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goldenseresinretriever · 12 days ago

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False Confidence: Chapter 14

Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

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

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

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: I’m BACK, baby! And I missed these too so much!! 😭

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

“Javy, where’s your fridge?” You frown at the space that should be the object of your search. It looks like a fridge. It’s where a fridge should be. And yet… there’s no way this is actually his fridge. You look back inside as the alarm system starts to beep, urging you to close the door. Reluctantly, you take out the egg carton sitting inside. You’re setting it on the counter when Javy appears in the kitchen. He’s carrying Roxie in his arms and she’s enthusiastically licking at his cheeks.

“What do you mean, sweetheart, it’s right there?” Javy nods toward the refrigerator behind you. Your brows furrow in confused irritation.

“I mean, I know it’s right there…” you bite your lip, trying to find a way to ask your question without coming off painfully blunt. “Javy, where’s the food in it?” Your voice dies off as the question escapes.

He blinks at you and you blink back, an awkward silence falling over the two of you. The pause is long and punctuated by the jingle of Roxie’s collar as she continues showering her dad with affection. “Technically, there is food in it-“

“Javy, sauces aren’t food.” You cross your arms, your teacher-voice starting to slip through the cracks.

“I have the eggs!” He argues and you flip open the carton.

“This is full which means you bought them just for this,” your brow furrows. He’s floundering and you sigh softly. “Javy, I’m not trying to criticize you, but I just, I worry. You’re a professional athlete, that means you have to eat a lot and you don’t have any food, and I’m your girlfriend and also your friend, and I worry.” Your frown softens as Javy’s eyes do.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Roadie girl, I’m eating plenty. I just tend to order out instead of cook. I’m not starving by any means.” Your brow tightens again even as he tries to reassure you.

“But that’s not necessarily healthy! You need to eat real food!” You exclaim and he gently crosses the kitchen to you as you slowly start to get wound up.

“Hey, hey calm down. I’m okay, Meep, I’ve been doing this for years and I’m still here.” Your frown deepens even more.

“But that just means you haven’t been taking care of yourself for years and your body has just adjusted to it! And knowing you, if you aren’t taking care of yourself, that means you probably aren’t letting people take care of you either!”

***

Javy can’t help the way the corners of his mouth are twitching upwards as you start to unravel in front of him. He knows you’re saying all this because you care. The more you say, the more he can’t help the way his heart swells. As the only boy in a family of women, Javy’s used to being fussed over but this feels different, warmer somehow. Family fusses out of responsibility, but this, this fussing is your choice and he lets the smile slip free as he comes around behind you, wrapping you in a hug, burying his face in your hair gently, letting himself soak in the warmth of your presence and sweet words.

He feels the subtle shift of your body in surprise before settling in his embrace as he does so. You’re visibly more comfortable with him than you used to be but old habits die hard, it would seem.

“Are you even listening to me, Javy?” He hears the pout in your voice, the sharpness in your question melting like your inhibitions and he rubs your arms even as they heat under his ministrations.

“You worry too much, Meep.” He teases right next to your ear, pride licking at his chest as your body responds. He doesn’t have to see your face to know you’re rolling your eyes at him. He loves it when you do that.

“And you don’t worry enough!” You may as well have stamped your foot, the petulance in your tone making Javy chuckle.

“Well it seemed like you had it covered for the both of us,” he points out, accenting his point with a kiss to the apple of your cheek before reluctantly letting you go. “So, where’s the box?” He crosses over to the tote bag you had brought with you, looking inside and frowning when he doesn’t see what he’s looking for.

“Box?” You come over to where he’s looking into the bag, peering around his broad shoulders. “What box?”

“The mix? For the brownies?” Javy looks back at you to see a look of affront on your face. He’s confused so he looks back into the bag hoping it’ll hold an answer.

***

You should have known when you saw his fridge but you can’t help feeling a bit offended as you take the tote bag from Javy’s hands, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach when his fingers brush yours. You wonder absently if that will ever fade before reaching into the bag, taking out each ingredient carefully, and placing them on the counter, hoping the silence will speak for itself but you just see his confusion growing and you sigh, placing your hands on the counter, gathering your patience. “There’s no mix, Javy. We’re going to make them from scratch.” His eyes widen in realization.

“Oh,” the single syllable is deafening in the otherwise silent kitchen.

“Please tell me you at least have mixing bowls somewhere here?” He gives you a chagrined half-smile and you heave a sigh. “Here,” you walk over to where you left your keys, handing them to him, “There’s a bag of supplies in my trunk, I’m going to get set up here and take stock, if you don’t mind grabbing them?” Javy nods and heads out of the apartment without question.

The moment you hear the door click shut, you pull out your phone, fingers flying. Nat picks up on the first ring. “Fine,” you grind out, “you were right.” She cackles on the other side of the line. “His fridge is EMPTY, Nat, EMPTY! It just looks like a condiment bar!”

“What did I tell you? A New Orleans upbringing was wasted on that man, I tell you.” You shake your head in disbelief, propping the phone on your shoulder as you start poking around in Javy’s cupboards. “He doesn’t even have mixing bowls, Nat!”

“I can’t believe you thought he’d have a stand mixer!” Nat wheezes through the phone. You scowl at the mostly empty cabinets, rolling your eyes as you find one that’s actually full, packed with various protein powders and pre-workout containers.

“If I had professional athlete money, it would be the first thing I bought!” You bemoan, You hear the click of the door, and your head whips towards the hallway. “I’ve gotta go, I’ll see you at Family Day.” Nat bids you goodbye and you manage to hang up before Javy returns to the kitchen, arms laden in reusable bags full of your baking supplies.

You unload bowls and utensils while Javy gets your mixer set up on the counter. “Okay, so what do you know about baking?” You ask tentatively, forcing yourself to keep from going straight into baking mode and into your more patient teaching mode instead.

“That it tastes delicious and you’re really good at it?” Javy gives you an embarrassed smile and you return with an unenthused look.

“When was the last time you baked something?” You pivot and he pauses as if sorting through his memories.

“I mean my mom and sisters bake all the time but the last time I baked something? I think Jake and I made a boxed cake in our first apartment back in college? Yeah, I think we did it for a buddy’s birthday? It turned out okay, Jake didn’t want to use a boxed mix but we didn’t have enough supplies to make it the long way.”

You bite your tongue from arguing against his calling scratch baking “the long way,” focusing instead on the task at hand. “Okay, then we’ll start slow. Pull up the recipe I sent you.” You wait while he pulls out his phone, coming over so you can read it. “First, we need to prep a few things.” You place a cutting board in front of Javy, unwrapping a bar of chocolate and handing it to him with a knife, moving to preheat the oven. “We’re going to cut the chocolate up before we melt it down. By cutting it, we’re just speeding up the melting process, so you don’t have to worry about making it pretty. Wash your hands and I’ll show you.” You demonstrate the kind of cuts you want and then hand Javy the knife. “This goes without saying but please be careful. I’m going to start boiling water.” He turns as you walk over to the sink to fill a pot.

“Wait, why are you boiling water?” His brows are furrowed in confusion.

“To melt the chocolate, we’re going to put that glass bowl over a pot of boiling water and melt the chocolate in that along with the coconut oil.” You start the stove and come back to where Javy still looks confused.

“Why not just put it in the microwave?”

“It’s too imprecise, you could burn the chocolate.” You explain and he nods, turning over the new information in his brain.

He starts chopping before he pipes up again, “There’s coconut oil in brownies?”

“Not always, but I wanted to make these dairy-free so it’s a good substitute. You could use butter instead.” He nods again, turning back to his work. When he’s done chopping, you lead him over to where you’ve set up the bowl above the now-simmering water. “See, the steam and heat from the boiling water is heating up the bowl. “Now add the chocolate to the bowl,” you measure in the coconut oil and hand Javy a spatula to stir the mixture. Slowly the softened oil and hard chocolate melt into a uniform liquid.

“Okay, now we need to move on to the eggs and sugar. I’m using coconut sugar because it’s a healthy alternative to the regular kind. You can sub out the eggs for a vegan alternative but I wanted to keep the protein content high so I’m keeping them in.” You watch Javy crack the eggs into the bowl, before adding the sugar. “Now we’re going to whip them with the mixer. You’ll know they're done when the mixture is pale and fluffy. It should look bigger too.” You bring your hand mixer over and plug it in, turning it on and demonstrating the proper holding technique.

“You don’t have one of those fancy ones that does it for you?” Javy asks, brows furrowing yet again as you pass him the mixer. “That’s what my mom always used.” You shake your head even as your cheeks heat in embarrassment.

“It’s a big investment and it always seemed like more of a luxury than a necessity. Hundreds of dollars versus this one that works just fine and barely cost me thirty. I’ve had it since I moved out for college.” You pause for a moment before you add, “Just be glad I have an electric one. When I was little, my grandma had one of the ones you have to crank by hand.” Javy looks horrified at the idea.

“But even with the electric one, the recipe said it should take five to seven minutes! Imagine if you had to crank it!”

“You should have seen her arms, she could put you hockey boys to shame,” you remark, and Javy smiles at that.

“I’m sure she could.” After a moment of quiet populated only by the steady buzz of the mixer, Javy speaks up. “Is she…”

“Oh! No! She’s just since upgraded to an electric one! My dad got it for her for her birthday when I was in high school. He claims it was from the goodness of his heart, but we all know it was because he was starting to feel guilty when he asked her to bake something as she was getting older.” You give him a rueful smile as you take over the mixing. He watches, impressed.

“You’ve got some pretty strong arms yourself, Meep, I was starting to get tired and you don’t miss a beat.”

You laugh nervously, “Practice makes perfect. We’ll make a baker of you, yet, Javy Machado.”

“My mom’s going to flip,” Javy says with a laugh and you smile back.

“Maybe we can bake her something the next time she comes to town,” you suggest and your heart does a flip as his face breaks into a boyish grin.

“I’d love that, Meep and I’m sure she would too. I can’t wait for you to meet her, she’s going to love you.” You feel heat flush your cheeks as the nerves in your stomach flutter back to life. Truth be told, you’re incredibly nervous about the Dallas trip. Sure, you’ve met Javy’s family over video call but it’ll be completely different seeing them in person. Even online, you can feel their infectious but intense energy and you’re worried that it’ll overwhelm you and ruin your first impression. Javy pulls you back as he asks whether the mixture in the bowl looks ready. As you’ve been lost in your thoughts, it’s finished mixing.

“Okay, now I’m going to keep mixing very slowly while you add the chocolate,” you explain as you shift so Javy can read around your hands to add the chocolate into the bowl. Once it’s fully incorporated, you turn off the mixer and point to the sifter on the counter while you grab the almond flour, cocoa powder, and salt. “Grab the sifter.” Javy looks confused as he picks it up and brings it over.

“Okay this I’ve never seen before,” he admits and you smile gently as you take it from him.

“It’s a sifter. We put our dry ingredients through it to get out the clumps. Here, let me show you.” You demonstrate with the flour before handing the sifter off to Javy to do the other two ingredients. “Now you’re going to fold these into the batter until they're mixed with no clumps. Remember, be gentle yet firm. You want to make sure the batter has air in it, that’s why we’re not using the mixer.” You watch proudly as Javy frowns in concentration as he awkwardly tries to recreate the folding motion you showed him. You take over a few more times to remind him what it needs to look like. Finally, it’s done and you hand Javy a bag of chocolate chips to add liberally. He probably adds more to both of your mouths than to the batter but the bag gets used up all the same. The brownies go into the oven and you move to start cleaning up. After ejecting the beaters from the mixer, you hand one to Javy and he grins at you.

“Now this I’m familiar with,” he says before licking generously at the batter-coated metal. You giggle, placing the other one into the mixing bowl. His reaction is much more satisfying than you’ll find the batter. You push them in his direction before you start collecting measuring spoons and other utensils, taking them to the sink. “You’re not going to have one?” You look over your shoulder to where Javy’s holding the other beater in your direction, finishing off the last of his. You shake your head as you start the water in the sink.

“I’m good, you can have mine.” You almost miss the way his face contorts in confusion as you turn and you feel a little guilty for denying him but he seemed so happy with his that you wanted him to enjoy himself a little longer. You don’t think about the silence that stretches as you focus on washing the dishes until the wet sensation hits your nose and you squawk in surprise. The chocolate aroma hits your nostrils before your eyes can focus on the brown glob now perched precariously on the tip of your nose. Your brows furrow in confusion but before you can voice it there’s a wetter sensation followed by a rough feeling and you screech, nose scrunching in surprise as Javy pulls away, rogue tongue licking his lips as he savors the chocolate he’d deposited and subsequently licked off your nose. “You licked me.” You sound more surprised than you’d hoped and Javy just grins, not an ounce of guilt in his eyes. “You. LICKED. Me.”

He shrugs. “I licked chocolate. I’ve been doing that for the last five minutes.”

Before you can stop yourself, your arms flick and Javy blinks in surprise, your previous shock transferred to his face. You can’t help the satisfied smirk that climbs up your lips as he reaches a hand up to wipe the water off his face. “You splashed me.” The grin is back, widening with each word. “Oh Meep, you just declared war.” He sticks his hands into the mixing bowl and your eyes widen in realization. His fingers come out coated in chocolatey goodness and your stomach drops. Your hand moves of its own accord, curling around the spray head. Javy lunges towards you, hands outstretched and before you realize what you’re doing, you’re whipping the spray head towards him in defense. The water takes a moment to spurt to life and you feel chocolate streak your cheeks as Javy swipes at you before the spray head explodes with water and Javy jerks back with a surprised laugh. You stumble backward yourself, surprised by the realization of your actions and trying to put some distance between yourself and the chocolate. Your foot slips on the now-wet floor, and you screech as you feel yourself start to fall. You let go of the spray head and the water cuts. No longer being held off, Javy manages to catch you with two strong arms around your middle, swinging you off your feet awkwardly with a laugh as he pulls you close. You don’t have time to worry about his chocolatey fingers on your shirt as the breath is knocked out of your lungs by the sudden movement and unexpected closeness to Javy. He catches himself on the kitchen island, leaning on it with your weight on his front. You turn awkwardly to face him and you’re caught off guard yet again by the tender fondness in his eyes despite the fact that he’s soaked and covered in chocolate.

Javy leans in to kiss a streak of drying chocolate on your cheek. “Hi,” you squeak, inwardly cringing at the breathlessness and awkwardness in your voice.

“Hi,” he rasps, bumping his nose against yours. “That was fun.” He pumps his eyebrows at your eyes dart to the side as your cheeks heat.

“Sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” He shakes his head, intent on dismissing your guilt.

“Nothing wrong with a good scrim. I knew you had some fire in you; keep this up and you’ll be on the ice with me in no time.” Your eyes widen in horror at the thought. “Don’t you worry, Meep, I won’t let anyone get any hits on you.” You can’t help rolling your eyes at him and he laughs in response, that deep rich sound that you’ve come to love. He tightens his arms around you and you feel yourself lean further into him.

“We should clean this up,” you remark, even as your heart aches in response to you ruining the moment.

“I guess we should,” Javy agrees, and you pull away carefully, minding the wet patches of floor. He keeps broad hands on your elbows until he’s sure you’re steady before straightening himself. You replace the spray head next to the sink as Javy comes over and starts to wash the dried chocolate off his hands. Meanwhile, you go to grab a towel, stooping to mop up the floor.

When Javy’s done with the sink, he gestures you over and you’d almost forgotten the chocolate decorating your cheeks until Javy’s damp hand reaches up to your cheek. A wet thumb goes to work, loosening the hardened substance and cleaning off your skin. Your fingers itch to push him away and tell him that you can do it yourself, old self-sufficient habits starting to rise up, but you force them down. You let yourself be taken care of for once. “Thank you,” his eyes flick to yours from where they were locked onto their task. Blood thunders in your ears as you force yourself to meet his gaze. He’s not searching for anything, just looking.

“You don’t have to thank me, beautiful. I’m doing it because I want to.”

“Thank you for wanting to,” the words come out small but you’re still surprised you managed to get them out. Your toes curl as you struggle to keep eye contact.

“Thank you for letting me,” Javy’s hand on your cheek startles you, but the contact distracts you from your fear and you lean into it instinctively. He leans his forehead against yours and his lashes flutter shut and your lungs relax, letting out a breath as your eyes flutter shut in turn.

***

You’re not sure how long the two of you stay that way, but eventually, the oven beeps and you’re forced to part. Javy offers to let you borrow a shirt so you can change out of your chocolate-stained one. When you come back from the bathroom where you change and somehow manage to stop the pounding of your heart, Javy has finished up the dishes and the brownies are cooling on the counter. He’s changed into dry clothes as well. “Oh, don’t put everything away yet,” you remark as you get back to the kitchen and Javy looks up from where he’s looking at something on his phone.

“Why? The brownies look okay to me,” he glances at the tray next to him.

“Oh they look great, but I know how much you guys eat, so you’re going to make another tray.” You come up next to him and bring over the mixing bowl, placing it next to him.

“That’s a good idea, actually, wait did you say ME?” You nod without missing a beat.

“You helped me with the first batch and you have the recipe. You’ve got everything you need to do this one by yourself,” The fear and horror on Javy’s face makes a smile creep across your lips. “Come on, Javy, you’ve got this. I’ll be here the whole time. If you have any questions, you can ask, but I’m not going to touch anything. That’s all you.” You place a hand on his arm, encouragingly. He looks at you then, and you're surprised to see nerves dancing in his eyes. Javy’s always been nothing but unshakable confidence and swagger. You’ve yet to see him doubt himself, even for a second. You slide your hand down to lace your fingers together, squeezing his hand in yours. “You’ve got this.” He nods, swallowing hard. “Remember, I’m not going anywhere, I’ll be with you the whole way through.” You lean over and kiss his cheek. “I believe in you,” he nods slowly like he’s trying to convince himself. “I promise I’ll stop you before you do anything too dangerous.” He chuckles then and you watch some of the nerves leave his body.

“If you insist, Meep. Game on.”

A/N: Aaaaaa I’m so glad I finally got this out! Special thanks to @fanficfandomlove for lighting the fire under my butt to get this done 🥰 How do we think Javy’s brownies turned out?

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

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goldenseresinretriever · 7 months ago

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Snitches Get Stitches: Chapter 2

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?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, violence, sports violence, medical stuff, blood probably, angst, fluff, (eventual) smut, forbidden romance, sexual harassment, suggestive language, medical inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: This is a repost of my completed series, Snitches Get Stitches. It was originally posted in October-November 2023, and was lost when my blog was deleted.

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

You lean against the counter in the exam room, giving Jake’s chart one last once-over while you wait for him to come back from the showers. There’s nothing in there detailing any recent injuries and your suspicion increases. You’re still weighing your options when the door opens and Jake saunters in, clad in a simple Dogfighters t-shirt and athletic shorts, his hair still wet from the shower. He heads over to the exam table and pops up onto it, leaning to rest his palms on his knees.

“So Bugs, let’s get to it.” You give him a confused look.

“Bugs?”

“Yup.” He fails to elaborate but his eyes tell you he’s waiting for you to catch on to some joke you’re unaware of.

“I don’t get it. Why’re you calling me Bugs?”

“What’s up, Doc?” He says with a grin in a poor imitation of Bugs Bunny which in turn makes a smile spread over your face, your worry temporarily forgotten. “You work for a hockey team now, Bugs, you need a nickname. So Bugs Bunny, or Bugs for short. Unless you’d rather I call you Bunny.” He waggles his eyebrows at you playfully. You feel your cheeks flush at his teasing. “So, what do you think, Bugs?”

“I think it’s a good thing you’re good at hockey.” You laugh nervously, as your mind comes back to the task at hand. You clasp your hands in front of you to keep them from shaking as you steady yourself for what you’re about to do. “Let’s get down to business shall we?” He nods, settling back on the table. “As I mentioned earlier, today we’re just going to be doing a standard physical, nothing special, but before we start, there’s something I want to talk to you about.” You watch him stiffen, his carefree, flirty demeanor now wary. It makes your heart ache. As a doctor, seeing your patients in pain has always been hard for you, but you trust your ability to alleviate it. To do that for Jake, though, he’d have to trust in you too. “During the introduction, I mentioned that the only way I can fully be of service to you as your physician is if we trust each other enough to be honest with each other.” You swallowed, crossing your arms across your chest, steeling yourself before you brought your eyes to look straight into his stormy ones. “So that being said I need to know, what’re we working with? A groin pull? An MCL pull or tear maybe?”

You had prepared for a lot of different reactions from Jake but the shock on his face wasn’t one of them. His mouth had fallen open and you couldn’t help the way your eyes caught on his slightly chapped pink lips.

“Jake?” You whisper gently like you’re trying not to spook a horse.

It breaks him out of his stupor. “What the fuck?” It sounds like it’s been punched out of his lungs. “How the fuck? How the fuck could you possibly?” His chest is starting to rise and fall rapidly and you push off the counter, his chart abandoned as you place your hands on both of his broad shoulders, crowding his space as you coach him gently.

“Jake, I need you to breathe for me, can you do that? In, and hold, and out.” You guide him through the breathing, his eyes on the floor on yours on the top of his head, watching water droplets slide along the strands until finally, his breathing evens out. You take your hands off his shoulders and drop to squat in front of him, catching his eyes where his head is still hung. “Talk to me, Jake, I can help. Let me help.” You’re not sure when you took his hand in yours as you realize you’re rubbing gentle circles in the skin. Nothing about that is professional but then again neither is accusing a multimillionaire athlete with a fantastic legal team of lying about a serious injury, so you’re 0 for 2.

“How, how did you know?” He whispers, and your heart breaks at the hesitation and fear in his voice. “Who told you? Did my old physician call you? Did my publicist?” His voice gets louder with each question, raising with his frustration. He runs the hand you’re not holding through his wet hair angrily, stray water droplets raining down over you.

You shake your head. “No, no Jake, no one told me, I just… I just knew.” He brings his eyes back to you, accusation shining hotly in them.

“How, Bugs? Explain how you ‘just knew’.”

“I…” you hesitate, embarrassment coloring your cheeks as you realize you’re going to have to explain yourself. You sit back on your heels to get comfortable, letting go of Jake’s hand to fiddle with your own. “So we had this game of sorts at my fellowship during the playoffs. Since if athletes get injured during the playoffs there’s a high chance it doesn’t get revealed until the season’s over, those of us who got together to watch the games made a game out of it. We’re sports doctors, right? So it’s our job to be able to diagnose athletes quickly and efficiently. So we would make notes of potential injuries each game and if we were right and they got announced after the season we’d ‘win’ and basically yeah we’d bet on how valid we thought each other’s diagnoses were.”

You sigh, remembering that night. “It was the Conference Finals, game 4 against the Ducks. You were fighting some defenseman from the Ducks who was getting too pushy with covering you, your legs got tangled and then you went down. Your legs stretched a weird way and then you went off the ice for your penalty and then you were benched for the next half of that period. I knew something was wrong. Everyone else thought your coach just wanted you to cool your head. I guessed either a groin pull or something with your MCL. Then the season ended and nothing came out about the injury. I just couldn’t shake it though, this feeling that I was right.” You shake your head. “Then, you show up here and you’re giving me these weird looks every time I mention the physical and then shuffling around when I mentioned injuries during my speech so I decided to take a chance. I know it’s extremely unprofessional to accuse you of hiding an injury but I meant it when I said it, I care about your health and I just want to help you, Jake, and I can, but only if you’re honest with me.” You let out a huff, waiting for Jake to respond, too nervous to raise your eyes from his sneakers to watch his reaction.

“Well I’ll be damned, Bugs.” You look up at that to see the curiosity and awe in his face. “That’s really something.”

“So,” you put on a small smile. “Are you gonna let me help you, Jake?”

His eyes dim at that. “Bugs, I can’t let you do that.” You can’t help the scowl that contorts your face.

“And why not, Jake? You’d rather throw the rest of your career, and maybe your life, away than ask me for help?” You’re trying to understand, you really are, but he’s just so stubborn and you can’t understand why. “We have time now, we have two months until the start of the season, and if you let me help you, you can play, you can even stay on the first line, but time is not our friend, Jake you need to trust me, sooner rather than later.”

“If I let you help, it goes in my chart, and if it goes in my chart, it goes by Maverick and Simpson. And if that happens, I get benched.”

“What part of, if I help you won’t get benched, was not in English, Seresin?” You’re done being the nice guy.

“You can’t guarantee that. My last physician said I’d have to spend half the next season riding the bench, that I’d be lucky to make the third line.” It occurs to you that maybe this is why he left Dallas.

“Maybe if you let me look at it, I could give you MY opinion?” Irritation creases your face.

“If you look at it, that means scans, that means evidence, I can’t have a trail of medical records leading the higher-ups to this, I could get fired for it.” He thinks he’s being reasonable, you can see it in his eyes, but he’s being anything but. It’s wearing down every one of your nerve endings and it’s not even noon on your first day, you’re going to snap.

“You put me out five hundred bucks!” You shout, seething and you don’t care if he sees anymore. His face shifts into confusion for a second as he processes what you’ve just yelled before he bursts out laughing at your attack out of left field. He throws his head back as he does it, and it’s a deep laugh, from the bottommost parts of his belly, but you can’t enjoy it with how furious you are.

“If it’s the money you’re looking for, Bugsy, I can write you a check right now.” He says, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. Only later do you wonder when the last time he laughed that hard was.

“Seresin, get the fuck out of my exam room.” Your voice is cold, monotone, exacting, and you’re doing everything you can to maintain your paper-thin composure. At your change in tone, his grin fades as he realizes you don’t find this as funny as he does.

“W-What?” He stammers nervously, confused by your request.

“I said, get the fuck out of my exam room, Seresin.” You stand up and his head follows you holding your eyes with his.

“But what about the physical?”

“I can’t examine a patient that doesn’t want to be examined, and I’m sure as hell not getting fired for lying on a physical report, because then I’ll get fired, and unlike you, Mr. Seresin, I can’t afford to just go somewhere else. So, I’m going to ask you one more time, get the fuck out of my exam room. We can reschedule your physical when you’re ready to be transparent with me. Thank you for your time.” You purse your lips into a straight line as you collect his chart and your laptop from the counter, opening the door, and holding it open for him. He doesn’t move from where he’s perched on the exam table so you heave a sigh and head out yourself, calling back, “I’m going to get my next patient Mr. Seresin, you better be gone when I get back,” before letting the door swing shut behind you as head off to the gym where the players are doing their individual workouts.

“Javy Machado, you’re up.” You call across the gym, as you make your way to the shirtless dark-skinned man at the leg press, you tap his sweaty bare shoulder to get his attention and he pulls out his headphones.

“Sorry, miss, what’s up?”

“You’re up, Machado.” You smile, trying to regain your professionalism after the number Jake did on you. He returns the smile but you can see the confusion in his eyes.

“Already, miss? You’re done with Jake?”

“Mr. Seresin had something come up and had to reschedule. I’m not at liberty to say anything else.” You give him a tight-lipped smile and his brow furrows in concern as he gets up, wiping his face with a towel before putting his t-shirt back on and following you back to the exam room. Thankfully, Jake had left and you take your place at the counter, placing your computer back down and replacing Jake’s file in the rack, removing Javy’s instead.

“Ma’am?” you look up to see Javy fidgeting with his hands where he’s sat on the exam table.

“What’s on your mind, Javy?” You lean against the counter.

“I know you said you’re not at liberty to say but I have to try, okay? Is Jake okay?” Your heart breaks at the pain and helplessness in his voice. He cares so much and suddenly you’re angry at Jake all over again for hurting his best friend this way, your mind drifting back to the conversation you had with Natasha earlier.

“Honestly, Javy? I don’t know.” You shake your head, a tired laugh escaping your lips. “He won’t talk to me, and honestly I was hoping to get some answers from you but it’s becoming increasingly obvious that you’re just as in the dark about what’s going on here.”

“So his physical?”

“I refused to do it until he’s ready to be honest with me. Since the team is still new we don’t have a designated mental health professional, so I’m responsible for all aspects of your health right now and I refuse to submit an incorrect or incomplete report.”

“And and if he doesn’t?”

You shrug, exhausted. “He can’t play without a physical.” You set your jaw. “I know it sounds ridiculous in the grand scheme of things but if I let a sick player on the ice, that would break every code I’m bound to, personal and professional.”

“No,” Javy shakes his head. “You’re right, that’s what he needs. I think it’s been a while since someone told him no, it’ll be good for him.” He gives you a rueful smile and you chuckle.

“You’re a good friend, Javy.”

“So is Jake,” he gives you an apologetic look, “at least he usually is.”

“I’m sure he is.” You say, giving him a sad smile. “I’m sure he is.”

***

The next morning at warmups, you stand beside Maverick as he gives the team a rundown of his plans for the day. You’ll be continuing the process of giving physicals today. You’d gotten through the first line yesterday with the exception of Jake and the rookie goalie, Bob, who you’d be starting with today since the goalie coach was visibly missing from the rink.

“And before we break, Bugs has an announcement for you guys.”

You clap your hands together as twenty pairs of eyes turn to you. “Great job with the physicals yesterday you guys, not only has it been a good chance to familiarize myself with you as patients, but also a great opportunity to get to know you as coworkers. I really appreciate how patient you’ve been with me. I hope that attitude can continue going forward into the season. That being said, I know there has been some grumbling about these physicals since they seem like a waste of time since you get them done every year, but I would like to remind you all that a current physical with me is a requirement to play for the team come October. And since I want these done as soon as possible, if you don’t have a valid physical by the end of next week, I’ll be forced to give my professional opinion to Mav and Beau that you aren’t fit to play for the team.” You could’ve heard a pin drop in the arena. You could feel Jake’s eyes burning holes in your head, but you refused to acknowledge them, refusing to even invite suggestions that he was the cause of the issue. You had patient confidentiality to uphold no matter what other games you had to play to achieve compliance. “Okay, boys that’s it, Bob you’re with me.” The goalie flashes you a thumbs-up before lumbering off to the locker room to shed his equipment. You go on ahead to prep for his physical, stopping by your office to grab your laptop and today’s stack of files.

You almost jump when you push the door to the exam room open to see a sweaty Jake Seresin leaning against the exam table still in his gear and skates, arms crossed over his chest, brows drawn together in a frown. His eyes follow you across the room and you head over to the counter and start getting set up for Bob. Finally, when it becomes clear that he’s not going to volunteer anything, you turn to face him, fighting the urge to cross your arms across your chest and immediately go on the defensive. He’s a patient. He needs your help. He deserves your grace. You repeat in your mind as you force your best professional smile. “Mr. Seresin, what can I do for you?”

He scowls at you, whether it’s for the title or your nonchalant tone, acting like you don’t know why he’s here when in reality you really don’t. You have your suspicions and your hopes, but he could very well be here to inquire how good you are juggling, for example. Not good.

“I told you to call me Jake.”

“Well I told you to be honest with me, so I guess we’re even.” You can’t help it, you turn into an immature child in front of him, your professionalism taking a dive out the nearest window. His glare deepens. “Now if you have something to say to me, get it out because Bob’s scheduled to be here any minute now.”

“He hit the showers.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He shifts on his feet. “Listen, we need to talk about your little stipulation.”

“It’s not my stipulation if it’s literally in your contract, now is it?”

“But-“

“No ‘buts,’ Jake, you need a physical to play and I’m not forging one for you. I’m telling you now that no matter what happens, I will give you my 110% to get you back to full health, whether you come to me now or when you’ve run out of options or stubbornness. I don’t care what your last physician told you, I’m telling you, I will do everything in my power to help you, but for this to work, you have to trust me.”

He shakes his head ruefully. “I don’t get it. Why do it like this? Why haven’t you just gone to Mav and told him what’s going on? He’s got a laundry list of things he could hold over my head to get me to comply to a true physical.”

You chuckle at that. “Three reasons, Jake. First, I’m a grown woman and a fully licensed physician, I can solve my own problems and I’m not the kind of girl who’s going to run to my boss every time a patient throws a tantrum. I learn to catch. Second, that would be a violation of your doctor-patient confidentiality since you didn’t consent to me sharing that information with Mav, for example by informing me during your physical and me, in turn, putting it in your chart at which point it becomes privy to Mav and the other higher-ups who have access to your chart. And third, something more important than a breach in doctor-patient confidentiality would be a breach of your trust. When you step into this room, give me the privilege of your time, and submit yourself to my opinions and care, you trust me to do everything within my power to help you and I trust you to give me everything I need to be able to do my job. If I break that trust, for example, by going over your head instead of settling this like adults, then I can’t expect you to hold up your end of the bargain and I can’t be of help to you. Does that make sense?” He’s quiet, turning your words over in his head you assume. Before he can say anything, the door opens and Bob walks in, fully showered, stopping the moment he sees Jake. “Sorry, am I interrupting something?” He asks nervously, eyes shifting from Jake still in full gear to you. You give him a small smile in return.

“Could you just step outside and give us a second, Bob? I’ll just be a minute.” He nods and heads back out, the door swinging shut behind him. Jake is still silent, so you reach into the pocket of your coat and pull out a Ziploc bag, before crossing the room over to Jake. “Take your time and think about what I just said. At the end of the day, we can do this the easy way or the hard way, and while I have a preference, I’ll do what I have to do. In the meantime,” you extend your hand to him, the Ziploc dangling from your hand revealing the dog treats inside. “Tell Pudding I said hi.” Jake’s eyebrows shoot straight up as he looks at you in confusion.

“How did you-?”

You shrug. “I research all my patients, it helps me find possible points of relatability with them and start building a relationship. Plus Jake, you’re a celebrity and that adorable dog is in literally every single one of your Instagram posts. I may be your physician, but I’m not Amish.” You say with a smirk, passing him the bag and patting him on the shoulder. He takes this as his cue to leave and straightens, heading for the door. You can’t help the way your eyes fall to his right leg, trying your best to see through his facade but you have to hand it to him, he’s doing a damn good job hiding the pain.

“Thanks, Bugs.” He says in farewell and you smile, giving him a nod before he disappears and Bob comes in. He and Jake exchange a look and nod as they pass each other.

When the door clicks shut, Bob ambles over to the exam table, seating himself on the edge before facing you, a grim expression on his face. “Everything okay, Bob?” You ask. You’ve only ever seen the rookie goalie smiling.

“How’s his leg?” Bob hesitates before he blurts out the question. Your eyebrows shoot straight up before you can stop them.

“Bob, I’m not at liberty to discuss my other patients.”

“Yeah, I know that but-“

“How do you know about his leg?” You’re dying to know. You know you just talked a big game about trust with Jake but your desire to know more about his condition is winning against your conscience right now. you’re only human, and every part of you wants to know how this rookie goalie who met Jake less than twenty-four hours ago as far you know already knows about his leg when his best friend doesn’t.

Bob rubs the back of his neck. “I have a bachelor’s in kinesiology and I’m a goalie.” He shrugs. “I spend a good portion of my time standing and watching, so I notice things. He hasn’t said anything to me, and he does a good job hiding it, but on the ice, I’d say he’s too preoccupied with the game to keep up appearances as well. But I can tell he shouldn’t be playing on it.” He shakes his head. “There’s no way Mav knows or else he wouldn’t be on the ice, but it’s only a matter of time before he finds out.” You nod along. It turns out Bob Floyd is full of surprises.

You hesitate before you respond. “I know as much as you do, Bob. I noticed it too, but Jake’s straight up refusing my help and I don’t know why. You’re right, Mav has no idea and I can’t break confidentiality to tell him without losing what little if any trust Jake has in me.”

Bob nods, “I had a feeling you knew after your announcement this morning. Did he really refuse the physical?”

“Not exactly, more like he refused an honest one, and I refused to give a dishonest one.”

“You’re really good at your job, Bugs, you know that right?” The unexpected gentle words from the goalie have tears threatening to blur your vision, you shake your head trying to hold them back, lowering your head to focus on a point on the floor.

“If I was good at my job, I wouldn’t be in this position.”

You look up when you feel a soft hand on your shoulder. “Bugs, it’s because you’re good at your job that you’re in this position. Unfortunately, there are plenty of doctors that would have just done what Jake wants, either because they don’t care or they’re too worried about getting sued by a multimillionaire athlete.” A watery chuckle forces its way past your lips. “You’re doing the right thing, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.” It takes everything not to hurl yourself into his arms and weep because this is what you’ve needed for months. One person telling you that you’re doing the right thing, that you’re good at your job, that what you’re doing matters, and here is someone who’s supposed to be your patient, healing a part of you.

“Thanks, Bob, I think I really needed to hear that.” You say, trying your best not to notice how your voice wobbles.

“Don’t mention it, Bugs, just trying to help.” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and squeezes in a half-hug like he can tell you need it, and you don’t even notice that it doesn’t make you feel queasy.

“Hey, Bob? If the hockey thing doesn’t work out? I think you’d make one hell of a doctor.” He laughs and you giggle as you straighten and grab his chart. “Let’s get started shall we?”

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

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goldenseresinretriever · 7 months ago

Text

One Man’s Trash

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe but can be read as a stand-alone

CW: Angst, fluff, suggestive language, medical inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 3.4k

Series Masterlist

“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.

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

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doodledraw · 1 month ago

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It wasn’t something they used to do off the ice. It was a routine so embedded into their cellys that for a long time it was odd to bring this particular routine off the ice. Especially as…charged as it was. And then, as they started to get more comfortable with their relationship, in the company of their teammates and close friends, and this particular routine started to creep out. It was grounding, and it was something that was specifically them, something that differentiated their relationship from a friendship but in a not obvious way. And it never failed to make Pete’s heart stutter, because he’d started to recognize the particular look that Tom got when he was coming over to press their foreheads together, and he started to look forward to it, to press his hand into his wingman’s shoulder or nape of his neck in return. He wouldn’t be mad if it transferred into the privacy of their shared spaces, either.

This is something I drew based on the prompt for day 19 of the Fightertown discord server’s advent calendar! The lovely @oathkeeperoxas mentioned that the prompt hadn’t been taken and….well…in my icemav hockey au brain I just couldn’t help but make some associations and draw this!

it’s actually the visual opposite of another piece that I will be posting in a couple days so there’s that to look forward to.

Serie, I hope you like this doodle and drabble combo <3 happy holidays!!

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goldenseresinretriever · 5 months ago

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False Confidence: Chapter 13

Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: I’m back!!! Thank you to everyone who waited so patiently for this update! It’s been a long time coming and I’m glad to be settled to the point where I can start writing again!

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

Not many things in your life have been as hard as having to leave Seattle the morning after Valentine’s Day. You and Javy had stayed up all night, walking around the Seattle center after the Space Needle, and eventually heading back to his hotel room. Despite your initial nerves, the two of you had sat on his couch and simply talked until Josie knocked on the door to let you know it was time to go. You’d felt the physical heartache as you forced yourself to walk through his door and you know it must have been showing on your face because Javy simply grabbed his jacket and tagged along in the Uber to the airport, keeping an arm around you without another word. Despite that extra half hour together you still held him tight as the Uber lingered for Reuben and Javy at the deserted drop-off area.

While you’re extremely thankful to Josie for the Valentine’s Day surprise, it’s made the rest of your week unbearable, and you could barely do anything but watch the clock, waiting for Friday. Things have gotten even harder now that you know that Javy’s back in town. He’s just on the other side of town and you can barely hold yourself back. You still have a day of work and Javy’s probably exhausted from the road trip. You tell yourself that he’s at home, asleep, and you shouldn’t bother him, that you shouldn’t be so desperate, and yet you’re aching to text him and ask if he wants to grab dinner because you’re not sure you can wait until your plans tomorrow to see him.

You’ve resorted to turning your phone off and banishing it to the bottom of your deepest desk drawer and throwing yourself into your teaching to try and keep your mind off him. It was working, for the most part at least, but now that your students have been dropped off in the cafeteria for lunch and you’re faced with your empty classroom, your thoughts run wild in the space. Josie’s not even here to keep you company. She took the kids off-campus for lunch to meet up with Reuben. You have no idea how Josie’s done this for ten years, and you’re even more impressed with how adaptable the Fitch kids are. You’ve always known it must be hard, not having their dad around so much, but now that you’re right there alongside them in the trenches, you feel their pain acutely.

You drum your fingers on your desk as you debate releasing your phone from its prison if only just to distract yourself from the silence in the room contrasting with the loudness of your mind. Your fingers itch for the distraction, and you’re so in your own head that you almost miss the knock on your door. Head whipping up from where you were scrutinizing the wood grain of your desk, your heart leaps into your throat as you meet the pair of dark brown eyes peering through the window into your classroom. Your body moves before your brain, tripping over your own feet and your chair as you scramble towards the door as it swings open. Your legs give up their struggle with the chair and you go tumbling into Javy’s arms as he runs over to catch you and you let out a screech of surprise.

“Hi,” you breathe out on an exhale as you stare up at him where you’re crumpled awkwardly as he holds you up.

“Hi,” he says fondly as he smiles down at you and you bask in the warmth of his expression as he helps you find your footing.

“What are you doing here?” You can’t keep the wonder out of your voice as you’re tempted to reach out and touch his face to make sure he’s really here. He chuckles as he leans down and bumps your foreheads together.

“I missed you,” he says like it’s nothing but it sends your heart racing and you swear he can feel it pounding through your skin.

“I missed you too,” you feel your cheeks heat at the admission, at speaking the words that have been echoing in your head all week and you’re heart stops as his face brightens into a boyish smile at your words. You can’t stop yourself from kissing the smile off his face and he leans into your touch, reciprocating in kind. Kissing Javy feels like making up for lost time, it fills you up in a way that feels like bottling up sunshine, reenergizing you like you run on the solar energy that comes from simply being in his presence.

When you break apart, you can’t tear yourself far, hovering close to him and he seems to feel the same way until he pauses like something’s just occurred to him and he turns behind him and you follow him with your eyes as he scoops up a brown paper bag that’s fallen onto the floor and comes back over to you. “I brought lunch,” he explains and you’re glowing all over again as he leads you over to your desk and hands you the sandwiches he got from a place near his apartment. The food tastes spectacular but you’re pretty sure that has more to do with the company than the food itself.

Javy asks about your week and you ask him about his. You’ve had at least some idea of what he's been up to since you spent Thursday evening at the Fitch’s to watch the Colorado game together. He leans into you conspiratorially when you ask how Denver was and you try to ignore the way the proximity makes your heart skip. “I think Bradley almost proposed,” he whispers and your eyes widen in surprise. You don’t know Bradley as well as you know Zam, now that you’ve been welcomed into a group chat with the other girls since your art show, but you know from Zam that she and Bradley are particularly close.

“Didn’t they just get together a few months ago?!” You squawk indignantly and Javy laughs as he nods.

“They even broke up for a bit in December, but that’s Bradley.” Javy shrugs.

“Wait how do you know? Did he tell you?” You ask and Javy barks out a laugh.

“Bradley’s a locked vault, Meep, and only Zam has that key. But according to her, next time they go out for pizza in Denver, the team has to come because a certain someone has no self-control.” He shrugs nonchalantly but you can see conspiratorial mirth dancing in his eyes and you can’t help the giggle that bubbles out of you. The two of you sink into a comfortable silence as you eat, content just to be in each other’s presence after the time apart before Javy breaks it.

“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask,” you arch an eyebrow silently as you chew, “do you think you’d be able to come to our away game in Dallas next month? It’s on a Saturday so you’d be back in time for school on Monday, and I’d take care of the tickets, but it could be fun.”

“I’d have to look at the exact date, but I should be free, yeah.” You say, smiling shyly at the fact that he’s inviting you to an away game. Somehow it feels different than going to a home game. “Of course, I’d love to come,” your heart thuds at the ease that those four letters fall off your tongue. The relief on his face is apparent and you’re confused by how it contrasts the excitement dancing in his eyes. Your head cocks in suspicion but where you’d normally bury the feeling and wallow as your anxiety sows the seeds of distrust, you feel the urge to confront Javy. Maybe it’s because he’s always been painfully honest with you. No matter how well he seems to think he is at hiding his secrets and emotions, he wears his heart on his sleeve. Maybe you can learn to do the same. “There’s more, what aren’t you telling me?” His eyes widen in surprise and you feel your heart thunder in your ears at his confirmation that he’s hiding something. It makes your stomach turn sour even as your brain screams for you to hear him out before you pull away, retreating into the hermit-crab shell in your mind.

“I…” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s not that I’m hiding it, I just…” he shakes his head. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you, especially when you’re still at work, and I didn’t want you thinking that I was making assumptions or moving things too fast.” He’s still walking around the truth, treading carefully as he tries to slow you down and grab your metaphorical hand before you can run for the hills.

“And?” You hate how small your voice sounds. You’re supposed to be getting better. Javy’s brought you out of your shelf over the past month along with all your new friends, but it seems old habits die hard. You see something you can’t read pass through his eyes at the tone of your voice.

“My mom wants to meet you,” he says with a resigned sigh, and your brow furrows in confusion. You’d expected a lot of things, but not this. “Well my sisters too, but my mom specifically. I told her about you, about us,” you watch his hand twitch like he’s holding back from reaching for yours. “And she said she wants to meet you. The whole family usually comes up to Dallas for our away games there and she asked me to bring you.” He pauses before adding, “If you want to obviously, she didn’t ask me to kidnap you or anything.” The last addition makes a small laugh bubble up in your throat and you let it slip out to watch Javy’s shoulders relax at the sound.

You nod after a pause. “Sure, Javy, I’d love to meet your family,” your heart squeezes gently as you watch the nerves holding Javy stiff release him from their grip and you wonder if that’s what you always look like to him. “Thanks for telling me,” you murmur, a mirror of what you tell your students when you successfully get them to open up. He nods, but you can tell something’s still bothering him so you reach over and take his hand in yours, rubbing reassuring circles on the back of his hand.

“I didn’t mean to lie to you, I mean it.” You give him a gentle smile but he’s not looking at you, instead, his eyes are focused on your joined hands. You reach your other hand to guide his chin up to look at you, trying not to get distracted by the feel of his smooth, warm skin under your fingertips.

“It’s okay, Javy. I mean it. I didn’t like you trying to keep it from me, but I understand why you did, and you apologized and I accept that apology. You’re okay. We’re okay.” You reassure him and you watch his deep brown eyes search yours before the uneasiness slowly creeps out of them. His fingers close around yours in his lap and he turns his head to brush his lips against your fingers still on his chin.

“Thank you,” His voice is soft like he’s still a little unsure, but then he shakes his head like he’s fighting to keep words inside his mouth. “Are we still on for tomorrow, Meep?” You can’t stop the way your face blossoms into a smile at the mention of tomorrow and you nod enthusiastically.

“Are you going to tell me what you have planned?” You ask, trying to hide how desperate you’re becoming. Javy’s promised that he has top-secret plans for your belated Valentine’s Day plans but he’s been annoyingly vague about them since he asked you to save the day for him.

“And ruin the surprise?” He raises a cocky eyebrow that makes you scowl. He brushes another kiss to your fingers. “Not a chance.” You pout at him and he looks like he’s fighting a grin. “So impatient,” he mocks and you roll your eyes, removing your hand from his chin with a scoff that lacks any real strength. Your attention is caught by the beginnings of movement outside the classroom and your heart aches subtly at the realization that he’ll have to leave in a moment and you’ll have to return to your work like he didn’t just blow through the door and lift your mood exponentially. Once again you feel the urge to ask him if he has dinner plans but your anxiety holds you back from possibly overstepping. He’s already taken time out of his precious day off to come and bring you lunch, you don’t want it to feel like you’re smothering him. Javy’s eyes dart to the window in your door, clocking the motion outside as well and you’re convinced that you see his shoulders slump slightly, but it’s likely your own delusion. “Guess I should get out of your hair,” he says, before coming back to look at you. Normally, you’d feel uncomfortable, being the subject of a person’s undivided attention but you don’t with Javy. His eyes rove over you like he’s recommitting your features to memory and you feel your cheeks heat as you take advantage of his distractedness to do the same. You can see the exhaustion from the past week lingering under his eyes and your heart aches slightly at the idea of how exhausted he must be as guilt twists your stomach. He should be home, asleep, or at the very least getting some rest.

“Get some rest, Javy,” you implore softly and he smiles gently in response.

“Don’t you worry about me, Meep, you just have a good day.” Your brows pinch together indignantly.

“I mean it, Javy.” Your voice is sharper, your teacher voice slipping through.

Javy chuckles. “Yes, Ms. Roadie,” he sing-songs, imitating your students and you roll your eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” Your brow relaxes and you nod.

“I’ll be there,” you assure him before adding, “That is as long as you tell me where we’re going.” You give him a pointed look.

He gives you a mysterious smile, “All good things to those who wait, Meep.” You’re about to protest again but the sounds outside your classroom rise in volume and you know your time together is almost up. Anxiety at the idea of Javy leaving knaws at your stomach and before you can stop yourself, you’ve reached out, arms wrapping around Javy in a tight hug. His body starts with surprise under you but he reciprocates before you can draw away and second-guess your decision. “I’m tired of waiting,” you know you sound petulant as you grumble the words into his chest, but his chuckle in your ear reassures you that he knows your words go deeper than your plans tomorrow and he feels the same.

“I’m tired of waiting, too, Meep.” He reassures you and you heave out a sigh, relishing the feeling of being in his arms for a moment longer.

***

Your knee bounces particularly hard and slams into the steering wheel as you drum your fingers on it, waiting for the light to turn green. You’ve spent the last week brainstorming ideas of what Javy’s grand plans for today would entail but instead, he surprised you by texting you last night to meet him at the arena, which seems odd since he has the day off, but you didn’t question it, knowing he probably has something in mind. He told you to dress warm but the anxiety gnawing at your gut has your brain convinced that the sleeves of your sweater are itchy. You scratch your arm for what seems like the hundredth time as you gaze at Hard Deck Arena looming ahead of you as the light finally turns green.

As expected, the private parking garage is almost empty but you spot Javy’s Land Rover and you park next to it. A quick peer inside the neighboring car confirms that Javy’s not there. You’ve been to the arena a few times now but you still can’t shake the feeling that you’re intruding as you step out of the car, wiping your sweaty palms off on your jeans before you make your way to the door and swiping the guest pass Zam hooked you up with a few weeks back.

The hallways are eerily quiet with the day off and the normally raucous atmosphere of the players and staff being absent. You pause, halfway down a dimly lit hallway, fishing your phone out of your pocket before you call Javy. You don’t hear a phone ring in your vicinity and you can’t help but feel a sense of foreboding. Did he stand you up? Even worse, are the lights about to come on and reveal a hidden camera? Is this all a prank? A familiar sense of unease twists your stomach and your heartbeat is so loud in your ears that you miss the click of the line picking up.

“Meep, are you here?” Javy’s voice in your ear makes you jump and you spin around like you’re expecting him to appear behind you.

“Javy?” You question the shadows around you. He chuckles in your ear.

“Hold on, Meep, I’m coming to get you. Hang tight.” His voice stops but the line doesn’t cut, a quiet reminder that you’re not alone except for the sounds of his muffled footsteps on the other side of the line as you do your best to ignore the dimly lit hallway around you as you await his arrival.

Contrary to his explicit instructions to you, Javy’s wearing a fitted t-shirt, arms bare and glowing under the dim LEDs as he jogs down the hallway towards you, grinning boyishly. He takes you by surprise when he doesn’t stop, barreling into you and sweeping you into his arms as you let out a squeal of surprise, arms instinctively reaching for his neck to hold on tight as your feet leave the ground. “Hi,” his voice is breathless with giddiness as he greets you, dark eyes boring into your own, mouth spread in a wide grin as he holds your body against his, the heat radiating off him a comfortable aura that you’re shamelessly drawn to.

“Hi,” you breathe back as the air comes back into your lungs and you gaze at him, lips slightly parted in surprise. Your mind goes back to yesterday and you nervously let the words on your tongue escape, heart fluttering at the vulnerable honestly. “I missed you.” His face is like the sun as he beams at you, surely a mirror of yours yesterday when he let the same admission slip. He rubs his nose against yours affectionately, the warmth rolling off his skin in waves meeting the shy heat of yours.

“I missed you too, Meep.” Your body relaxes instantly, reassured the moment he reciprocates. He puts you down then, but even once your feet are safe on the ground again, he keeps you caged in his arms, pressed tightly against him. He doesn’t seem keen on inviting space between your bodies and you’re hard-pressed to argue.

“So,” your curiosity bubbles to the surface from where it’s been percolating all week. “What are we doing here?” You ask, and you watch boyish mirth dance in Javy’s eyes as his lips quirk into a ghost of a smirk.

“So impatient,” he teases, leaning down to peck your cheek as your skin tightens beneath his lips as you scowl at him, no anger behind the twist of your lips. He chuckles as he pecks your pouted lips, effectively sending your brain into a tizzy. It’s still getting used to all this casual attention after years spent lacking it. “Alright then, my little roadrunner, let’s go,” your body instantly bemoans the loss of contact he pulls away but he makes up for it, sliding his hand unto yours and lacing your fingers together like he too can’t bear to not be touching.

He leads you down the dimly lit hallway with a familiarity you envy. Your feet almost stumble as you reach a slight incline and then you catch sight of light at the top. When you emerge into the arena, the contrast of the blindingly bright LEDs compared to the dimness your eyes have adjusted to makes you blink rapidly, struggling to adjust quickly to get your bearings. The cooler air confirms your suspicion until your eyes adjust to the blinding sight of the lights bouncing off the white of the ice rink. Javy waits patiently next to you as your eyes adjust and your frown of discomfort shifts into one of confusion. He clocks the difference and leads you through a clear door into the bench area. You’ve seen it through the glass before but you’ve never been in here. It seems laughably small considering that it’s meant to house several dozen men in bulky gear. You make your way to the boards that you’ve watched the boys swing over effortlessly, eyes widening as you see where it falls in comparison to your body, realizing exactly how much upper body strength it must take. You’re not sure you could do it, let alone piled under the extra pounds of hockey gear. You shake your head in disbelief before turning to where Javy’s watching you, seated on the bench.

“This is amazing,” he grins at your words.

“Just wait until we get out there, Meep.” He says, grin widening as your stomach drops and the puzzle pieces start falling into place.

“Out. There?” You squeak even as your brain has already descended into chaos as you glance from Javy’s smiling face to the white ice stretching out ahead of you. Anxiety rises up and claws up your throat as you realize exactly what Javy has planned. “Oh,” the word is a soft exhale and it must betray your fear because Javy reaches for your hands, pulling you closer and turning you to face him. “I can’t skate.” The words flood past your lips, splattering into the floor between you, laced with nerves and fear and you watch Javy’s eyes soften. He rubs circles into the flesh of your hands where they’ve started to tremble in his hold.

“I know, Meep,” he says and it doesn’t reassure you. “Nat told me, so I figured maybe I could teach you.” Your eyes widen in surprise as you slowly put things together. You look away from his gentle gaze back to the rink, the bright expanse daunting as it glows back at you. You swallow, fear sticking in your throat. Javy lets go of one of your hands, reaching to turn your chin back towards him, cupping your cheek, and sweeping his thumb across your trembling skin. “It’s okay,” he soothes gently. “I won’t let you fall.” The words are like hot water, thawing the ice of the nerves encasing your heart. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You believe him.

His smile turns rueful as he squeezes the hand still holding yours. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, though.” Your heart squeezes painfully. “We can get out of here, forget it ever happened. We’ll go get some dinner and then we can eat at my place.” He keeps up the gentle strokes of fingers against your skin. Your nerves are still present, deep in your stomach, licking painfully at your gut but your heart glows at Javy’s words. “Don't worry about it, either. This day is for you. If you’re not comfortable, it’s not worth it.” The aching of your heart is overwhelming, drowning out the twisting of your stomach and you shake your head.

“No, I want to.” Your voice doesn’t sound convincing so you clear your throat, squeezing his hand in yours. “I’ll be okay. I want to try at least.” He smiles, soft, as he scans your face, looking for any signs that your words aren’t genuine. When he’s convinced you aren’t doing this for him, he tugs your hand, gently, standing and switching places, carefully guiding you to sit on the bench as he stands in front of you.

“Sit tight,” he says and you nod as he steps over the bench to fuss with something behind you. While you wait, you nervously bring your gaze back to the ice rink. It looks cold and unforgiving. A thought pops into your mind as you wait for Javy.

“Javy, I don’t have skates,” the words die on your lips as he steps back in front of you, and your eyes fall on the box he’s holding in his hands. It’s clumsily wrapped in pink patterned paper with a bow awkwardly perched on top and he hands you it, an embarrassed smile on his face.

“Sorry, it’s not the neatest job. I probably should have just gone with a bag, but I’d already committed to the paper, and I figured since it was just a box it couldn’t be that hard.” Your eyes soften as he blubbers in front of you and you take his hand in yours, squeezing gently.

“I love it.” You reassure him and you watch the nerves seep out of his body, shoulders slumping in relief. You let go of his hand so you can unwrap the box on your lap, being careful not to tear the paper too much. You know you’re going to want to keep it. Maybe you’ll try your hand at a mixed-media piece and you can find a way to incorporate it. Adding some of his work into yours. The box inside is nondescript and you open it, breath catching in surprise as you unfold the tissue paper inside to reveal its contents.

The blades of the skates sparkle under the bright lights and you reach a curious finger out to run along the surface. The skates are simple but beautiful. As you reach to pull one out to examine it better, the paper falls away and your heart clenches as a simple detail catches your eye. Along the ankle portion of the skate is a custom patch depicting the Looney Tunes Roadrunner. A surprised laugh bubbles up your throat as you run a revenant finger along the patch. When you lift the skate, you see a matching patch of Wile E. Coyote on the other skate. Your lips quirk into a smile as you look up at Javy where he’s watching you.

“They’re perfect,” you assure him and his smile widens. “I love them, thank you Javy,” you reach for him awkwardly, trying not to drop the box on your lap and he closes the gap so you can give him a hug. When he pulls away, he drops to one knee in front of you, easing the skate box off your lap and placing it on the floor by your feet he holds out a hand, and you flush as you offer him your leg, feeling silly as you watch him carefully remove your shoe and guides the skate onto your socked foot, lacing up the skate, glancing up to make sure he hasn’t pulled it too tight.

When he finishes, he takes a seat next to you, lacing his skates up with a practiced speed. Then he stands, and you gawk, looking down to see how he’s standing balanced on the blades, your nerves quickly resurfacing at the idea of having to do the same. He clocks your expression and gives you a gentle smile as he steps over to you, holding out his hands. “I told you, Meep. I won’t let you fall.” You swallow, hard, before placing your trembling fingers in his. Javy’s brow furrows and he bends down, rummaging through the box at your feet, before he produces a pair of gloves and guides them into your shaking hands. Then he laces your fingers together again. “Ready?” You nod and he squeezes your linked hands and pulls, gently helping you ease off the bench. You’re surprised when balancing isn’t as hard as you expected.

Javy carefully leads you across the rubber flooring to the small door in the boards, slipping through and holding it open with his hip and you stare at the ice. “Whenever you’re ready, take your time,” Javy says comfortingly, waiting patiently for you. You swallow before raising a trembling leg and placing your skate on the ice. You feel the blade slide through the ice and gasp. Javy’s hand tightens on yours and you look up from the ice to meet his eyes. “I’ve got you,” he reassures you and you squeeze his other hand and carefully step your other foot onto the ice. Your footing is much less sure now, and your legs tremble like a baby deer as your wide eyes go from the ice to Javy’s. “There you go, look at you, Meep. You’re doing it.” His pride is a little premature, you know that, but your chest still swells under his praise. “You ready to move?” You swallow, throat feeling dry, but you manage to nod anyway. He carefully pushes off, still holding tightly to your hand and he skates backward, effortlessly, slowly pulling you after him.

“Javy!” The surprise of how easily he moves and the strange feeling of gliding behind him forces the cry out of your mouth. Your weight feels unbalanced and your feet not having a proper grip on the ground is disorienting.

Javy slows to a stop, pulling you in so you’re close to him. Your hands grip his forearms tightly. “Easy, Meep, I’ve got you. Okay so to balance you’re going to want to bring your center of gravity lower, kind of reach for your knees. I’m going to let you go and-”

“NO!” You shout, fear gripping your heart at the idea of having to let go of Javy.

“Hey, hey,” Javy placates gently as your wild eyes find his. He’s calm and you force yourself to focus on him, to even your breathing. “Even if I let go, I’m right here, okay? I won’t let you fall. The moment you need me, I’ll be right here.” You swallow, hard. You’re scared which you know is ridiculous. The worst thing that can happen to you is that you fall and Javy’s reassured you that he’ll catch you if you do. You need to trust him. You do trust him. Despite the racing of your heart, you nod weakly.

“Okay,” you hate how small your voice sounds. “Okay, I can try.” Javy beams down at you.

“That’s my girl,” he praises and you feel your entire body go hot. His words echo in your ears with your heartbeat and you feel stronger. “Okay, I’m going to let go, okay? Just reach for your knees, you won’t fall.” Your heart thunders as Javy’s fingers slip from yours and you feel yourself start to wobble. “Reach for your knees,” Javy’s voice breaks through your panic and you feel your center of gravity shift as you alter your stance, the wobbling evening out. Your eyes widen in surprise.

“I did it!” You cry, grinning giddily up at Javy and he grins back.

“You did it!” He reassures you and then skates back a few feet, holding his hand out. “Now try to move. See if you can come over to me. Just remember, it’s not like walking. Think about how you used to skid around in your socks as a kid.” You decide against pointing out that you still do that now. “You’re going to move with your knees and push.” He skates over to you slowly and your brows furrow in concentration as you watch his motions, committing them to memory so you can try and replicate them. “Here,” he skates over to stand beside you, “just copy me, and if you start to slip, I’ll grab you.” You watch his leg and follow with your own. Your attention is glued to his legs and replicating his movements. “There you go, you’re doing it!” Javy’s cheers snap your attention from his legs and you realize how far across the rink you’ve moved. Your eyes widen and you forget to move your feet. Unfortunately, unlike on the floor, when you stop moving your feet, you don’t stop moving and you continue to glide forward. You squawk in surprise as you realize you have no idea how to stop.

“Javy! Javy, I don’t know how to stop!” You shout and Javy’s quick to skate in front of you.

“Okay, easy now,” Javy says as your panic rises. “You’re going to bring the tips of your skates in, like the point of an arrow, and keep your weight in the center.” You fight the doubts warring in your mind and try to trust Javy’s instructions, moving your feet slowly, and to your surprise, you slow to a stop right in front of Javy. You gape at your skates attached to feet that don’t feel like yours before looking at Javy who’s wearing a proud grin. “Attagirl! You did it!” He cheers, wrapping you in his arms and you sink into his before realizing that’s probably a bad idea as your combined weights are unbalanced. Javy shifts his weight almost instinctively, keeping the two of you from bowling over. “What did I say, I won’t let you fall, pretty girl.” You feel your cheeks heat as you relish being in his arms. “You did so well, Meep, I’m proud of you.” His pride warms you from head to toe and makes you feel confident. “You all skated out, or do you want to try some more?” He’s giving you an out and your new-found confidence has you shaking your head.

“I think I want to try some more,” you see pride and joy sparkle in his eyes and he helps you rearrange your weight so you can stand on your own again.

“Well then, let’s see what you’ve got, Roadrunner,” he grins at you. “You think this Coyote can catch you?” You know he could without breaking a sweat but you play along.

“We’ll just have to see,” you tease as you carefully start moving across the ice again and Javy follows right behind, sticking close.

***

An hour later, you’re exhausted and your legs are trembling from that rather than nerves as you and Javy sit side by side on the bench, unlacing your skates and trading them for your shoes. Strands of your hair stick to your forehead that’s somehow managed to get a little sweaty despite the chilly air.

“So, did you have fun?” Javy asks as he scoops up his skates, offering you his free hand to help you back to your feet. You nod, a giddy grin still on your face. You weren’t anywhere close to his level of skill but by the end, you were a lot more confident moving across the ice. And Javy had kept his promise, you hadn’t fallen once.

“Thanks for this, Javy, really. I loved it.” He pulls you into his side, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“It was perfect,” he agrees before he pulls away so he can see your face as he asks, “What do you say to doing this again next weekend, maybe with some more company?” You cock your head, confused before he explains. “Next weekend is Family Day, where all the guys bring their girls and their families to the rink. We all just hang out and skate. There’s a potluck after and it’s just a team bonding event. I’ve been meaning to ask you to come but I knew you didn’t know how to skate and I didn’t want you to have to feel pressured to learn in front of a bunch of strangers. So I planned this, and I’d say you’re more than good enough to come if that’s something you want to do.”

Your heart pounds even as it aches at Javy’s concern for your comfort. You nod without a second thought. “I’d love to come, Javy.” You squeeze his hand in yours. “And thanks for looking out for me, I really appreciate it.” He smiles, the relief on his face is like watching the sun come out from behind the clouds and you smile back. “I can’t wait.” You assure him, snuggling against his side and he wraps you in his arms.

“Me neither,” he says and you can’t help but feel that despite the nerves and jitters, today has been perfect. You’re glad you didn’t let your nerves and anxiety ruin this perfect day, and you’re even more thankful to Javy for making you feel safe enough to have this much fun. You wouldn’t have been able to do it without him.

A/N: And with that, the Valentine’s Day festivities come to an end! But there’s plenty more to look forward to on the horizon! Which are you most excited for?

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

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goldenseresinretriever · 7 months ago

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False Confidence Masterlist

Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

A/N: This is a partial repost and continuation of my series False Confidence that originally started in March 2023 and was lost when my blog was deleted.

Main Series

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

Oneshots

Nothing here yet!

Blurbs

Nothing here yet!

#san diego dogfighters au #San Diego dogfighters #San Diego dogfighters hockey au #false confidence // goldenseresinretriever #fc // goldenseresinretriever #javy machado x reader #javy machado #Javy Machado x you #javy coyote machado #Javy Coyote Machado x reader #Javy Coyote Machado x you #coyote x reader #Coyote x you #top gun maverick hockey au #top gun maverick #top gun #TGM #no use of y/n

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goldenseresinretriever · 6 months ago

Text

False Confidence: Chapter 12

Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Word Count: 5.2k

A/N: Happy Friday, y’all!

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

You examine your classroom, straightening the decorations that you’ve hung on the wall. Every square inch of the room is decked out in various shades of pink, red, and white. Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, and while your students are too young to really grasp the concept, the air has been buzzing all week. It has little to do with love and everything to do with the promise of candy and cookies at the class party on Tuesday.

You find your eyes searching for the calendar on the classroom wall and a frown creeps up onto your lips. The Dogfighters are on a road trip right now and you’ve found yourself irritated at the way it feels like life has seemingly returned to the way it was before you met your new friends. You’ve spent the last week going home straight after work, occasionally to the Fitch house where you help Josie with the kids while she attempts to get some work done. She’s stretched thinner than usual with Reuben out of town and you can’t help the way you wonder to yourself if this is your future. And while it makes you nervous, there’s a part of your stomach that flutters giddily.

You and Javy have been official for a little over a week, but the road trip has taken up most of that time. You’re anxious to see Javy again, and you’re seriously starting to doubt the old proverb that promises that absence makes the heart grow fonder. You’ve finally allowed yourself to be upfront about your feelings for him, given that he’s actually your real boyfriend now. He’s your real boyfriend now. You can’t help the way you bounce on the balls of your feet in excitement as a fresh wave of giddy butterflies flutters through your stomach. Another glance at the calendar reminds you that despite this being your first Valentine’s Day with Javy, he’s going to have to meet it, playing a game in Seattle tomorrow night. The two of you have plans for the weekend, however, a belated celebration once he’s back and rested. After the game in Seattle, they have one more game in Denver on Thursday before they get back to San Diego on Friday.

“You’re in a good mood this morning.” A voice from behind you teases and you pause your drawing on the board to look over your shoulder to where Josie’s leaning against the doorframe.

“Josie! Good morning!” You greet her as you cap the marker and wipe your hands off on your overalls as you go over to give her a hug that she returns before handing you a to-go cup that smells delicious.

“We stopped for a little treat this morning since the kids are missing Daddy extra.” She gives you a tired but rueful smile. You know if you miss Javy after barely dating him for a week, Josie must be missing Reuben something fierce after being married for a decade.

“They’ll be home on Friday,” you remind her, trying to sound cheerful but your melancholy must show through your facade because Josie gives you a gentle smile.

“Hey, what are you doing tomorrow night?” She asks, and you see a scheming twinkle in her eyes.

“Tomorrow? Nothing really, I was going to watch the match while I grade papers, and then Javy said he’d call afterward and we could get takeout for Valentine’s Dinner.” You ignore the way your stomach flips at the words Valentine’s Dinner. “Why? Did you need help with the kids tomorrow night?”

“Yeah actually,” Josie says casually, sliding a hand into her pocket. “I thought maybe we could watch the game together?”

“Of course! That would be so much fun, what time should I come over?” You’re secretly excited not to have to spend the night alone with your TV and your thoughts when you’re sure the jitters will be too distracting to get any work done anyway.

“Well we’re going to have to leave right after school if we’re going to make the flight,” Josie says and you blink, confused until you look down and see the tickets that Josie’s holding out to you.

“W-what?” You stammer as your brain struggles to catch up with your eyes.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Roadie,” she says and you look from the tickets back up her and then back down to the tickets before you almost spill the coffee in your hand as you throw your arms around Josie. Josie laughs, fishing the coffee from your hand and depositing it safely on a nearby bookshelf.

“Josie, I can’t, it’s too much,” you blubber uselessly as you sob into her shoulder, all composure lost at your best friend’s kindness.

She just shakes her head as she pats your back comfortingly. “The kids miss their dad, I miss my husband, and you can’t miss your first Valentine’s Day with Javy. He’s still not my favorite person in the world but he makes you happy so I can’t hate him.” You choke out a chuckle at Josie’s words.

“Thank you, Josie.” You whisper and she just shakes her head again.

“Don’t thank me, just enjoy the day.” She pauses before she adds. “I’d originally wanted to surprise you with it tomorrow but I figured I should give you a chance to pack.” She laughs and you join in.

“I think my brain might have exploded,” you point out and she laughs harder.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning, so we have just one car and we can go straight from work to the airport.” You nod, still breathless over the fact that you’ll get to see Javy tomorrow.

“Wait, do the boys know?” You ask, your brain firing at a mile-a-minute.

Josie shakes her head, a conspiratory grin spreading across her face. “I thought we could surprise them. Zam knows she’s the one that arranged the game tickets.”

“We’re going to the game?!” You grasp the papers Josie’s still holding and you shuffle through them to see the game tickets under the plane tickets. “Josie!” You shriek and she laughs, head tipping back.

“Don’t yell at me, those are complimentary! WAG privileges,” she reminds you and you shake your head in disbelief. Not only do you get to see Javy tomorrow, but you get to go to the game and surprise him. “Alright, I need to get going before my kids start showing up but I’ll see you at lunch,” you wave to Josie before returning to your prep for the day.

Suddenly you feel ridiculous for all the stressing you’ve done over the past week, trying to decide what to get your boyfriend for Valentine’s Day. You know Javy has no qualms about spending ridiculous sums of money on you, but you’re not exactly in a position to do the same. All the same, you’re feeling pretty proud of your Valentine’s Day gift for Javy. You’re also extremely happy that you finished in time for Valentine’s Day despite thinking you wouldn’t be able to give it to him until Saturday. You’re nervous but excited to see his reaction to it. You’re even more excited to see his reaction to your and Josie’s surprise.

***

You’re secretly glad that all you have planned for today is a Valentine’s Day party. You’re not sure you have the focus required to teach your students today since you’ve been bouncing off the walls with nervous excitement since you got out of bed this morning, not that you’d slept much at all. You’re secretly thankful for the parents who volunteered to help with the party because your mind is on this evening, your eyes flitting to the clock constantly, counting down the seconds until you’re done with work.

You know you should calm down and conserve your energy. The next twenty-four hours are going to be a whirlwind. After school ends, you have to rush to the airport to make your direct flight to Seattle, and from there you need to rush to the arena to make it in time for the game. After that, you’ll spend the night in Seattle before catching a red-eye from Seattle back to San Diego with barely enough time to make it back in time to teach Wednesday morning. Josie’s planning to drop off the kids with Penny for the day, since they’ll likely be too exhausted to handle a full day of school after all that travel. You secretly wish you could afford to take tomorrow off, but with so little notice, you know better than to try.

Your eyes move from the clock to the comically large vase currently taking up most of your desk. The flowers had been delivered during first period and you can’t help the giddy smile that stretches your face as you look at the bright orange blossoms. Your students had descended into giggles when you told them it was from Javy and you couldn't help but join in.

***

Your students finally make their way to lunch and you slump across your desk, letting the scent of the tiger lilies above you permeate your nose, and as sweet as they smell, you find yourself missing a different scent, a smokier, spicier one. You let out an exhausted groan as Josie lets herself in, coming to sit across from you.

“He sent you flowers,” she remarks, and you think she sounds a little impressed. You turn your head to squish your cheek against the cool wooden surface as you look at her and nod.

“Aren’t they perfect?” You say, a shy smile tugging at your lips as you follow her gaze to the orange blossoms.

“Tiger lilies? Not roses?” She asks, reaching a hand out to finger the blossoms, curiously.

“They’re my favorite.” You explain. “I don’t know how he knew,” you muse as a thought occurs to you. “Did you tell him?” Josie holds up her hands in surrender.

“It wasn’t me. I didn’t even know you liked tiger lilies.” Your brow furrows in thought.

“Well, technically, I love all lilies,”

“But those are your favorites now since they’re the ones he bought you,” Josie interrupts your thought and you look at her, surprised as you nod, cheeks heating.

“I used to like mums, back in college, they were my favorite and I was super vocal about it. Then I met Reuben and on our first date he bought me dahlias because he’d bought them thinking they were just big mums, and in that moment I realized I never wanted anything but dahlias. They reminded me of him, and how eager he was to make me happy, and now they’re my favorites.” The two of you sit in content silence for a long moment before she speaks up again. “Are you excited for tonight?” Your face brightens instantly and you nod enthusiastically.

“I still can’t believe it’s real, thank you so much again, Josie.” She shakes her head.

“Thank you for coming with me,” she chuckles, “but after you experience flying with two kids, I don’t think you’ll take me up on the offer again.” She teases and you roll your eyes.

“I love your kids,” you remind her and she chuckles.

“You do now, just wait.”

***

You can’t help the nerves that are pacing in your stomach as you worry the edge of the jersey you’re wearing. You try to channel the restless energy into helping Josie wrangle the kids. They are restless too, excited to see their dad, and cranky from their naps on the plane. You can’t find it in you to be irritated with them when you see your own raw emotions on display in them. You glance over your shoulder, anxious for warmups to begin so you can see Javy and the tension in your heart can finally snap.

Skylar bumps into you on accident as she tries to wrangle one of the homemade signs that are jammed into the bag on the floor. They’re incredibly cheesy, but Josie had insisted that they’re a necessary part of the surprise. You help her unfold them and hand her and Jamie the one they’ll hold together. It’s a simple mess of glitter and paint that reads, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Daddy!” Josie gives it a long look like she’s considering hoisting it herself and you roll your eyes as you slide out the sign that Josie made for the two of you. You haven’t seen it yet and you’re a little nervous. Josie is a lot braver than you are and she’s been married for a decade while you’re in your first real relationship that’s barely a week old. You carefully unroll the sign and feel your cheeks heat as you read the words on it. “It’s not just puppy love, Happy Valentine’s Day, Dogfighters!” It’s sweet and playful but your eyes are caught on one particular four-letter word.

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears so loud that you almost miss the rise of cheers that rise through the arena. You look up as Josie grabs your arm in one hand and her side of the sign in the other. You’re yanked back to the present as a familiar blur of green whips down the ice towards you. The team heads down to their end of the ice to start warming up and you remember to lift your edge of the sign as your eyes dart furiously from one player to the next, searching for number 68 and any sign of Javy. You hear the kids screaming for their dad in the corner of your consciousness, followed by the pound of their little hands against the glass as Reuben skates up.

Your eyes turn more frantic even though you know he’s here somewhere, he has to be. Your heart thunders in your chest as the unreasonable doubts start crawling in and making a home in your aching chest. You miss the moment a figure on the ice stops until a full body slams into the glass in front of you making the whole wall shake and then you’re looking at Javy’s full grin and wide eyes and he looks like an excited puppy as he gapes at you. You can’t help the excited grin that bubbles to the surface and matches his. You wave slightly as you place your hands on the glass over his on the other side.

“Hi,” you whisper even though you know he won’t be able to hear you.

“Hi,” he breathes back. His breath clouds the glass and your stomach flips when he draws a lopsided heart and writes “hi” inside it. You giggle as grins at you. Your moment is broken as Jake skates by and grabs Javy by the back of his jersey playfully. He blows you a kiss as he drags Javy back towards warmups. You try not to think too hard about the fact that Javy’s eyes stay on you the entire time before they disappear back down the tunnel.

***

You know you should be focussing on the score. It’s currently tied at 1-1 but instead, you’re still dizzy over the adrenaline of the day and the way Javy’s playing at the top of his game today. He’d assisted Jake’s goal in the second period, and you spent the whole break watching the replays online since it was on the other side of the rink. The score remains tied and the clock is running on the third period. Your lips are gnawed to hell as you watch the clock drop lower and lower. This period the Dogfighters are shooting on your side of the rink and you’ve been glued to the glass since it started. You wince as one of Seattle’s defensemen scuffles with Javy by the boards feet away from you, digging at the puck as it slides between their sticks and skates. Your brow furrows as a stray elbow catches Javy’s shoulder and you shout out in protest, as your hands find the glass where you bang alongside the Seattle fans. When you hear them cheering for the other player, you hear your voice rise, cheering for Javy amidst the louder screams. You’re caught up in the fever, the adrenaline of the game, the excitement of the day, and seeing your boyfriend. You catch his eye briefly as his eyes dart up unconsciously and you swear he winks at you, sending heat up your cheeks and knocking the breath from your lungs. Javy manages to dig the puck out of the corner and you watch as he knocks it backward to where Jake’s waiting to whisk it off towards the goal. Your heart is in your throat as you watch Jake’s approach, the opposing defense coming up to try and block his path to the goal. His linemates are trying to open themselves up for a pass but there are no open paths on the ice.

You watch his stick swing anyway, but you don’t see the puck fly into the fray. Your brow furrows in confusion until you watch Javy shoot out from behind him, the puck dancing along the edge of his stick, completely unmarked. Your stomach flips as you see the look on his face. For a moment it feels like you’re watching the sun come out from behind the clouds as you take in the boyish grin stretched across Javy’s face. His eyes are glinting with mischief you’ve seen plenty of times on your students’ tiny faces, and he’s glowing with confidence as he whips down the ice. Your heart is in your throat as you watch the other players slowly realize where the puck has gone and then you watch the black disk fly off the end of Javy’s stick. The goalie starts to move in his direction, but it’s clear he hasn’t realized Javy’s shot until it’s too late and his glove is still inches away as the puck sails over his shoulder.

You’re sure you’re screaming and then Josie’s screaming and she’s grabbing you and you’re grabbing her, and you can’t take your eyes off him as he roars in triumph and then he’s pointing with both hands and you’re trying to understand what at, it doesn’t make any sense and then he’s laughing and you read his lips as he tries to contain himself. “You.” Your brows furrow and you look down at yourself in confusion before turning around to look behind you as Josie laughs beside you as the other boys start crowding Javy.

Josie grasps your shoulders as your confusion grows. “It’s you, Roadie.”

“W-what’s me?” You ask, glancing back towards the ice where Javy’s getting set up for the next face-off.

You look back in time to see Josie shake her head, a fond look in her eyes. “Everything,” she says before giving you a tight hug and you feel your stomach twist as you watch the jumbotrons replay the goal and you watch Javy point at the stands all over again. Oh. You. You’ve spent your whole adult life expecting not to be chosen, never expecting to be anything but the butt of a joke, that you weren’t worthy of being chosen. People look through you, people look past you, people don’t look at you, people don’t see you. And yet in the last month, you’ve felt more seen than you have in the last thirty years of your life. They look at you, they see you. He sees you.

You don’t hear the whistle, you don’t hear the last of the game, you don’t hear the horn as the clock runs out. You’re overwhelmed, and you’ve been overwhelmed before, but it’s different this time. The usual fear, the pain, the panic, none of that is what you feel now. “Roadie?” You blink and realize belatedly that you’re crying and you turn to her and throw your arms around her neck.

“Thank you, just thank you.” You don’t recognize the sound of your voice as you shake your head and just hold your best friend. She doesn’t question it and holds you back like she already knows, and maybe she does.

***

You place a hand over your knee to try and stop the way it’s restlessly bouncing as you sit on the bench in some hallway, waiting for Javy. You’re not a spouse, so you weren’t allowed into the locker room area with Josie and the kids. A member of the Kraken’s staff had led the four of you to the private section of the stadium and you’ve been waiting for at least an hour. You turn your phone on, glancing at the clock and debating texting Javy but you know he’s probably just finishing up his post-game responsibilities. He knows you’re here. He’ll find you. You stifle a yawn as you stare at the screen, your stomach dropping as you realize how few hours you have until you’ll have to head back to the airport and back to your life.

You close your eyes, trying to ignore the math that your brain insists on doing because it’s not enough and you’re not ready to be back home, exhausted and alone, thrust back into your routine for another three days until Javy gets home. You barely suppress a groan as you lean your head against the wall behind you, trying to reconcile the consequences of your actions as the lull in the business of the day gives you a break from the adrenaline that’s been coursing through you all day. You’re slowly descending into a spiral of your own thoughts when you hear the squeak of hinges in your periphery and you turn your head, your body sitting up, the giddy excitement of seeing Javy beating out the exhaustion settling into your bones as you watch the corner, begging Javy to come around it.

You’ve barely caught enough of his silhouette to confirm it’s him before you’re bouncing off the bench and running for him. Running to him is a blur, but then you’re in his arms, and the scent of sweat mixed with his cologne engulfs your nose and you feel the tension melt out of your body as you settle against him. The two of you stay silent for a long beat, your bodies refamiliarizing themselves with the feeling of holding the other, committing it to memory, to carry the two of you through the rest of the week. When the two of you finally choose to speak, it happens at the same time.

“Thank you,” Javy whispers into your hair.

“Thank you,” You croak, your voice breaking over the words all over again. The silence that falls between you is comfortable and you can tell he’s waiting for you to go first so you tell him the words that have been on your lips for the last hour. “Thank you for seeing me.” Your chest heaves shakily as you fight the words out, but his arms just tighten around you as he holds you, like he’d physically hold you together if you shattered to pieces.

He pulls back and removes his hands from your waist to cup your cheeks as his dark eyes look into yours and straight through to your soul. “You’re impossible to miss.” He says as he strokes his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks, and when he says it, you find that it’s not so hard to believe it. “Thank you for coming,” he whispers before running his nose against yours, your lips just shy of ghosting over each other.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be,” you whisper back, and when he kisses you it feels like you’ve let out a breath you’ve been holding for the last week.

“Alright, Meep,” Javy says when he finally pulls away, leaning his forehead against yours, arms returning to your waist to keep you close, “you gonna tell me what you’re doing here, beautiful?” You feel your cheeks heat even though you’re already in his arms, and he’s already kissed you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Javy.” It sounds so silly as you say the words, but you wonder if that’s because it’s the first time you’ve said them romantically.

He chuckles softly before pressing a simple kiss to your lips “Happy Valentine’s Day, Meep, but I mean what’re you doing in Seattle on a school night.” You shrug slightly because you don’t really have an answer.

“Josie’s the right brand of crazy and she has the budget to back it up?” You both laugh at that.

“I hate to ruin the mood,” Javy says before closing his eyes for a moment, “but when do you leave?” Your stomach drops again. In the joy of being reunited with Javy, you’d forgotten that you’ll have to leave him again in just a few short hours.

“We have a red-eye back to San Diego so we can make it back to work tomorrow,” you explain and you know Javy’s doing his best not to mirror the disappointment you’re feeling. “But you’ll be back in San Diego on Friday, right? That’s not so bad.” One glance at him says that he believes your words about as much as you do. “But at least we have tonight,” you relent.

“At least we have tonight,” he agrees. “Well then, let’s not waste a second.” He leads you out of the stadium. Most fans have since dispersed, returning home since it’s a Tuesday. The area around the stadium is lit with lights as and there are a fair amount of people milling around. Javy takes your hand and leads you through the park surrounding the stadium as you crane your neck back to get a good look at the Space Needle as it closer and closer.

There are a few people milling around and entering the Space Needle as you and Javy approach the ticket desk. The lady at the desk’s eyes widen in recognition as Javy purchases tickets for the two of you. When you enter, you stay close to Javy, feeling nerves bubble like butterflies as the photographer takes your picture and you watch Javy give him him email address for the photos. “My privacy is already nonexistent, there’s no need to compromise yours,” he explains when you offer to give yours instead. You walk up the spiral walkway to the elevator with Javy’s hand in yours. The ride to the top is silent and you’re sure you notice the elevator attendance staring at the two of you. The fact that you’re wearing Javy’s last name on your back doesn’t really help with the subtlety.

When the elevator doors open your breath catches in your throat. There are glass walls separating you from the balcony that wraps around the room the elevator opens onto, but you can already see the lights of Seattle twinkling from here. You find yourself dragging Javy to the balcony. The city of Seattle is alight all around you. From here you can see Climate Pledge Area, the rest of the park, and various museums in the area around you. You can also see the darkness of Elliot Bay. As you make your way around the balcony, you come face to face with the dazzling skyscrapers of downtown as the city itself sprawls out into the distance. It’s gorgeous and your fingers itch to paint the stunning view. You pull out your phone, snapping some inspiration photos. You’re already planning how you’re going to approach the painting when Javy slides his arms around your waist from behind, leaning his chin on your shoulder.

“What’s going on in your pretty little head, Meep?” He asks and you feel embarrassment creep over you for just abandoning him when he brought you up here and came all the way here to see him.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about how much I want to paint this view,” You explain as you gaze out at the city below you.

“Well, I can’t wait to see it,” Javy whispers. “And I hope I have first dibs when it goes on sale,” he murmurs, nuzzling your cheek gently.

“Javy, I’m not making you pay for my art!” You exclaim indignantly, leaning into him as the wind off the bay whips around the two of you. Javy wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you close.

“Pretty girl, where is your coat?” He asks as he snuggles you.

“We live in San Diego, I don’t have one!” You grumble indignantly. “It doesn’t get this cold there,” he nods against your shoulder.

“Okay, that is true, I’ll give you that.” He rubs your arms. “At least you’re wearing long sleeves,” he points out.

“Do you like it?” You’d been too shy to ask last time. Well, that and last time you hadn’t been wearing his name as his real girlfriend.

“I love it,” he says with a forcefulness that makes your heart flutter.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” You wiggle out of his grip to get the box out of your purse. “I know we’re going to celebrate on Saturday, but I figured since I was going to be here, I could give you your gift today!”

“Meep,” Javy groans. “You came all this way, you didn’t have to get me anything, plus I don’t have your gift here,” he bemoans and you wave him off.

“You didn’t know I was coming, and neither did I until yesterday, so I had already gotten you a gift. Plus, you bought the tickets to come up here,” you remind him. You hand him the narrow box and he arches a curious eyebrow as you draw the sleeves of your jersey over your hands and hug your arms around yourself. Javy notices and gently guides you so that your back is to the building behind you and he’s blocking the wind with his body before he opens the box. You hold your breath anxiously as he unwraps the paper inside before his breath catches.

“Roadie…” he murmurs and you swallow hard, trying to decipher if you’ve hit the nail on the head or missed it entirely. Javy lifts the tie out of the box, examining it in the light that’s filtering out from inside. You’ve covered the originally-white fabric with fabric paint, doing your best to recreate a slice of the cliff painting he bought at your show. And there at the very bottom are the embracing figures that represent him and you. “Roadie, this is beautiful. Did you paint this?” His voice is full of awe as he looks at you and you nod.

“I know it’s not the most faithful recreation but fabric paint is pretty fickle. I thought maybe you could wear it with one of your game day suits.” You admit. While exploring the team’s Instagram account you found the highlight of game day suit posts, and that had inspired you to make the tie.

“I’m getting rid of every other tie I own when I get home,” Javy declares and your eyes widen in horror.

“But this is blue, and it won’t match every suit!” You protest and he chuckles.

“Well then I’ll just get rid of all the blue ones, and every year I can get rid of a different color.” You see the nerves dancing in his eyes at the boldness of his statement, at the assumption that there will be more years. That you’ll be together long enough for a dozen Valentine’s Days and a dozen ties.

“Well I do take requests,” you say and you watch the anxiety leave his shoulders and you kiss your boyfriend at the top of the Space Needle on the night of your very first Valentine’s Day, and everything is perfect.

A/N: The Valentine’s Day festivities aren’t quite done yet, what do we think Javy has planned for Saturday?

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