Bradley chuckles, taking the hem from you and yanking it over his head, shaking his dark curls free as he tosses the shirt somewhere behind him.

You don’t know everything, but you know plenty about men. The only thing they care about is their pleasure. If you get off in the process it’s an added bonus but it’s not their goal. If you want pleasure, you have to take it yourself. Over the years you’ve gotten good at it. If they want to play the game, you can play too.

Then he’s back down on you, fiddling with the belt on your dress and your hands are right next to his, pulling it open and squirming to pull it free, tossing it to the side. You’re ready to rip off the stupid buttons of the dress but Bradley takes your hands in one of his, kissing them before planting them above your head. You squirm but his hold is tight and you relax against the bed as his other hand reverently undoes the buttons one by one until they're all undone and all that’s standing between him and your body is the blue fabric. He meets your eyes with his and your heart stops. Even through the darkness swallowing the familiar brown, you can see what could be his heart, served up on a silver platter for you and it's foreign. No man’s ever looked at you like that, especially in bed.

You swallow hard, leaning as far up as his hand on your wrists will let you and kiss him deeply, sliding your tongue into his mouth. It’s messy and frustrated and when his grip loosens on your wrists you pull them free, threading them through those damn curls of his, pulling him closer. You’re practically grinding your mouth on his as you push up and flip your positions, pushing Bradley’s body beneath yours as your dress falls open in the fray. You kick it aside as you clamber onto Bradley’s lap.

You finally break the kiss and Bradley’s cheeks are ruddy with exertion and for a moment he looks like the boy he probably once was instead of the bear of a man that he’s become. His hands come up to grip the flesh of your hips, massaging it as they slide up to cover your lace-covered breasts. The pressure is heavenly and you let out a moan as he squeezes and palms the sensitive flesh. He reaches behind you, unclasping your bra and Bradley casts the fabric aside, hands returning to grope your bare skin. Your eyelids flutter shut in pleasure at Bradley’s ministrations. He pinches a peaked nipple and you let out a whine of desperation, shifting your hips against the rough fabric of his jeans, searching for friction. When his rough tongue laves over the angry skin, you release a shaky breath. You let out a shudder as the weight of your feelings crash into your rib cage at the same time that Bradley’s teeth scrape against the sensitive skin. You’re pulling away from him then, sliding down his body to kneel between his knees. You must be losing your edge if you’re so easily melting under his touch. The control you’re so used to having in these situations is slipping out of reach and you need to take it back. His arms reach for you, to pull you back to him, perhaps to wring more pleasure from you, but precedent says otherwise. There’s no way that’s what he wants. What good would it do him?

“Condom.” You rasp and you hate how desperate and wrecked your voice sounds. “Do you have a condom?” He pushes up on his elbows, nodding, sweat sticking a few curls to his forehead and looking like a disheveled god.

“In my wallet, in my jeans.” You nod quickly, undoing his belt and sliding your fingers into his both waistbands, peeling down his jeans and underwear at once. You fumble for the wallet in the pockets, tossing it to Bradley as you come face-to-face with his cock. The outline you’d seen last night didn’t do it justice. You reach out to grasp the angry red flesh and give it an experimental stroke that has Bradley throwing his head back even as he passes you the condom. You tear the wrapper with your teeth gracelessly, rolling it down his considerable length. The length isn’t what you’re worried about though. Bradley’s cock, like the rest of him, is large, more specifically, wide, and girthy. You swallow hard but refuse to lose your nerve. You crawl back over his body, looking up to see his deep brown eyes watching you, searching for something you can’t decipher. They harden suddenly, his familiar stubbornness rearing its head. “Easy Honey, you’re not ready for that yet. Need to work you up to that, c’mere.” Well, that’s new. You’ve never had a guy question whether he would fit, that’s usually saved for your internal monologue and every single time your nerves are wrong. Your body was made for this, you’ll be fine. That much you know.

He reaches for you but you dodge his grasp, positioning your hips over Bradley’s, bringing your hands down to move the crotch of your soaked panties to the side and guiding Bradley’s length into you.

The air is knocked out of your lungs as you sink down on him. The angle is brutal and unforgiving as your body stretches to accommodate him. You’re not sure if you cry out but suddenly Bradley’s hands are on your arms. He’s sitting up as much as he can without shifting his cock in you, potentially causing you more discomfort. There’s evident worry and frustration in his wide eyes as he searches your face. “You crazy girl, what were you thinking?” You can’t do much more than let out a stuffed whimper because you feel so goddamn full. You’ve never felt so full in your life. Then Bradley’s arms are lifting you and your hands go to his shoulders immediately, nails digging into the skin there as he eases you off of him. Going from being so full to being empty is like a shock to your system and you hold onto Bradley like he’s the only thing keeping you from spinning off your axis. He carefully arranges you in his lap, strong arms wrapping around you, grounding you as you bury your face in the skin of his chest, relishing in his familiar scent. This is completely new territory for you so you latch onto the one thing you know for sure. You feel safe in Bradley’s arms.

“Honey?” His voice is soft, and tentative as he calls for you and you turn to look at him, resting your chin on one of his pecs. “You okay?” He asks, reaching a knuckle to brush across the apple of your cheek. “Did I hurt you?”

“I’m not sure.” You admit, heat rising in your cheeks.

“Can I check?” His words are soft and once again he surprises you. He’s worried about your discomfort, your pain. Even while he’s probably not feeling too well himself. You can still feel Bradley’s cock, painfully hard against your thigh and you feel guilty. You nod, hesitantly and Bradley lays you down on the bed again.

This time he’s the one sliding down your body. His eyes ask permission when he reaches your panties and you nod again. He slides the scrap of lace down your legs before gently spreading your thighs. You feel overwhelmingly exposed and make to close your thighs in embarrassment. His strong hands stop you and your breath hitches as he presses a soft kiss against the skin of your hip.

This is all new territory for you. Sure you’ve sought your own pleasure but you’ve never actually had a man down there. The last time you’d been in a relationship that would have even entailed that kind of intimacy, you’d both been young and inexperienced, stumbling around each other’s bodies with no idea what you were doing. Your breath hitches again as Bradley’s hands shift to your inner thighs, spreading you even wider, exposing your soaked core to his gaze. His hands are steady, familiar as they spread you open and you have to fight a moan. His brows are furrowed as he examines your exposed flesh. “Does any of this hurt?” He asks and you’re yanked back to the reason that he’s down there in the first place and you shake your head. He gives you a pointed look and you swallow.

“Sorry, no, no it doesn’t. I think I’m okay.” He takes your words, nodding as he considers them. Then you’re arching off the bed as his tongue licks a stripe up your spread slit. You don’t recognize the sounds you’re making as you gasp for breath. Your vision swims with pleasure and your body is scrambling to keep up as Bradley, seemingly pleased with your reaction, dives into your pussy like a man starved. You feel you’re unraveling at your very core. You’ve never felt pleasure like this. Not at your own hands and definitely not at the hands of any man. The sensations are so intense that you don’t even notice the telltale signs of your orgasm until Bradley eases a thick finger past your weeping entrance and you’re cumming, harder than you ever have in your life. You think you might be sobbing, babbling a chorus of his name. Bradley doesn’t let up, letting you ride out your orgasm as he pumps that finger in and out of you.

Eventually, it becomes too much and you whine from overstimulation and he stills the finger in you as he crawls back up your body. His other hand brushes away the sweat-soaked strands of your hair that cling to your face as he places a sweet kiss to your lips.

“You okay, Honey?” You try to answer him verbally, you really do, but your lips can’t form the words so you nod weakly. He chuckles softly, peppering your cheeks and jaw with soft kisses. You feel like you’re floating outside your body and then his finger is moving again. You whine in pleasure despite your exhaustion and he murmurs sweet praises against your skin between kisses. “That’s it, such a good girl for me. Taking my finger so well. Gotta stretch you out baby, so you can take my cock.” You moan at his words and he eases a second finger into you. You gasp at the sensation as he scissors them, stretching your body with a gentle precision. Then he’s curling them, and you see stars. If you weren’t so fucked out, you’d probably have laughed at how easily he found a spot that every other man you’ve ever been with hasn’t been able to.

Before you know it, you’ve reached your climax again, grasping and gripping his arms to ground yourself as you unravel at the edges. He kisses you through it and you can taste yourself on his lips and tongue. “Hey Honey,” he whispers once you’ve come down and you whimper in response. “Think you can take my cock now or are you too tired, baby?” His knuckles stroke against your cheek and you gaze at him, a look of awe on your face. He’s wrung two orgasms out of you, all without finding his own pleasure and he’s giving you the option to stop? His erection has to be causing him more than just discomfort at this point and yet he’s willing to stop. You feel tears swim at the edge of your vision as you shake your head.

“No, need you, Bradley. Need to feel you.” You reassure him, coaxing him to take his pleasure. He rolls so he’s propped over you, and then he’s easing into you, ever so slowly, his brow furrowed with the effort of holding back as he searches your face for any hint of pain or discomfort. He’s right, though. He’s stretched you out and while you still feel ridiculously full, you don’t feel the way you did earlier. Bradley’s got you, he’s going to take care of you. He’s proved that he wants to and he can.

At the first roll of his hips, the two of you let out strangled groans. Your hands find purchase on his muscles shoulders, already marked from your earlier endeavors and you hold on, riding out the waves of pleasure that he draws out of you as he finally chases his own end. The room is filled with the sounds from your mouths and your bodies as you meld together, both working toward the same goal. Bradley takes you by surprise as he snakes his hand between your joined bodies and when the pad of his finger finds your clit, your head falls back against the bed. Even now, he’s concerned with your pleasure. You didn’t think you could cum again but Bradley’s proving you wrong as your body goes limp on the bed, and he chases his high. Minutes later he’s collapsing beside you, careful not to crush you beneath his weight as the two of you lay in silence, only the racing of your hearts and the staccato of your breath punctuating the silence.

You’re not sure how long you lay there in silence until he eases his cock out of you and you whimper at the emptiness. He’s removing the condom and throwing it away, retreating to the bathroom. As you wait, alone, the weight of what you’ve just done sinks in. Javy’s voice comes back to you then and shame washes over you. “Best case scenario you fuck one out, your feelings go poof.” That’s the problem. Your feelings haven’t gone anywhere. If anything, they’ve just gotten stronger. What if that’s not the case for Bradley? Suddenly you feel so alone, lying bare on his bed. You’ve never felt like this before and you’re overwhelmed. Before you know what you’re doing, you’ve bolted upright, and you’re pulling your underclothes on, grabbing the robe from the closet and wrapping yourself in it, the door to your room clicking shut behind you before you can think about it anymore.

Your mind is racing as you struggle to remember the room assignments. You pray you’ve got the number right as you dash down the hallway and bang on the door.

Javy swings the door open, a smirk on his face until he takes in your appearance and it instantly fades into concern and anger. “Did he hurt you?” His voice is hard, protective in a way you’ve never heard from him before. You shake your head. “No, no, I just… can I come in, Javy, please?” His gaze rakes over your trembling frame once more before he moves out of the way, and you dash into the empty room. Earlier today after the roommates had been reassigned, Javy had drawn the long straw, getting a room to himself and he’d been gloating all afternoon. Now you’re secretly thankful that he couldn’t shut up about it. You’re standing in the middle of the room, awkwardly trembling as he comes back in. He directs you to sit on the made bed while he perches on the one he’d clearly been occupying. You perch yourself on the edge, making sure the robe keeps you covered.

“Okay Zam, can you tell me what’s going on, sweetheart?” He clearly doesn’t believe your earlier statement about Bradley.

“We had sex.” You blurt, ripping the bandaid off. “And, and you said that if we fucked one out that the feelings would be gone but mine didn’t, they actually got worse and I don’t know if Bradley’s are gone and I just-“ you stifle an exhausted sob that threatens to break free.

“Oh sweetheart,” the hard look on his face has melted into a softer expression. “That only applies when the feelings are just lust, and maybe they were at first but something tells me both of you feel a lot more than that.” You blink at him, shock running through you. The sob breaks free and then there are tears running down your cheeks. “Where’s Bradley?” He asks, gently.

You shrug. “He went to the bathroom and I had a chance to think about what just happened and I freaked out so I ran.” His eyebrows go straight up.

“And you don’t think he’s probably freaking out now that he can’t find you?” Your wet eyes widen and you realize what it looks like from Bradley’s perspective.

“Oh my god, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to hurt him.” You’re crying harder now, the exhaustion catching up to you and Javy reaches out to take one of your hands in his.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay, Zam, I promise. Why don’t you calm down and get cleaned up in the bathroom, and I’ll go talk to Bradshaw? I’ll grab you some pajamas and anything else you need and you can sleep in here tonight.” You nod as you sniffle, tears still streaming.

“Zam, you know you’re safe here, right? I’d never do anything to hurt you, you know that?” Your heart aches at the sincerity in Javy’s voice as you nod.

“I know. You’re not actually interested in me, I know that.” You give him a watery smile at that as you shrug. “You call me sweetheart, but that’s what you call your sisters.” You see the surprise cross his face.

“Well damn, Zam, you’re good.” He chuckles, reaching out to ruffle your wayward hair. You give him your room number and retreat to the bathroom to clean yourself up.

***

When Bradley comes back from the bathroom, confusion mixes with dread as he sees the empty bed. He’s got a warm, wet washcloth in his hands, intending to help you get cleaned up but you’re nowhere to be seen. Your dress is still crumpled on the floor but your undergarments are gone. Was it not good for you? Usually, he thinks he’s good at reading emotional cues during sex, but it has been a while. He’d have thought that after three orgasms you would have been satisfied. The blissed-out expression on your face when he left for the bathroom had suggested that you were. He pulls on his underwear and sits on the edge of the bed, confusion warring in his brain. What could have possibly caused you to bolt? He’s not left wondering very long when a knock at the door jolts him out of his thoughts. He crosses the room quickly, swinging the door open without a second thought, expecting to see your face but instead he’s met with an unexpected surprise. Javy Machado is standing at his door.

He schools his expression immediately, regarding the other man warily. “Look man, before you say anything, she’s okay.” Bradley lets out a breath he doesn’t know he’s been holding even as confusion clouds his mind. How does Javy know that? Did you go to him? Why? Suddenly he’s seeing the two of you at game night, Javy’s arm around you on the porch and him pulling you into his arms later. He stiffens. Is Javy your boyfriend?

“Okay, I can already see the wheels turning so I’m gonna go right out and say we’re not dating, we’re not anything. Just friends. Yeah, I flirted with her but I just wanted to rile you up, it seemed fun at the time. And I have no idea why she came to me, but she’s freaking out and I wasn’t about to turn her away.”

Bradley’s heart aches at the idea of you feeling scared all alone. He silently curses how long he waited for the sink water to warm up. “Look, maybe it’s not my place, but she likes you man, like a lot. And I think it’s freaking her out. I don’t know why, I don’t really know anything about her personal life, that’s Mickey’s area of expertise but as an older brother, it looks like she’s having trouble managing the size of her feelings and she’s tired on top of that. I’m gonna let her sleep in my room. If you’re worried about me trying anything, I would never but I can sleep in here if you’re really worried about it. She was freaking out so I said I’d come talk to you and get some of her stuff.”

Bradley wants nothing more than to storm over to Javy’s room and scoop you into his arms. He wants to hold you together as you fall apart but if that’s what you wanted you wouldn’t have run and so as much as he hates it, he has to give you space. If Javy’s right, and there really is something between you two worth protecting, he has to let you come to him. He’d been too upfront tonight and probably overwhelmed you when you’d already had an exhausting day.

So Bradley fights every single one of his instincts and goes back into the room, leaving Javy in the doorway. He may not be your boyfriend officially but he’ll be damned if he lets Javy go through your things. He finds your pajamas and a clean pair of underwear. He debates picking one of your suits too but he knows you probably have a specific one picked for tomorrow and would prefer to choose yourself. He ducks into the bathroom for your toiletries before bringing the small collection of items back to Javy with your phone and charger on top. Javy takes them and Bradley watches him leave down the hall. He wants nothing more than to see you right now, but he knows he has to wait for you. You’ll have to come and get your stuff tomorrow morning so he has that to look forward to for now and that’ll have to be enough.

A/N: Bradley nation… how are we feeling?

#you catch more bees with honey // sdd #ycmbwh // sdd #san diego dogfighters #san diego dogfighters au #san diego dogfighters hockey au #tgm hockey au #top gun maverick hockey au #TGM #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #Bradley Bradshaw x you #Bradley Bradshaw #bradley rooster Bradshaw x reader #Bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster x you #no use of y/n

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goldenseresinretriever · 6 months

Text

You Catch More Bees With Honey Masterlist

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, dead parents, drunkenness, alcohol consumption, violence, sports violence, blood probably, angst, fluff, eventual smut, age gap (28 and 38), enemies to lovers, suggestive language, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

A/N: This series isn’t going to be out for a while but I wanted to drum up some excitement as well as have a place for me to link any blurbs I post regarding the characters!

Main Series: COMPLETED

Teaser

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Special Projects

Saving the Bees with Honey and Bear!

Blurbs

Zamboni Outfit Inspiration

Bradley Bradshaw as Nick Miller Quotes

‘Twas the Night Before the Rangers Game

Bradley in the bedroom

Bradley’s kinks

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goldenseresinretriever · 4 months

Text

Daddy’s Queen

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

This oneshot is a companion to the fic, “Snitches Get Stitches” but can be read alone.

Summary: Jake wants you to participate in a family tradition.

CW: 18+ ONLY, fluff, smut, swearing, suggestive language, oral sex (m!receiving) No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: This was written as a part of @sailor-aviator ‘s Christmas Writing Challenge!

“Jake we’re going to be late!” You call from the bathroom where you’re currently drying your hair, still wrapped in a towel.

“We’re just waiting on you, Bunny.” He says, entering the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe to look at you. Once upon a time, you’d shy under his gaze at you in so little but this may as well be a part of your routine every morning. Today, however, you really don’t have time for him to bend you over the bathroom counter.

That thought leaves your mind as you turn to see what he’s wearing. You snort out a laugh, almost dropping the end of your towel. “Jake, what IS that sweater?” He looks down at it innocently.

“I wear this every year to the holiday party, Bunny.” Your eyes bug out at the cavalier admission. Jake’s sweater is green with bright red letters across the front that spell out “Daddy” lined with obnoxious golden trim around them. You’re about to ask exactly whose daddy he thinks he is when Pudding appears in the doorway in a matching sweater that reads “Daddy’s Princess” and you can’t help the way your heart aches fondly at the sight of them.

“Okay, it makes more sense now that I’ve seen Princess P.” You admit as you cross over to the walk-in closet to get dressed. Jake remains respectfully in the doorway, giving you privacy as you put on your underclothes and pull on his favorite pair of jeans, searching for a sweater to go with it. Just as you’ve selected one that you think will match Jake’s enough, he enters the closet, shaking his head gently as he plucks the sweater from your hand and returns it to the rack, reaching over your head to his row.

“Not so fast, Bunny, did you really think we’d leave you out?” He hands you another sweater that matches his and Pudding’s, with the words “Daddy’s Queen” emblazoned across the front. You can’t help the snort that escapes your lips.

“You can’t be serious.” You raise an eyebrow at him as he hands you the sweater and you take it hesitantly.

“As the grave, sweetheart.” He says, a soft smile on his face. “It’s our first Christmas as a family, I want you to join in on the traditions.”

“Your Christmas tradition is being called Daddy…?” He shrugs nonchalantly, his smile twisting into a playful smirk.

“I mean, if you insist.” He’s full-on grinning now and you swat at his chest, laughing as you pull on the matching sweater. You roll your eyes at his antics as you pose in the sweater.

“What do you think? Do I look like a queen?” You give him a little spin and he chuckles softly as you gaze back at him over your shoulder.

“A spitting image, Bunny. You look absolutely beautiful.” You scoff at his sweet words.

“Jake I’m wearing an ugly, and dare I say itchy, Christmas sweater, there’s no way I look beautiful. I look ridiculous at best.” He makes a show of scrutinizing you before he shakes his head, holding out a hand to you, leading you into his arms without hesitation where he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Nope, you look positively beautiful to me; radiant, a goddess amongst men.” You snuggle against the itchy fabric on his chest, content to soak in the love radiating off your boyfriend.

“Jake, we’re going to be late.” You whine with absolutely no bite, making no move to escape his warm embrace. You’re almost disappointed at the idea of having to leave the comfort of your shared home to socialize with your friends and colleagues for the next few hours.

“A queen is never late, everyone else is simply early.” You giggle as he quotes the Princess Diaries into your hair, pressing another kiss there. He’s just about convinced you to linger a moment longer when the beeping of the oven yanks you back into the present.

“The cookies!” You yelp as you disentangle yourself from Jake’s arms and sprint towards the kitchen, slipping along in your socked feet. Jake and Pudding follow behind you and Jake swoops in to take the tray out of the oven. You scrutinize them as he replaces the oven mitts before joining you. “What do you think? Do we have winners?”

“I’ve never lost a cookie contest with Meemaw’s recipe, Bunny, and I don’t intend to start this year.” The two of you had spent the morning whipping up a batch of Jake’s meemaw’s famous Christmas cookies to take to the Christmas party at Mav’s house. Everyone had been instructed to bring cookies that would be judged until the best Christmas cookies were identified. “Your majesty, who would you deem our greatest competition?” Jake asks as he starts fishing around for a Tupperware big enough to house the army of cookies while they cool.

“Are you kidding? Mickey and Bob, easily. Do you remember the tamales Mickey brought to Thanksgiving? I think I cried actual tears. That man has a gift.” Jake groans as he produces a huge Tupperware from a cabinet.

“Fuck, I almost forgot about those. Imagine if Mickey’s Abuelita and Meemaw met up? I think that would be death by a home-cooked meal.” Jake has a faraway look in his eyes and you can’t help but indulge the fantasy.

“Where does she live? I’ll buy the tickets.” You sigh before turning back to your cookie inspection. “Is Javy a good cook? He’s from NOLA, right? Surely he has to be.”

“He’s not bad with the microwave if that’s what you mean.” Jake snorts and you gape at him. He shrugs. “Momma Machado? A fabulous cook. His aunts, his grandmother? Excellent, you would weep. Hell, I’m sure even his sisters are incredible cooks, but Javy? The man could burn water. He got spoiled rotten by all that good cooking growing up so he never bothered learning.”

“Why am I not surprised?” You giggle as you pick at one of the uglier cookies, pinching off a bit and groaning as you drop it onto your tongue. “Oh Jake, these are positively sinful.”

“Oh, I don’t think they’re the only thing that are positively sinful.” He smirks, leaning against the counter across from you. You roll your eyes, going to him as if drawn by a magnet. You hold up your crumb-covered fingers to his lips and giggle as he wraps his tongue around the digits, cleaning them, his eyes darkening with a promise for later. You shiver slightly and go to step back before Jake’s arms trap you, pulling you against his chest. “Now where do you think you’re going, your majesty?” His eyes glint with lust as you sigh, trying desperately not to give in to him.

“I’m going to the Christmas party. You coming, Daddy?” You cock your head, pouting up at him slightly and you watch his cocky expression fall in shock at the title and you squirm free of his hold as it falters, sprinting for the flat closet to grab your shoes. You hear heavy footfalls behind you and squeal as Jake’s arms wrap around your middle, swinging you up into his arms. You thrash around, laughing as he buries his face in your neck, peppering it with kisses.

“Oh I’m coming, your majesty. But you’re going to have to do something for me first since you created yourself a little problem.” He gives you a pointed look and you glance down at the noticeable bulge in his jeans.

“Nothing small about that problem, Daddy.” You say coyly, trapping your lower lip between your teeth as Jake groans and you watch his cock twitch under the taut material. “We’re going to be late.” You reiterate and Jake just presses his forehead to your temple, groaning again.

“Bunny, you’re killing me.”

You coo softly at his plight and stroke his cheek gently. “Just let your queen take care of you.” You slip out of his arms as he places you safely back down on the floor and you slip down to your knees on the hardwood, gazing up at him through your lashes. Later you’ll be able to take all the time you want but for now, you’ll have to be quick. Thankfully Jake’s already painfully hard when you slip him out of his jeans. You coo gently at the sight of the angry red tip that’s leaking precum before licking a generous stripe up his length. You roll up the sleeves of your sweater before spitting into your palm and using your hands to spread the slick over his shaft. “Jake?” You ask softly and he cracks open his squeezed eyes and you could melt at the love in them. “Try not to mess my hair up too bad, okay?” He chuckles as he brings a strong hand to cup your cheek gently.

“I’ll do my best, Bunny.” You get right to it then, once again reminded of how late you’re about to be, taking him as best you can, bobbing your head around his swollen shaft as best you can as you try to relax your throat to take him deeper. Jake groans above you, his hand on your cheek sliding into your hair, guiding your head where he needs you. You feel saliva and drool pooling at the corners of your lips and panic at the thought of it dribbling onto your new sweater but Jake’s one step ahead of you, his other hand coming to catch the slick from falling. You give him the best appreciative look you can manage with your mouth full of him that he returns with a soft smile glowing with love before you hollow your cheeks, sucking at his length and he hisses at the pressure. You can feel him starting to twitch in your mouth and you keep up your ministrations until he’s spilling down your throat. You pull off his length, cleaning him up with gentle licks doing your best not to overstimulate him. When you finish, you lay your cheek against his jean-clad thigh, blinking up at him, a sated look on your face mirroring him.

“Merry Christmas, Daddy.” You murmur and Jake strokes your pink cheeks as he gazes down at you with a look of pure adoration.

“Merry Christmas, my queen.”

***

Jake helps you get cleaned up and thankfully your sweater remains unscathed even if Jake has to change his jeans due to him sacrificing them to wide your drool on. You pack up the cookies while he gets changed and when he comes back you hand him the box, snagging his keys and dancing ahead to the garage. “I’m driving!” You declare as you make your way to the truck. Jake deposits the cookies safely in the passenger seat as you help Pudding into the back before coming back around to swing you into the driver’s seat.

“A queen on her throne.” He remarks playfully as he buckles you.

“I prefer my other throne.” You toss back coyly and he gives you a look that promises that you’ll spend plenty of time on it later that night before going back to the other side of the truck.

“You better start driving or we’re going to be more than just late.” He remarks as you pull out of the driveway.

“Whatever you say, Daddy.” You chirp and you hear him groan next to you as you giggle.

A/N: Merry Christmas, you filthy animals 😉

#snitches get stitches // sdd #san diego dogfighters #san diego dogfighters au #san diego dogfighters hockey au #sgs // sdd #jake seresin x reader #Jake Seresin #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman x you #hangman x reader

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goldenseresinretriever · 6 months

Text

Snitches Get Stitches: Chapter 5

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: Jake Seresin, golden boy of the NHL and Captain of the Dallas Stars makes headlines when he unexpectedly signs with newly-formed San Diego Dogfighters. When your future seems at the verge of crashing down, you receive the opportunity of a lifetime to become the team physician for the Dogfighters. You never expected to be working directly with your favorite hockey player. Jake has a secret and you have a job to do. Will he be able to trust you enough to help and will you be able to trust him with your heart?

Chapter CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, allusions to marital issues, medical inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies, legal inaccuracies. No use of Y/N. Any opinions on NHL teams expressed by my characters are not my own and describe fictional versions of these teams.

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: If you haven’t checked out the fun little blurb I did that’s an unofficial Chapter 4.5, be sure to check that out! Our first glance at Jake’s POV during some scenes in a Chapter 4! I’ve been really excited to write this one! We meet some new characters and get a tease of my Maverick series. I’d love to talk about it more if people want to hear about it. More info on that in future chapters 😉 In terms of release, I’ll either be writing it after or at the same time as Bradley’s story, I’m not sure yet.

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

You glance at the GPS on the screen of your car again as you scan the street ahead of you. It’s situated on a quieter side of town and half the homes have beach access. Not at all where you’d pictured a single star-athlete in his early thirties to be living. It’s not like you expected a seedy bachelor pad riddled with used condoms and syphilis, but this was a neighborhood for the settled. Cookie cutter families walk along the sidewalks pushing strollers and chatting amongst each other. Kids ride their bikes unattended, safe in their suburban utopia. You and the well-loved car that you’ve had since you were sixteen are feeling slightly out of place in this picture-perfect neighborhood as if you’re a hopeless puppy tracking mud on a freshly cleaned kitchen floor. The GPS chimes, alerting you that you’ve reached your destination. The house on your right looks a lot like the others on the street, a cozy suburban beach house. The driveway is empty so Jake’s truck must be parked in the garage. You pull into the free space, sighing as you scan the home for any clues about its owner. There’s none to be found. Curtains shield the inside of the house from view, and there’s no furniture or decoration on the porch. The only evidence of the house even being lived in is the freshly mowed lawn. You frown hoping that Jake hired someone to do that. The idea of him pushing a mower with his knee in its current state fills you with irritation. The idea of Jake, shirtless and sweaty pushing the mower fills you with more irritation. You shake your head to clear away the image, before getting out of the car, and heading up the short path to the door. You hesitate before knocking, wondering if you should have just stayed in the car and texted him to come out. You decide against it since he has his leg to worry about plus wrangling a dog. Speaking of Pudding, you’re saved the trouble of deciding to knock as a chorus of barking alerts her owner to your presence at the door. You hear a muffled voice amongst the barks as the door swings open to reveal Jake wrestling with the collar of a Tibetan mastiff with a glassy caramel coat who’s doing her best to get away from her owner so she can give you a proper welcome.

“Pud, come on, you need to settle down. Come on girl.” He urges the giant fluffball of joy. You drop to squat in front of her.

“Hey girl, it’s nice to finally meet you.” You reach out a hand for her to sniff only to have her instantly soak it with slobber as she gives it an enthusiastic lick that lets you know that you’ve long since passed the friendship test. You laugh and fish into your purse, pulling out a ziploc bag with a dog treat in it. At the sight of the treat, Pudding begins wagging her tail so hard she almost takes out her owner. You extend it to her and her giant tongue sweeps it up easily, and you watch it disappear into her gaping maw and she looks at you expectantly, her tongue lolling. “Sorry sweet girl, I don’t have anymore.” You say with a chuckle, reaching out to ruffle the fur on her head affectionately. She noses at your hand as if to say that all is forgiven. Finally, you turn to her owner who’s been watching the two of you fondly from where he’s casually leaning on the doorframe. “Hey.” You offer him.

“Hey, Bugs, you sure clean up something pretty.” You can’t help the flush that paints your cheeks at the compliment. You’re not wearing anything fancy by any means but you suppose the t-shirt and dress shorts are a far cry from the scrubs you wear at work.

“Thanks, you too.” He’s wearing a short-sleeve button-down and shorts of his own. The brace on his knee is clearly visible and you like how honesty looks in him.

“I’m glad you like it, I picked this shirt just for you. It really makes my great tits pop, don’t you think?” He puffs out his chest for emphasis and you want to die from mortification.

“Please forget I ever said that.” You plead.

Jake looks at you incredulously. “Of course not, Bugs. I don’t think I’m ever going to forget that.” He’s wearing a shit-eating grin. You scowl.

“Come on, Lola, let’s get going or we’re going to be late.” He laughs behind you as you turn to start heading to the car.

“Hey!” You don’t turn. “Bugs, where are you going?” You turn to see him still standing in the doorway, a confused look on his face.”

“To my car? Since I’m driving us?”

“Bunny you can’t possibly think we’re all gonna fit in there with my leg and Pudding.”

You glance from the pair in the house to your car and frown as you realize he’s right. Jake and Pudding join you and Jake nods at your car. “Pull out and I’ll open the garage and you can park in there. We’ll take the truck.” You look at him, absolutely flabbergasted.

“Jake, I can’t drive your truck!” He arches an eyebrow.

“And why not?”

“Are you kidding? It’s HUGE!” He chuckles, waggling his eyebrows at you.

“I’m sure you can handle it, sweetheart.” You feel your face flush at the innuendo.

“But you told me to remind you…” You try once more even as you feel your resolve slipping and start accepting the reality that you’re going to have to drive Jake’s behemoth of a truck.

He arches an eyebrow. “Remind me of what, Bunny?”

“You told me to remind you to never let me drive your truck.” You grumble as you unlock your car, getting ready to move it into the garage. He laughs at that and you try not to preen at the sound.

“That’s my Bunny, always so responsible.” He teases, patting your head gently. “Well now you’ve reminded me but my mind’s still made up, so hop to it, Bunny, and I’ll grab my keys. He ambles back into the house as you pull back out of the driveway, idling as the garage opens and you pull into the free space next to the truck.

Jake’s waiting for you, and he extends his hand to you, holding his keys. You hide your smile at the faded hockey stick keychain as you take them from him. Then you turn to face the beast, swallowing hard. Jake places a gentle hand between your shoulder blades, guiding you to the driver’s side. He pulls open the door for you and you gape at the distance from the ground to the driver’s seat. You’re about to make a fool of yourself but at least you aren’t wearing a dress. Before you can even attempt the climb, though, Jake puts his hands on your hips and lifts you into the driver’s seat effortlessly. “Oh.” It’s all you can manage as his hands disappear as quickly as they appeared. He helps you adjust your seat and the mirrors and while you still feel overwhelmed by the size of the truck compared to your little car, you start to feel slightly at ease, but that could be the warm smell of leather and the cologne you’ve come to recognize as Jake’s. Jake makes his way around the truck, opening the back door so Pudding can jump in, before getting in himself. You’ve started the car and are familiarizing yourself with the controls. You take a deep breath, sitting back for a second, your hand resting on the gear shift, ready to move it into reverse. Jake’s hand covers yours, squeezing gently.

“You’ve got this, Bunny. I trust you.” It’s those words that give you the courage to shift into reverse and back out of Jake’s driveway as he leans over to hit the garage door control above your head.

***

Thirty minutes later you’re making your way through another suburban neighborhood on the other side of town. While Jake’s neighborhood looked unassumingly middle class, however, this one is clearly home to families in a significantly higher tax bracket. It makes sense, given the fact that Maverick is a multimillionaire but it’s not like he rolls up to work in a limousine every day. Instead, he drives a beat-up Kawasaki and you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen the man wear a tie.

“Are Mav and Penny married?” Jake asks, his knees bouncing into the bottle of wine he has clutched in his left hand. You’d made a pit stop on your way, a tasteful and way too expensive flower bouquet in his other hand.

“No idea.” You say as you continue shamelessly ogling the real estate. “I don’t think I’ve seen a wedding ring, but I’ve never really looked.”

“Google doesn’t say he is.” You peek over to see the bouquet abandoned in Jake’s lap as he types into his phone, brows tight in concentration. “Have you met Penny?”

You shake your head before realizing he’s still looking at this phone. “No, I had planned to meet with her after the physicals were over to draw up individual nutrition plans for each of you. I haven’t run into her at the arena so the opportunity just hasn’t presented itself yet.” Jake nods absently, still scrolling.

“I didn’t even know we had a nutritionist.” He mutters.

“Holy shit.” He finally looks up as you murmur the words. The house ahead of you is gorgeous. It sits on top of a hill, nestled into a private culdesac. A massive yard wraps around the circular street, dotted with trees. A wide driveway leads up to what has to be a four-car garage. The house itself is a sprawling modern Victorian style complete with a circular pointed tower. It’s a house that looks both like it’s been transplanted from the northeast and right at home in Southern California. You’re both awestruck as you pull the car up the driveway and shift into park. You suddenly feel extremely underdressed as you take the bouquet from Jake’s lap and follow him up the pristinely paved walkway. As you climb up to the excessively large porch, you feel yourself relax. Up close the house is well-loved, with chipping paint and mud streaks far too old to scrub out. You smile softly at the thought of all the memories it must hold as Jake rings the doorbell.

A beautiful brunette woman answers the door, a big smile wide on her face. “Hey there! You must be Bugs and Jake. I’m Penny, it’s so nice to meet you both!” You go to shake her hand but she opts for a hug instead and she smells warm and homey in a way you can’t place. She leads the two of you through the house, taking the wine and flowers from each of you. The kitchen is a myriad of bright dishes and rich smells and you catch sight of Mav manning a grill through gorgeous wide windows overlooking a sprawling deck.

“Is there anything I can help with?” You ask as you watch Jake beeline for the back door to offer the same assistance to Maverick. Penny waves you off.

“No no, I’m pretty much done here, just getting things to the table. It’s so good to finally get to meet you, Bugs. I’ve been busy helping Ice with the administrative side of things so I haven’t been at the arena since you started. I look forward to working together.” She flashes you a motherly smile and you’re reminded of home.

“I’ve been meaning to reach out and introduce myself since I was hoping we could collaborate on getting the boys set up with individual nutrition plans but I figured it would be better to get their initial physicals out of the way so we had the most up to date information to work with. As a physician, I’m strongly against restrictive diets, especially for athletes, but so I think a more general nutrition plan would be a better approach.” Penny nods.

“Pete mentioned you’re extremely dedicated to your patients.” She gives you a conspiratorial smile as she directs her gaze out the window to where Jake and Mav are and you feel yourself flush even as your heart aches as your eyes latch on the knee brace.

“My first priority as a physician is always my patients and making sure they get the best possible care. The fact that there are physicians out there who put their own selfishness ahead of their patients kills me. Jake’s been hurt in a way that the Hippocratic oath should never have allowed.” You shake your head, your hands clenching on the chair you’re holding onto. “He put his trust in the people hired to prioritize his care and they betrayed him. I refuse to let that happen again.” Penny sets a gentle hand on your clenched one.

“He’s in good hands now.” You try to believe her, but the events from Cyclone’s office yesterday make that hard. A wet nose nudges against your hand and Pudding gazes up at you with worry in her eyes and you stroke her head softly. You’re saved from responding by Jake and Mav coming into the kitchen, arms laden with plates of meat. You dash to help them, taking a plate from Jake and giving him your best scolding look.

“SIT.” You pull out a chair, setting your hands on your hips. A thump across the room draws both your attention as Pudding sits. You snort a laugh before going back to glaring at Jake who’s still standing. “Pudding has been kind enough to prepare a visual aid, now if you don’t mind.” Jake rolls his eyes but sits all the same. “No unnecessary strain until we have a treatment plan in place, mister.” You give him a sympathetic look. You know how hard it is for athletes to give up control, this isn’t your first rodeo. “You’ll be back up and running in no time.” You say gently. “Baby steps, right?” He nods and you notice a softness in his eyes that you try not to think about any longer than you have to. You head back out with Mav to grab the last of the plates, while Jake chats with Penny as she brings dishes from the kitchen to the table.

As you’re all getting settled and starting to eat, Jake pipes up. “So how long have you two been married?” You fight the urge to snack him with the rib you’re holding. After the conversation in the car, you thought it had been evident that Penny and Mav are NOT married.

Maverick chokes on his wine and Penny laughs. “Oh, we’re not married.” Jake looks genuinely confused and you wonder if he’s maybe missing a screw.

“But all the family pictures in the hallway…” He trails off sheepishly. You’d barely been in the hallway for a minute or two, how did he notice family pictures, and get enough time to stare at them to conclude that Mav and Penny were married?

“Oh, that’s my daughter, Amelia, she’s from my first marriage,” Penny says with a chuckle. “We divorced a long while ago, before Pete and I got together.”

“And you two never got married?” Jake pushes and you wonder why he’s so curious.

“Well, that’s because, technically speaking, I’m still married.” Mav joins the conversation and Jake’s jaw drops so hard you’re surprised it doesn’t hit the table.

“You’re MARRIED?”

Maverick chuckles at Jake’s reaction. “Yup, a long time ago and we separated on good terms, but never finalized the divorce. There was never a reason to, so yeah I guess I’m still married.” He rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly.

“Who is she?” The question is out of your mouth before you can stop it. “Sorry, that was so intrusive you don’t have to answer that.”

Mav waves you off. “You probably know of her, actually. She’s an NHL coach too.” The pieces fall into place all too quickly and you find yourself blurting out.

“Dare Mitchell is your WIFE?” It’s not rocket science. There are hardly any female coaches in the NHL, and there’s only one with the last name, Mitchell.

It’s Jake’s turn to choke on his wine. “Dare Mitchell? You’re married to THE Dare Mitchell?” His eyes are wide.

Maverick chuckles.“The one and only.”

“Holy SHIT.” Jake sits back in his chair, shocked into silence. You don’t blame him. Dare Mitchell is the best of the best. She’s been coaching for the Pittsburgh Penguins for the last 30-some years and is responsible for leading them to nothing short of five Stanley Cup wins. Her nickname, Dare, stands for Definitive Authority on Rink Education, or Referee Ejection depending on who you ask. She’s a force to be reckoned with and one of your personal heroes. Sure you were a Stars fan but every self-respecting hockey feminist worshiped the ground she walked on. She’d been the first female NHL coach when she started as an assistant coach for the Philadelphia Flyers and she’d not only broken the glass ceiling but now even the most misogynistic cynic puts respect on her name.

It shouldn’t have been such a shock that she was married to Pete Mitchell. Their careers had overlapped during his brief time with the Flyers before transferring to Anaheim but most people tended to forget that part of Maverick’s career. With the exception of the event that led to his move to Anaheim in the first place. If anything had ever been public about his relationship with or marriage to his coach, that had probably been buried by the tragedy that occurred shortly after. And now they were separated apparently. You wonder when that happened. Dare Mitchell was infamous for the lack of information on her personal life. Plenty of men had jumped to labeling her as undesirable and “impossible to deal with” due to her lack of a partner and seemingly single status. When asked about it in interviews, while she typically ignored such blatantly sexist questions, she occasionally responded along the lines of placing her career first, but now you know otherwise.

“I can’t believe Dare Mitchell is your wife.” Jake has come back to the conversation. Mav looks mildly uncomfortable at all the attention and you feel the need to change the subject for his sake.

“So, Maverick you mentioned wanting to talk about our game plan going forward?”

“Right, yes.” He claps his hands, sitting forward and you all return to your food. “Bugs, first I want your personal assessment of Jake’s condition. I know you mentioned some of that in Cyclone’s office earlier, but I think we should go over it with Jake present.” You nod in agreement, wiping your mouth and taking a sip of wine to clear your throat.

“Jake, we talked about this briefly this morning but you need to stay off your leg as much as possible at least until we’ve gotten all the necessary scans and tests done. I’m in the process of contacting some colleagues to get those scheduled as soon as I can.” You had a sneaking suspicion of how well that was going to go but you didn’t have much time to dwell on it now, there was a bigger issue at hand. You hesitate, wondering if now is the best time to bring this up. “I wanted to ask whether you’d be comfortable with me reaching out to your former physician on the Stars to get your initial test results. I just want to see them so we can compare them and get a better picture of your situation and how it's progressed. I don’t expect them to be particularly compliant, but I’m planning to ask Zam for guidance on getting the files without having to get lawyers involved. That’s only if you’re comfortable with me doing that.” You swallow. You know Jake’s had a long day and you can’t imagine how tired he must be, you know how exhausted you feel.

He nods slowly. “Do whatever you need to do, Bugs. Like I said, I’m in your hands now. If you think it’s necessary, do it.” You give him a small smile as your heart squeezes at the faith he’s putting in you.

“Are you actually planning to sue your former physician and coach?” Mav interrupts.

“WHAT?” This is news to you.

Mav puts his hands up in surrender. “He mentioned it in Cyclone’s office when he threatened to sue you for negligence.” Jake makes a low noise that sounds like a growl at the reminder of the events earlier in the day and you flush slightly at the memory.

“Honestly, I think I kind of checked out during all that…” you say, averting your eyes to your hands where they're fiddling with a rib bone on your plate. Jake’s hand comes into view as he takes one of yours and gives it a gentle squeeze and your eyes almost pop out of your head as your brain short circuits. You’re frozen, mortified at his audacity to do that in front of two of your colleagues let alone his coach. You pull your hand from his grip, in what you hope is at least a slightly dignified way, depositing both hands in your lap, clasping them tightly.

“I don’t know.” He admits. “I think it’s definitely something to consider. It depends on how much of a case I have. We’ll probably have to get that comparison between my records to know for sure. Legal stuff isn’t really my strong suit.” He shrugs.

“You should talk to Zam about it, she’ll be the best person to ask,” Mav suggests, a fond smile crossing his face at the mention of the team’s PR rep. Jake nods in agreement. “Bugs you were saying?”

“Oh right, well that means no practice for Jake. You can do upper body work but no leg stuff period. I also think we could talk to Cyclone about hiring you a driver for the foreseeable future-“

“Or you could just drive me.” Jake interrupts nonchalantly.

“What?”

He shrugs. “You drove me here tonight, why not? I don’t want you having to deal with Cyclone any more than you have to, and suggesting hiring another employee will probably piss him off.”

“What doesn’t?” Maverick mutters under his breath. “It’s not such a bad idea, though. You’ll both be working together almost exclusively since Jake can’t practice so this way you’ll always get in at the same time.” You consider throwing the rib bone at Maverick.

“See, Bugs, we’ve got Coach’s blessing, what do you say? I’ll throw in breakfast on me.” He waggles his eyebrows like he’s just made an irrefutable offer. You sigh, realizing this isn’t really up for debate anymore, and Mav has a point.

“As long as you’re ready on time. Three strikes and you’re out.” You give him a pointed look. Jake breaks into a huge grin, offering you a mock salute.

“Aye aye, cap’n.” You roll your eyes.

***

The sun has long since disappeared from the sky as you, Jake, and Pudding make your way back to the truck. You’re walking slightly behind him so you can observe his movement as he awkwardly shuffle-hops with the brace keeping his knee stiff. You have a good feeling about his scans. For an untreated grade three tear, he doesn’t seem to have too much of a problem getting around. Today was an overall success but it’s created a brand new problem. Jake may trust you now but now he’s crossing professionalism lines left and right and you can’t help the way your anxiety threatens to choke you at the idea of Cyclone getting the wrong idea. Not to mention the fact that your body seemed to have a mind of its own when it came to him. You’ve been out of the game for too long. So much so that your body reacts naturally to his touch. You’d thought you’d have no problem avoiding his advances given the precarious nature of your situation but here you were being betrayed by your own body and mind. And now he had talked you into spending even more one-on-one time together outside of work. You needed to lay down some ground rules.

You approach the truck where Jake’s patiently waiting by the driver’s side door, holding it open for you. Your cheeks flush as he scoops you up and deposits you in the seat without a moment’s hesitation before handing you the keys and hobbling around the other side of the truck and letting Pudding into the back while you start the engine. You swallow hard, drumming your fingers on the wheel nervously as you back out of the driveway. The two of you wave to Maverick and Penny on the porch as you drive away. Not even five minutes pass when Jake breaks the silence.

“What is it?”

“What’s what?” You don’t take your eyes off the road, your fingers drumming harder.

“You’re nervous.” You finally turn to glance at him and he gives a pointed glance in the direction of your drumming fingers. You stop the motion immediately, hesitating before you say.

“We need to talk.” He nods, encouraging you to continue. “I appreciate you trusting me, Jake, I really do, but if we’re going to be spending this much time together especially with me driving you now, I need to set some ground rules.”

“What kind of rules, Bugs?” His expression is guarded when you glance at him. You sigh.

“Jake I realize things are going to be complicated because we’re simultaneously coworkers and you’re also my patient, but like I’ve told you, my first duty is always to my patients. That being said, I need you to understand that you’re my patient first and my coworker second. That relationship takes precedence for me, at least while you’re injured.”

“And what about our friendship?”

“What?” You’re caught off guard by his question.

“Where does our friendship fall into your list of priorities? I’m your coworker, I’m your patient, and I was starting to think I was your friend too.” He pauses. “Or was that an incorrect assumption?” Your heart skips and your breath catches.

“No, uh, I mean yes Jake I would say we’re friends… or at least on our way there.” You trip over your words as you struggle to focus on the road and Jake’s brazen words. “I want to be your friend.” The words escape against your better judgment and you see the faint smile that ghosts Jake’s smile. “But that’s going to have to be strictly outside of work. Look, I’m pretty sure Cyclone thinks we’re dating or halfway there because he’s kind of a paranoid control freak in case you haven’t noticed.” You give a nervous laugh. He doesn’t know the half of it. “And if he's convinced? That breaks my oath as a doctor, Jake. I won’t just lose my job, I could lose my license.” You swallow hard. “So if you could just…” you trail off, not knowing how to phrase it.

“Keep my distance.” He finishes.

“More like just keep things professional.” He chuckles at that.

“Bugs, all my previous physicians were old men. That’s never been a problem before.”

“Then pretend I’m an old man.” He barks a surprised laugh.

“Bugs.”

“Lola.” You turn to look at him as he grins and winks.

“You’re one smoking hot old man.” Your face flushes beet red and you whip your head back to the road, unable to look at him.

“Relax, Bunny, you did say you thought I had great tits this morning so I figured I’d even up the score before we go full professional mode.” You can hear his grin. You roll your eyes, your face still blazing.

You’re quiet for a while before you interrupt the silence “Thank you, Jake.” He waits so long to answer you start to wonder if he heard you.

“For what, Bunny?”

“For all of it.” You pause. “Especially for respecting my boundaries.”

“You heard me earlier. We’re a team. If you go, I go, so I can’t let you leave that easily, Bunny.” He pauses. “After all, I’m a fighter.” You smile at that.

“Yeah? Me too.” You give him a shy look and he returns it with one of pure warmth and the silence is comfortable as you drive him home.

A/N: THEYRE FRIIIIIIENDS!!! But can they STAY just friends~ Jake entering his passenger princess era 😌

#snitches get stitches // sdd #sgs // sdd #san diego dogfighters hockey au #san diego dogfighters au #san diego dogfighters #top gun maverick hockey au #tgm hockey au #top gun maverick #tgm #jake seresin x bugs #Jake Seresin #jake hangman seresin #Jake Seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x you #no use of y/n

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goldenseresinretriever · 11 days

Text

False Confidence: Chapter 3

Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, angst, fluff, fake relationship, suggestive language, school system inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: Welcome back, y’all! Sorry it’s been so long, I’ve been busy 😭

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You feel the butterflies that have finally settled in your stomach flutter to life again, a jumbled mess as your breath catches. You know it makes sense. His simple request. You’re the one who said you were out of practice. And he’s right, the media caught you with his tongue down your throat. They’re not going to be fooled by chaste kisses on the cheek and pecks on the lips. You need to get comfortable around Javy, and while you hadn’t come here with the intention of kissing him tonight, the sooner you rip off the bandaid, the better. “Okay,” you say and you hate how small your voice sounds. Javy gives you a mysterious smile as he leans in. Your heart beats quicker the closer he gets, and your eyes flick down to those full lips of his and you’re so fixated on them that you don’t realize that he’s stopped. When you realize that his lips haven’t moved in quite a while your eyes flick up to his deep brown ones and your cheeks heat at the intensity of his gaze. “What?” You sputter as you do your best not to pull away from his closeness. Your hands are trembling and you can feel discomfort settling in your bones. He leans in closer suddenly, lips barely a breath from yours and his nose brushes yours and you let out an indignant squeak, jumping slightly.

“Relax, Meep.” His voice takes on a lower timbre and you feel a shiver run down your back.

“Meep?” You squeak and he chuckles. You feel the vibration of the air on your lips. He reaches a hand up then, making sure to hold it in front of your gaze for a solid five seconds so you process it before he runs a knuckle across your cheek.

“My overexcited little roadrunner,” he muses. “Always squeaking.” Your brow furrows as you realize what he’s referring to.

“You’d be squeaking if you were surprised too.” You stutter out, irritation seeping into your tone even as anxiety continues to claw at your heart from his closeness.

“Oh, would I?” He asks, quirking an eyebrow playfully and then just as you’re choosing your next words carefully, he closes the gap and presses his lips to yours.

The first time you’d ever been kissed you were in the bed of Andrew St. James’s truck. You’d felt completely alone even with dozens of cars and trucks parked around you. The movie playing up on the giant screen was background noise as Andrew’s lips pressed against yours. Your lips were slightly parted in surprised pleasure. It had all felt so surreal, being curled against him as you experienced a first that you’d awaited giddily your entire life. Even your wildest dreams you’d never imagined that it could be like this. Even when Andrew had invited you to the movie, butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the idea. Even when you’d nervously picked out the soft yellow sundress that you knew you’d get chilly in with the cool spring evening air, dancing through your bedroom full of whimsy and hope.

Javy tastes like blueberries. The tart taste of the berries scattered through the loaf that the two of you had just indulged in making your lips tingle as he eased you into the kiss. This kiss was different from yesterday. While yesterday’s kiss had been hungry and desperate, this one was soft, delicate, and simple. A press of lips against lips and you can almost smell the rust and grass from your first kiss. It’s sweet, and you almost convince yourself that it’s real but the tart taste keeps you grounded in bittersweet reality. When he pulls away, he studies your face curiously and you struggle not to squirm under the intensity of his gaze. He leans in before you can react and kisses you again. You start, surprised and he’s pulling away before you can adjust to the feeling. You scowl at him and he chuckles.

“What was that for?”

“You need to not tense up so much when I kiss you. Right now you’re practically jumping out of your skin, Meep.” You feel your lips pout even as you know that he’s right but you can’t focus on that when he dips his head to kiss the pout on your lips. You’re expecting this time and you barely tense under the quick touch. “Good girl,” Javy praises you as he pulls away again, pressing a quick peck to your cheek and you jolt, surprised by the change in direction. He gives you a look of faux disappointment. “Come on Roadie, loosen up for me.” You feel your cheeks heating rapidly under his constant attention and the anticipation of the next kiss. You’re not expecting when he reaches a hand up and cups your cheek and then your cheeks are heating even more in embarrassment at the realization that he can probably feel their heat. He stokes the apple of your cheek with a calloused thumb and you shiver involuntarily. “I told you Roadie, I’m not gonna hurt you, sweetheart.”

“Prove it.” You’re as surprised as he is by the bite in your words, but the proximity and flurry of kisses have your brain in a tizzy. You’re overstimulated and exhausted and you don’t have the energy for Javy’s antics right now. His eyes widen before he sits back, his hand falling away from your face and you take a shaky breath as your heart rate tries its best to settle. His expression is unreadable as he nods.

“You’re right.” His gaze is steely as it meets yours. “I will.” Like it’s that simple. You’re too tired to push him so you just nod back.

“We need rules,” you hate how tired your voice sounds and you reach for your glass of water, sipping and hoping the cool liquid will give you the energy that you need. “If this is going to work, we need to be on the same page about what’s okay and what’s not.” Javy nods again, eyes calm and earnest.

“That’s good with me, what did you have in mind?” He asks and you fiddle with the hem of your shirt as you think.

“No sex.” You say after a moment, words form so he knows you’re serious.

“No sex, got it, Roadie.” You nod absently as you think harder.

“I need at least a week’s notice if you need me to come to an event, whether that’s a game or something else. That and my job will always come first. I’m not missing school for this, I’m not leaving my kids out to dry.” He nods again.

“That’s only fair. I’ll talk to Zam and work out a schedule of some kind and get that to you as soon as possible.

“Next, if I’m going to be coming to your events, I need you to come to some of mine.” You’re nervous about asking this but Josie’s voice in your head reminds you that this is supposed to be mutually beneficial.

“It’s only fair,” he says casually. “As long as I’m in town, I’ll be there. You can get me a schedule too, but just give me a basic idea now if you can.”

You think for a long moment before you answer. “You need to make a few appearances at the school to really sell it to the administration. There’s a faculty banquet in April. If you’re here, you’d probably be expected to attend.”

“Consider it done.” He says easily. Something else is itching at the back of your mind so you steel yourself and ask before you lose your nerve.

“Career day,” you sputter and Javy arches an eyebrow at you and you clear your throat. “It’s not a requirement per se but I think the kids would really enjoy meeting a real hockey player.” His eyes soften and you give him a shy smile.

“Yeah, Roadie, I’d love to come to Career Day.” He smiles back as you relax in relief. He waits for you to continue but you’re drawing a blank as to what comes next so he speaks up. “You need to figure out how to relax around me. If there’s something I can do to help, I will, but it’s going to come down to you.” You nod, embarrassment sending heat to your cheeks.

“I know it’s not always going to be possible, but if you could ask or give me a heads up when you’re going to kiss me, that might help?” You say after a long moment. He considers your words thoughtfully.

“What if we had a signal?” He asks and your brow furrows.

“What kind of signal?” You ask warily. He reaches out a hand for yours and you tentatively surrender one. He takes it in his absurdly warm palm, and then he brushes two fingers over the inside of your wrist before tapping three times.

“How’s that?” He asks. You glance down at your linked hands. It’s subtle enough. It could work. You nod, slowly and Javy smiles.

“Yeah, that could work.” You whisper and he releases your hand. You study your hand when it comes back to your lap like you’ll see some kind of mark of his touch. Like a piece of him will linger.

“One last thing,” he says and you look up from your lap and he waggles his eyebrows playfully. “You’re not allowed to fall in love with me.” You barely suppress a derisive snort as you scowl at him. It just makes him laugh and the sound takes your breath away. If his smile is the sun, his laugh is its rays. You feel your nerves melt away as the sound fills your ears and spreads warmth throughout your body from head to toe. He pauses his laughing to fix you with a firm look even as his eyes dance with mirth. “I mean it, Roadie, no falling in love with me.” You roll your eyes.

“You don’t have to worry about that.” You won’t be the fool twice. You know better this time.

***

The next morning as you’re walking into school when your phone buzzes and you open it to see a message from Big Sexy ;), “I know you’ll probably be teaching so you can’t watch, but just so you know, the press conference is at 8 this morning. Speak now or forever hold your peace.” He’s giving you an out. While you appreciate it, you didn’t let him kiss you in his kitchen to lose your nerve now and you type back a quick negative response before steeling yourself and making a beeline for your classroom. You don’t feel like fielding Jeremy’s questions before the press conference. You’ll let someone else control the narrative. You’ve settled in and you’re going over your lesson plan when Josie knocks on the edge of your doorway and you look up, waving her in. She perches on the edge of her desk, studying your expression carefully.

“Reuben said they're holding the press conference this morning. How are you feeling?” You shrug.

“He’s not my real boyfriend. I don’t really feel anything.” Josie gives you a skeptical look.

“You know Jeremy and the others are going to start hounding you the second they find out, don’t you?” You sigh, then, taking a moment to take a long sip from your coffee mug.

“If they hound me that means they buy the story and that’s what we want, right? Sure, I’m not exactly looking forward to it, but there’s not much you can do to disprove an official statement from one of the parties, especially the one with everything to lose.” Josie regards you skeptically and you know she doesn’t buy your cool as she leaves the classroom and while you’re more nervous than ever you can’t focus on that right now. Any minute your students will be arriving and you need to be ready for them. They need you right now.

***

By the time lunch rolls around you’ve forgotten all about the press conference so when you step into the teacher’s lounge and Jeremy automatically calls out to you, you’re taken by surprise.

“Damn Roadie, you’re just full of surprises aren’t you?” You turn to see a smirk pulling at his lips as he regards you. “How on earth did you manage to land yourself a big bad NHL player boyfriend?” You ignore the subtle dig in his words as you struggle to clear your mind. You’d gone over your cover story with Javy last night until you were almost convinced it was true yourself. You take a breath to center yourself before you answer Jeremy.

“We met at Thanksgiving, I went with Josie to the Dogfighters’ Thanksgiving dinner.”

“That right, Josie?” You turn to see Josie standing just inside the doorway, a cool look on her face.

“Yeah, friends and family were invited so I invited Roadie since she didn’t have anywhere else to go.” You wince at her words. That part of the story is true. Josie had invited you except you’d turned her down and had spent the holiday curled up on your couch watching old movies and eating spaghetti and turkey meatballs followed by ice cream straight from the carton. In hindsight, you’re glad you hadn’t gone since Josie had arrived back at school on Monday recounting the chaos that had ensued at the event. None of your colleagues knew that, however. “Oh hey, this is a pleasant surprise.” You’re jerked out of your thoughts and you turn back to Josie as Javy appears in the doorway, carrying a bouquet of flowers and a takeout bag. You do your best to school your expression of surprise at the unexpected visit. You’re sure some of it seems believable enough, though as you unglue your feet from the floor and cross over to where Josie’s ushering Javy into the teacher’s lounge as the other teachers gape. You shuffle over to him, a nervous smile plastered on your face. You will your voice not to shake as you greet him.

“Javy! I didn’t know you were coming by today?” You hide your wince at the light accusation in your tone and try to compensate by carefully pushing up slightly on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. The gesture feels strange and his skin is warm under your lips. The skin pulls under your touch as Javy smiles and when you pull away you see the mirth dancing in his eyes as leans down to reciprocate the action, smooth lips pressing to your heated cheeks.

“Hey beautiful, thought I’d come by and surprise you.” You try to ignore the way your stomach flutters at the term of endearment as it falls easily from his tongue. “I thought we could have lunch together?” He holds up the paper bag in his hand and you nod, trying to make your earnestness to escape the prying eyes of your colleagues seem lovestruck in nature.

“Sure, baby.” The word feels strange and foreign in your tongue and you have to hold back from grimacing in discomfort. “We can eat in my classroom,” you nod towards the hallway and Javy takes your lead. Once you’re in the empty hallway, the kids all herded into the lunchroom for the next hour, you glance at him to see him grinning at you. You roll your eyes and lead him to your classroom. You hold the door for him as he enters before leading him to your desk. You realize quickly that yours is the only adult-sized chair in the room but Javy seems unfazed as he sets the flowers and bag on your desk and snags one of the tiny chairs from the nearest cluster of desks. You don’t manage to stifle your giggle as he folds his giant body into the tiny chair and his eyebrows raise, the corners of his mouth crinkling at your reaction. You feel your cheeks heat as you take your seat across the desk from him. He’s tall enough that he manages to reach the height of your desk well enough and he starts to unpack the paper bag, the smell of Thai food hitting your nostrils.

“So…” he says as he passes you a foil-wrapped packet that smells simply heavenly, “how’s your morning been, baby?” He smirks and your cheeks heat even more as you duck your head to escape the humor dancing in his eyes.

“I panicked, okay.” You sputter as you focus on keeping the noodles in the foil from spilling across your desk as you break the chopsticks that Javy passes to you. He chuckles.

“Well practice makes perfect, I guess.” He digs into his food and the two of you eat in silence for a moment before you can’t hold your question in, anymore.

“What are you doing here?” You ask and hate how blunt it sounds.

Javy raises an eyebrow at you as he finishes chewing. “I figured after this morning’s announcement, there would be damage control to do, so I figured I’d get ahead of it. What better way to sell a fake relationship than to bring my girlfriend lunch?” He shrugs. “Plus I figured you could use the backup. People are bound to have questions and actions speak louder than words.” You nod, taking another bite of your food.

“Well, thanks,” you say, trying to fight off the awkwardness as he waves you off.

“This is much better than eating in the conference room with dozens of sweaty guys, believe me.” He looks around your room, taking in the bright decorations and your students’ art hung on the wall. “So, do you teach art too?” He asks.

You shrug. “It’s kindergarten, I teach everything.”

“Damn, Roadie,” Javy looks genuinely impressed. “Even math?”

“I mean, math for Kindergartners usually just consists of counting, shapes, and basic addition and subtraction but yeah,” you giggle a little as he laughs.

“Right, I almost forgot. But that’s still important, though, they need that to be able to do the rest.” He says, giving you a pointed look and you smile shyly.

“That’s why I love it so much,” you admit. “You get to make such a big impact on these kids’ lives.”

“It’s a big responsibility,” he points out.

“It’s a privilege.” You say, a soft smile on your lips and he gives you a look that you can almost convince yourself is pride.

The two of you fall back into silence as you eat until Javy speaks up again. “Do you still make octopus stew in kindergarten?” You can’t help the laugh that jumps out of your throat. Javy regards you curiously as you nod through your laughter.

“Yeah… yeah we still make octopus stew. We’re actually doing that next week.” His eyes brighten and you hesitate before you offer. “You could come if you wanted to? I mean just for the octopus stew part? We usually ask a couple of parents to come help out since there’s cooking involved, we could use the extra hands.” You can’t help the nerves that blossom in your stomach but Javy’s wide grin makes them worth it.

“I’d love to,” he beams before his brow furrows. “What day is it? We’re leaving on a road trip next Wednesday.” His face falls slightly and you can’t help the pang of sympathy that laces through you. You’ve seen it on Reuben’s face before. The realization that his job is stealing yet another special moment from him. He’s missed class plays, dance recitals, and more and it doesn’t get easier.

“Octopus Stew is on Tuesday,” you say with a soft smile, mentally running through the emails you’re going to need to send to the parents volunteering to successfully move around your lesson plans. The grin on Javy’s face is like the sun and you can’t help but feel relief, knowing that your slightly selfish plan is going to be worth it.

“Perfect, I’ll be there!” He announces and you can’t help the smile that his excitement brings to your lips. “By the way, are you doing anything after work today? The rest of the guys really want to meet you, and I thought maybe you could swing by the arena?” You hesitate and his gaze softens. “They’re not all assholes, I promise, you just got stuck with me.” You feel your cheeks heat at that.

“S-sure I can be there,” you murmur and he reaches a hand over, brushing your fingers with his. Somehow you don’t flinch away from his touch. “I’ll be there.” You say with more conviction and he squeezes your fingers gently.

You hear the bell go off in the hallway and glance at the clock, surprised. The moment is broken and you hurry to clear up your lunch trash. Javy stands, taking your lead, and carefully returns his chair to its desk. He holds out a hand to take the lunch trash and you pass it to him, appreciatively. Your eyes fall on the flowers, they’re a simple but bright bouquet of seasonals. “Thanks for the flowers, by the way,” you say and Javy turns to look at them from where he’s almost at the doorway.

“Oh, you don’t have to thank me. You’re my girlfriend, after all, flowers are a given. Do you have a vase?” He glances around the room, looking for one. You shake your head.

“Not here, no. I have some at home but I’ll probably get something plastic for the classroom in case of accidents.” Javy nods, his eyes thoughtful.

“Noted, I’ll bring a vase next time. I’ll see you this evening, Roadie.” He’s gone before you can comprehend his words and a soft smile graces your lips as you gather your lesson plans for the afternoon before heading down the empty hallway to pick up your students from the lunchroom, Javy long gone.

A/N: Sooo Day 1 of the ruse is going well so far! How do we think the rest of the guys are going to react to Roadie?

#false confidence // sdd #fc // sdd #san diego dogfighters au #san diego dogfighters #san diego dogfighters hockey au #top gun maverick hockey au #top gun #top gun maverick #tgm #javy coyote machado x reader #javy coyote machado x you #javy machado x you #javy machado x reader #javy coyote machado #javy machado #coyote x you #coyote x reader #no use of y/n

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goldenseresinretriever · 6 months

Text

Snitches Get Stitches: Chapter 4

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Chapter CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, yelling, trauma responses, medical inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies, legal inaccuracies. No use of Y/N. Any opinions on NHL teams expressed by my characters are not my own and describe fictional versions of these teams.

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: We’re back, baby!!! She’s a heavy one, y’all, I hope you enjoy ❤️

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

The next morning you get to work early. You’re getting set up in the exam room for Jake’s physical, having spoken to both Mav and the player already scheduled for the first slot to rearrange the schedule. You glance at the door every few minutes, it’s still early but a small party of you is scared that yesterday’s agreement was made in the heat of the moment, lulled into comfort by the shared pizza and conversation, and that Jake wouldn’t show. You aren’t sure what you’re going to do if he doesn't show up. You’re running out of options. The puck is very much in his rink, and while you’d promised him two weeks, with the rate everyone else was getting through their physicals, it won’t be too long before Cyclone is up your ass asking what was taking Jake so long. You put down the chart you’ve rearranged on the counter a dozen times over the last five minutes, deciding to use your time elsewhere. You reach for the filing rack to scan over the charts for the other players scheduled for today, anything to take your mind and eyes off the closed door. The ticking of the analog clock on the wall above it feels like a bomb, and you can’t help the way your breath catches in response to every move of the minute hand. At 8:59, your hands are trembling as your nerves finally make their way to your extremities, your toes clenching and opening to ground yourself with the stinging pain. Your back is leaning against the counter, your hands clasped in front of you to hide their shaking while keeping them visible, a sign of trust. You’re not sure how much longer you can keep yourself from going out and hunting down Jake yourself when the door opens just as the minute hand clicks into place over the 12. His blonde hair, usually perfectly styled first thing in the morning, is already sticking up waywardly as if he’s been running his large hands through them repeatedly. When you meet his green eyes, you see a scared animal, caught between fight and flight as his knuckles are bordering on white where they grip the door handle, an anchor to the hallway, a way out if he decides to bolt. His perfect lips, usually spread in that infectious grin you adore so much are pinched in a tight line. Your mind starts racing. The game begins for real now. He’s in your home court and it’s up to you to convince him to stay. The problem with putting two nervous individuals with their respective careers on the line in the same room is that their brains are too busy setting themselves on fire to properly function like human beings. The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“Alright Lola, up on the table and we can get started.” You clap your hands to try and break the tension that you’re sure you’d need an electric knife if not a high-grade laser to dissolve.

It seems like the completely out-of-left-field address does at least some of the trick, however, and Jake’s face twists from nervous to confused. “Lola?” His grip on the door loosens and it swings shut behind him, forgotten.

“Lola.” You wave a hand, dismissively. “Like Lola Bunny? I mean you’re the one who called me Bugs. It makes perfect sense: you’re blonde, you’re an athlete, and you’ve got great tits.” Your eyes widen as your brain finally takes a break from arson to catch up with what your mouth has been up to. You slap a hand over it, but you can’t take back what you’ve just said. Speaking of things currently resembling an on-fire garbage can? Your professionalism can be added to that list. You’re yanked out of your mental spiral by Jake’s booming laughter. It turns out you didn’t need an electric knife or a space laser to cut the tension in the room, that sound is more than enough. Behind your hand, your lips curve into an involuntary smile at the infectious smile. He’s doubled over now, tears leaking from the corner of his eyes. His hands are on his knees, one gripping in humor while the other simply rests, a gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Oh Bugs,” he manages to get out between wheezing aftershocks, “you’re a lot funnier than I expected.” You feel your cheeks heating involuntarily. He looks up from his doubled-over position to fix you with the full force of his dazzling grin. You honestly can’t blame every girl in America for falling for it. You’ve never been particularly attracted to Jake yourself before, but it’s got your knees weak, seeing it up close and personal.

“Sorry.” The words are murmured just under your breath, embarrassment muffling them.

“Don’t apologize, Bugs, I’m a big fan.” You feel yourself shrink at the sweet words as he straightens, his previous nerves nowhere to be seen as he closes the distance to the exam table in a few strides, sitting down and you notice the way his feet actually touch the ground. “I like it. Bugs and Lola. We make a good team.” You can hear a thousand warning bells going off in your head. The common sense fire department has arrived to put out the fire in your brain. The sirens are loud but you block them out because the doctor side of your brain is jumping up and down at the strides you’re making with Jake. The doctor side. Definitely, the doctor side.

“Well then Lola,” you emphasize the name because you can’t help it, “let’s get started, shall we? We can do this one of two ways. First, we could just treat this like a regular physical and assume I know nothing about your injury, and proceed as normal until I inevitably discover it and then you start talking or second, we could just address the elephant in the room, you can explain what’s going on from the get-go and then we’ll work from there. I’d personally prefer option two so I can amend the physical procedure so you don’t have to put any unnecessary strain on your leg. Still, it’s up to you, whatever you’re most comfortable with.” The mood in the room shifts as you’re both brought back to the present. Jake is quiet, considering your question before he looks up from where he’s been studying his clasped hands.

“Let’s go with option 2 then, Bugs.” You nod, giving him a gentle smile, pulling the stool out from under the counter and taking a seat, giving the floor to Jake but not before you let him know.

“Thank you, Jake. I'm really proud of you.” You hadn’t intended to tell him the second part but something about the visible nervous tension in his broad shoulders makes you think maybe he needs to hear it. He nods, silently.

“Like you said,” he starts. “It happened during Game Four of the Anaheim series during the playoffs. That defenseman, Jones I think his name was, had been on me all night, and he was getting more and more pushy. I could barely move on the ice without him being in my way and it was starting to piss me off. I went to shove him off but he was too close, and our legs got tangled as we went down. I landed on my knee. Honestly, I think I blacked out momentarily from the initial pain. I knew something was seriously wrong but I also knew we were down two points and if we lost that game it could be the deciding moment of the series.” He shakes his head. “So I lied to the physician. I told him I was fine, just a little shaken up from the fall. I didn’t hit my head, I wasn’t concussed, so they let me play. We lost anyway. Then I finally told the physician what was going on, and,” he falters and you fight the urge to close the distance between the two of you and take his hand. “We did all the scans, the tests, and it came back that I had torn my MCL.” You can’t help the sound of shock that passes your lips. It wasn’t an uncommon injury, complete recovery was possible, common even. Complications were rare. Yet the idea of Jake spending the last three months walking around with it untreated, covering that up, even going so far as to play hockey with the torn ligament made your heart lurch. He had to be in unimaginable pain every single day. His eyes raise at the sound from where they’ve been focused on his hands in his lap.

“What grade?” You don’t recognize the gravelly sound of your voice.

“Three…” You can’t breathe.

“And that son of a bitch didn’t do anything?” Your voice is dripping with the rage that swirls around your heart. It was simple. It was so simple. Six weeks to heal minimum, but they were at the end of the season. Surgery would have been entirely possible with a three to four-month recovery period during the off-season. He could have been almost back to normal right now and your stomach turned at the complete and total disregard for his care. Jake is silent, his eyes darting between his hands and your seething face. “What the fuck did he do?” Your voice is so quiet you almost don’t hear it. “What the fuck did he do instead of his fucking job?” You shake your head, a delirious chuckle escaping your lips as you do so. “What did he do instead of holding to his duty of fucking care?” You can’t see Jake’s expression past your blind rage.

“He told me full recovery would take over a year. He said that I would have to sit out the next season if I ever wanted to play again.” Jake shakes his head. “Then my coach was so adamant, so sure we could make it to the final. He was so convinced. He said we could get another cup, if I just stayed in for the rest of playoffs, if I just pushed through it. He said it would make the year off seem earned instead of,” Jake cuts off, barking a laugh, like even he can’t believe it now that he’s saying the words out loud. He’s quiet for a minute before he continues. “And he had my physician in his back pocket, so he told him to make sure I could play when I definitely shouldn’t have been. And you know how that ended. We played the next three games but ultimately lost the series with Anaheim. I started getting more in-depth scans and preliminary treatment done but suddenly Coach wasn’t so sure I was going to be worth the wait. He said if I took the year off, he couldn’t promise me I’d get my first-line spot back. And not in the way that you say when you’re trying to be realistic. No, he said it the way you say when it’s a promise, a threat. Like he just casually forgot my contract was up.” He chuckles and this time it’s unlike every other time you’ve heard the sound. It’s cold, cruel. “He expected me to re-sign, just like everyone else, because when you’re the face of a team, you can’t just leave. So I did just that.”

His green eyes are icy. “By the time I decided to leave, and figured out everything with my legal team, I knew there weren’t any teams still looking for players. It’s the NHL, who doesn’t want their shot? The rosters were full. Then I thought about the Dogfighters. They’re new, looking for their big break, their secret weapon.” He shrugs. “So I gave them an offer they couldn't refuse, served myself up on a big silver platter. I’d been taking the summer easy, staying off my leg the best I could. I thought it would be enough, that I could play. And sure it was probably the delusion, and I knew I would get caught out eventually because I didn’t think any of this through but I sure wasn’t expecting you to call me out on my first fucking day, Bugs.” He chuckles again and this time it’s the one you know so well. “You threw me off my axis, and now we’re here.” His eyes come back to your face and his expression changes to one of immediate concern. “Hey Bunny, hey what’s wrong?”

“What?” Your voice comes out as a croak and that’s when you realize you’re crying. You don’t know when the tears started leaking from your eyes, but now they run silently down your cheeks, dripping onto your clasped in your lap. “Oh, oh my god, Jake I’m so sorry. This is so unprofessional.” You flounder as you reach for the tissue box on the countertop behind you. You swipe at your cheeks roughly, trying to clean up the salty tracks as quickly as possible. “Sorry, I just- That’s not fair, what both of them did to you. They made you play, threatened your job, lied to you about your leg-” You can’t help the sob that chokes your words as you feel yourself getting more emotional as your heart breaks for the man sitting before you. He reaches for you, letting his good leg snag on your stool, rolling it over so you’re sitting between his spread knees. His hands come to take yours and you’re struck by the cruel irony of him comforting you when it should be you doing so for him.

“Slow down, Bunny. What do you mean they lied about my knee?” His green eyes search yours for a lie.

You shake your head. “A grade three MCL tear can heal in as little as six weeks with proper care. With surgery, it could take a little longer, but even then complications are rare. You could’ve been back on the ice as good as new by the time the new season started.” The tears are still running down your cheeks as you watch his face change as he processes your words, his hands clenching on your own as rage contorts his features and you pray you’re never on the receiving end of it because it steals the breath out of your lungs. You have to remind yourself that it’s not you that he’s angry with because your body is fighting the urge to pull away from him until you see tears mirroring your own on his cheeks. Frustration and grief wrack his body with sobs as you stand, pulling him into your arms against your better judgment. “I’m sorry, Jake.” You whisper as you rub circles into his back and just hold him as he falls apart. “I’m so sorry.”

***

You’re not sure how long the two of you stay like that. Eventually, you separate and discuss your next steps. You want new scans and tests run which you need to schedule. In the meantime, you go through with the rest of the physical to the best of Jake’s abilities and when he finally stands to leave with your help, the two of you exchange tired smiles and promise to see each other tomorrow. In the meantime, Jake needs to talk to his team and you need to talk to his manager and coach. You shoot Mav and Cyclone a text that you need to meet with them ASAP.

That’s how you find yourself sitting in that dreaded chair across from Cyclone’s desk later that day. You’re not sure how long you’ve been there. Time started slowing to a slow bleed ages ago. What started as a perfectly reasonable conversation about the health of one of your patients stopped being that while Cyclone’s face was still human-colored. “What the fuck kind of behavior is this, Bugs?” Normally you’d fight the urge to flinch at the rage in his voice, but you’ve mentally checked out of the tirade. “I have an injured player, a fucking starter at that, and I’m only finding out about this now? And not just injured, but potentially unable to fucking do his fucking job when the season starts in less than two months?” He’s standing, waving a finger in your face like it’s a gun. You don’t really notice, the same way you didn’t notice Maverick typing furiously at his phone a few minutes ago from his seat slightly behind you, closer to the door, out of Cyclone’s direct eyeline at the moment. Mav tried defending you, at the beginning, only for Cyclone to yell at him to “sit down and shut up as if you haven’t caused enough trouble by practically begging me to hire her” which was news to you. Maybe you would’ve been touched if you weren’t so numb. You don’t hear the door behind you slam open, cutting off Cyclone as he’s in the middle of degrading your character into the ground.

“HEY!” Jake’s voice cuts through some of the fog around you and your body relaxes slightly instinctively from the tense position it’s been since you entered the room. As if your body knows you’re safe now that Jake’s here. He crosses the room in seconds, standing in front of you as if he can somehow shield you from Cyclone’s wrath. “This isn’t her fault, so don’t you go accusing her as if it is.” His voice is pure fury and if you were in control of your body, maybe you’d shudder at the rage that laces every single word. Even through the haze, your eyes clock the way he puts more weight on his left leg.

“That’s not up to you, son. She’s fired, effective immediately. This is gross negligence, she’s lucky we don’t sue.” Maybe you would have giggled at the words, at the inevitability of them, but your face is still glazed over.

“No, she’s not.” Jake’s tone leaves no room for discussion. “The only way I’m getting treated is if she’s the one to do it.” He glares at Cyclone. “I know I’ve cost you all a pretty penny that you currently don’t have so not only can you not afford to fire me, but you need me to play, and the only way that’s going to happen is if my leg heals, and I’m telling you right now that that’s not happening unless Bugs is my physician. If you want to blame someone? I’m feeling pretty good about my chances of suing my last physician and coach for a lot more than gross negligence. But Bugs and I are a package deal. If I stay, she stays, and I’m staying.”

With that, he turns to you, the rage gone and replaced with concern as he reaches for your hands so, so gently, taking them in his and easing you to your feet. “Come on, Bunny. “ He whispers so only you can hear, placing a hand on the small of your back, the other laced with yours as he guides you out of Cyclone’s office.

Once you’re far enough from the door, he stops, turning to you, a hand coming to cup your jaw as he strokes his thumb across your cheek, green eyes full of worry as they search your empty ones. “Bunny? Hey Bunny, come back to me, baby. I know you’re in there, Bunny, come on.” The gentle repetitive gesture on your cheek and the soothing sound of Jake’s voice slowly draw you out of the place you’ve barricaded yourself in your mind and Jake watches with relief as the haze in your eyes clears. “There you are, Bunny. You okay, baby?” The feeling rushes back into your body and your knees buckle with exhaustion from being on defensive shutdown for so long. You can’t bring yourself to speak so you nod as Jake slides an arm around your waist, holding you up as you slump against the wall. You’re too overwhelmed to catch the term of endearment he’d added into his sentences.

“Jake?” Your voice is a hoarse croak from disuse.

“Yeah, baby? I’m right here, Bunny.” His thumb continues its trail across your pallid cheek.

“What were you- How’d you- Why’d you do that?” Your brain is still fuzzy as you trip over your words.

He shakes his head gently, quiet affection in his gaze as he looks down into your bleary eyes. “It’s like I said this morning, Bunny. We make a good team. You really think I’d let you get away when we’re just getting started?” His eyes dance with something else you can’t place but before you can respond, the door down the hall opens again and you force yourself to stand and step out of Jake’s arms as Maverick comes towards the two of you. If he saw anything, he doesn’t say, instead giving Jake a gentle clap on the shoulder.

“Good save, kid. Quick on your feet, I like that.” He turns to you then. “Bugs, I’m so sorry about all of that. You didn’t deserve any of it, I wish I could have done more to stop it.”

You wave him off. “No need for both of us to lose our jobs, right? And you did help, Maverick. Even if I almost just lost it, you’re the reason I got this job, in more than one way apparently.” You give him a knowing look and his cheeks pinken with embarrassment that makes his fatherly face look boyish. “Thank you for that, I really mean it.” You know Maverick has no idea why Cyclone was so trigger-happy to fire you, Cyclone made that clear at your interview, and as much as you feel the sudden urge to tell him, you hold back because this is your new start and you definitely don’t need Jake to know.

“You don’t need to thank me, just keep taking good care of my boys.” You nod, hoping your gratitude shows in your eyes. “On that note, the three of us obviously need to talk about the next steps and honestly I’m really not in the mood to do that here, so why don’t you two join me and Penny for dinner?” He slings an arm around each of your shoulders, guiding the two of you down the hall, away from Cyclone’s office.

“Penny, sir?” Jake questions.

Maverick beams. “She’s the team nutritionist, and by some miracle, my girlfriend.” You fight the urge to giggle at the sixty-year-old man referring to Penny as his girlfriend instead of his partner.

“I don’t know,” Jake says ruefully. “Pudding’s been home alone all day and I can’t really leave her alone any longer in good conscience.” Mav waves him off.

“Bring her, there’s plenty of room at my house. I’ll text you both the address and take the rest of the afternoon off. We’ll work out where to go next at dinner and let the team know first thing tomorrow. Bugs, you too, you don’t look too great, the physicals can wait until tomorrow.” You nod gratefully as Mav leaves the two of you at the door to the parking garage.

Jake turns to you as Mav walks away. “Do you need to grab your stuff? We can meet back here in a five and I’ll walk you to your car?” You shake your head.

“No, you go ahead and head home. I’m definitely putting my afternoon physicals on hold but I want to make a comprehensive list of scans and treatment options to discuss with Mav at dinner so I’m gonna be another hour or two. I need to make a couple of calls.” That is if your so-called colleagues will even deign to answer the phone. “And no waiting for me this time.” You poke at his chest with your finger. “You get home to your girl and stay off that leg as best as you can.” Your eyes drift down to the new knee brace barely visible under Jake’s sweats. “Give her some extra cuddles because I have a feeling things around here are about to pick up, and drive safe with the brace, you hear me?” You frown at Jake’s leg. “You probably shouldn’t be driving period. Maybe I should give you a ride home.” He waves you off.

“I’m all good Bugs, you focus on finishing up your work, and I’ll see you at Mav’s for dinner.” You shake your head again, more forceful this time.

“No, I’m picking you up. This is the last time you’re driving with that leg. Here,” you pull your phone from your pocket, “put in your number and text yourself that way you have mine. Then you’re gonna text me your address when you get home so I know you made it in one piece.”

“Not all of us are prone to vehicular manslaughter, Bunny.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that he drove in front of me?” You growl and he grins playfully.

“I don’t know, I think I’ll have to hear the other side of the story at dinner.” He says with a wink before he pushes open the door to the garage. You scowl after him. “See you, Bunny.”

“See you, Lola.” You enunciate as you turn on your heel, marching back to your office with purpose, ready to finally be able to do your job.

A/N: Hoooo boy that one was a doozie… A LOT to unpack in this chapter as we hit the first of the many emotional climaxes of the story. Someone give Bugs a hug please, she needs it. I know I promised some Maverick backstory crumbs this chapter but it was already long enough so the dinner is going to have to wait until next chapter, I’m sorry y’all! VERY excited for that 👀

#snitches get stitches // sdd #san diego dogfighters au #San Diego Dogfighters #San Diego Dogfighters hockey AU #sgs // sdd #Jake seresin #Jake hangman seresin #tgm hockey au #top gun maverick hockey au #top gun maverick #tgm #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x you #no use of y/n

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goldenseresinretriever · 5 months

Text

Snitches Get Stitches: Chapter 11

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Chapter CW: 18+ ONLY, fluff, smut, swearing, medical inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies, legal inaccuracies. No use of Y/N. Any opinions on NHL teams expressed by my characters are not my own and describe fictional versions of these teams.

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: D-Day Part 2 is upon us! Enjoy~

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Salt sticks to your skin as you and Jake race across the sand. Pudding bounds along behind you and you chance a glance over your shoulder to see Jake gaining on you. You huff and push yourself faster, carefully dashing up the back porch and your hand is just about to curl around the door handle as Jake’s arms snake around your waist, yanking you back against him as you screech with laughter. “Caught you, Bunny.” He rasps into your ear, his lips brushing the skin there and making you shiver. He scoops you up and you squeal as your body shifts, your hands scrambling for purchase before coming to loop around his neck your bare shoulder brushing against the golden hairs of his chest between the open ends of his white button-down. He has one hand tightly around your middle and the other squeezes your ass teasingly before reaching to grab the door handle, carrying you across the threshold as Pudding follows behind, dancing at Jake’s ankles before making a beeline for her water bowl.

“Jake, we’re getting sand everywhere!” You chide, trying to listen to the voice of reason that’s fighting against every other part of you that wants to shove that damned shirt off his shoulders once and for all.

“Fuck it, that’s a tomorrow problem. I only have one problem I want to solve tonight.” Jake buries his face in your neck, peppering the salt-kissed skin with sloppy, open-mouthed kisses.

“Oh, I’m a problem now, am I?” You gasp between scratches of his beard against your delicate skin. He raises his head to look at you before capturing your mouth with his and you hum at the feeling of his cheek against yours, tightening your arms to hold him closer.

“Bunny, you are my biggest problem.” He kisses one cheek. “And my biggest solution.” You shriek as his free hand comes up to tickle your side and you squirm in his grasp until he finally lets you down and you dash towards his bathroom. You glance behind you to see where he’s stalking after him, a playfully wolfish look in his eyes. “Bunny, Bunny, what am I going to do with you?” He drawls in that accent that sends delicious shivers down your spine.

“Well,” you draw out the word as you lean back against the closed door of his bedroom and he boxes you in, placing a hand on either side of your head. “First, you’re going to let me shower because I refuse to get sand in the bed.” You press a kiss to his nose. “Then, you’re going to make good on that promise of treating me like a goddess.” He chuckles as you press a fleeting kiss to his lips as your hands grip the door handle, twisting and watching him stumble as you push the door open and dash for his bathroom, slamming the door and twisting the lock before he can catch up to you.

You hear him trip over his own feet before he knocks on the door. “Bunny!” You giggle, taking the opportunity to strip out of the delicate little sundress you’d worn for your picnic dinner on the beach behind Jake’s house. It’s damp in places where the waves had sent sea spray up to kiss you. You shimmy out of your underclothes next, crossing the bathroom to turn on the shower. You hear Jake groan through the door at the sound of the water. You go back to the door, leaning your forehead against the wood, imagining he’s doing the same on the other side.

“Go shower, baby, I’ll see you soon.” He groans again before reminding you that he loves you and you hear his footsteps receding and the bedroom door close.

***

After making sure you’ve scrubbed every last persistent grain of sand that’d managed to take up residence in every nook and cranny of your body, you climb out of the shower, drying yourself off before you dip into the linen closet to retrieve the clothing you’d stashed in there this morning while Jake was making breakfast. First, you pull out the matching olive-colored lingerie set, examining yourself in the mirror as you bite your lips to hide the grin you’re wearing at the thought of Jake’s reaction. The lace leaves very little to the imagination and you giggle to yourself as you grab the last item of clothing, smiling to yourself as you run your fingers over Jake’s name on the back of the jersey as you pull it over your head. The jersey swallows you whole, the sleeves falling past the tips of your fingers and the hem brushes your thighs. It’s a far cry from the form-fitting set underneath, making you look a lot more cozy than sexy, but you know Jake’s going to love it. You swallow hard, steeling yourself as you reach for the door to the bedroom, adjusting your hair, nervously, as you swing the door open. Jake’s already sprawled across the bed, busy with something on his phone. He’s bare except for a pair of fitted black boxer briefs and you feel your breath catch at the sight of him. He looks up at the sound and you watch the look of awe cross his face.

“Bunny… Is that?” You grin at him shyly and nod, before spinning around to show him the back and gazing at him over your shoulder, biting your lip. “Fuck,” he groans and you watch his head tip back, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them to look back at you, eyes half-lidded. “Baby, you’re killing me.” You smirk before turning and heading towards the bed, climbing onto it, and approaching him, sitting back on your heels before him while he stares at you like he’s not sure you’re real. He reaches out to cup your cheek and you turn to press a kiss to his palm. “What did I do to deserve something as perfect as you?” He whispers reverently and your heart aches at the storm of emotions in his eyes as you reach up to cup his cheeks.

“You didn’t have to do anything, you always did.” You whisper back, pulling him close and this time when he kisses you it’s different. It’s hungry, your mouth parting instantly, his tongue sweeping in like a summer storm, twining with yours desperately, his hands shifting to your hips and he pulls you into his lap. You gasp as you feel the bulge of his growing erection press against your barely-clothed core and you rock against him instinctually, forcing a groan from him.

You whimper in response as his hands find the hem of the jersey, thumbs brushing the bare skin of your thighs silently asking for permission and you nod, not breaking the kiss as Jake’s hands grip the hem and pull it up your body slowly. Finally, you’re forced to part as he pulls the heap of fabric over your head and his breath catches yet again at the sight of the green lace against your skin.

“You see something you like, baby?” You tease and Jake growls, and suddenly you’re under him, gasping as he brings his good knee between your legs. You squirm, grinding down against it as Jake presses open-mouthed kisses to every available inch of bare skin along your jaw and neck. You gasp from the overwhelming sense of pleasure and then you feel Jake’s hands come up to cup your breasts over your bra and you arch into his touch, moans falling from your lips with abandon as his fingers stroke over the curves of your skin. “Jake, please,”

“Please what, Bunny?” You can feel his smirk against your neck and you whine.

“Need you, Jake, please, I need you.” You free one of your hands from where they’re clenching the sheets underneath you to tangle in his hair, pulling his head up to yours, pressing a sloppy kiss to his lips, desperacy in every action.

“I’m right here pretty girl, you’ve got me.” He shifts his knee up just as you grind down again and you gasp, crying out in pleasure at the sinful pressure to your core. Jake presses a soft kiss to your cheek before his hands drift to your back and you arch it for him as he shifts to undo the clasp of your bra, freeing your breasts from the green lace. He helps you slide the fabric off your chest before latching his mouth on one of your nipples and you keen as he attends to the soft bud, nipping and teasing it with his tongue into a stiff peak while you squirm beneath him, tending to the other with his hand, pinching and rolling it before switching breasts. “So fucking beautiful, Bunny,” Jake growls, and you whimper, “made just for me.” Your lust-filled eyes meet his and the beautiful sea green has been swallowed by a black so deep that you shiver beneath him. You keep rolling your hips down against his knee as he absently shifts it against your clothed core. Jake lavishes your chest with his attention, whimpers and gasps escaping your mouth as you feel the rubber band of pleasure in your core begin to tighten.

“Jake, Jake please I need more, need you, please Jake!” Your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling him from your breasts to face the look of pure want and desperation on your face as you hump his knee shamelessly.

“You gonna come all over my knee, baby?” He asks, reaching up to stroke your cheek gently as you shake your head.

“Can’t. Jake, I need you!” His eyes soften and he squeezes your cheek.

“Alright, alright, I’ve got you, Bunny.” He shifts his knee away from your core and you whine at the loss until you watch him slide down your body until he’s face-to-face with the damp spot that graces the barely-there crotch of your panties. He leans forward and presses a soft kiss to the wet spot and you cry out for him. Then he hooks his finger in the waistband of your panties and eases them down your legs. You moan when he brings them to his lips, licking your arousal off the crotch and groaning at the taste. “I always knew you’d taste sweet, Bunny but you’re better than I could have imagined. You squirm, going to close your legs in embarrassment but Jake stops you with firm hands on the inside of your thighs, spreading them and holding you open for him as he gazes at your bare core. “So fucking wet, baby, is this all for me?” You nod, turning your head to bury it in the sheets that are saturated with his scent, your cheeks warm with nerves and excitement as you search for the comfort that fills your nostrils as Jake nips at the inside of your thigh and you yelp in surprise. “Need to hear you, Bunny.” You turn back to meet his dark eyes as you choke out the words.

“Yes, Jake, all for you!” He smiles, pleased with your answer, and then his broad tongue swipes across you, from bottom to top, ending on your clit, and your back arches away from the bed as you cry out in overwhelming pleasure. He dives in, then, his tongue drawing pleasure from your core that you didn’t even think was possible as he alternates between flicking, nipping, and sucking at your swollen bud as you wither beneath his touch. Then you feel him shift and then there’s a finger prodding at your entrance. You gasp as Jake eases a finger into your sopping core, your walls clenching around the digit and Jake groans against your clit, the vibration making you breathless.

“So fucking tight, Bunny.” He growls as he begins to pump the digit in and out of you, curling it, searching for that special spot.

“I-It’s been a while,” you admit as you adjust to the intrusion. Jake looks up at you then, eyes full of concern despite the lust that clouds them.

“How long, baby?”

“N-Not since college.” You look away as your cheeks warm in embarrassment. “There wasn’t really time to date, let alone fuck.”

“Hey,” Jake’s voice calls your eyes back to his and they're full of nothing but love as he gazes at you. “That’s okay, you know that right? We can take this as fast or as slow as you want. If you’re ever uncomfortable, just let me know, okay?” His thumb traces shapes on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh and he leans in to press a light kiss to the area, not breaking eye contact with you as he does so, waiting for your confirmation. You nod and he gives you a look that says he needs to hear you say it so you do.

“I love you, Jake, and I trust you. More than I’ve trusted anyone before.” You reassure him and he has a wistful look on his face as he repeats the words between kisses that trail back to your core. With that, he resumes the movement of his fingers and lips and you descend back into a pool of pure pleasure as your hands find themselves tangled in his sweaty blonde locks, urging him closer. You gasp as Jake’s seeking finger finds its quarry and sparks explode behind your lowered eyelids. “Jake, there, right there!” He chuckles against your core and his finger finds the spot over and over with such precision that you feel the coil in your stomach tightening again. The combination of his tongue and his fingers, once he adds another, is overwhelming and you’re squirming all over the bed, held in place by Jake’s arm banding across your middle. Your legs are wrapped around his head, urging him closer, and finally, as Jake’s teeth scrape over your sensitive clit, your climax washes over you as you scream for him. He works through your peak as you sob in pleasure until you’re squirming away from him, overstimulated. His face is drenched in your release as he gazes up at you, his fingers lazily stretching you out as you recover from your orgasm.

“You okay, sweet girl?” You nod, basking in the post-orgasmic glow as he looks like you like he’s just cum himself. One glance at the painfully stretched material of his boxers tells you otherwise and you’re reaching for him before he shakes his head, sitting up and crawling over to his bedside table. You whine in complaint as he fishes out a condom, and when he’s back by your side, leaning over your prone form, you slide your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down and he kicks them off somewhere you can’t see. Not that you’re looking, because your eyes are locked on his cock where it’s standing at attention against his stomach. It’s beautiful and you reach a shy hand out to wrap around the velvet skin and Jake lets out a groan of pleasure. You give it an experimental stroke and Jake’s hand shoots to your wrist, halting your movements. “Baby, if you keep that up, I’m going to finish before we even get a chance to start.” Your cheeks warm at his brutal honesty but you retract your hand nonetheless as Jake rolls the condom down his impressive length. You swallow nervously. There’s no way he’s going to fit in you, but he doesn’t seem too concerned until he looks up to see the tentative pinch of your brows as you stare at him unabashedly. “Everything okay, Bunny?”

“Jake, there’s no way that’s going to fit inside me.” The words fall out before you can think to stop them and Jake chuckles, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little mind about that, Bunny, I’m gonna take care of you. You trust me, right?”

With those words, your anxiety evaporates, because he’s right. You trust him. If he says he’s going to take care of you, you have nothing to fear. “I trust you, Jake. Always.” With that, you feel Jake’s tip brush against you and he reaches down to use your slick to coat his length before returning the tip to your entrance.

“I’ll go slow, Bunny, you tell me when you’re ready for more, okay?” You nod against his forehead that’s pressed against you. He presses forward and you feel the tip slide past your entrance. His cock is so much bigger than his fingers could have prepared you for and your hands fly up to grip his shoulders as you tense up. “Hey Bunny, you need to relax for me baby, just let go, it’ll feel better soon, I promise.” He snakes a hand down to rub circles into your clit and you feel your body relax into his touch. “There we go, such a good girl for me.” He kisses your temple as he pushes deeper into you.

The combination of his sweet words and his fingers eases the rest of the process and soon he’s seated fully inside you and you’re whining for him to move. Jake begins to thrust slowly and you’re clawing at his shoulders at the feeling of his cock dragging against your sensitive walls. You feel so full and the drag of him is downright sinful. You’re crying for him to move faster and he complies, the bedroom filling with a beautiful symphony of your voices and bodies. His pace is simultaneously steady and rough, his hands planted on either side of your head, caging you in as you sing for him. You feel the pressure in your core building up again when Jake’s body stutters and he falters, almost collapsing on top of you and you grasp at his arms, doing your best to steady him as he lets out an uncomfortable grunt. It’s then that you notice that he’s got all his weight on his good leg, doing his best to fuck you without doing any damage to his injured knee and your heart aches for him. His forehead is pressed to your shoulder as he struggles to catch his breath. You sink your hands into his sandy hair, stroking it gently. “Jake, Jake are you okay?” He grunts and you gently push at his chest. He looks up at you as you take the opportunity to flip the two of you over, arranging Jake on his back so his legs can get some respite before you crawl into his lap, leaning down to capture his lips with yours. You can feel the gratitude he’s conveying with his lips and reach down to guide his length between your legs and when you straighten, you feel the tip slip back into you. Jake hisses beneath you and you caress his cheek. “Let me take care of you now, baby.” He looks at you like you hang the moon and the stars as you sink down onto his length, moaning sinfully at the new angle. It feels like he’s splitting you apart and it takes you a few moments to adjust to the feeling of him filling you. Then you give an experimental roll of your hips and Jake is gasping in pleasure beneath you. You shift to raise your hips, feeling him slide out of you before you drop back down, slowly building a rhythm as you ride him slowly. The angle is delicious and you adjust yourself, struggling to get Jake’s cock to hit where you need him. Regardless, your clit brushes against his hair with each pass of your hips and you’re slowly building back up to your orgasm. You see Jake watching you as you bounce on his cock, his face a picture of pleasure and awe. Your thighs burn from the strain but you push past it, thinking about how he had done the same for the sake of your pleasure. You feel the coil in your belly disappear as your muscles burn from the strain of riding Jake but judging from the look on his face, it’s worth it. That is until your body catches up with you and you lose your balance, tumbling toward Jake’s chest. His firm hands wrap around your waist, steadying you before you faceplant into his tits.

“Easy, Bunny, I’ve got you.” His voice is low and raspy with need but you can hear the concern in it all the same. Even now, so close to his orgasm, he’s checking in on you. “You okay?” You’re shaken up and your thighs still burn. You’re not sure you’ll be able to help Jake finish and you hate the twinge of insecurity that lingers in your heart even as you nod. You lean forward to press your hands against his chest for balance, the angle changing and Jake ruts up against you, involuntarily and you gasp at the feeling. You watch through half-lidded eyes as he keeps his firm hands on your hips before planting the foot of his good leg on the bed, as he fucks up into you. Even though you keep your exhaustion from him, he knows. His hands guide your hips up and down his cock, taking the lead, one thumb reaching to rub at your clit, wanting to ensure that you’re feeling good too. Finally one of his thrusts finds the spot you’d been searching for and you cry out in pleasure, alerting him to his discovery. He shifts his hands slightly, holding your hips in place as he doubles down on that spot, chasing your pleasure and his orgasm in tandem. You’re gasping and shaking above him, your breasts bouncing with every thrust and then you feel Jake twitch inside you and he throws his head back against the bed, his thrusts turning sloppy as he finds his end. His fingers dutifully rub tight circles into your nub even as he rides out the wave of his own pleasure and then you’re following him over the peak, your body going boneless and he eases you down to collapse against his chest. The two of you bask in the afterglow, your sweaty skin presses against each other as your chests heave and you catch your breath. “I love you so much, sweet girl,” Jake murmurs into your hair and you gaze up at him with a sated smile.

“I love you more.”

***

Monday morning goes smoothly enough. You get to sleep in a little since you don’t have to worry about driving to Jake’s to pick him up. Javy dropped the now-repaired truck off before he left for Cabo, so everything’s ready to roll. Jake makes pancakes and you can’t help but be reminded of your first day at his house. The two of you make it to the arena without any fuss and you’re in your office attempting to catch up with all the work you’re not behind on while Maverick and Dare meet with Jake to discuss strategies and training he’s been missing. It’s easy enough to pretend that nothing’s changed between you and Jake when you’re separated but you’re worried about what will happen once you’re forced into professional proximity. Now that you’ve had a taste of Jake, you don’t want to let him go, and after two weeks of living with him, you’re used to spending almost all your time with at least some part of him touching you, so you feel the loss physically as you’re alone in your office. You’re not alone for long, though, as a knock sounds at your door and you call out for them to come in. It doesn’t sound like Cyclone’s sharp rapping that makes you jump in your chair but you can’t be sure until Javy enters your office. “Javy, hey, what can I do for you?” He has a guarded look on his face and you can’t help the uneasiness that eats at your stomach. You gesture for him to sit across from you but he stays standing, dark forearms folded across his chest.

“We need to talk, Bugs.” You swallow. You know Javy’s not your biggest fan right now. He’s mad at Jake for not telling him about the two of you. In Jake’s defense, there hadn’t really been a two of you until after Javy found out but things were already tense between the two of them before that. “Of course Javy, what’s on your mind?”

“Look Bugs, I appreciate everything you’ve done for Jake’s injury, I really do, but I have to ask what you think you’re doing with him outside of work.” Your heart stops. He wants to talk about this here? Now? Jake’s words come back to you and you take a deep breath. If you go, I go. Javy’s his best friend, and just like when he approached you on your first day, he just wants what’s best for Jake, and right now you’re the furthest possible thing from that.

“Javy, I know it doesn’t look good, believe me, I know that. I also know it goes against every oath I’ve taken and contract I’ve signed.” Javy nods, his face giving away nothing. “I never intended to fall for Jake.” Your voice trembles slightly with emotion but you can’t let him break your confidence because you’re sure about Jake. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be doing this. “I know what’s at stake for both of us if the wrong people find out about this and I never want Jake to get hurt. You have to know that. I did everything I could to keep things professional between us, but it happened anyway.” You shake your head. “I love him, Javy. And I’ve never said that about a guy before. It’s not just passing infatuation, it’s not just me throwing myself at him because of what he does for a living, I genuinely really love him.” You put your head in your hands, taking a shaking breath. “I love him so much that it scares the life out of me, Javy, and I don’t know what else to do.” It comes out as a whisper but you hear Javy’s breath catch so you know he hears it.

“Jake said that there’s no way you’d hurt him because you’ve been hurt before.” You stiffen at his words. “He said it wasn’t his place to tell me more than that so I’m asking you, what’s he talking about?” You sigh. It was only a matter of time until more people found out the truth about how you came to be working with the Dogfighters and you’d rather them hear it from you. So you motion to the chair across from you and this time Javy sits, and you tell him your story.

When you finish, the ice in his eyes has thawed and what you see isn’t pity but guilt. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Bugs.” You give him a rueful smile before you shrug.

“It got me here, and I have a chance to actually make a difference here, so it wasn’t all for naught. I wouldn’t have met any of you, including Jake and he could still be suffering.” Your voice breaks at the thought and you swallow, trying to control your emotions. Javy gets up and crosses around to the other side of your desk and you let him hug you.

“I’m sorry I doubted you.” He says, pulling away to lean on the edge of your desk as you nod.

“It’s not your fault Javy, I think we both know that this industry isn’t immune to abuses of power imbalances. But I promise you, I’ll never do anything to intentionally hurt Jake.”

“I know that now. And if Jake trusts you, I think I should too. Hell, even Zam’s on your side and she’s wound so tight I think she’s going to explode one of these days.”

“Well, you don’t exactly make it easy for her.” You arch a knowing eyebrow at him and he groans.

“Okay, don’t you start.” You shrug.

“Just a piece of friendly advice, Javy. Your PR rep is the last person you want to piss off. She can very easily let your whole life go to hell even if that’s not her job.”

“I think I can handle her.” He says with a smirk as he pushes off your desk and heads towards the door to your office. You shake your head, smiling at him.

“I don’t think anyone can handle her, Javy. Not really.” He laughs as he waves, leaving you alone with your paperwork once again.

***

Your first week back is a success in staying low-key. Jake spends any free time he has at work making sure to get as much bonding as he can in with the other guys, trying his best to keep up his role as captain even when he can’t be on the ice. He’s making great progress with his leg now that you once again have full access to the physical therapy facilities. You’ve been meeting with Hondo, the Dogfighter’s athletic trainer to start developing a regiment that’ll have Jake back on the ice in time for the first game of the season. Maverick and Dare have agreed to have Jake sit out of the preseason games next week to give him additional time to rest and recover. There are three weeks until the season officially starts and you’re in the home stretch. You’ve unofficially moved in with Jake after you made an attempt to go back to living at your apartment until Jake made a convincing argument that you should just stay with him until he’s completely back up and running. Admittedly, it didn’t take much convincing on his part. You’re happy with him, living in his house, and sleeping in his bed. Everything’s perfect.

That’s probably how you find yourself seated on your desk, the papers you’d been reading splayed out beneath you as Jake’s tongue explores your mouth lazily. He’d come in to drop off the lunch he’d bought for you when he and Javy went out for burgers at the place around the block, but that had been abandoned after Jake pointed out how “delicious you looked in your scrubs.” The fact that you’re at work and that there’s no lock on your door has been temporarily forgotten in your passion. Jake’s fingers have dipped under the hem of your top, stroking the soft skin of your belly as his tongue mirrors the movement in your mouth. And that’s how Cyclone finds you when he walks into your office without knocking for once. Later you’ll wonder if he actually did knock and the two of you were so wrapped up in each other to notice but regardless, the jig is up.

“SERESIN. BUGS. MY OFFICE. NOW.” The two of you jump apart and you’re met with cold, icy green eyes that don’t hold an ounce of empathy or forgiveness in them.

A/N: So, how about that cliffhanger…

#snitches get stitches // sdd #san diego dogfighters #san diego dogfighters au #san diego dogfighters hockey au #sgs // sdd #tgm hockey au #top gun maverick hockey au #top gun maverick #TGM #Jake seresin x reader #Jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman x you #Jake seresin #Jake hangman seresin #hangman #no use of y/n

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goldenseresinretriever · 5 months

Text

You Catch More Bees With Honey: Chapter 1

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Chapter CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, dead parents, mentions of major character death, mentions of drunkenness, mentions of alcohol consumption, nongraphic descriptions of sports violence, blood probably, angst, age gap (28 and 38), enemies to lovers, suggestive language, hockey inaccuracies etc. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Aaaaand we’re off!!! If you want to get a better idea of Zam’s personal style (because I’m obsessed with it) you can check that out here!

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~~~~~

“BRADLEY! BRADSHAW!” The flush that started on Cyclone’s neck has crept up to encompass his whole face much like a glass filling with fruit punch. You fight the urge to check your phone for the time. He might actually break his record for the longest screaming session yet and there’s a pool in the staff room riding on it that would definitely cover those new heels you’d been eyeing. Next to you, Dare Mitchell, the head coach of the San Diego Dogfighters as of last month, blatantly checks her watch and if you weren’t already enamored with everything this woman did, you definitely were now.

Cyclone’s still yelling, but the two of you stopped listening a long time ago it seems as Dare stands before looking down at you. “Come on Zam, let’s go.” If you weren’t so good at maintaining a poker face you think your jaw might have dropped. You get to your feet and follow Dare as she marches towards the door of Cyclone’s office and he finally pauses his tirade and you glance at your phone. New record indeed. “I am NOT finished!” He snaps and Dare turns in the doorway to face him coolly.

“Beau you were finished the minute this stopped being a conversation. When you’re ready to resume said conversation, you know where to find us.” She doesn’t wait for him to respond before turning on her heel and walking off down the hallway and you’re right behind her. When the elevator doors finally close behind the two of you, you feel the obligation to say something. In your few months in San Diego, you haven’t met a lot of people with the balls to stand up to Beau Simpson. Until recently, the list began and ended with the Dogfighters’s Captain, Jake Seresin. Admittedly it only extended to when Cyclone was threatening his now-girlfriend Bugs, the assistant team physician but it was nice to see that at least someone was willing to do something about the man’s unchecked temper.

Now it included Dragon, the new goalie development coach who also happened to be Cyclone’s daughter. When she’d joined the staff, everyone had been apprehensive at best. One Simpson was already tough enough to handle but she’d surprised everyone by being congenial and even fun. She truly became one of the team, however, the day that she placed a crisp hundred dollar bill into the betting pool against her father’s temper. While Cyclone was a storm with no eye, Dragon was an eye that only seemed to blow into a storm when she stood toe to toe with her father. At least that was the word through the grapevine. Bugs had been going to drop off some paperwork in his office last week and said she’d been able to hear their shouting match from the other end of the hallway. Good for her.

The third entry was the woman standing next to you. Dare Mitchell was NHL royalty. She had been the league’s first female assistant coach and then head coach, going on to coach the Pittsburgh Penguins to no short of five Stanley Cup victories. Her nickname, Dare, stands for Definitive Authority on Rink Education, or Referee Ejection depending on who you ask. The fact that you were working alongside her still had you pinching yourself when you walked into work every morning. There’s definitely been a shift in the energy of the team since she took over the Head Coach title from Maverick after Game 3. This is just one of the many side effects and you can’t say you’re not grateful for the change.

There are unpopular whispers that Maverick asked Cyclone for the demotion himself but you know they're probably true. While Pete Mitchell is a talented hockey player, and he’s spent the years since his retirement coaching rec leagues, he’s not exactly on the level of the NHL. Why would he willingly pass the title to someone else, people ask. Well, it probably begins with the fact that she’s his wife. Dare and Pete Mitchell’s marriage is anything but common knowledge. In fact, the only people on the team that know are you, Bugs, Jake, and Maverick’s girlfriend, Penny. Sure they share a last name but Maverick’s been publically dating Penny Benjamin for the last few decades, so no one would even consider that he’s married to someone else entirely. According to Bugs and Jake, Maverick claims they separated amicably, not feeling the need to finalize a divorce but sometimes you see the way Dare stares at him when he’s not looking and wonder if that’s just his version of events.

“Thanks,” you say, awkwardly breaking the silence as the elevator travels back down to the ground floor. You never know how to talk to Dare, the temptation to make a fool of yourself by accidentally letting slip that you’re her biggest fan is a hazard you have to avoid every time you open your mouth. “Not many people are willing to stand up to Cyclone like that.”

She snorts, “It’s hard to take him seriously when every time I look at him, I just see the snot-nosed kid whose lunch money I used to steal.” You feel like you’ve been hit by a truck as you try to imagine Beau Simpson as a snot-nosed kid while also trying to process that Dare has known him for that long and used to steal his lunch money.

“You’ve known him that long?” You stammer as the elevator jolts to a halt and the two of you step out, walking side by side towards your respective offices.

“Beau and I grew up in the same town. We were never really friends but we were acquainted in the way that you know everyone in a town that small.” She shrugs. “He wasn’t always so full of hot air but maybe that’s why he is now. Needless to say, I have zero tolerance for childish tantrums in the workplace, regardless of who’s throwing them, my players or my colleagues.” You nod in agreement as you reach your office door. “And Zam? I think it might be in your best interest to have a word with Bradley Bradshaw.” The corner of her lips is teasing into the faintest hint of a smirk as you roll your eyes.

“You think?” She chuckles at that, before turning to continue to her own office.

Entering your office, you drop into your desk chair, letting out the frustrated groan you’ve been holding back all morning. You pull up Bradley Bradshaw’s profile on your computer and absently think that you should update the photo you have to his official Dogfighters’s headshot because he’s smiling in this photo and you’re pretty sure in the three months that you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him smile let alone show any expression of joy or even happiness. You jot down a note on your pink sticky note pad to update player photos. Heaving a huge sigh, you open the team portal and put in a request for a meeting with Bradley. One of the coaches will send him your way when he has a moment so in the meantime you read over his profile yet again. When Maverick first entertained the idea of trading for Bradley you hadn’t really batted an eye, even considering him a decent pick, all things considered, but now you wish you’d pushed back that day in the conference room because this man has been the beginning and end of all your problems ever since the season started. Sure you have other problems that you’re juggling. Despite your best efforts, Javy Machado continues to sleep with anything with tits, but right now it’s the least of your worries. You’re more concerned with the fact that Bradley Bradshaw’s almost spent more time in the penalty box this season than the rest of the team combined. He’s been irritable, to say the least, and while he used to play the role of enforcer more often, preferring to retaliate than provoke, ever since coming to San Diego he’s done nothing but pick fights on the ice. To the point that Cyclone’s yelling at you and Dare about it instead of Bradshaw himself. Dare because she’s his coach. You because this is doing disastrous things for the team’s reputation. Just because “fighter” is in the team name doesn’t mean it needs to be taken literally, apparently.

You don’t get it. Maverick asked for Bradley specifically, and he’s his godfather, you’d think Bradley would be ecstatic to be here. After all, his father died when he was just a kid. You’d assume that he and Maverick are close. You wonder if Dare knows anything about it. If things get dire enough you may have to ask her, even if she doesn’t know that you know about her and Maverick. Sighing, you click away from Bradley’s profile as you move on to other work while you wait for him to show, sparing a glance at the clock on the wall before picking up your phone to text the group chat labeled Cyclone Relief Fund. “19 minutes,” followed by a partying emoji. Mama’s getting a new pair of heels.

~~~~~

It’s a little after noon when there’s finally a knock on your door. You call for the knocker to enter and Bradley Bradshaw opens the door, taking a seat across from your desk. You fight an amused chuckle at the way his giant body dwarfs the petite pink armchair across from you. You have a feeling he won’t find it as funny as you do. He’s wearing a black Dogfighters’s tee that’s gripping his muscular arms for dear life over sweats, his curly hair still damp from the showers.

His whisky eyes are studying the space around you with curiosity mixed with thinly veiled disgust. You try to see it through his eyes. The boring white walls have been meticulously covered with adhesive wallpaper in a soft baby pink. Hanging on them is a carefully curated collection of art prints in matching white frames. Floating shelves on the wall are decorated with various tchotchkes in various shades of pink and white. A bright pink shag rug sits under your white wood desk, housing the pink faux leather desk chair you’re seated in and the plush pink armchair that Bradley’s spilling out of.

“Something wrong?” You ask when it’s been too long with him just blatantly ogling your decor.

“This looks like Barbie’s dream house.” He states, unamused, as his eyes come back to you.

“Actually I was going for more of an office or career Barbie than Malibu but it was probably on the vision board too.” You say, turning to your computer as you pull up the folder of articles that Cyclone sent you this morning. “Glad you like it.”

“I don’t.” His voice is flat and you peer up at him over the top of your screen. Your eyebrow twitches with annoyance at his blunt rudeness.

“Well if I ever get a suggestion box, I’ll make sure you’re the first to know, Bradshaw.” You snip as you turn the screen you’re looking at so that Bradley can see it. “So I think you can guess what you’re here to talk about. In the last fifteen games you’ve played, you’ve spent more time in the penalty box than any other player.”

He arches a dark brown eyebrow, “Hockey is a contact sport, honey.” Your eyebrow twitches again at the nickname.

“I’m sure the occasional bump is considered contact but throwing down your gloves to punch your opponent in the nose has very little to do with puck handling don’t you think?” Your voice is civil, and reasonable, as you pull up the video of Bradley’s fist making contact with the face of the Jets’s defenseman. That had handed him a five-minute major penalty for fighting.

“You’re not on the ice. Sometimes they’re asking for it.” You say a silent prayer for patience.

“You realize that you can get suspended for this right? You’re lucky you only have one instigator penalty so far out of all those fighting penalties.”

“I know that, honey. Three instigators earn you a two-game suspension, and it increases after that. I’ve read the rules.” You clench your jaw at how nonchalant he’s being about this. He’s got a smorgasbord of minor penalties, a couple of majors for general fighting, and one blatant instigator penalty. He’s on thin ice, pun intended.

“Regardless of the official NHL rules, what are you going to do if your coaches decide to bench you?” You raise an eyebrow at him and watch as he stiffens. It seems you’re finally a move ahead of him. You like it. “And given that Cyclone just yelled at me and Dare over the state of your performance? I’d say it’s bound to happen sooner rather than later.” His fists clench in his lap, but he doesn’t say anything. You decide to plow ahead while he’s not fighting every word coming out of your mouth.

“While your performance on the ice isn’t my department, how it reflects on the team is. Currently media outlets are describing you as a loose cannon and bordering on a danger to other players. If this keeps up, the team could be forced to bench you indefinitely or even let you go completely.” You purse your lips in a thin line. “I’m doing what I can in terms of damage control but we have to work together here. I can’t promise that you’re working on it if we don’t see any actual change.”

He snorts at that, sitting back as best he can. “You want some advice, honey? Stay out of it. It’s none of your business.” You clench a fist in your lap. Why does he insist on fighting with you?!

“Actually, it is. This is my job, Bradshaw. Just because you don’t feel like doing yours doesn’t mean I’m going to follow suit just because you want me to.” His honey eyes flash with warning but you don’t back down, meeting them with yours, steel in your gaze. “I didn’t get this job by letting people like you walk all over me, Bradshaw and I don’t intend on starting now.” Your fingers fly over the keyboard and you pull up some paparazzi photos from the last few weeks. “You’re getting drunk and causing trouble in public,” you click through photos of an intoxicated Bradley leaving a bar and getting into a shoving match with some guy. You sigh, fighting the urge to pinch your nose as a dull throbbing takes up residence in your temples.

Bradley just gives you a cold look. “What? So a man can’t go to a bar and have a drink anymore?” The throbbing intensifies and you fantasize about launching yourself over your desk and wrapping your perfectly manicured hands around his enormous neck.

“Look,” your voice is pure ice to hide the vitriol threatening to take over, “if you’re not going to change your behavior, at least do me a favor and be a train wreck in private from now on.” You could hear a pin drop as you barely hold back from spitting the words at Bradley. The two of you glare at each other, the white expanse of your desk a no-man’s-land between the wars in your eyes. “You’re free to go.” Your voice is the exact opposite of your face. It’s prim, proper, congenial. It matches the rest of your persona. Your bright butter-yellow suit makes you look like sunshine incarnate even as you burn underneath with the fury of a thousand suns. Bradley’s still glaring at you as he extricates himself from the armchair and stalks out the door without another word, letting the door slam behind him. You want to scream but the walls in the place are far too thin, so you do the next best thing, launching yourself out of your chair not bothering to push it back as you storm out of your office.

***

You barge into Bugs’s office and she looks up from whatever chart she’s currently perusing as you grab a handful of gummy bears from her candy dish and throw yourself into the chair across from her. She raises a single eyebrow at you but doesn’t say anything as you aggressively chew the green confections.

“I’d think you’d be happier since you just won the betting pool but what’s up?” She says finally when it’s obvious that you won’t be volunteering any information.

“Bradley. Bradshaw.” You spit as you pop another gummy bear into your mouth and her eyes soften in

understanding even as her mouth tightens into a tense line. You know she knows what you’re talking about, especially since she’s been the one patching him up. “Cyclone asked me to do something about him because he’s dragging the team through the mud, and you know what he said? He told me to stay out of it! As if this isn’t MY JOB! He doesn’t care about his reputation, he doesn’t care if he doesn’t get to play, I don’t get it! What’s got his panties in such a twist!” You’re fuming as you continue to shred through gummy bears. “This is an amazing opportunity! Why is he so eager to throw it away?”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to be here?” Bugs asks, brows furrowed in thought. “He did exclusively play for the Flyers for the last sixteen years.” You shake your head.

“That doesn’t make any sense. The Flyers have been trying to pawn him off to the highest bidder for the better part of the last two seasons.” Bugs’s eyes raise in surprise and you shrug. “He’s getting old and they would much rather have a good draft pick for rookie talent. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks and all that. At least that’s what their manager told me. When Maverick asked them for a trade they practically threw him at us, they couldn’t believe their luck.”

“Maverick asked to trade for Bradley?” She asks, confused. “Isn’t it usually the manager’s job to do that?”

You nod. “Normally, yeah, but Maverick asked for Bradley himself. Apparently, he’s his godson.” Bugs’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Bradley is Mav’s GODSON?!” You nod.

“It makes sense actually, given that he’s Nick Bradshaw’s son and all.” You watch the realization hit Bugs’s face.

“Oh my god, I never put it together.” She whispers. You can’t blame her. Bradshaw is a common enough last name and no one’s first instinct is to tie someone to a tragedy as well known as that of Nick “Goose” Bradshaw.

Nick “Goose” Bradshaw played for the Philadelphia Flyers back in the 80s, at the same time as Maverick. The two were best friends, inseparable on and off the ice. Nick Bradshaw got his nickname, Goose, because he was always sticking his neck out for Maverick and it ended in one of the most infamous hockey tragedies in NHL history.

While hockey is one of the most violent of the contact sports, it’s highly regulated to ensure that fatal injuries don’t occur due to fighting, but every now and then something slips through the cracks and that’s what happened in the case of Goose Bradshaw. Maverick got into an altercation on the ice and when another player tried to get involved, Goose tried to interfere to keep the numbers even, which resulted in him losing his helmet in the fray and being thrown into the boards, hitting his head. While the physician on duty deemed that Goose was fine, he sat out the rest of the game. Two days later he died of a brain hemorrhage, widowing his wife Carole and leaving his two-year-old son, Bradley Bradshaw, fatherless. The Bradshaw family disappeared from the public eye until Bradley caught the media’s attention when he joined the Penn State Nittany Lions in college as a left defenseman, following in his late father’s footsteps.

“So you’d think he’d be happy to be here, with Maverick.” You muse and Bugs nods, still frowning.

“Family doesn’t always get along, though,” she says with a shrug. You know she’s close with hers and you’re as close as you can be with yours. “But still why would he throw his whole career away like this? It doesn’t make sense.” She’s right, it doesn’t and so you’re left to ponder the enigma that is Bradley Bradshaw.

***

You’re still thinking about it as you get ready to leave for the night. Unsurprisingly, you’re the only one left. The sky has long since darkened outside, but you’re married to your job. You need to do the best you can to keep Cyclone off your back for long enough for Bradley to figure his shit out. You step into the arena proper, the lights are on as the Zamboni drives around, cleaning up the ice after practice so it’ll be perfect tomorrow morning. You gaze at the rink as the machine drives back and forth across the surface and your heart aches. A part of you longs to step back out onto the smooth surface and feel the cool air radiating off the rink kiss your cheeks just one more time. You aren’t sure when the tears filled your eyes but you blink them out as you whisper. “I miss you, Mom. I wish you were here. I wish you could see this. I’m in California now, and it’s so different from home, but you were right. As long as there’s ice, it’s not that different after all.”

A/N: Aaaaaa a lot has happened there’s lots of intrigue (as always) If you haven’t checked out the series teaser, it’s technically a sneak peek at Chapter 2 👀

#you catch more bees with honey // sdd #ycmbwh // sdd #san diego dogfighters #san diego dogfighters au #san diego dogfighters hockey au #tgm hockey au #top gun maverick hockey au #top gun maverick #TGM #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #rooster x you #rooster x reader #no use of y/n

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goldenseresinretriever · 3 months

Text

You Catch More Bees With Honey: Chapter 11

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Chapter CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, arguing, dead parents, mentions of major character death, fluff, angst, age gap (28 and 38), enemies to lovers, suggestive language, hockey inaccuracies etc. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: This was a really hard chapter for me to write so I hope it manages to convey what I wanted it to

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

Bradley frowns in the mirror. He glances at his phone and frowns again. If he keeps this up he’s going to be late. The truth of the matter is that he doesn’t want to go. It’s Friday. It’s been a week since getting back from D.C. and it feels like it’s been a million years. He’d gotten used to it, waking up with you in his arms every morning. Every night this past week he’s had to stop himself from asking you to come over. He’d put the ball in your court, though. You’d asked him to pump the brakes so he had, and he’d promised to respect that.

On top of that, he hadn’t seen much of you this week. The two of you have been busy working nonstop since getting home early Friday morning. You’d both headed home half-asleep from the airport before having to be back first thing Saturday for a game versus Vancouver. The most time alone you’d gotten together was that Saturday morning when you’d called him into your office to sign the official paperwork that would make your relationship officially disclosed to the rest of the team. He smiles as he remembers your soft smile, shy as you signed your name next to his. He’d been sorely tempted to take you right then and there on your desk but he knew that was strictly off-limits and questionably unprofessional at best. He’d settled with a simple kiss to your cheek that had your skin heating under his lips in a way that he loves so much.

Saturday’s game was followed by two more home games on Tuesday and Thursday with Carolina and New Jersey respectively. It definitely didn’t help that yesterday’s game had been nationally broadcast which meant you’d been absolutely slammed with work and preparations all week. He also knows you went out last night with Mickey and some of his former New Jersey teammates.

It didn’t make missing you any easier. He doesn’t have time to call you but he does it anyway, putting the phone on speaker as he fixes his hair. It’s been too long since he’s gotten you all to himself and he’s feeling selfish tonight. You pick up on the third ring, your bright voice echoing around the empty bathroom as he smiles to himself, his mood already lifting. “Hi Bradley, what can I do for you?” He chuckles.

“What? I can’t call my girlfriend without wanting something from her?” It’s new, this label you’ve put on things. Actually, neither of you has yet to actually use the label but he likes the way it sounds in his mouth. He hears your breath hitch and he knows he’s caught you by surprise. Suddenly he’s wondering if he’s overstepped when your voice fills the room yet again.

“Your girlfriend?” Your voice is tentative and he wishes you were here so he could wrap you in his arms and chase away all your doubts with his lips.

“I know I didn’t sign an official form to be the guy you occasionally kiss and take spontaneous road trips with, Honey.” He hears you giggle and his smile tugs wider.

“Plus I guess it would be pretty awkward if you introduced me to your parents and I wasn’t your girlfriend.”

“Nah, I would have introduced you anyway. They would have loved you.” He says and sighs deeply as he looks into the mirror again. He doesn’t want to go to this dinner. He wants to invite you over and have your laugh bounce off the walls for real. He wants your warmth to fill every room of the apartment. He wants to sit you on the kitchen island while he cooks for the two of you and then he wants you to spend the night in his bed so your scent will be glued to his sheets until the next time he can coax you there.

“Any fun plans tonight, Bear?” Your sweet voice breaks through his thoughts and his lips twitch at the new nickname.

“Bear?” He hears you giggle again and smiles.

“Yeah, because you’re big and scary when you want to be but you’re also a secret cuddler and give the best hugs.” He can imagine the way your cheeks are heating as you continue to rain compliments on him. “And bears like honey.” You add matter-of-factly. This bear happens to love honey but he knows better than to mention that right now. “So? Any fun plans tonight?” He groans then as he’s reminded that if he doesn’t leave soon he’s going to be late.

“Dinner at Mav’s.” He doesn’t have to say anything for you to know exactly how excited he is for that.

“And how are you feeling about that?” You ask tentatively and he sighs.

“Honestly, Honey? It’s the last place I want to be right now. I’d much rather be having dinner with you.” He can’t help the admission as he lets it slip.

“That makes two of us.” Suddenly he really really doesn’t want to go. “But that being said, I’ve had a migraine and hangover all day after last night.” You let out your own groan and a fond but concerned smile touches Bradley’s lips. He wants nothing more than to wrap you up and spoil you rotten. He can tell you’re exhausted and he wants to be one to take care of you.

“Get some rest, Honey, you’ve had a long week.” You groan again and Bradley hears paper rustling. His brows furrow as you confirm his suspicions.

“I’d love to but I’ve got a literal mountain of paperwork that needs to get done before I can leave. And then I have to go grocery shopping because there’s literally nothing in my fridge.” You let out a frustrated whine and Bradley’s about five seconds away from texting Maverick to cancel so that he can bring you here and dote on you. Unfortunately, his mother’s voice in his head takes that exact moment to remind him that Penny’s making dinner and while Maverick certainly doesn’t deserve his respect, she does.

“Tell you what, Honey.” He hears you hum in response. “Finish up your work and come over. I’ll give Tony my spare key and tell him to let you in. Order some pizza and get comfortable and I’ll be back before you know it.”

You’re silent for a long moment before you ask. “Bear?”

“Yes, Honey?”

“Do you have a tub?” He blinks, surprised by the question as he turns around and looks at the free-standing porcelain tub behind him.

“I do.” He hears some rustling from your end before you ask.

“Can I have a bubble bath?” His laugh echoes off the walls of the bathroom at your simple request.

“Honey, you can have whatever you want.” He replies and he’s surprised to find that he truly means it. He’d lasso the moon for you if you asked and he’s not even sure what you’d want it for in the first place. He hears your squeal of delight on the other end of the call and smiles as he imagines you here, in his space, the thing he’s been dreaming of all week. “Honey, I hate to cut things short, but I need to start heading over to Mav’s. I’ll see you after?”

“No problem, see you soon, Bear!” Your voice is much more cheery than he feels but he can feel your infectious attitude raising his mood. He hears the line disconnect and lets out a heavy sigh.

The promise of you waiting here when he gets back is what drives him to finish getting ready. He makes sure to give Tony the spare key and doesn’t miss the look the older man gives him when he tells him to expect the young woman from last week. His cheeks are still pink when he pulls out of the parking garage.

***

When Bradley finally sees the house he can’t help the disgusted sneer that pulls his lips. The house is huge, to say the least. He knows he shouldn’t be surprised, given Mav’s long and highly decorated career, but all he can think about is the house he grew up in. How the lawn was almost always overgrown while his mother was alive and the paint was almost always peeling off the sides no matter how much he tried to help with the upkeep when he had the time. Mr. Peterson from next door had helped out more often than not but Bradley remembers the feeling of the calluses on his mother’s hands when he held them, first as a small child and then later at the cusp of adulthood as she’d laid in the hospital near the end. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in his mother working, but he knew deep down that that wasn’t the life that she or his father had imagined for her when they got married.

Carole Bradshaw was Nick’s Princess, his Queen. He wanted to give everything in the world to her on a silver platter. And he’d been on the road to doing so. He’d made it all the way to the NHL, and he got to play on the regular roster. Things were looking up. Carole could focus on raising their son instead of struggling to make ends meet, filling the kitchen table with her delicious cooking instead of piles of bills that needed paying. It would have broken his heart to see how her life turned out.

They weren’t poor, not by any means. Bradley knew that as much as he knew that it was mostly due to the person whose driveway he was currently pulling into. Maverick had been nothing but generous when it came to money, but there were simply some things that money couldn’t buy and he didn’t seem to understand that from the limited conversations Bradley had had with him.

Bradley thinks back to Dare’s little bungalow that he’d visited barely a week ago. She’d coached the Pittsburgh Penguins to five Stanley Cup wins and yet she isn’t living in this state of excess. What disgusts him the most is that she should be. All of this should be hers too.

He tries to get his temper under control as he strolls up the walkway to the double doors. He hears barking coming from inside and when he rings the doorbell he does his best to smile back at Penny Benjamin. Penny Benjamin is a confusing situation for him. He knows that none of this is her fault, Mav abandoning his entire past and everyone involved in it, but it’s hard not to blame her when she’s here, living in Maverick’s McMansion with her pseudo-husband and dog. He leans down to scratch the ears of the elderly Labrador. “Bradley, glad you could join us, come on in.” He follows her inside, down hallways lined with photographs from over the years of Maverick, Penny, and a little girl who ranges in age across the various photos. “That’s my daughter, Amelia,” Penny explains when she catches him watching.

“Yours?” He asks before clarifying. “Just yours, I mean?” He can feel his cheeks heating as his mother’s voice chides him for asking such an inappropriate question.

She doesn’t seem ruffled, nodding. “Just mine, from my ex-husband. She’s probably around your age, she was barely a few months old when I met Maverick. He may not be her birth father but he’s the only one she’s ever known.” Bradley hates the bitterness that pools in his stomach at her words. The jealousy that he could have been the child in the pictures on the wall, doted on by his godfather who should have stepped into the role left vacant by the death of his father.

He’s doing his best to reign in his emotions as they reach the dining room, but it all goes to hell the moment he realizes he’s not the only guest at this dinner. Seated across from Maverick is none other than Dare. Bradley has to fight to keep his hands from curling into fists at his sides because the woman at the dining table is nothing like the one he’s seen before. Usually Dare is the picture of confidence without looking cocky. She knows what she’s doing and she’s not afraid to show it. She reminds him of you and the kind of woman that he’s sure you’ll grow up to be. Now that confidence is gone and Bradley’s fighting the urge to throttle the man that he’s sure is responsible. She looks unsure of herself and as uncomfortable as he feels to be here if not more. He immediately moves to take the seat next to her, keeping his eyes off Maverick as he does his best to assess for damage. He knows it’s probably nothing that he can see but he wants to because all he sees is his mother after a long day of carrying a burden that’s not hers to carry anymore. He can’t count the number of times he’s seen that face and it breaks his heart to see it now, on the face of someone who shouldn’t have to suffer but who is anyway. All because one self-centered fool can’t be bothered to get his head out of his ass.

Maybe he does it out of protectiveness, but maybe he does it out of pure spite, but he does it anyway. He wraps his arms around the older woman, the way she had done for him in her kitchen while he fell apart in his arms. He knows it’s nothing in the grand scheme of things, but he intends to make up for the sins of his godfather if he can. Be there for the person who was there for his mother, for him even if he hadn’t been able to fully appreciate it at the time. The way her body tenses under him at first is the only evidence of her surprise at the gesture but she reciprocates the hug and Bradley finds himself engulfed in a scent that stirs in his memory. He can’t draw a concrete image from it but he knows he’s smelt it before like these hugs aren’t something new just something forgotten. When Bradley finally breaks the hug to sit next to Dare, Maverick is looking at them, surprised.

“I didn’t realize the two of you were close.” He says awkwardly. Bradley knows he shouldn’t do it but there’s something so satisfying about seeing Maverick as uncomfortable as he and Dare are so he pushes.

“She’s my godmother, why wouldn’t we be?” Sure this thing with Dare was new but that didn’t negate the fact that she’d been around his whole life. And sure he was stretching the truth a little, but measured on a scale of Maverick’s involvement in his life? Dare was winning the godparent race by a landslide. Maverick’s eyebrows raise with surprise, and Bradley watches the confusion swirl in his eyes. He’s fighting the urge to smirk as he feels fingers brush his own and he laces them. His throat is rough as he feels the callouses on her palm and he wonders at how much her hand reminds him of his mother’s, the soft wrinkles on the back contrasted by the rough patches on the front.

Penny breaks the tension as he comes back into the dining room from the kitchen. “Bradley, can I get you something to drink?” He tears his eyes away from Maverick and stares at Penny for a beat too long before he mutters that water would be fine.

“So, why am I here?” Bradley asks once Penny has retreated to the kitchen.

“Dinner, I thought I told you,” Maverick starts before Bradley shakes his head.

“Not here at your house, here in San Diego.”

“Bradley, why don’t we wait until later to discuss-“

“No, we’re doing this now because I need to know.” He’s tired of dancing around the question that’s been plaguing him for almost six months now. Sure, he didn’t exactly regret the move now, but he wasn’t ready to just move on like nothing happened. “Not only did you uproot me from the team I’ve played for my entire career, but you made me leave my friends and my home. I deserve an actual answer as to why. And don’t you dare say you did it for me because if it was for me, you would have picked up the phone to ask me first instead of going behind my back.” In the back of his mind, he’s proud of how level he’s managed to keep his voice but at least part of that is due to Dare’s hand in his, squeezing tight in solidarity and grounding him.

Maverick shrugs like it’s a no-brainer. “I had the chance to work with you, so I took it. I thought it would be a good experience for us.”

Bradley feels all the fight drain out of him. All the pain that’s been caused and Maverick treats it like it’s nothing. Because to him it is. “What did you think? That I’d come to San Diego and suddenly I’d be ready to come over and drink beers and sing Kumbaya? What have I ever done to suggest that I would be interested in a relationship with you at all, professional or personal?”

“Bradley, I’m your godfather-“

“BULLSHIT.” Bradley’s voice is raised finally as his emotion gets the best of him. “You may think you’re a god but you are certainly not my father. My father is dead, my dad is dead, and you had every opportunity to step up and be there when I needed you. When my mom needed you. When we needed you, but you didn’t.” He’s breathing hard. “That’s the thing that you just don’t seem to get. You don’t get to decide when I need you. You don’t get to be my godfather when it’s convenient for you and you’ve run out of hobbies to pass the time. I have a life! I have goals! None of which involve you. You don’t get access to my life just because of some title my dad thought you were worthy of. Because that’s just a word, you have to earn it.” Dare’s grip on Bradley’s hand is bordering on painful at this point but it feels good. It reminds him that he’s capable of feeling. The physical pain complements the emotional pain that’s threatening to tear the heart from his chest. He’s breathing hard and every part of him wants to leave right now. Except that he doesn’t want to leave Dare here. And he feels terrible about ruining Penny's perfectly good dinner. When it’s clear that Maverick isn’t about to argue any of the points that Bradley’s just made he stands and walks into the kitchen to cool off.

Penny’s filling a glass with water and passes it to him wordlessly and he drinks it, hoping to cool his head. “Sorry to ruin your dinner.” He says awkwardly as he fiddles with the glass. She shakes her head and takes the glass back from him, refilling it as she considers her words.

“You’re hurting Bradley, I would hate for something as simple as a dinner to cause you more pain.” He nods silently.

“My mom would be so disappointed with me right now.” He’s not sure why he admits it but it’s all he can think of as he looks around the kitchen at the plates of sides and cooling casserole dish on the counter.

“Really? Because if I was her I’d be proud of you.” He looks back at Penny, eyes wide with surprise. “You stood up to Pete, and told him your real feelings. You were honest with him even if it hurt you to do it. I don’t think that’s anything to be ashamed of. That’s brave.” She reaches up then and cups his cheek gently, a fond smile on her face. “I’m sorry that I didn’t push him more, to be a part of your life, to be there for you and your mom. I was selfish and I never meant for you to get hurt by that.” Bradley shakes his head.

“You were probably scared that he’d leave you too. It seems like that’s all he’s good for.”

“I was scared then, yes. And now I know that I shouldn’t have been because that’s not Pete, not really. He’s a complicated man and doesn’t always have the best judgment but he’s good under it all, I can tell you that much. It’s completely fair of you to not want him to be a part of your life, but if you ever decide otherwise? We’ll be waiting for you.” Bradley swallows hard, unable to look her in the eye. “Can I pack some dinner up for you, sweetie?”

He nods absentmindedly before adding. “Can you pack some for Dare too, I don’t want to leave her here.” Penny just nods and sets about getting out some Tupperware.

“I don’t blame you.” Bradley blurts out before he loses his nerve. “Just because I’m mad at Maverick doesn’t mean I’m mad at you. We choose who we love, we don’t choose who loves us.” She gives him a soft smile.

“That’s a good insight, Bradley.”

“It’s what my mom used to tell me.” He shrugs even as he feels the tears pressing against the backs of his eyes. Penny finishes boxing up two dinners and Bradley takes the two plastic bags from her as they go back into the dining room. “Aunt Dare, are you ready to go?” The words, although new, feel familiar in his mouth like a warm hug. She looks at him surprised and then her eyes fall on the bags in his hand and then shift to Penny who just smiles.

“We can reschedule for another day.” Dare nods and a silent conversation occurs between the two women as she stands and follows Bradley to the front door. Penny sees them out. Maverick still hasn’t gotten up from the table.

Once the front door closes behind them, Bradley and Dare walk to their cars in silence until they get to them. “Do you have any plans for the evening?” Bradley asks, tentatively. He knows you’re probably still at work since he’s barely spent thirty minutes here. He also knows you’d want him to do this instead of worrying about you. Dare shakes her head, still quiet, considering him. “What do you say we take dinner to your place?” She smiles gently and then wraps her arms around Bradley. He relaxes into her embrace.

“Thank you, Bradley,” she whispers into his hair and his heart clenches at the thickness of her voice. “Dinner sounds lovely.” She says as she lets him go. “I’ll meet you there.”

They get into their cars and Bradley follows Dare back to her place. He frowns to himself when he sees the overgrown yard. She lets them in and he excuses himself to the bathroom while she dishes up Penny’s food. When he gets back, he’s just about to sit down at the kitchen table when a shout from Dare in the kitchen makes him freeze.

“Maverick, get off the counter RIGHT NOW!” He whips around, expecting to see a man but instead, a burst of orange fuzz speeds out of the kitchen in a blur. Bradley follows the blur as it perches on the arm of the sofa, regarding him with yellow eyes. The orange cat is more fur than cat and looks fairly old despite how spry it clearly is. “Maverick Mitchell the Third, you know better to get on the kitchen counter.” Dare comes out of the kitchen, an unamused scowl on her face as she sets her hands on her hips and glares at the cat. “Can’t you see we have a guest?” The cat, Maverick, turns to regard Bradley curiously. “Bradley, that’s Maverick.” She says to Bradley, her scowl melting into a look of fondness. Bradley gives the cat a half-hearted wave, still recovering from the shock of the cat sharing a name with his godfather.

“He wasn’t here last time.” Bradley blurts out lamely and she chuckles, bringing out two plates.

“He was locked in my room. I didn’t know if you were a cat person and I didn’t want to appear too much like a crazy old cat lady.” Bradley smiles at that.

“You’re not old.” He points out.

“But still a crazy cat lady noted.” She smiles back and Bradley laughs, putting his hands up in mock surrender.

“Your words, not mine.” They laugh together and the tension from earlier seems to seep out of both their bodies. “So, you named your cat Maverick?” He says as they dig into the food. It’s delicious and he makes a note to mention it to Penny the next time he sees her. Dare nods thoughtfully.

“Pete was always just Pete to me. I hated that nickname, so I never used it. Then when I got the cat to fill the void it just felt right.”

“Maverick the Third?” He asks around a bite of chicken casserole.

She shrugs. “I’m old after all.” There’s a lull in conversation as they east before Dare speaks up again. “Thank you, Bradley, for what you did today.”

“I meant every word of it. I know you’re upset that you weren’t around more when I was younger but you’re here now and I want you in my life if you want to be.”

She smiles and he can see the shine of tears in her eyes as she says “I’d like that very much.” He scoots his chair closer and reaches his hand out to hold hers. The sight of her wedding ring still on her finger makes his heart ache subtly. He can’t right every wrong that she’s suffered, but he can do his best.

“Aunt Dare, do you have a lawnmower?”

***

A few hours later Bradley’s riding the elevator back up to his apartment, reeking of dried sweat and freshly cut grass. It's the last he could do but he’d felt the conviction to get it done tonight. Admittedly it had been a while since he’d cut grass but he figured it looked alright when he finished. The sun has long since sunk beneath the horizon and he hopes you haven’t been waiting for him too long. The idea of feeling you in his arms propels him out of the elevator and through the door. He could really use one of your hugs after the evening he’s had.

“Honey?” He calls out for you as he enters the apartment, but he’s met with silence. A glance by the door tells him that you’re here since your sneakers are lined up neatly. He walks down the hall. “Mom, I’m home.” He calls out the photo as he passes by, more preoccupied with finding you. A glance at the living room tells him that you’ve been there. A blanket is rumpled on the couch where you were clearly wrapped in it and a pizza box lies abandoned on the kitchen counter but there’s still no sign of you. He doubles back and checks the guest room first but it’s pristine. Remembering your request for a bubble bath, Bradley heads into the master bathroom and while the room is still sticky with humid warmth and the tub contains remnants of said bubble bath, you’re still yet to be found. He heads back to the living room and tries the balcony. He knows from your last visit that you enjoy the view. He walks the entire length of the wrap-around balcony but it’s empty.

He’s genuinely starting to worry for your safety when his eyes fall on the glass door leading into his bedroom from the balcony. Not even a week ago you stood where he does now, blatantly ogling him as he got changed for game night. Now it provides the answer to his quest. You’re curled up in his bed, facing the window. The lights are still on but by the steady rise and fall of your chest, he can tell you’re asleep. He lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding as he heads back inside, coming into his bedroom from the hallway. You’re indeed asleep, on the side of the bed you favored in D.C. As much as he wants to talk to you about the events of the evening he can’t bear to wake you when you look so peaceful. Stress doesn’t mar your features as you sleep and he begrudgingly trudges to the bathroom to shower before slipping in beside you. He knows he should wake you up, and give you the option to go home but he’s feeling selfish tonight so when he comes back to the bedroom to still find you sleeping soundly he turns out the lights and slides into the bed beside you. He’s resigned himself to staying on his side of the bed when you scoot your body up against his. He reaches for you instinctively, pulling you close and when you curl against him all is right in the world.

“Goodnight, Bear.” Your half-asleep voice murmurs as you drift between dreams.

“Goodnight, Honey.” He whispers back, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head as he lets the warmth of your body and the steady beat of your heart lull him to sleep.

A/N: Bradley and Dare’s relationship is so special to me you guys, I love it so so much.

#you catch more bees with honey // sdd #ycmbwh // sdd #san diego dogfighters #san diego dogfighters au #san diego dogfighters hockey au #tgm hockey au #top gun maverick hockey au #top gun maverick #TGM #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #Bradley Bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #Bradley rooster Bradshaw x you #rooster x reader #rooster x you #no use of y/n

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goldenseresinretriever · 3 months

Text

You Catch More Bees With Honey: Chapter 10

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Chapter CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, dead parents, mentions of major character death, fluff, angst, age gap (28 and 38), enemies to lovers, suggestive language, hockey inaccuracies etc. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 4k

A/N: This one is a little shorter because originally it was a part of Chapter 9

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

Warm. You’re so warm. You snuggle impossibly closer towards the source and you hear the low chuckle in your ear. “Cozy, Honey?” You hum affirmatively, still floating under the surface of sleeping and waking. “You want to go on an adventure today?” The voice is back, the low gravel scratching the insides of your ear and sending pleasant shivers down your spine and you bury your face in the warm cotton against your cheek, inhaling the woodsy scent that immediately settles your bones and you feel yourself falling back down into the inbetween. “Honey.” The voice is back and you feel the brush of lips and stubble against the sensitive skin of your ear, trying to squirm away, whining in complaint. He chuckles again and the arm around your middle tightens, holding you close. “Come on Honey, you wanna go on an adventure with me?” You give in and prop your chin on Bradley’s pec, pouting up at him. You’re sure you look an absolute sight, face puffy from the best sleep you’ve had in years and hair a birds’ nest but the look in his warm brown eyes is pure affection as he presses a quick kiss to the tip of your nose, making you wrinkle it.

“What kind of adventure?” Your voice is rough from sleep as you turn so your cheek is pressed to your cheek as you keep your eyes on his. His eyes sparkle with something you haven’t seen in them before.

“We have the day off,” he points out. “Let’s go somewhere.”

“Where?” You ask, a soft smile gracing your features at seeing this new side of Bradley. He looks excited for the first time since you’ve met him.

“Do you trust me?” You nod. “Then, let’s go.” You arch a questioning eyebrow. He responds by kicking off the sheets and you whine in protest, curling tighter against him for warmth as he scoops you out of bed, placing a kiss on your cheek and scattering every thought of protest from your mind. “Come on, Honey, you can sleep in the car.”

“The car?!” That wakes you right up. He shrugs as he carries you to the bathroom.

“I rented a car last night. Let’s get out of here.” He places you on the bathroom counter as he reaches for your toothbrushes, prepping them before passing you yours. “Unless you have other plans?” He asks and you shake your head as you brush your teeth. “Perfect, then let’s go.” You nod, mouth full of toothpaste and you think that you could get used to this even as you find yourself afraid. You’re not sure you’ll ever be able to tell him no.

***

You feel your lips twitch into a ghost of a smile as you examine Bradley’s rental car. It’s a newer model, but it’s still a Ford Bronco, in a lovely grayish teal. “Bradley Brashaw, dare I say, you have a type.” You smirk at him as he pulls open the passenger door for you and he laughs as you climb in. He reaches over to buckle you in and you get another nose full of his cologne. Once he’s in the driver’s seat, he looks over to make sure you’re comfortable before pulling out of the parking lot of the hotel. You reach over to turn on the radio and the familiar sound of the piano at the beginning of Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’” fills the car. Your fingers freeze on the dial and you consider changing the station but Bradley’s voice stops you.

“Just a small-town girl, living in a lonely world. She took the midnight train, going anywhere.” He nods at you and you join in.

“Just a city boy, born and raised in south Detroit. He took the midnight train, going anywhere.” As the two of you sing along with Steve Perry you think about the last time you heard the song. It’s hard to believe that it hasn’t even been a week since Mickey, Bob, and you had ventured out to some cute little bar downtown that the boys had found during their first week in San Diego. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary but it was cozy and had Thursday night karaoke. Desperate to cheer you up after your panic attack, they’d dragged you out with the promise of free food and dancing. You remember climbing onto the bar as you crooned along to the music, feeling lighter than you had in a long time. You had friends who cared about you. You were in a new place, doing your dream job, with people who loved you. Everything is going to be okay. Back then you were hesitant about that statement, and in a way you still are, but as you sit in a car that smells unfamiliarly new, with a man who feels familiarly new, you’re sure that you’re happy.

***

At some point, the music and steady driving lull you to sleep and you don’t wake until your body registers that the car has stopped moving. You sit up, stretching, as your eyes adjust to the midafternoon sun streaming through the clouds. You glance around the empty car and then out into the parking lot of the Giant Food. You glance into your lap to see Bradley’s folded flannel has fallen there where it has to have been under your head. Your heart aches at the idea of him pulling over to tuck it under there so you wouldn’t wake up with a crick in your neck. The car isn’t too cold so you know Bradley can’t have been gone for long. You go to text him and ask if you should come in when you realize you don’t even have his number. Your laugh punctuates the comfortable silence. Then a chirp and click echo through the car and Bradley pulls open the door. “Hey, look who’s awake.” You give him a rueful smile as you toy with the fabric of his shirt in your lap. “You sleep okay, Honey?”

“I don’t have your phone number.” You blurt before you can think twice and he blinks, surprised before laughing and the warmth of the sound rumbling from deep in his chest chases away any of the cold he’s letting through the open car door.

“Yeah, I guess you don’t. Hold these for me?” He hands you a huge bouquet of daisies and you take them from him, the soft floral scent filling the car as you hold them while he climbs in beside you. When his other hand comes into view your heart aches in the best way as the second bouquet comes into view. The sunflowers light your face up the same way that they brighten the car. He hands those to you too as he buckles himself in and you inhale their scent, feeling warmth spread to the tips of your toes.

“Thank you, Bradley.” You say shyly as he looks over at you with your nose buried in the flowers.

“Of course, Honey. I’ll get you flowers whenever you want.” You feel your cheeks heat at his sweet words and he chuckles. “Here, give me your phone.” You shift both bouquets to one hand so you can pass it to him. He types on it before handing it back. “There, now you have my number, and whenever you’re ready, I’ll have yours.” You hold his gaze and you know he’s serious. You swallow hard before tapping the screen and Bradley’s pocket buzzes. He doesn’t break your gaze as he fishes it out, taking the call and raising it to his ear. “Hey Honey,” you raise your phone to yours.

“Hey,” you hate how breathless you sound. He smiles at you and you hope he doesn’t expect you to say anything else because you’re speechless. He hangs up the phone then, going to turn the car on and you struggle to breathe at the flex of his forearm. “So, where are we?” You ask as he pulls out of the parking lot, tearing your gaze away to the window as you look around for any sort of landmarks.

“Virginia.” He answers, nonchalantly. You whip around to gape at him.

“VIRGINIA?!”

“Well more specifically, Virginia Beach.” He still seems unphased as you continue to gawk at him. “Honey, I would stop gaping like a fish unless you want me to throw you into the ocean.” You shut your mouth, scowling at him.

“What’re we doing in Virginia Beach, anyway?” You ask, skeptically, as you turn back to the window.

Your breath catches in your throat as Bradley turns off the main road and your eyes fall on your apparent destination as it comes into view, the question dying on your lips. Bradley’s silent as the car passes under the wrought iron archway and along the paved path that leads to a mostly empty parking lot. You feel a lump in your throat as Bradley parks the car. You watch his hands grip the steering wheel as if for dear life before he finally lets it go and you see the afternoon sun dance off the sweaty prints he leaves behind. He climbs out of the car, coming around to your side and you’re frozen as he opens the door for you, holding out his hand for you to take. In any other situation you know it would be chivalrous but you know right now he needs you. You place the sunflowers on the dashboard, shifting the daisies in your arms so you can take his outstretched hand in yours. It’s sticky and clammy with sweat but you just give it what you hope is a comforting squeeze.

Bradley’s steps are hesitant as he leads you through the rows of headstones until you stop beside a pair of matching ones. They look like they haven’t seen much attention recently so you let go of Bradley’s hand as you reach out to sweep off the thin layer of grime on the top of one of them. You frown before handing Bradley the flowers, squatting down, digging in your purse for your tissues, and gently wetting them with your hand sanitizer as you carefully work to clean off the headstones. Your fingers drift over the names with reverence. Nick Bradshaw and Carole Bradshaw.

When you’re satisfied with the work you’ve been able to do, you stand, ignoring the crackle of your knees and you turn to take the flowers back from Bradley to see him watching you. Tears are sliding silently down his cheeks as you wipe your fingers clean. You see it then like you’re looking through a window into his very soul, the boy who stood here far too young the way you once had and you reach for his hands, tentatively. Just as your fingers brush his, he pulls you into his arms and lets out a shuddering breath as he pulls you against his chest. You wrap your arms around his middle, holding him as close as you can as you feel his shoulders shake. You hold him as he falls apart in your arms and when you look up, you see him watching you. Your own eyes are swimming with tears and as you watch his eyes fall to glance at your lips you realize that you were right. You’ll never be able to tell him no. You reach up then, planting your lips on his. It’s not a kiss, per se. Not really. Just another layer of closeness that the two of you are desperate for as the emotions overwhelm you. Neither of you moves to deepen it or pull away, you stand there, lips pressed together in silence, passing unspoken words between each other.

***

You’re not sure how long the two of you stand there until a shiver runs down your spine as the wind picks up and Bradley breaks the kiss, pulling you closer into his arms in an attempt to shield you from the cold. He digs around in the pocket of his coat, pulling out a beanie that he plops onto your head, making sure to pull it down to cover your ears. You give him an appreciative look as you wiggle out of his grasp even as he tries to pull you back. You wriggle free and dig into your pockets for the gloves he bought you before reaching for the flowers, sliding two daisies free. The first you place on his father’s headstone and you remember the family photo in his living room. Your heart aches at the thought of the ruddy-cheeky toddler standing here as his father was taken from him. “Thank you for being Bradley’s dad. You may not have gotten to see the man he grew up to be, but I know you’d be so proud of him.” You turn to Carole’s tombstone next and you feel your vision blur as you lay the next daisy on her stone. “Thank you, for raising a good man. He likes to pretend he’s not, but it comes through because you did such a good job. He must have been the luckiest person in the world to have you as a mom. And,...” you hesitate before continuing. “Thank you for showing him how to love because he’s teaching me every day, and I didn’t think I ever would again.” A sob breaks through your lips then because you wish you’d been able to meet her. The woman with the golden curls who had such a bright smile. You want to be strong for Bradley right now but now you just want your mother. You miss her. You really, truly, miss her. You just want to be able to pick up the phone and call her and hear her laugh again as she asks what she’s done to earn a call from her lovely daughter today.

You’re falling apart at the seams and all he does is pull you close. Your back is against his chest as you can’t tear your eyes away from the headstones and the wind tears at the two of you, pulling at your clothes and your heartstrings as Bradley and you cry together, letting the shared grief hold you together as you fall apart.

***

The sky is starting to pinken when the two of you finally start to make your way back to the car. The daisies have been left with Bradley’s parents as you leave the cemetery. The car is peacefully quiet as Bradley drives. Neither of you seems quite ready to talk about it yet so you don’t push.

“You okay if we make one more stop?” Bradley asks, finally, as he turns off the main road towards what looks like a residential neighborhood.

“Sure, of course.” You ignore how raw your voice sounds from crying but Bradley’s hand reaches across the console to hold yours. You’re quiet until he pulls up in front of a house. It's been painted a pale yellow but the pain is worn and faded, chipping in places. The fence looks freshly-painted and the yard looks maintained as the two of you climb out of the car. Bradley leads you up the path to the front door where he hesitates. You’re about to ask when a voice from behind the two of you causes you to turn.

“Bradley Bradshaw is that you?” The two of you turn around to see a little old woman standing at the fence a shocked look on her face as she takes in the sight of Bradley.

“Mrs. Peterson?” He asks, equally surprised. She gasps and shuffles up the path as he descends the stairs to meet her halfway. She reaches up to cup his cheeks as she takes him in. “After all these years?” She sighs as she looks him over. You linger on the porch awkwardly as you watch the sweet reunion. “You’ve finally come home, boy?” He nods, his voice thick with emotion as he answers.

“Just for a quick visit. I wanted to see Mom.” She pinches his cheek at that.

“She’d be furious that you were gone so long.” She says wistfully as she kisses the place where she pinched. “But, she’d be happy to have you home all the same.” She hugs him and he leans down so she can get a good grip around his neck. “John and I have kept the house up like you asked, and I get those Christmas cards you send every year.” She gives him a sweet look as she releases him, patting his cheek. “How long are you here for?” Bradley looks chagrinned as he explains,

“We have to be back in D.C. by tomorrow morning at the latest. She shakes her head a bemused smile on her cheek.

“You come back soon now, you hear me? And next time you’re staying for dinner.” He smiles and nods as she lets him go. Then she turns to you and you start in surprise as she fixes you with a warm smile. “And don’t you be a stranger either, you hear? I’m no fool. The first time this boy comes home in twenty years and it’s with a young lady.” She turns to Bradley and fixes him with a hard look. “You treat her right, you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bradley promises and you smile before replying yourself.

“Don’t worry ma’am, he always does.” The two of them turn to you and you catch the warm affection in Bradley’s eyes as he looks at you. Mrs. Peterson leaves you then, walking back down the path and to the house next door. Bradley comes back up to the porch, taking your hand in his as he looks at the sides of the house.

“The house needs a fresh coat of paint.” He frowns.

“I can make some calls when we get back if you want.” You offer and he gives you a blinding smile before turning back to the front door. You see him hesitate and squeeze his hand gently. “We don’t have to go in if you’re not ready.” You know how hard this must be for him. Even getting this far has been a feat for him, one that you understand all too well. “How long has it been since you’ve been here?” You ask, trying to distract him from the task at hand.

“Twenty years.” He says, swallowing hard.

“Well, you’re here now. That’s what matters most.” You whisper back and he turns to look at you.

“Thank you, for coming with me.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” You assure him as you squeeze his hand again.

“I don’t think I can do it today.” He says finally and you nod.

“And that’s okay. We can come back, it’ll still be here.” You lean your head against his shoulder, gently. “Maybe in the summer? We can come back, go to the beach, maybe repaint the house ourselves. I’m sure it’s beautiful here then.” He nods, absently. “Should we go back?” You ask and when he nods again, you lead him back to the car. He doesn’t seem ready to drive yet so you lead him to the passenger side, taking the keys from the pocket of his coat.

You slide into the driver’s seat, typing something into your phone as you shift the car into drive. “Where are we going?” Bradley asks and you smile, turning to him.

“Do you trust me?” He nods, smiling absently at the echo of his words to you this morning and you set off.

***

You pull into the abandoned parking lot excitedly. In the summer you’re sure that it’s packed to bursting but with the clouds in the sky and the chill in the air promising snow there’s no one else out. Jumping out of the car you take in deep lungfuls of the salty air. It reminds you of home. Bridgeport is on the ocean too and it's been too long since you’ve seen the Atlantic Ocean. The giddiness takes over and you hardly wait for Bradley to follow you before you’re racing for the sand-covered walkway that leads to the beach. Your heels catch in the sand as you descend off a rickety set of stairs and you let out a laugh before bending to take them off. You pull off your socks before gasping at the cold sand under your bare feet.

“Honey, put your socks back on, you’re going to freeze your toes!” Bradley calls, voice firm but you let out a shriek-like giggle as you sprint off across the cold sand towards the water. “Honey!” Bradley calls you out but you keep running, silently daring him to chase you. You don’t look behind you until he’s scooping you up from behind and you let out a shriek. “Now where do you think you’re going, Honey, hmm?” He rumbles into your ear but you can hear the smile in his voice.

“To touch the water, obviously.” You pout up at him, blowing stray pieces of hair out of your face as he rolls his eyes.

“You absolutely are not.” He scolds and you squirm in his arms, trying to get free but he just tightens his grip and you’re not getting anywhere now. “You’ll freeze every single one of those pretty fingers and toes off.” You bat at his face and he catches one of your fingers in his teeth gently, not enough to hurt you. You stop your struggling and he releases the digit. “And where are the gloves I bought you?” You shrug, eyes dancing with humor. “Absolutely ridiculous.” He says, shaking his head.

“I wanna touch the water.” You announce and he shakes his head.

“You heard me, Honey, absolutely not. It’s going to be freezing.”

“I said I wanted to touch it, not go for a swim!” You argue and he takes a long look at your pouting face before he sighs and starts walking towards the water and you grin, knowing you’ve won. You lean up and kiss his cheek loudly and he rolls his eyes. When you get close enough to the surf he squats down, not letting you down and you reach down to touch the water. It is, indeed, freezing. A shiver runs down your spine and Bradly pulls you closer. He stands back up and jogs further up the beach where the water can’t reach and he sits down in the sand, you in his lap. He holds out one hand in silent request and you relinquish your socks to him as he reaches down with the other to rub your exposed toes, and you hiss as he warms them up before slipping your socks back on. You squiggle out of his lap as he lets your feet go and he scowls at you.

“Honey, where do you think you’re going?” You look back at him like he’s insane.

“Where do you think I’m going? We’re at the beach, we have to build a sandman!” He groans, getting up and following you as you scoot closer to the water but still staying far enough away that your socks stay dry. He’s carrying your heels now and watches as you squat down to make a small snowman out of damp sand. You pick around and find some shell fragments for eyes and start looking around for twigs to use as arms, when Bradley reaches past you, pulling two toothpicks from his pocket that you recognize from the pizza place. He pokes them into the sandman as makeshift arms and you let out a noise of approval. “When he washes away, he’ll bring us good dreams.” You explain. “But if you leave the beach without making one, you’ll have nightmares. At least, that’s what my mom used to say.” You have a rueful smile on your face as you turn to him. He nods in understanding before standing and reaching a hand out to pull you up after him. This time you don’t complain when he swings you into his arms, crossing the sand with you in his arms as the sun creeps down the sky towards the horizon.

As the two of you drive back to D.C. in the comfortable silence that you’ve come to associate with being with Bradley, Cyndie Lauper’s voice reminds the two of you that “If you're lost you can look and you will find me, time after time. If you fall, I will catch you, I'll be waiting, time after time.”

A/N: Lots of feelings in this chapter, and really special one to write. Next chapter is another Bradley POV, I hope y’all are ready 👀

#you catch more bees with honey // sdd #ycmbwh // sdd #san diego dogfighters #san diego dogfighters au #san diego dogfighters hockey au #tgm hockey au #top gun maverick hockey au #TGM #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #Bradley Bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #Bradley rooster bradshaw x you #rooster x reader #rooster x you #no use of y/n

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goldenseresinretriever · 1 month

Text

False Confidence: Chapter 1

Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, discussion of sexual harassment, angst, fluff, fake relationship, suggestive language, school system inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 4k

A/N: It’s been a hot minute but we’re back!!!

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

Your brain short circuits. He’s kissing you. This complete stranger is kissing you. It’s been years since someone kissed you. You let out a squeak of surprise and he takes advantage of your open mouth to slide his tongue in. You’re dumbfounded now. You’ve definitely never been kissed like this. You’ve seen it before, of course, in movies, and on TV. You even walked in on Jeremy and one of the first-grade teachers in the copy room by accident once. But you never imagined that you’d ever get kissed like this. It’s all hunger and you feel like you’re being devoured, every rational thought fleeing your head as you’re overwhelmed by the new sensations. You’re not kissing him back, but frankly, that’s because you have no idea how. You barely know how to kiss normally but this? This is completely new territory. You’re stiff as a board as his hands go to your waist, squeezing and kneading the flesh there. You’re dizzy from all the new sensations and you think you might combust.

“JAVY MACHADO, GET AWAY FROM HER!” Josie’s voice breaks through the haze and the man pulls away. You watch a string of saliva connect your mouths before snapping like the tension between you. Your senses flood back and you stumble away from the man, Javy, shoving at his shoulders in the process, a mortified squeak escaping your lips. He doesn’t move an inch and you’re acutely aware of how much pure muscle he’s made of.

You hear the crack before you register that Josie’s crossed the short distance between you and slapped Javy across the face. Your eyes widen in horror at the brazen act of violence as you take in the fierce protectiveness in Josie’s eyes. To his credit, Javy looks surprised too, raising a hand to touch the warming skin of his cheek.

“Jo, what’s going on!” Reuben is jogging down the hallway behind her, shock on his face as he takes in the scene unfolding before him.

“This pig just assaulted Roadie!” She exclaims and you’re still frozen where you stand but you can feel the strange feeling of your kiss-swollen lips. Reuben turns to you and takes in your mortified expression before rounding on Javy.

“Javy, what the fuck man? What’s going on?” You’ve never seen Reuben genuinely angry. Usually, he’s pretty easygoing and you’re surprised by the thunderous expression on his face. Javy looks equally surprised as the older man glares down at him.

“I didn’t know who she was!” Javy protests, but Josie just levels a glare at him as she moves to place a protective arm around your trembling shoulders.

“What’s going on?” A hard voice interrupts Javy’s pleas and you all turn to see a blonde man striding down the hall. He’s classically handsome but right now his eyebrows are pinched together as he surveys the scene in front of him. He crosses his muscular arms across his chest as he levels a hard stare at Javy who meets it with one of his own. The two are locked in a silent battle until the click of high heels on the concrete floor sounds and a woman dressed in a suit rounds the corner, her lips pinched in a thin line. She walks up to the blonde and regards the two men locked in silent conversation before turning to Reuben, Josie, and you.

“Alright, someone needs to tell me what’s going on right now.”

Javy takes a deep breath but doesn’t break eye contact with the blonde as he answers, “I kissed her.” The woman’s eyebrows furrow as she scans the crowd and lights on you at last. You see her eyes widen slightly with surprise, moving to Josie’s arm around your shoulder before tearing her gaze back to Javy.

“You kissed her?”

“Kissed her, my ass. Your tongue was halfway down her throat when I found you.” Josie scoffs from beside you and you flinch instinctively in embarrassment as you’re reminded of the way Javy kissed you. The woman’s eyes snap to you at the movement and you watch her eyebrows furrow in concern.

“Consensually?” She asks, directed at you but you can’t find your voice. There are too many people here. You know Josie and Reuben but there are three complete strangers all fixing their attention on you and you feel your throat dry out. Swallowing doesn’t help and your heartbeat quickens at the realization that they're waiting for you. Your whole body is still in fight-or-flight and your brain is screaming at you to just answer while the rest of you refuses to comply. Josie catches onto the change in your breathing as you start to hyperventilate shallowly. The hand on your shoulder squeezes gently, trying to ground you but you’re losing control quickly. You faintly hear Reuben call your name but the sound is far away as you retreat into yourself. You’re shutting down even as you’re trying to fight it, to keep yourself together until you have some privacy. There are voices speaking but you’re not paying attention, trying your best to focus on the sound of your breathing as you struggle to get it under control. You’re losing the battle with your mind when there’s a comforting hand on your arm, gently leading you away and while you don’t catch the accompanying words, you follow willingly, happy to escape the nightmare.

***

The next morning you’re feeling better. You’ve pushed the memory of last night into a dark corner of your mind, eager to get back to your regular life. You never have to see him again. You have an out from future hockey games and events involving the players. For now, you’re just trying to move forward, putting last night’s events in your past, out of sight and out of mind. You’re only thinking of the future when you arrive at work this morning. You decide to duck into the teacher’s lounge in search of coffee before your students start arriving and while you had planned for your detour to be quick and unnoticeable like they usually are, your entrance is heralded by a wolf whistle from Jeremy who’s leaning against the counter by the coffee maker. You freeze on the spot, just barely through the doorway, pinned by a pair of hazel eyes that dance with dangerous amusement.

“Damn, Roadie, I honestly didn’t think you had it in you.” His thin lips curl into a smirk that sends shivers running down your spine as confusion clouds your face. “After Dan’s little announcement yesterday, I’ll admit, I was worried about you, but you managed to surprise even me.” Your brow furrows in confusion and he examines your expression, cocking his head to the side. H you’re not sure what he finds in your expression but his smirk widens and then he turns to his phone, swiping at the screen a few times before he spins it around so you can see its contents and your stomach drops to the floor.

You can’t breathe. You’re pretty sure your heart has stopped breathing as you take in the image on his screen. You’re looking at yourself and dread fills your veins like ice as you take in the image of you and Javy from last night. In your panic, you hadn’t realized the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the San Diego night and you’d definitely not spotted the sneaky photographer that had managed to capture the intimate moment between you and Javy. His hands are squeezing your hips in the photo and you feel the ghost of their pressure on them now as the memory you’d struggled to bury in the back of your mind shoots back to the front. From the angle, it’s not possible to tell that you’re ramrod straight and not kissing him back. It’s the perfect picture of a clandestine tryst and you feel your stomach lurch, threatening to empty its meager contents onto the floor of the teacher’s lounge.

Jeremy’s smirk widens at the blatant look of horror on your face. You’re speechless but saved from responding when a firm hand snatches up Jeremy’s phone. “Where’d you get this, Jeremy?” Josie’s voice is surprisingly calm as she examines the trans wreck on his screen while you struggle to find a way to make the world stop crumbling around you. Josie’s voice sounds like it’s underwater as she tears into Jeremy, demanding the details but you’re drowning in the loudness of your mind. It’s all white noise that’s getting louder and louder.

You don’t register when Josie grabs your arm, steering you out of the teacher’s lounge, only coming back to the present when her hands are on your cheeks. You blink as her brown eyes bore into yours. “I said, are you okay, Roadie?” You start to nod until she gives you a disbelieving look and then switch to shaking your head. She nods, keeping her hands on your face, grounding you. “Can you teach? Because you’re going to have twenty-four kids that need you to be present in about fifteen minutes.” You swallow, then. The reminder of your kids grounding you better than anything else.

“Yes.” You say firmly and she nods, releasing your face. Determination fills your body and chases away the blind panic and anxiety. No matter what’s going on in your personal life, for the next seven hours your kids need you so you’ll be there. It’s one thing you refuse to give ground on. As a teacher, you’re responsible for your twenty-four students and you’re fiercely protective of them. School is a place that should be safe and nurturing for them, and they deserve to have as much stability as possible here. That means that you bring the best version of yourself every day, rain or shine. You glance back at the teacher’s lounge mournfully. “So much for grabbing coffee,” you mutter and Josie squeezes your shoulder gently.

“You go get set up, I’ll get you the coffee.” You give her a tired smile as she shoos you back towards your classroom.

“Thank you, Josie.” You call back to her as she heads back towards the lion’s den that is the teachers’ lounge. No doubt, Jeremy’s not the only one to have seen the photo and even if he was, he’s definitely busy showing it to anyone with eyes.

“That’s what friends are for, Roadie.” She reminds you with a kind smile.

***

“What the FUCK did you think you were doing?” Javy winces at the harsh tone of Zam, his PR rep who looks ready to dive over the desk separating them to strangle him. It’s been a long morning. Ever since the paparazzi photos from last night came out, Zam has been doing everything within her power to play damage control. Of course, he feels guilty. She’s one of his best friends. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t think she’s overreacting. It’s not the first time a photo of him and a woman has gotten out. They're a dime a dozen at this point. If it’s not the paparazzi leaking them, it’s the girls themselves, proud of their one-night-stand with an NHL player. It’s not like he tries to hide from the cameras, he doesn’t really mind them. Why else would his meet-up spot with puck bunnies be a hallway with floor-to-ceiling windows?

“I told you already, I didn’t know who she was! I thought she was a puck bunny! Look, I said I was sorry, why are you making such a big deal about this?!” Zam lets out an astounded laugh at that and he gets an unexpected smack to the back of the head. Yelping in surprise, he turns to glare at his best friend, and captain of the Dogfighters, Jake Seresin where he’s leaning against the wall behind Javy. Jake’s face is stormy as he glares at Javy. “What the fuck, man!” Javy snaps and Jake’s hands clench into fists.

“What the fuck? What the fuck is that you’re not taking this even remotely seriously.” He snaps, anger lacing his words.

“Why should I! It’s just some pictures! That happens almost every night, why is it suddenly intervention-worthy? I didn’t even sleep with her, it’s just a kiss.” Zam scoffs behind him and he turns to face her again and her face is a mask of quiet rage.

“I’d love to see how that holds up in court if she sues for sexual assault.” Javy’s blood runs cold.

“What? She wouldn’t.” Suddenly not even he believes the shaky words.

“You kissed her, initiated physical contact, and groped her non-consensually. Not to mention there’s photographic evidence.” Zam’s voice is cold and bitter as she glares at him. “And if you say ‘it’s just a kiss’ one more fucking time I’m going to bring Bugs in here so you can say it to her face.”

Javy feels like he’s had a bucket of ice water dumped on him as shame spreads through his body. He looks down at his hands, unable to meet Zam’s eyes. Bugs, the team physician and Jake’s girlfriend, had been forcibly kissed by one of her superiors at her previous job and the ramifications of that assault had almost ruined her career. He loves Bugs, she’s his friend, his best friend’s girl, and one hell of a doctor. The reminder of the pain she’s been through is like a knife to his heart and the fact that he’d just hurt another girl the way she’d been hurt is a harsh wake-up call.

“I-I didn’t mean to hurt her.” He murmurs, knowing the words don’t even begin to right the wrong he’s caused but he can’t stay silent.

“Well, you can explain that to her when she gets here,” Zam says and he can hear the exhaustion in her voice as his head shoots back up. You’re coming here? Zam must see the question in his eyes since she offers up the answer without him having to ask. “I asked her to come here so we can try to settle this without getting lawyers involved and blowing this up any bigger than it already is. She pauses before adding, “Josie called this morning and said she’s not doing great.” Zam grimaces in solidarity with the girl that Javy realizes he doesn’t even know the name of. Guilt twists the knife even tighter in his chest.

“They’re just in here,” a familiar voice says on the other side of the door to Zam’s office, and after knocking, Nat walks in followed by you and Josie Fitch. Natasha is one of the equipment managers for the Dogfighters and she and Javy have been friends since high school. They played for the boys and girls hockey teams respectively but became close when they took junior English together. She’s one of his oldest friends and the tired look she gives him makes him want to sink through his chair and the floor. Josie directs you to sit in the chair next to Javy and he shifts to give you space, wanting you to feel comfortable. One glance at your posture, however, tells him that’s not happening anytime soon. Your shoulders are tense and your hands are trembling as you clasp them in your lap. In that moment, staring at you as just a girl, not a puck bunny, he sees how terrified you are, and protectiveness battles with guilt in his heart. He’s sickly reminded of his youngest sister as he watches you pick at the bright blue fabric of your dress where it falls over your knees.

***

You’re nervous. It’s to be expected. You didn’t expect to come back to Hard Deck arena ever again, and definitely not so soon. Even then, you never expected to see Javy Machado again, at least not without glass separating you from the hockey rink. He’s dressed in simple athletic wear and doesn’t seem so scary without all the extra hockey padding. He has his hands casually resting on the desk of the woman you recognize from last night. She has a worried look on her face as she offers you a gentle smile.

“Hi there,” she addresses you by your name, introducing herself as Zam, the Dogfighters’s PR rep, before clasping her hands on the table and you catch sight of her perfectly manicured nails. “I want to apologize profusely for last night and all the ensuing chaos. I called you here today so that we can make sure we’re on the same page. I also wanted to see if we could settle any potential legal concerns amidst ourselves before getting any lawyers involved.” Your eyes widen in surprise.

“Legal concerns?” Your stomach is a mess of nerves at the idea of getting sued.

“You’re well within your rights to sue for sexual assault, Roadie,” Josie speaks up and you turn to look at her, surprise on your face. Her expression is hard and you look back to Zam. She looks tired but you see the understanding and solidarity in her eyes even as she tries to do her job, even if it goes against her personal feelings onthe matter.

“What? No, I wouldn’t even consider that!” You burst out, still taken by surprise at the mere suggestion. Zam’s eyes widen in surprise as she takes in your words.

“Why not?” Josie pipes up and you shake your head.

“Plenty of reasons, starting with the fact that I can’t afford a lawyer.” You wince at the idea of how much legal representation would begin to cost compared to your meager teaching salary.

“Bullshit, we’ll pay for the lawyer if that’s what you want,” Josie says, protectiveness flaring up in her eyes.

“It’s not.” You say, voice still trembling slightly even as you force the hard edge into it. You turn back to face Zam. “I’m not suing, so you don’t have to worry about that.” You feel eyes burning into the side of your head and you turn to see Javy watching you with equal parts curiosity and apprehension.

“Hi,” he offers when he realizes he has your attention. “I’m Javy,” he extends a hand for you to shake before thinking twice about it and pulls it back. “I just wanted to say how sorry I am about what happened last night.” You think you see actual guilt flit through his eyes and you can tell he’s having trouble not averting his gaze. “I thought you were someone else and while that doesn’t make up for it, I really am sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” the brunette woman who led you to Zam’s office, Nat you think her name was, speaks up from where she’s leaning against the wall next to the blonde man. She glares at Javy and you almost feel bad for him as he grimaces.

“So, Roadie?” The blonde man from last night leaving against the wall says, eyebrow quirking curiously. You turn to him, surprised that he’s addressing you. “What’s that about?” Your face heats at the change in topic but you clear your throat to answer him.

“It’s a nickname from work,” you explain. “It’s short for Roadrunner like the Looney Tunes character because apparently I dash around a lot.”

“You do,” Josie says and you suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

“Well Roadie, I wish we’d met under better circumstances and I’m sorry about all this but it’s good to meet you, I’m Jake, Captain of the Dogfighters.” He holds out a hand that you take and shake, tentatively. His genial smile puts you at ease and you relax a little in your chair.

“Well, with that out of the way, let’s talk about how we’re going to move forward,” Zam says, taking back command of the room. “I’ve taken steps to protect your identity as much as possible, Roadie. If you still feel unsafe we can talk about a security detail or something more casual like having someone watch you from afar. I’ve also spoken to the principal of Acacia Academy about keeping things under wraps in case the press do find out where you work.” You nod cautiously, trying to process the influx of information. “Unfortunately I can’t make the photos go away but the paparazzi are fickle, they’ll move onto the next story as soon as they realize we’re not giving them anything.”

“But what if we did?” Josie speaks up then and all the attention turns to her. She’s got her thinking face on and you feel premature dread in your stomach as a thoughtful smile crosses her face.

“What do you mean?” Zam looks confused and it’s clear she’s as in the dark as everyone else.

“Well, you said it yourself, they’ll lose interest if we don’t give them anything. So why don’t we give them something? We have a golden opportunity that could be mutually beneficial.” Josie says, tilting her head in Javy’s direction. “Reuben tells me you’ve been trying to get this guy to settle down for months now. And Roadie,” she turns to you and you give her a confused look. “You need a solution to Dan’s new rule.” Your eyes widen in shock and horror as it dawns on you exactly what Josie’s suggesting.

“Wait, what rule?” Zam speaks up, her brow furrowed in confusion even as you can see the gears in her brain turning. “Who’s Dan?”

“Dan Jackson, the principal of Acacia. He’s trying to crack down on inter-departmental hookups so he said he’ll be looking at relationship status as one of the criteria for contract renewals for next year.”

“He can’t do that, that’s illegal,” Javy speaks up and you turn to him even as you grimace.

“It’s a private school and it’s not an official rule, just a ‘friendly suggestion,’” you sigh, defeatedly.

“You said you’re worried about the rule, Roadie? Now you have a golden opportunity to circumvent it.”

“What exactly are you suggesting?” Zam asks but even you can tell she understands exactly what Josie’s leading to.

“Break the story that Roadie and Javy are dating,” Josie says with a shrug like she’s just talking about the weather. “The playboy of the Dogfighters gets to settle down. The hermit crab gets a boyfriend.” You glare at her even as she winks at you. “Both parties benefit and it’s easier than the alternative.”

“This is ridiculous,” Javy scoffs with a laugh of incredulity. “Right, Zam?” He turns to her but she’s lost in thought.

“It could work.” She says finally and his jaw drops.

“You’re not serious.” He demands, eyes widening. She glares at him before turning to look at you, tentatively.

“Roadie is that something you would want?” You’re still in shock that this is up for debate at all.

“What about Javy? Doesn’t he get a say?” You stammer, trying to buy yourself some time. Zam rolls her eyes before giving Javy a firm look.

“He’s lucky he’s not getting sued right now, I think that’s enough of a say, don’t you?” You swallow, hard, looking to Javy who looks gobsmacked.

“Zam you can’t be serious,” he says, finally finding his voice again. He turns to Jake. “Tell her she’s crazy.”

Jake shrugs. “I think as long as Roadie is comfortable with it and it’s something she wants, it’s a pretty good plan. Zam’s been hounding you to clean up your act for months and you keep ignoring her. And I think you’ll keep ignoring her unless we do something and this is as good a something as anything. Plus,” he adds with a playful smirk, “waiting for a girl to fall out of the sky who’d actually be willing to date you could take years.” Josie and Nat both snort at that. You swallow hard at that. “Who knows, maybe a fake girlfriend will teach you how to be a real one.” A fake girlfriend. You feel your chest squeeze at that. A bitter voice in the back of your mind wonders how you’ve managed to find yourself in this situation yet again. At least this time you’re in on the joke. You shake off the pain that squeezes your heart and realize all eyes are on you.

“What? Sorry,” you stammer as you look from expectant face to expectant face.

Zam grins at you conspiratorially, you can see the curious excitement in her eyes. “What do you think, Roadie? Are you in?”

A/N: Should she take the offer? What do we think??

#false confidence // sdd #fc // sdd #san diego dogfighters au #san diego dogfighters #san diego dogfighters hockey au #top gun maverick hockey au #tgm hockey au #top gun #TGM #top gun maverick #javy Machado #javy machado x reader #javy machado x you #javy coyote machado x reader #javy coyote machado x you #javy coyote machado #coyote x you #coyote x reader #no use of y/n

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goldenseresinretriever · 5 months

Text

Snitches Get Stitches: Chapter 9

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Chapter CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, smut, mutual masturbation, medical inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies, legal inaccuracies. No use of Y/N. Any opinions on NHL teams expressed by my characters are not my own and describe fictional versions of these teams.

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: It’s been a minute, Dogfighters fans! I had to catch up on requests and then last week we celebrated 200 followers with our first ever press conference! Check out that in the tag “#sdd press conference” If you haven’t read Chapter 8.5 which is Jake’s POV of Chapter 8, you can find that here!

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

You wake to the scratch of unfamiliar fabric against your cheek. Blinking against the afternoon light that slips in through the curtains to your right, your eyes adjust and you realize you’re in a bed, an unfamiliar bed. Your chest tightens in panic, struggling to remember how you got here until a familiar scent hits your nostrils. Jake. The whole room smells like him but especially the bed. You relax into the mattress letting the scent envelop you and calm your racing heart. You’re in Jake’s bed, you’re safe. You’re in Jake’s bed. Your heart is pounding for a completely different reason now. Finally, your brain catches up to your situation and you remember everything: the car crash, Jake coming to get you, and you agreeing to stay at his place tonight. You groan as a dull throbbing in your head reminds you that you’re concussed. It doesn’t feel too serious and you’ll probably feel better in the morning but for now, you feel like shit.

You shift uncomfortably and your hand brushes something wet and a gentle whine questions you. You turn your head gingerly and smile as you see that Pudding is sprawled next to you, worry in her chocolate eyes as she nudges your hand with her nose gently. “Hey girl, where’s your dad, huh?” She whines again, lifting her huge head and scooting her fluffy body closer to you, dropping her head on your stomach and you chuckle, moving your hand to stroke the fur on her head. “I missed you too, baby. I think I messed things up with your dad. I’m sorry I wasn’t here this morning.” Your heart aches as you remember Jake leaving last night. And now you’re in his bed. You’re confused, to say the least, but you figure that’s just Jake’s big heart getting in the way of his head.

You should go home. Maybe you can call Zam and have her stay over to keep an eye on you. You glance around for your phone and see it on the nightstand, plugged into a charger you can only assume is Jake’s. It feels like it’s an ocean away due to the fact that, of course, your giant hockey player sleeps in a king-sized bed all by himself. Well not entirely by himself, you think as you continue to snuggle with Pudding. With her head on your stomach, you can’t get to your phone so you swallow down your anxiety and call for Jake. Your voice is scratchy from disuse and you cringe at the sound. Pudding shifts her head to look at the door and you hear footsteps approach the open doorway as Jake comes in, a mixture of concern and relief knitting his brow. He’s holding a glass of water with a straw in it, and he smiles at you as he turns on a lamp next to the bed, sitting down on the edge and leaning over to get a better look at you.

“Hey Bunny, how’re you feeling?” You smile back, suddenly shy under his gaze.

“Better. Thanks for letting me stay over.” He frowns at the scratchy sound of your voice and holds the glass near your mouth, letting the straw rest on your lips and you sip gratefully. You make the mistake of meeting his eyes as you suck at the straw and feel your cheeks heat at the intensity in them. A strand of your hair slips across your face as you shift to sit up a little and Jake instantly reaches to tuck it back behind your ear. Your breath catches as you drink and the water goes down the wrong pipe. You choke, coughing violently as you release the straw from your lips, turning to shield Jake from your coughs, and pounding your fist against your chest. His hand presses to your back, smoothing circles into it as you catch your breath. “Sorry,” you croak as you look back up at him, eyes watering from the burn of the water in your throat. You take the glass from his other hand, foregoing the straw to gulp down the water in an attempt to soothe the burning in your throat. You hand the glass back to him and he leans over to place it on the nightstand next to your phone. You motion for him to pass it to you. “I need to let Cyclone know I won’t be in tomorrow.” Jake shakes his head gently.

“Don't worry about that. Zam’s already taken care of that. I hope you don’t mind, but I gave her your keys and had her grab you some clothes.” You shake your head.

“Thanks.”

“Just wanted to make sure you would be comfortable here.”

“I’m always comfortable here.” You whisper so low that you're not sure he heard you. “Though I feel bad hogging your bed, isn’t there a guest room I could use instead?” You shift nervously. You think you see his cheeks pinken slightly but it could just be a trick of the lamplight.

“Yeah but it’s not set up yet, it’s kind of a mess right now. I haven’t had time to put the bed together yet with my leg and all that.” Your eyes widen.

“Wait then where are YOU sleeping?” He’d invited you into his home without a second thought but now you were dreading his answer

“The couch is just fine for me, Bunny.” Your face fell.

“Jake! I can’t kick you out of your bed in your own home AND make you sleep on the couch!” He chuckles, reaching to trace formless shapes on the back of your hand.

“Don’t you worry about me, Bunny. You’re the patient today. Just let me take care of you.”

You pout up at him, frowning. “You’re still my patient too, you know. It's only fair for me to want to take care of you too.” Jake squeezes his eyes shut and groans.

“Please don’t remind me, Bunny.”

“Remind you of what?”

“That I’m your patient.” You frown again.

“Well tough shit, Lola, you are.” The corners of his mouth raise even as his eyes stay squeezed shut.

“I love it when you call me that.” He says, actively fighting the smile stretching across his face.

“You said it yourself, Jake. We’re a team.” You giggle and Jake peeks at you out of one eye, groaning again.

“Bunny, you’re killing me.” You feel your face heat in embarrassment. For the first time since you called Jake after the accident, you think about what you’re doing here. You called him immediately, screaming for him, and then you practically climbed him like a tree the moment he arrived, and now you’re flirting with him while lying in his bed. All after you’d practically begged him to keep your relationship professional. You’d thrown that all away over the course of the last twenty-four hours and now all you could feel was shame, hanging your head.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is a whisper and you hate how it wavers. “I’m so sorry, Jake.”

“Bunny…” You peek up, unable to lift your head, and look at him directly. His eyes are open and gazing at you with a look that knocks the air out of your lungs. His hand reaches out, gripping your chin lightly and tilting your head up to look back at him.

“Jake…” You hate the way he can hear the tears in your voice, and he can surely see them blurring your vision. “Jake, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be here, I shouldn’t have called you. I’m so sorry.”

“Bunny, no.” His hand shifts to cup your jaw, the cool pad of his thumb stroking over the heated apple of your cheek. “I’m so glad you called me, Bunny, that you trust me enough to call me.” His smile is rueful, his eyes holding so much gentleness that you don’t deserve.

“But I asked you to be professional and then all I’ve done is not be, and,” you swallow, trying to stop the trembling that’s taken over your shoulders. “I’m making a mess of everything.” The words are choked as you force them out.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s not your fault, baby. Don’t you dare blame yourself.” His lips press into a line, the grip on your jaw tightening, thumb still stroking your cheek with contrasting gentleness.

“But it is, Jake. It’s all my fault. You got in a fight today because of me. Then I wrecked your truck. Those could have been PR nightmares if the wrong people were there and I’m playing with not just my career but your career too and all because I can’t think straight around you anymore because I’m just so in love with you.” Your voice breaks in a sob and your shoulders shake as the dam in your eyes shatters and tears make their way down your cheeks, blurring your vision so drastically that you can’t see the look on Jake’s face until you swipe at your eyes, and your heart stops at the look on his face.

You’re not sure that Jake’s breathing. There are tears in his eyes and his fingers are trembling where they’re holding your face. “You’re in love with me?” You’ve never heard him sound so tentative. Not even when he told you about his leg or his coach.

You swallow hard, laughing softly as you reach out a hand to lay it softly against his rough cheek, nodding. All the fear, guilt, and shame melt away and all you can see is this beautiful, strong man so shocked that you could possibly love him when you couldn’t imagine not. “Jake Seresin, I love you so much that it genuinely scares me.” You avert your eyes as your confession makes you shy all over again under the intensity of his gaze. Your eyes dart back up though as Jake leans his forehead against yours and you can taste the breath that leaves his lips.

“If you go, I go, Bunny.” He whispers the words against your lips and they don’t sound like a secret, they sound like a prayer. Before they can slip away into the liminal space that’s Jake’s bedroom and run away forever, leaving the two of you in the dim light, you seal them forever between your lips as you close the gap. Jake kisses you back instantly and while you can taste the desperation in his lips, he’s slow, and gentle, taking time that the two of you don’t have. Because after this? You’re officially living on borrowed time until everything falls apart around you, but in this moment you can’t be bothered to care anymore because the man you love so much it hurts is holding you like you’re the most precious thing in the entire world. You sigh against his mouth as he nips at your lower lip, tongue sliding against the seam begging for entrance. He takes advantage of your parted lips, sweeping in, stroking his tongue along yours as you feel the weight of Pudding’s head lift from your stomach and then Jake’s arms are hauling you up, awkwardly into his lap. It’s perfect for all of five seconds before your head throbs at the sharp movement and then it feels like you’re spinning as your hands grip Jake’s shoulders trying to ground yourself. Jake must notice something’s wrong because he pulls away, concern in his eyes as they search your face as it twists into a grimace and you press your forehead against his roughly, hoping to alleviate the throbbing.

“Bunny? You okay?” Jake strokes your hair gently as his brow furrows against your forehead.

“Head hurts.” You grit out. “Feel dizzy.” He’s pulling away then and you whimper at the loss of contact until he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I’m not entirely sure about the medical benefits of kissing it better but it’s worth a shot. I’m gonna grab you some Tylenol just in case.” You pout at him as he pulls away and slides back across the bed before leaving the room. “I’ll be right back.” He promises but you still feel your heart ache once he’s out of view. You turn to give Pudding a longing look and she returns it.

“Pud, I love him so much.” You whisper as you reach over to give her head a scratch and she nuzzles your hand in agreement. You bathe in comfortable silence for a few minutes as you wait for Jake before you finally let the words escape your lips nervously. “Do you think he loves me?” Sure he’d said it back in his own way, but the cynical part of your brain is itching with uneasiness until Jake’s voice pulls your attention back to the doorway where he’s leaning against the frame, holding the refilled glass of water and pill bottle, gazing at you and Pudding with so much unabashed adoration is his eyes.

“I would say so.” Your cheeks flush at being caught in your moment of vulnerability. Jake crosses the room, climbing back on the bed, giving Pudding a scratch before lacing his fingers with yours and guiding you back against the pillows as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. “I love you more than you can imagine, Bunny.” You feel your tears from earlier threatening to make a second appearance as he strokes your cheek with the hand that’s not holding yours, littering your lips with quick pecks. You whimper under him as his lips change trajectory to the side of your mouth to trace the line of your jaw. He pauses as he gets to the sensitive underside of your jaw, nosing at the spot gently, before pressing a revering kiss there. “And as much as I want to show you exactly how much, you need to get some rest.” You whine at his words, reaching your free hand from where it’s been fisting the sheets under you to thread through his golden locks, pulling him up to look at you.

“You’re such a tease.” He grins at your pout before pressing a kiss to it, giving your hand one last squeeze before he sits up to grab the pills and water. You sit up slowly, adjusting the pillows to prop you up as Jake hands the glass and you take the pills obediently before slouching back against the pillows, content to gaze at Jake as he traces formless shapes on your legs. You groan, exhausted, as you gaze down at the slacks and blouse you wore today instead of your usual scrubs. Discomfort settles over you and you scowl as you sit up, scanning the room for the clothes Jake mentioned earlier.

“Looking for something, Bunny?”

“The clothes you mentioned. I need out of these dress clothes.” He chuckles as you scrunch your nose up in distaste before sliding off the bed and grabbing a familiar duffel bag from the floor, passing it to you.

“That’s what Zam brought, do you need help getting to the bathroom?” You hesitate but the idea of faceplanting on Jake’s floor isn’t ideal so you nod, reaching out a hand for him to help you get across the ocean of sheets but when Jake pulls you along, he doesn’t stop with just helping you to the edge of your bed. Instead, he swings you into his arms, keeping a firm hold on your butt as he reaches back to grab the duffel bag and swing it over the shoulder you’re not leaning on before readjusting you in his arms and carrying you towards a closed door across the room despite your protests.

“Jake, I can walk, I promise! You shouldn’t be carrying me with your knee still healing!” You scowl at him but he just leans over and kisses the tip of your nose before depositing you on the bathroom counter. He places the bag next to you and you open it before letting out a long groan, leaning your head back against the mirror. You can’t believe Zam, truly.

“Everything okay?” Jake asks cautiously and you can tell he’s fighting the urge to look in your bag and see what’s bothering you so much. You just sigh and pull out the shirt on top, unfurling it so he can see it and you watch the grin spread across his face as he takes in the familiar shade of green. “I don’t see the problem here, Bunny.” He’s laughing, his shit-eating grin so wide that his dimples are prominent as you lower the Dallas Stars shirt with Jake’s face plastered all over it and SERESIN emblazoned across the front, with the number 86 on the back facing you. You roll your eyes, if he wants something to laugh at, you can give him something to laugh at. Setting the shirt down next to you, you pull your blouse over your head and you hear his laughter falter. You smirk at him as his green eyes go wide at the sight of your plain cotton black bra. “B-bunny, what are you doing?” Your fingers drop to the button of your slacks and you arch an eyebrow at him as you unbutton them, the sound of the zipper deafening as you push your butt up just enough to wiggle your pants down and they slide down your legs to fall to the floor in a puddle. You don’t know what’s brought on this confidence that’s so unlike you, but confessing your feelings to Jake and having him reciprocate them has you feeling bold.

“Changing.” You say as innocently as you can, still smirking at him as he groans. Emboldened by the sound of pure desire from his lips, you readjust yourself, shifting your legs so he gets a flash of the dampening fabric between them before reaching for the shirt.

“Bunny.” You smile wider at the sound of desperation, giggling at him.

“No physical activity when you’re concussed, remember Jake? Complete rest is necessary for the first couple of days.” He groans again, staring at you like he’s just barely holding himself back, one hand dropping to the front of his shorts and your eyes follow to where you can just see the outline of his growing erection. You trap your lip between your teeth as you suppress a groan yourself as Jake gasps his cock through his shorts, head falling back at the sensation. He lifts it to gaze at you through half-lidded eyes swimming with desire. You let your hand trail down your body before sliding it past the waistband of your panties and Jake growls.

“Bunny-” He’s cut off by your loud moan as your fingers ghost over your clit, your legs falling open of their own accord, showing off the dark spot on your green panties and the outline of your fingers behind them, teasing your dripping slit with delicate touches, your breath coming out in short pants.

“Jake!” You whine his name as the sensations overwhelm you and your finger lingers on your clit, shifting from ghosting touches to rubbing in a circular motion over the aching bud.

“Fuck, Bunny!” Jake’s shorts are pooled around his ankles and he’s leaned against the wall opposite you, his hand slipped into his own underwear, stroking his length in shaky movements as he watches you chase your pleasure.

You shift forward so you’re hanging off the counter as you speed up your movements, the coil in your belly tightening faster than you’d anticipated at the sight of Jake about to cum in his boxers at the sight of you. You let your body slump back against the mirror behind you, the cool surface soothing your sweat-slicked back. You’re chanting his name like a prayer as you get closer, your movements going faster as you feel the wrist grasping the counter begin to burn with the strain of making sure you don’t slide off as your slick soaks through your panties.

“Bunny!” Jake cries out your name as his body goes slack, his movements turning sloppy as he works himself through his peak, and the sight of him lost to his own pleasure pushes you over the edge and you answer his cries with ones of your own as you go boneless on the counter, your fingers rubbing tight circles as you ride the wave of your orgasm.

Your wrist gives out and you feel your body begin to slide down the counter. You use the last of your strength to claw at the marble to stop your fall, but strong arms wrap around your bare thighs as Jake crosses the bathroom just in time to catch you. You blink up at him in orgasmic bliss as he gathers you against his chest. You feel the damp spot on the front of his boxers against your thigh as you listen to the beat of his heart as it struggles to slow after the exertion you’ve both partaken in. “I love you, Jake.” You whisper against his chest as he strokes over your hair gently.

“I love you too, Bunny.” He presses a tender kiss to the crown of your head as he holds you close.

***

You’re back in Jake’s bed, freshly showered and dressed in clean underwear and the shirt with Jake’s face all over it. After your strength came back, Jake had left you in his bathroom to shower while he took the guest one and now you were waiting for him to come back. Pudding is snuggled against your left side and you’re hoping her dad will join on your right. The door swings open and Jake comes in, pajama pants slung low on his hips as he sits gently on the edge of the bed, offering his hand to your outstretched one.

“Will you stay?” You ask, hesitantly, gazing up at him shyly.

“Do you want me to stay?” He rubs his thumb along the back of your entangled hands. You nod and Jake doesn’t hesitate to pull back the covers and slide underneath. You reach for him and he chuckles, scooting close and you curl up against his warm chest, breathing in the scent you know so well plus a crisp coating of cleanness. “You comfy, Bunny?”

“Very.” You assure him as he chuckles and you feel the rumble under your cheek, sighing contentedly. “Jake?”

“Yes, Bunny?”

You hate to ruin the mood but you need to know what’s happening before you let yourself truly fall away from all reason. “Will you still be here when I wake up?” Jake reaches a hand to stroke your hair and he presses a kiss there and you feel him nod against your head.

“I’ll be here. I told you. if you go, I go.” Your heart aches.

“This isn’t going to be easy,” you say, idly tracing shapes on his bare chest.

“That’s fine with me, sweetheart, I can do hard.” You hear the smirk in his voice and swat at his chest but without any real force. He pauses before he asks, “Zam said she was working on something? What’s that about?” You sigh.

“It seems we weren’t as subtle as we thought we were being. Zam caught on and then she said she’d see if she could find some way to help us make this work.” Jake’s hand shifts to your back as he thinks.

“Zam really is the best, isn’t she, Bunny?”

“She really is.” You smile softly, pausing before you ask. “So we’re doing this?”

“I’m in if you are, Bunny. We’re a team, remember?” You press a gentle kiss to his chest at his sweet words.

“Yes, yes we are.”

A/N: They’re official! It’s been a long time coming but our favorite couple has officially sealed the deal~

#snitches get stitches // sdd #san diego dogfighters #san diego dogfighters au #san diego dogfighters hockey au #sgs // sdd #tgm hockey au #top gun maverick hockey au #top gun maverick #TGM #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman x you #no use of y/n

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goldenseresinretriever · 3 months

Text

You Catch More Bees With Honey: Chapter 9

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Chapter CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, mentions of sex, dead parents, mentions of major character death, mentions of physical violence, angst, age gap (28 and 38), enemies to lovers, suggestive language, hockey inaccuracies etc. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: I have the Bradley Bradshaw brainrot after this one, y’all

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

You wake the next morning in the extra bed in Javy’s room. Your lower body aches and you let out a groan. Sun filters in through the gap in the drawn curtains, illuminating the empty bed next to you. Javy must already be awake. You roll yourself to the edge of the bed, fumbling with the nightstand to find your phone. You’ve got your usual slew of notifications as well as a text from Javy letting you know that he’s gone to breakfast with some of the other guys and the bathroom is all yours. He also lets you know that there’s a room key on the table if you need to go anywhere. You pull yourself out of bed, wincing at the ache between your legs that refuses to let you forget that you slept with Bradley last night.

You don’t regret it. After all, you’ve never felt that much pleasure before, and now you know that your feelings for Bradley might be reciprocated. What you do regret is how you handled the aftermath. You’re used to administering your own aftercare, of course, but something about up and running while Bradley was in the bathroom has guilt clawing up your throat. If he did have any feelings for you, were they gone after the way you acted last night?

While Javy had brought you pajamas and a change of underwear last night, you still need your clothes for the day so you steel yourself to face Bradley and slip Javy’s room key and your phone into the pocket of your pajama bottoms. You force yourself down the hallway back to your room, hand hovering over the wood before you force yourself to knock. You hear the scuffle of feet on the other side and then the door swings open. Bradley’s dressed for the day already in a t-shirt and joggers that he’ll trade for his practice uniform once you get to the arena. You dig into the carpet with your bare toes, averting your eyes to watch as shame warms your cheeks. Bradley doesn’t let you get away with it for long, a single finger under your chin raising your eyes to his. You’re terrified of what you’ll find there but where you expected the white-hot anger that you’ve seen burn in the whisky depths before, you just see a tentative nervousness, like he’s afraid of how YOU’LL react, or how YOU feel. You feel your tears from last night threatening to resurface and you long to bury yourself in his arms while he promises you that everything’s going to be okay.

“You okay, Honey?” He asks softly, his voice a gravelly rumble and you feel your lips quiver as his thumb moves to stroke over your cheek and you lean into the touch as you consider your answer. Bradley seems to understand that you need some time to think so he nods to himself, not slowing the brush of his fingers before he speaks again. “I’m going to go grab some breakfast, so why don’t you shower, and then we can talk?” He’s putting the ball in your court, letting you make the next move and you nod against his finger on your chin.

“Bradley Bradshaw, are you calling me stinky?” Your voice is rough from fighting back tears.

He chuckles softly, and there’s pure affection in his eyes that almost sends you to your knees. He pinches your cheek gently. “The stinkiest.” Your laugh is watery and hesitant but it’s there and Bradley smiles, his shoulders relaxing like he’s just let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “There she is.” He whispers gently and your heart aches in answer. Then he’s letting you go and stepping past you to head out, you duck into the room and you’re alone with your feelings again.

Your bed is still rumpled from your nap yesterday and it’s clear that Bradley stayed in his own bed last night. You collect your clothes, pick a soft lilac pantsuit today, and disappear into the bathroom to shower. As you undress, you catch sight of your reflection in the mirror and you remember Bradley holding your hand and gaze in it yesterday and that ache is back in your chest. In a quest for the normal, you bump one of your favorite playlists and let yourself enjoy a leisurely shower, singing along to your favorites.

When you exit the bathroom, you feel significantly better. Bradley’s in his chair by the window, sipping coffee and scrolling on his phone. The smell of it and whatever he got for breakfast is tantalizing and you bemoan the fact that you probably won’t have time to find breakfast before you have to head back to the arena. Bradley looks up as you enter the room, giving you a soft smile. “Hey Honey, breakfast is on the table.” You blink, surprised as your eyes follow his pointing finger to the desk by the television that’s holding a brown paper bag and another coffee cup. Propelled forward by the promise of food and coffee, you dart over, examining the cup before you look at Bradley, surprised.

“How’d you know my coffee order?” You ask as you take a deep sip and groan appreciatively as the sweet and bitter mix drifts over your tongue, warming you from the inside out.

Bradley smirks at you, “I have my sources.” You arch a curious eyebrow at him over the top of the cup.

“You’ve been going through my trash, haven’t you?” You tease, a smile tugging at your lips as you take another sip. He laughs at that.

“Actually, I texted Mickey and asked. I had to guess on the sandwich though.” You smile at that and dig into the bag. You pull out a package wrapped in paper and when you unwrap it, you grin at the bagel sandwich that’s stuffed full of egg, cheese, and a truly sinful amount of bacon.

“Bacon, you remembered…” you murmur mostly to yourself. You seat yourself on the edge of Bradley’s bed so you can be next to him for that conversation he mentioned earlier. You chew quietly for a few minutes, enjoying the food and Bradley drinks his coffee silently, turning back to whatever he was looking at on his phone.

Finally, you finish your sandwich, crumpling the empty wrapper and setting it on the small side table next to Bradley’s coffee cup, fiddling with your own. “Bradley, can we talk?” You hate how weak and desperate your voice sounds but you try to ignore it. He sets his phone face down on the table and turns to give you his full attention.

“As long as you’re ready, I am, Honey.” You twist your cup between your hands as you search for the words you want to say to him.

“I’m really sorry, Bradley.” You hate the way your voice shakes as you get the apology out. “I got overwhelmed and it scared me and I was alone with my thoughts and they got too loud and I just up and disappeared and to another guy’s room at that, after you were so sweet to me and you did a lot of stuff you didn��t have to do,” his eyebrows raise at that but he remains quiet as you continue rambling. “I didn’t mean to make you worry because it was good, really really good actually. It wasn’t anything you did, I mean. The reason I left.” You’re running out of steam and your hands are trembling.

Bradley reaches out wordlessly, taking the cup from your hands before you can accidentally drop it, placing it on the side table before he takes your hands in his huge ones. His thumb rubs your skin in those steady strokes that always seem to calm you. “Can I ask you some questions, Honey?” His voice is gentle, tentative like he’s trying not to spook a horse and you nod. It’ll be easier for you to answer specific questions than talk freely and you think he’s realized that. “What do you mean, I did a lot of stuff I didn’t have to do?” Your cheeks heat as you remember Bradley’s tongue and hands on you, in you, drawing out your pleasure like it was his only goal.

“I… uh, you uh, you wanted to pleasure me?” You wince at the awkwardness in your words. Bradley’s body goes rigid at your words and you see gears turning in his mind that you can’t seem to grasp until he looks at you with so much fear and dread in his eyes that his words catch you completely off guard.

“Honey,… were you a virgin…?” You choke at the question that comes seemingly from left field as you shake your head fiercely.

“No, no! I’ve had sex before, a couple of times, well maybe more than a couple, I just, I’ve never had a guy who wanted to do that kind of stuff…” you trail off and you watch Bradley relax considerably.

“What kind of stuff, Honey? Eating you out? Fingering you?” You’re almost jealous at how easily he’s able to talk about this like it’s something as simple as the weather.

“All of it.” You mumble and his eyebrows raise again.

“Then what was sex like for you?” He asks it like it’s nothing and you can’t help but feel shame and anxiety wash over you at the idea of telling him about your sexual experience. His hands that are holding yours squeeze encouragingly. “I’m not doing this to make you uncomfortable, Honey, and I don’t want you to feel like it’s something you have to be ashamed about, I’m just trying to understand where your head’s at.” Your shoulders relax a little at his words. Bradley’s not going to judge you, he doesn’t want to. Just like last night, he just wants you to feel good and it’s hard for you to wrap your mind around.

“Sex was mostly about the guy,” you explain. “He’d get off and if I was lucky I would too but not by anything he did. I had to take care of myself.” Your cheeks heat as fury blazes in his eyes. “I haven't been in a relationship or had a boyfriend since before… everything…” you explain. “And back then we were so inexperienced that it wasn’t the focus. And after that, it was all hookups and well yeah, it wasn’t about me.” Your voice trails off to a whisper. Bradley nods, turning your words over in his mind.

“So that’s why you just went right for it?” He asks and you nod your cheeks heating at the memory of Bradley nearly splitting you in half without any foreplay. “Jesus, you scared me half to death last night, I thought I’d really hurt you.” The worry in his eyes makes your heart ache.

“I’m okay,” you reassure him. “A little sore but fine other than that.” He grimaces slightly at that.

“I’m sorry, I was going to check on it again when I cleaned you up but you left before I could get the chance.”

“When you cleaned me up…?” You blink at him, surprised and he groans, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling before coming back to look at you.

“Aftercare, Honey, it’s a really important part of sex, don’t tell me you’ve never had a guy take care of you after?” You shake your head. “Jesus Christ, what kind of guys have you been fucking, Honey?” You know it’s a rhetorical question but you answer to try and lighten the mood.

“Bad ones, apparently.” He snorts a laugh at that before his eyes get serious again.

“So where do we stand, Honey? I don’t want to pressure you into anything because you said you were overwhelmed and that’s not something I want you to feel again, at least not because of me.” He looks so earnest and makes your heart ache because all you want is to climb into his lap and have him hold you. You’ve never yearned to be in someone’s arms more.

“I… I like you… a lot, Bradley.” You swallow hard as the words pass your lips. “But this is all happening really really fast, too fast. Like I said, I haven’t been in a relationship in a really long time and I was a different person then… I-I don’t know if I know how to be in one as the person I am now. I think… I think I need us to slow down. That is if you even want an us. But if you do, we’re going to have to pump the brakes, by a lot. It’s all a little overwhelming right now, and I need to slow down. I need to be able to breathe.” His face softens and he squeezes your hands gently.

“After last night, you really think I don’t want an us, Honey?” You look away, embarrassed when he phrases it so simply.

“I thought maybe your feelings might have gone away once we had sex…” You mutter and then his finger is under your chin again, guiding your eyes back to his.

“They haven’t, they're very much still there. And if you need to take things slow, we’ll take it slow. You set the pace, Honey. Like I said, the last thing I want is to overwhelm you.”

“W-would it be okay if we didn’t kiss…” you sputter the words out before you lose your nerve. “I-I just I’m not used to it and uh, I just-“ you pause since you’d expected Bradley to cut you off by now but he just nods.

“You set the pace, Honey. Tell me what you’re comfortable with and what you’re not and then we can move forward.”

“Uh… no kissing, on the lips at least, um, forehead and cheek and stuff are okay I think?” Your cheeks heat at the fact that Bradley’s giving you this kind of power, to tell him what you’re comfortable with and he’ll just respect that without arguing. “Definitely no sex… but hugging yes, cuddling would be nice.” You feel your cheeks heat more as Bradley’s mouth twists into a soft smile. Then he’s tugging your hand and pulling you into his arms. You relax instantly, melting against him. He presses his lips to your temple gently before whispering into your ear.

“This all good for you, Honey?”

“Perfect.” You whisper and nuzzle against his chest softly.

“Honey, can I ask you one last question?” You nod. “I know we’re slowing things down but we’re still an us, yes? There’s… there’s nothing going on between you and Javy… right? He told me there wasn’t.” You can hear it then, the hesitation in his words like he’s afraid that you’ll break his heart. You sit up at that, face-to-face with him, meeting his beautiful chocolate eyes with your own. You reach to stroke his cheek gently.

“There’s nothing going on between me and Javy. I’m not trying to catch a venereal disease. Honestly, I’m surprised we’re even friends.” Bradley barks out a laugh and his chest vibrates against you, making you smile. “And yeah, we’re an us. You’re the first person I’ve wanted to be anything with in a long time.” You tuck your head under his chin and he pulls you closer. “Thank you, Bradley.”

“For what, Honey?” You can feel the rumble of his throat as he answers you.

“For being okay with all of it, with me.” You murmur against his chest. His arms tighten around you.

“Always, Honey, always.”

***

The game is mostly uneventful. The boys put up a good effort but ultimately lost, 4-3. The mood on the bus back to the hotel was grim, the tension palpable, but the boys seemed to have slept it off as spirits were mixed this morning as the team boarded the jet to your next destination, Washington D.C. The match against the Capitals isn’t until Thursday, so the boys will be afforded some well-deserved downtime. You’re once again rooming with Bradley per Cyclone’s orders which you’re more comfortable with now that the two of you have set defined boundaries.

You can’t help the nerves that claw at your stomach when you think about them. Sure, Bradley had said he was fine respecting them but you’d given him almost nothing aside from the commitment that you were working towards giving him everything, but since you had no idea how long that would take, you feel like you’re denying him things he deserved to have in a relationship. He doesn’t seem to be concerned for now, at least. You just hope you don’t let him down.

Bradley’s once again carrying your garment bag over his shoulder as you approach your shared room. He unlocks the door and you head in as he holds the door. Your shoulders relax until you reach the main area and your face falls as you take in the bed. Singular. The king bed takes up most of the room and you can’t breathe. Bradley’s voice comes from right behind you as he reassures you.

“I can go sleep in Javy’s room tonight.” His hand rubs comforting circles in your tense shoulder. You turn to face him, hands twisting nervously.

“No, it’s okay. As long as you’re okay with it and we follow the rules, I’m okay with it.” A part of you longs to make up for the night the two of you should have shared two days ago after the more physical activities were finished. You want to know what it’s like to spend the night in his arms, to fall asleep feeling totally and completely safe.

“If you want me, Honey, you have me.” Your heart flutters at his sweet words.

***

Since there isn’t much for you yet, you come back to the hotel before the boys do. You’re anxious to get into your pajamas, eager to enjoy an early night after the excitement of the past few days. Maybe you’ll order room service and have your dinner in bed. Your daydreams are burst by the sight of a familiar face at the hotel bar when you walk by on your way to the elevator. What’s Cyclone doing here? Managers don’t typically travel to games let alone attend home ones but Cyclone claims that it’s good for publicity if it looks like he’s involved. Still, he’s never come on a road trip before and you’re awkwardly standing and staring when he catches sight of you and calls you over.

You feel like you’re being dragged by an invisible leash as you sidle up to the stool that he’s currently occupying. He’s sipping a martini that you try not to think too hard about given that it’s a little past 2 pm.

“Cyclone, sir.” You acknowledge him and he waves you off.

“No Cyclone, just Beau is fine.” You blink, stunned by his sudden change in attitude towards you. “Have you had lunch yet?” You’re too stunned to answer so you just shake your head. “Perfect, neither have I, come join me.” He waves down the bartender and lets him know that he’d like to move to a table at the hotel restaurant and you follow him, still in a daze at the whiplash you’re suffering. You sit down in a booth across from him and numbly take the menu the waiter hands you.

“So… Beau,” you force yourself not to grimace when you use his first name. “What can I do for you?” He gives you a dazzling smile that you’ve never seen before and you’re even more uncomfortable.

“I wanted to sit down and get a chance to get to know you. Your mother was one of my dearest friends.” You want to ask why if that’s the case, he didn’t know she was dead.

“Sure, of course.” This is the opposite of how you expected to be spending your afternoon but you decide to accept your fate and carefully slide your professional persona into place. “So, how did you know my mother?” You’re more than willing to play dumb to your advantage. Cyclone has no idea that he used to basically be a bedtime fairytale for you growing up, and you’re content to keep it that way.

“We met in college at Yale.” You nod along as he continues. “We were quite close until we graduated. I feel like I owe it to her to take care of you. It’s what she would want.” While you don’t doubt that he’s right because your mom had always seemed to carry a torch for her mystery lover, you’re not so sure she’d approve if she could see him now.

“Oh, that’s very kind of you.” You parrot obediently, turning to the menu to pretend to be making your selection.

“Order whatever you want, my treat.” He says, still wearing that dazzling smile. Well, now you officially have to order something. At least eating will save you from having to talk. You have plenty of experience sitting quietly while self-important men talk at you so this should be a piece of cake. You wonder if it’s worth the risk to order the burger you’d been dreaming of all day instead of going with a more traditionally ladylike lunch option like a salad or soup. You decide on just going for the burger. You can’t afford to be hangry around this man.

Once the two of you have placed your orders you realize that Cyclone’s been staring at you for longer than you feel particularly comfortable with. You clear your throat politely. “Is there something on my face?” You ask, hesitantly, even though you’re pretty sure you know why he’s staring.

“It’s just, you look so much like her.” You stifle a grimace.

“Well, you know how genetics work…” you paste a warm smile on your face as you try to trifle a scream. “Does Dragon take more after your wife?” You know it’s a low blow but you’re hoping your charming smile makes the faux pas look ditzy rather than aggressive. Dragon looks nothing like her father. Anyone with eyes can tell. Her mannerisms, however, echo her father in more ways than you can count.

His brow furrows slightly and for a moment he’s the Cyclone that you’re used to seeing before he dismisses it with a shake of his head and a mutter of “Yes, yes she does.” He switches right back to this unfamiliarly eager man that you can’t help but wonder is the one that your mother once fell in love with.

Your mother had told you plenty about Beau Simpson without mentioning him by name. You knew he came from money, a long line of it, rooted in some financial corporation. He was a legacy admission to Yale since all the men and a few women in his family had gone there. In comparison, your mother had chosen Yale because they’d offered her the most generous figure skating scholarship. By all accounts, they should have never crossed paths in the first place but one day he was running late for hockey practice, shoving his way through a crowded hallway when he knocked her in the head with his hockey stick.

You do your best to imagine the man in front of you as the clumsy boy that your mother had told you about. He still had those green eyes but now they were cold and closed off rather than dancing with light and life that she’d always described as spring incarnate. Cyclone clears his throat as he asks.

“So, what year did you graduate from Yale?” You arch a surprised eyebrow at the question. He’d been the person to interview you, he of all people should know that you didn’t graduate from Yale let alone attend.

“I didn’t. I went to the University of Wisconsin.” You answer primly, doing your best to keep the awkwardness out of your voice. His eyebrows rise.

“Oh, I just assumed since your mother went to Yale…” He trails off.

“Yes, and my father went to Brown.” You add. “The Ivys weren’t really for me, though.”

“Your father went to Brown.” He repeats, brows furrowed.

“Yes, but Mom never really cared about that kind of stuff. They met at a coffee shop in Hartford.” You shrug. “They didn’t really care where I went to college, just that I was doing what I loved.”

“And what was that?” Your breath catches in your throat. You swallow, hard before replying.

“Figure skating.”

“Like your mom.” You nod. You don’t want to talk about it, not really. You never do, but you know you have to power through this lunch. You take a deep breath and pretend it’s Bradley sitting across from you instead. Talking about your mom always seems easier when it’s with him, even more so than with Mickey and everything’s easier with Mickey. You try not to think too hard about what that means as you field Cyclone’s questions about your life.

***

You’re already lounging in bed when Bradley gets back and you don’t miss the way his eyes soften with fondness at the sight of you under the covers. Your cheeks heat as he gives you a smile, coming over to sit on the edge of the bed after toeing off his shoes. “Hey Honey, how was your day? Bugs said you left early so I hope you got some well-earned rest.” You sigh, slumping against the pillows.

“Well I mean I did, but not as much as if I didn’t have lunch with Cyclone.” Bradley’s brows furrow and he frowns.

“Cyclone?” You nod.

“Apparently he flew in for this game because he and the Capitals’s head coach are fellow Yale alumni.” You roll your eyes as hard you can and it elicits a chuckle from Bradley. “Anyway I walked by him at the hotel bar when I got back from the arena and he invited me to have lunch with him.”

“What did he want?” Bradley asks warily.

“To talk about my mom. He claims to want a relationship with me, says it’s what my mom would have wanted.”

“Is it?” He asks, his hand finding your ankle over the sheets and rubbing rhythmic circles into the joint. You shrug.

“I think if my mom wanted a relationship with him, or for him to have one with me, she would have contacted him. He was an NHL player for God’s sake, she could have found him if she really wanted to.” Bradley nods silently, keeping up the soothing pattern on your covered ankle.

“Is that something you want?” He finally asks. “A relationship with him?” You frown slightly. You honestly hadn’t given it much thought. You turn Bradley’s words over in your mind as you once again fall into that comfortable silence that you’ve come to enjoy sharing with him.

“I don’t know. I know there’s a chance I get to see another piece of her, you know? A piece that no one else can tell me about. But I don’t know if I’m ready for that, and I don’t know what Cyclone would even want out of a relationship with me. I’m not about to dig out my mom’s old college clothes and play dress up for him, you know?” Bradley’s brows furrow and his grip on your ankle tightens, his fingers stopping their soothing motion as his jaw tightens and his expression hardens.

“If he even so much as SUGGESTS that,” Bradley growls and you suppress a shudder at the pure venom in his voice. You wave him off.

“I’ll kick his ass before you even get the chance.” You reassure him and he relaxes slightly. You give him a soft smile in response to his fierce protectiveness and you’re reminded of the way he’d gone for the defenseman that attacked Mickey the other night. This is another side of Bradley that you’re seeing and it makes you feel even more safe in his presence.

Your eyes fall on the Target bag in his hand and arch an eyebrow nodding in its direction. “What’s in the bag?” you ask and watch pink splotches climb up his neck as he rubs the back of his neck ruefully.

“A couple of the guys wanted to stop at Target to get some stuff so I went with and Mickey helped me pick some stuff out.” He passes the bag across the bed to you, the pink reaching his cheeks as you peer inside, eyebrows going straight up. “You said you didn’t bring anything except your work clothes so I thought you’d like some other options. Mickey picked everything. I figured he knew what you liked and your sizes.”

“Thanks,” you stammer, surprised by Bradley’s thoughtfulness. “How much do I owe you?” He shakes his head gently.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s my treat.” You open your mouth to protest but he gives you a firm look and you roll your eyes, turning back to the bag. Inside are a pair of jeans and a chunky sweater that you know you’ve been eyeing for a while now and have definitely mentioned to Mickey in the past. Under those are a couple of tasteful graphic tees that scream Mickey and make you giggle as well as a denim jacket that goes with all of them. There’s also a simple black peacoat at the bottom of the bag. That you know deep down has to be Bradley’s choice despite his earlier comments. As you pull it out a pair of simple black gloves also tumble out.

“Gloves seem a little excessive, don’t you think?” You ask as you turn them over in your hands.

“Hardly,” Bradley replies. “I won’t always be around to keep those pretty hands warm.” You feel your cheeks heat as he takes your hands in his, bringing them up to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to them. “You wanna go out tonight?” You shake your head, leaning back against the pillows and snuggling into the covers.

“Room service it is then.” He decides and gets up to grab the menu.

***

Later you’re curled up in bed, eyelids heavy as you wait for Bradley to get out of the shower. Your eyes fall on the remnants of your dinner strewn on the table and you smile at the memory of throwing french fries at Bradley while he took it all in good fun before smearing ketchup on your cheek in retaliation. The click of the bathroom door alerts you to his return and Bradley pads over to the other side of the bed. “You ready for bed, Honey?” He asks, and you nod sleepily. “You sure you don’t want me to sleep in Javy’s room? I already cleared it with him in case you changed your mind.” You shake your head and he chuckles softly. “Words, Honey.”

“Don’t go, Bradley, want you to stay with me.” Your voice is addled with sleep but you manage a groggy smile at him as his eyes eyes soften as he climbs in.

The bed is big enough that you could easily pretend that he’s not there but you’re not sure that’s what you want. You want to feel what it’s like to fall asleep in the comfort of his arms. But what if that’s not what he wants? What if it’s too much temptation for him? You don’t want to hurt him by making his life a living hell. Your thoughts are still racing for a few minutes after Bradley turns off the light and plunges the room into darkness. They get louder as you’re left alone in the blackness with them until Bradley breaks the silence that’s anything but comfortable for you right now. “Honey, get over here.” You turn in the dark to try and make him out as your eyes adjust. The rustle of the sheets helps you piece together that he’s holding his arms open for you and you scoot across the bed without a second thought, letting out a breath of relief as you curl against him and he chuckles in your ear at your eagerness.

“Goodnight, Bradley.” You murmur, sleep already eagerly leading you down into the comfort of his arms.

“Goodnight, Honey, sleep tight.” You drift off to sleep to the feeling of his lips pressing against your temple gently.

A/N: AAAAA THEY’RE SO STINKIN’ CUTE

#you catch more bees with honey // sdd #ycmbwh // sdd #san diego dogfighters #san diego dogfighters au #san diego dogfighters hockey au #tgm hockey au #top gun maverick hockey au #top gun maverick #TGM #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #Bradley rooster Bradshaw x you #rooster x reader #rooster x you #no use of y/n

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