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goldenseresinretriever · 18 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?