#tgm hockey au

[oopsallgoalies]

Snitches Get Stitches Masterlist

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, (potentially eventual) smut, forbidden romance, sexual harassment, suggestive language, medical inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

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.

Main Series: COMPLETED

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 4.5

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 7.5

Chapter 8

Chapter 8.5

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Oneshots

Daddy’s Queen

One Man’s Trash

Blurbs

Matcha Latte

[doodledraw]

icemav hockey au drawing!! It was inspired by a picture from this post by @thatsrightice which I’ve had open since they posted it last October. Wow. I can finally close that tab haha

anyway, since it’s my birthday I thought I’d finally finish it up and post it because it is quite self indulgent and has little to do with the plot of the fic except for vague metaphoric meaning….hope you like it!

[jayjay-thejet-plane]

Today’s work doodles featuring hockey bradley and a tiny rooster making a face :P

[oopsallgoalies]

OH IM PISSING SHITTING AND CRYING RIGHT NOW GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET AAAAAAAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH THIS IS LITERALLY EVERYTHING IVE EVER WANTED AS A HOCKEY AND TGM FAN AND A HOCKEY AU WRITER, THEYRE JUST AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA 🤌🏾🤌🏾🤌🏾🤌🏾 AND BY MY FAVORITE TOP GUN ARTIST???? GUESS I CAN DIE HAPPY NOW 😭😭😭 THIS IS JUST AMAZING OMG EVERYONE NEEDS TO SEE THIS

You mentioned you’re looking for art ideas and I’m going to be so honest, I’ve been thinking about the potential hockey au piece since you first mentioned it, so maybe that ha ha jk unless??? 🫣

hockey bros !!

[exhuastedpigeon]

tell me everything about the giant hangster wip, i need deets

BABY I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED!!!!!

Okay so I saw TGM on a flight like 2 years ago and was like, those two are definitely shippable and then I spent 3 weeks in Europe and forgot about them. Fast forward to October of last year when a friend asks if I'd beta their first Hangster fic and I was like... yes but let me rewatch the movie and I was slapped in the face with the desire to write a hangster Olympic hockey AU.

Except you've know me, I needed some backstory for them being at the Olympics which spiraled into me going "well I'll just write the entire hockey season". The original outline was literally four chapters each titled with a season (Chapter 1 was summer, Chapter 2 was fall, etc).

But Jake grabbed me by the throat and was like "Actually Han, this fic is going to be at least 10 chapters and my dad died when I was 19 and I have not processed that and this is a slow burn long distance rivals to friends to lovers story :)"

So we've got Hangman playing for the San Jose Sharks, Rooster playing for the Washington Capitols, all the daggers playing Olympic hockey together, a truly insane amount of backstory, Hangster being so insane about each other, and a lot of me making romantic metaphors using hockey.

A little snippet from Chapter 5 under the cut :)

“What the fuck was that,” Jake seethes, pushing Bradley into the locker room between the first and second period. 

“I lost the puck -”

“No Bradshaw, that wasn’t you losing the puck,” Jake’s not sure why he’s so much more mad at Bradley than the rest of the guys who were on the ice, maybe because he expects more of Bradley, because he knows how good he is. “That was playing so carefully that you got left behind. Stop. Fucking. Thinking.”

“Easy for you to say” Bradley mutters, turning away from Jake with an eye roll, grabbing a water bottle off of the bench as he does.

“Mav,” Jake calls across the room where Maverick has clearly been watching them. “Gonna tell Bradshaw here how he fucked up?”

“You’re doing a pretty good job of that for me,” Maverick says and then he turns to address the room at large. “First period under your belts means I expect the jitters to be gone when we’re back out on the ice. Coyote - you’re moving to a line with Omaha and Hammer. Hangman, you’re moving to a line with Rooster and Fritz.”

Jake opens his mouth to say something - he’s not sure what - when Maverick gives him a look that shuts him up before he can even start. He’s not sure what the fuck is going on - he was centering the second line, more like the second first line with how fucking good they are, he doesn’t want to be pushed to wing. It feels like he’s being punished. 

“Same plan of attack - we’re faster, stronger, and better than they are. We need to start actually capitalizing on the turnovers and get some breakaways,” Maverick says and Jake’s heard it all before. It was what he talked about during camp this summer and what he talked about on the flight over and what he talked about while they were cheering on the women’s team. “I expect us to be tied or winning before the next intermission.”

[princessphilly]

Should I return to writing hockey fic?

@navybrat817 @newlibrary @notaccurateornice @chara-hugs @ramp-it-up @fallinallincurls @huggybearmylove43 @whoeverineedtobe @withahappyrefrain @ysmmsy @woodswit @buckets-and-trees @biteofcherry @thezombieprostitute @thighlerseguin @nuge @fineanddandy @2manytabsopen @2-fast-2-curious and anyone else

[tgmsunmontue]

WIP List💜

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

Tagged By: Tagged by @film-in-my-soul - I won't be tagging anyone because I NEED to write (which means my asks may get ignored for a little bit while I try and update some of these WIPs). Also want to try and do some digital drawing today... And I have to do some baking.

Options:

TGM Elves and Orcs

TGM Wrong number

TGM Too Hot

TGM DADT repeal and Vegas mistakes

TGM Hockey trade AU #2

TGM StT - ONE SHOTS

TGM and TF crossover

TGM BB 2025

TGM Wilf fields of forget-me-nots

TGM USN is evil and has bebbies

TGM You look like a bad idea

TGM My kingdom for a kiss

TGM Insta back and forth flirting

TGM WIP B SoS NB BB with HD

TGM AU Theatre Theatrics

TGM Traffic Jam

TGM Stuck with you

Fine fine sunshiny day

The Laws of Thermodynamics

(18 and 19 are both Glee which is why you won't recognise them, unless you're one of the three people who are friends from my Glee fandom days...)

So - every time I say I'm sitting down to write - I am opening ALL of these generally because I am an optimist. 🤦‍♀️Or an idiot. 🤷

[overusedtoothbrush]

fav smut/fan fic u have ever read?

look i don’t *usually* seek out smut so i can’t speak to that and ive only read enough from tlou, star wars and top gun to have favorites sooo:

tlou:

absolution by spitfiresparrow first fic i ever read and it’s hella good. very good continuation of tlou 2. massive soft spot for this fic.

rough around the edges by jollygreengiant, fair warning it’s unfinished but i enjoy it immensely. i have a soft spot for modern aus and even more so sports aus and its a hockey/figure skating au with dina and ellie

top gun:

men like us by dancingdisaster, loooovvvve i read this almost exactly a year ago and it remains one of my all time favorites. such a good explanation and look into rooster and hangman’s dynamic

iwtby by hangmanbradshaw got me into men’s sports. football au starring hangman and rooster from tgm. also fun fact i read most of this fic at work.

star wars:

the farm boy and the princess by myrlendi, this fic made me cry. stems from a headcanon that luke and leia dreamt of eachother during their childhood and i looooovvvvvveeee this fic.

there’s one i can’t remember/find in my bookmarks so if someone knows it lmk, it was basically abt what if luke and leia were college students and luke ran away and han and leia went looking for him. i clue what it’s called or who the author was but i liked that one too

i have only really read memorable fics from tlou and top gun. very sry if ur not a tlou/sw/tg person but these r my faves.

[doodledrawreblogs]

WIP Game

tagged by @adiduck and @starrybouquet !!

rules: make a 24-hour poll with the names of your wips, let it run, then write one sentence for every vote the winner got

(and I'll be writing something for all of these)

may the best wip win >:)) just kidding they'll all win something

I have no idea who's been tagged or not so forgive me if you've already gotten mentioned in this game but @thebahwrites @lookforanewangle :))

[oopsallgoalies]

San Diego Dogfighters AU Masterlist

Header by @bobgasm

A/N: This is a repost of my Top Gun Maverick hockey!au the San Diego Dogfighters. It was originally posted in October 2023, and was lost when my blog was deleted.

From now on, I will no longer be posting my writing on tumblr. After some consideration, I’ve decided to shift to posting my various fanfictions on AO3 instead of tumblr. I’m not quitting writing any of my fics, just shifting where they’ll be posted from here on out.

For those on here who want to be notified when I post updates to my fics, you can follow my new side blog, @goldenseresinretriever-updates and turn on post notifications. Whenever I post a new update to AO3, I’ll be posting the link to the new chapter on that account to serve as a way to update the folks on here that want to continue to support my writing. On the blog, you’ll also find a a masterlist with quick access links to all my fics on AO3 as well as to my profile on AO3 for ease of access.

Snitches Get Stitches: Jake Seresin x TeamPhysician!Reader (COMPLETE)

You Catch More Bees With Honey: Bradley Bradshaw x PRRep!Reader (COMPLETE)

Rules of Engagement: Bradley Bradshaw x PRRep!Reader (UPCOMING)

False Confidence: Javy Machado x ElementarySchoolTeacher!Reader (ONGOING)

Don’t Wake the Dragon: Bob Floyd x GoalieCoach!Simpson!Reader (COMING SUMMER 2025)

The Long Game: Pete Mitchell x AssistantCoach!Reader (UPCOMING)

Muscle Memory: Mickey Garcia x SportsReporter!Reader (UPCOMING)

[doodledraw]

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!!

[oopsallgoalies]

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 two 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?

[oopsallgoalies]

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?”

[daggerspare-standingby]

Any way we can get the rest of the team? I’m obsessed!!!

You mentioned you’re looking for art ideas and I’m going to be so honest, I’ve been thinking about the potential hockey au piece since you first mentioned it, so maybe that ha ha jk unless??? 🫣

hockey bros !!

[oopsallgoalies]

Don’t Wake The Dragon: Masterlist

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: Practically nobody in the world of professional hockey, Bob Floyd gets his big break when he signs a contract with the San Diego Dogfighters. Trying to find his balance amid all the expectations heaped on him, he’s on the verge of losing his nerve. You’re the daughter of former NHL player and current manager of the Dogfighters, Beau Simpson. When you blow your big shot, your dad offers you a temporary position as the goalie development coach for the Dogfighters. The problem is, you’re as uncomfortable in your own skin as well as the box your father expects you to fit into. When you meet your new coachee, you find a kindred spirit in the one person who doesn’t expect you to be anyone but yourself. 

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

A/N: Bob girlies, it’s finally your time!

Main Series: Coming Summer 2025

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Oneshots

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Blurbs

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Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for when the fic comes out!

[oopsallgoalies]

False Confidence Masterlist

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.

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

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Oneshots

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Blurbs

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