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samkerrworshipper · 5 months

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twos a company, threes a crowd pt.4 | alexia putellas x reader x lucy bronze

r is loaned to real madrid and suffers with being away from her partners for so long… when the el clasico rolls around all of her problems are solved… but not without some repercussions for her actions.

warnings: angst, fluff, comfort, sadness, over working, touch deprived, sleep deprived, punishment, safe word use, injury, concussion, so much angst lol but y'all were begging for it.

Getting loaned to Real Madrid was possibly the worst thing that had ever happened to you.

You’d been blindsided by the request, you were happy at Barcelona, you were Barcelona’s star striker, an indomitable force on the field and you’d just won the Liga F golden boot, you were everything to Barca, until you weren’t. It was astronomical to your teammates that Barcelona would loan you out, seemingly it was for the money and with the hopes that you would learn some leadership skills from being the strongest in a team. Real Madrid was paying a hefty fee for your season with them, but it still hurt knowing that to Barcelona you were a mere transaction.

Everything you loved and knew were in Barcelona, your family, your girlfriends, your house, your dogs and cat, your friends.

Madrid was great, and there were plenty of upsides to the team, they were all lovely, the coaching staff was great, your new apartment was awesome, but there were things missing, your girlfriends firstly.

You face timed every day. It had been impossible for the two women helping you pack up and move all of your things across the country. Sure, they were only a six hour drive away and a hour long flight away, but it killed them both nonetheless.

They saw the way that as the season progressed you began to become more tucked up in your own shell, the bright light in your eyes slowly fading. It killed them, talking to you every night and seeing the way that your eyes struggled to meet their own anymore.

They loved you more than anything, but you were a person who needed structure, you couldn’t function by yourself. You needed attention, attention that they couldn’t grant you from hundreds of kilometres away, so you started to get cheeky and bratty. Sending them videos of you touching yourself in the shower, or explicitly disregarding text messages they were sending you. Normally, the two older women would be pissed off, and they were, but the underlying theme was that you were struggling, struggling being away and your coping mechanism was to act out for their attention. The more weeks that passed without their presence, the more needy you became for them, the desperation for your two girlfriends growing in your stomach and slowly swallowing up all of the other organs that resided in your body.

With the El Clasico match quickly approaching though, the women took solace in knowing that you would be able to spend the rest of the weekend after the game, that they’d finally have you in their arms and for even a second they could make you feel loved and less alone.

You’d agreed that before the game you’d be strictly professional, you’d stay in your hotel room but as soon as the game was over you were heading back to your old house for a few days of peace with your girlfriends. You were a little bit scared, when the facetime request chimed in from your phone the night beforehand, you were lying in your hotel bed and you couldn’t help but feel anxious. Because you knew what you’d been doing to the women the last few weeks, it had been like a game for you, seeing just how much you could push before you found the end to the Barcelona players tethers.

“Hola Bebita.”

You pushed yourself up from the bed sheets, sitting yourself up against the headboard to get a proper view at Lucy, whose face was directly in front of yours on the phone screen.

“Hi Luce.”

Your voice was as meek as ever, your throat clearing itself from the sleepy haze you’d been in.

“How you doing sweetheart?”

Lucy’s voice was so sweet, it was interesting to you, considering the outwardly explicit videos you’d been sending them over the week, progressively getting more scandalous the closer your date came to travelling to Barcelona for the game. You were expecting a angry Lucy, deiniftely an angry Alexia, especially considering that you’d broken her one cardinal rule that she’d given you before you left.

Do not orgasm without her permission.

That wasn’t to say that Alexia was expecting you to hold out for months at times, of course not, she just expected you to call or text her, so she could guide you through it, you’d explicitly ignored that rule, and you expected her to be annoyed.

“I’m okay, tired from the train, how’s Ale’s knee?”

There was worry laced in your words, when you’d received the news that Alexia had a set back with her knee you’d been gutted for her, and worried, because Alexia tended to fall down the rabbit hole when she was injured, and you just hoped that she was doing alright.

“It’s a minor injury, nothing to do with her ACL, which is good. She’s sitting out tomorrow, so she’s obviously upset, but it’s not her ACL, so that’s what matters the most. She’s in the bathroom right now, but I’ll chuck her on when she’s done. How are you feeling about tomorrow?”

Lucy’s voice was so genuine, so calm, so caring, and if you were feel less insecure you probably would have confessed all of your worries to her, but you felt so fucking desperate for Lucy and Alexia that it was starting to hurt you but you also didn’t want to come across as needy, even if you felt like you were breaking at the seems for them.

“Okay.”

Your answer was short, and Lucy frowned at it, because she knew that you were most likely feeling anything but okay. She was going to push it, but she was interrupted by Alexia emerging from the bathroom and walking over to join her on the bed, climbing under the sheets and pulling Lucy’s phone from her hands so she could look at you.

“Hola bebe, how are you?”

Alexia’s voice is gruff, and if you didn’t know her so well you probably wouldn’t have picked up on the slight puffiness to her eyes, that told you she’d probably been crying whilst she was tucked away in the bathroom, you knew her like the back of your palm though.

“I’m okay, how’s your knee?” There was some obvious tension coming from Alexia, tension that you were sure you’d get to feel in person tomorrow.

“I’ve had bigger setbacks, we still have to assess the scans indepthly and get a treatment plan in action. It’s probably just a few rough weeks, but I’ll make it.”

You nod, she always does, she never fails to amaze you with her can-do attitude and determination to always be better, to always be at the top of whatever she’s doing.

“I believe in you.”

Ale gives you a soft smile, and it doesn’t calm all of the nerves contained in you but it does manage to calm your heart down.

“We’re so excited to see you tomorrow amor, you’re going to make us proud even in that ugly uniform.”

You know that no matter what club you are at, Alexia and Lucy are always going to be your biggest supporters, but you can’t shake the reminder that tomorrow, when you step on the pitch, all of your friends and family are going to be your enemy.

It plucks at your heartstrings, and almost sends tears to the back of your eyes.

“How’s the team been? I feel like we haven’t talked about any of it with us all being so busy.”

The team was fine.

That was the problem, the team was your team, but they weren’t your family, they weren’t the support that you needed and craved.

“They’re good, Olga’s been nice and me and Raso get along.”

The two women nodded, they knew they weren’t going to get much from you, but this was even less than what they had expected.

“That’s good, you can tell us all about it tomorrow, hmm? We’re so excited to hear every single detail.”

The way both of their faces were so happy and content made your stomach do front flips.

“I’m excited to see you guys as well.”

It’s hard for you to admit, because for the last six or so weeks that you’ve been apart, you’ve internally been denying it, trying to convince yourself that you were fine without them, but in reality you were struggling more than ever.

Alexia gave you a small smile, her lips tightening upwards into a sweet smile.

“You’ve been taking care of yourself, sí? Getting your sleep and listening to your dietician?”

You don’t like lying to anybody, especially Lucy and Alexia, but in your mind in some situations, there is justification for some white lies, especially when it’s going to benefit the person you’re lying to.

“Yup.”

Your words are half empty, trying to get this conversation over as soon as possible.

“Well, we’d better let you get to sleep then, we’ll see you tomorrow bebe, don’t hesitate to call us if anything happens, okay?”

You nodded at the two of them, a little part of your heart begging for them to hang up so you didn’t have to see how happy they were together, how at peace the two of them looked lying in bed together without you.

“Bye, see you tomorrow.”

They both smiled at you, Lucy pressed a kiss to the camera.

“We love you amor, good luck tomorrow.”

You gulped, just another reminder of what tomorrow held.

“Love you guys too, see you tomorrow.”

Before you had to look at them any longer you pressed the red button, dropping your phone onto the duvet and groaning into the pillow behind you.

You’d never considered yourself as the jealous type, in the beginning of your relationship you’d been the glue that kept it all together, Alexia brought Lucy in for you, not for herself. When you’d been in Barca their relationship had grown slowly, but surely, you encouraged it.

When you’d left, you’d almost been scared that it would be the end of your relationship with the both of them, you just weren’t sure that they’d be able to sustain it, but you’d watched their relationship strengthen massively, the two of them becoming practically inseparable in your absence.

You were happy for them, so incredibly happy, but it made you feel a little bit out of place, a little bit like when you returned to Barca everything would be different, maybe all of their love was being used for each other and they didn’t have anymore to give to you.

It felt like you’d become a chore for them, a scheduled call every few nights, flowers or meals showing up on your doorstep every week from them, texts here and there asking how you were doing.

You were all trying your best, but they had each other, the both of them got to come home to each other every night, you came home to an empty apartment.

Your apartment was a shell, exactly the same as when you’d moved in.

You didn’t put out any pictures, didn’t buy any furniture, it seemed pointless to you, because Real Madrid was supposed to be temporary, you didn’t want to settle down, didn’t want to become at home in a place that you would be leaving as soon as you could.

You knew it wasn’t exactly healthy, but it worked for you, or it worked for the first little while.

The hard part though was that you didn’t have a home at all, and a person can only survive so long without having some form of home, some form of comfort.

You tried your hardest to sleep through the night, to get some rest before the game, but no sleep came to you as you lay in the lump hotel bed trying your very hardest.

The team all woke up at 7 o'clock and headed down for breakfast, you went with them but kept to yourself, sitting by yourself.

You weren’t hungry, more emotionally starved than anything.

You got a few wayward glances, but you ignored them, opting for scrolling through your phone and trying to put yourself in the right headspace to get you ready for the hellish day that was to come.

It was a 12pm game so as soon as breakfast was done the whole team was being sent to the bus to Camp Nou.

It was a bittersweet feeling, returning to a place that had so many incredibly positive memories for you, with a completely different group of people, people that you liked but you didn’t love.

Your anxiety only rose as you got even closer to the stadium, the realisation of what was about to happen setting in for you.

Stepping off the bus and into the stadium was weird, normally, it would be with your closest friends, Ale by your side as the two of you stepped foot into a place that had been the highlight of so many of your childhood dreams.

Barca had always been the dream, when the two of you were little kids it had seemed unachievable, a mere figment of your imaginations, and then it had come true, but it wasn’t your life anymore.

You kept your head down, speed walking into the change rooms and getting into your game kit as quickly as possible before walking out on the pitch to warm up by yourself.

Instead of being met with an empty pitch, you were met with a lot of your ex teammates already out warming up, and your girlfriends as well as your closest friends loitering by the sidelines.

It’s impossible to avoid them, they’re standing directly in front of the entrance to the pitch, you wouldn’t put it past Alexia or Lucy to have planned it, planned a little sneak attack on you pre-match.

You dragged your feet up and out of the tunnel, loitering a little bit as you waited for one of the women to take notice of you.

It didn’t take long, Ingrid being the first one to spot you, her big green Norwegian eyes lighting up when they landed on you, her arms lighting up almost immediately, a small squeal leaving her lips.

The whole group was quick to turn to you, both Alexia and Lucy’s faces lighting up as they took you in.

“Bebita!”

Alexia looked insane for an injured person, the Barca olympic t-shirt and leather jacket hugging her body perfectly and making her look absolutely drop dead gorgeous.

Alexia’s big arms opened to you, and you allowed yourself the luxury of walking into them.

You felt so safe, so at home, it made you sort of sick to your stomach, so much so that you forced yourself out of her arms.

You knew it was only going to be harder the more you integrated yourself with them over the next few days, because it would only make leaving that much harder.

Alexia frowned a little bit at the way you almost pushed her off of you, it hurt the Catalan woman more than she would ever admit.

“You oldies ready to get your asses kicked?”

Mapi’s jaw dropped, her arms reaching for you to put you into a headlock, the only thing stopping her being Ingrid.

“Oldies? Disculpe? It’s called being experienced.”

You smiled a little bit at Mapi, she was like your older sister, the closest you had to one.

“Sounds like an excuse for being old.”

Mapi just rolled her eyes at you, her arms opening up for a hug and you allowing her to.

“It’s good to see you, nena.”

Mapi lets you go fairly quickly, letting you take a step back from the group.

“It’s good to see you all as well, I’ve missed you guys.”

It was murmured under your breath, the loudest you could vocalise without the words hitting you across the chest.

“We’re going to have to put a stop to your scoring fun tonight I think, 4 braces in a row? Can’t let you get too big for you… what is it the English say? Pants?”

Ingrid rolled her eyes at her girlfriend and her lack of knowledge for English idioms.

“Britches, but we get your point.”

Mapi nodded, a little sparkle in her eye.

“Yes, well, me and Lucia will have to work hard to keep your magical feet at bay.”

You laughed humorously, entertaining María.

“I guess we’ll have to see, you oldies should get to warming up, don’t want to harm those old bones.”

Alexia hit you across the shoulder, rolling her eyes at you before bringing you into a brief hug and then pushing you towards your half of the pitch, where a few of your teammates were already warming up.

You went through the motions, all of it blurring in your mind as your eyes glazed over the iconic Barcelona stadium, this was once your home, it was the pinnacle of your career, not today though.

Walkingout of the tunnel, and onto the pitch, a crowd full of blue, red and yellow, normally would be the adrenaline hit of a lifetime, enough for you to walk up mount everest, but not today, today it did nothing but make you weak at the knees and sick to your stomach.

You did your best to avoid your former teammates' eyes as you shook hands before taking your starting positions.

Mapi was marking you, which wasn’t abnormal for when you were in training, but dealing with it during a game was a whole different playing field.

She was one of the best centre backs in the game, you knew this, the crowd knew it.

You were faster though, more agile, quicker on your toes.

That was your advantage, that was what you had to use against her, and you planned to do so.

The first thirty minutes saw no shot opportunities for you, Salma and Aitana both managed to slot in their own goals though, leaving Real Madrid and yourself with big room for improvement.

You put your head down, focused on what you knew you could do, waiting for the opportunity to come, and it finally did in the form of a beautiful cross from Olga that was sent directly to your head and then into the back of the net.

Your team went wild, you were shocked, completely gobsmacked at how the ball managed to somehow slot itself into the corners of the goal, you didn’t have time to wonder though, your whole team engulfed you in a big hug.

You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, the crowd booing you as your teammates pushed you back to your position gutted you, never in your life would you have expected to be booed after scoring, but here you were, standing in the stadium of your childhood dreams with a crowd booing at you.

It was then, in that very moment, that everything sort of set in for you, and as Barca kicked off you couldn’t help but find yourself stuck in position, your studs dug into the turf as you willed your legs to move.

All you could do was sit and watch the ball moving on the other side of the pitch, the blood was rushing to your ears, deafening you of the booing and making you feel like you were in a fishbowl.

You felt like a spectator, a external part of your body.

It was only when the ball was being sent your way, in the form of a pass from Bruun that you finally found yourself being able to move, your legs darting towards the ball as you searched for someone in the box, finding Raso and sending the ball soaring towards her before Mapi had the chance to land a tackle against you.

It was bread and butter, a simple pass, one that you could make in your sleep.

For whatever reason though, it came off your boot completely wrong, not making the distance nor going remotely anywhere near Hayley.

You growled in frustration, cursing under your breath as Lucy of all people took possession of the ball and sent it flying as far down the field as her bott could muster.

Ras sent you a worrying glance, a silent question of what happened, all you could do was shrug and wonder to yourself what was happening? Why was this happening?

You hardly made it to half time, your body just managing to hold itself up long enough to trudge back into the tunnel and down into the Real change rooms, where Alberto was already getting into his half time pep talk.

You accepted a gatorade and protein bar from one of the trainers, focusing all of your energy on sustaining yourself instead of paying attention.

You weren’t trying to be respectful, but today, everything was harder than normal, thinking, breathing, moving, living.

You weren’t sure why, you were fairly sure you didn’t really want to know why, you just knew that today of all days just wasn’t yours, and it made you hate every single part of yourself.

By the time half time was over and you were making your way back onto the field, your head was somewhere else entirely, everything from the past few weeks playing on repeat in your head.

You weren’t in the headspace to be doing anything at all, let alone play out a match of football, but it wasn’t like you had a choice.

It was clear Mapi had picked up on your inattentiveness, her eyebrows furrowed in concern as the both of you tried to watch the ball moving on the other side of the pitch.

She didn’t push you, she knew better than to, knew from experience that when you got pissed off on the pitch it was a ticking time clock.

The ball didn’t end up anywhere near your feet until the 80 minute mark, Barca’s midfield managing to stop any attempts at getting the ball into your third.

It was aggravating, but you were also grateful, because the longer the ball was away from your feet the further your mind began to drift to places you didn’t trust.

What happened when the game ended?

When you had to go home to Alexia and Lucy and act like all was fine, be their perfect good girl, be whatever they needed or wanted.

The ball finally made it to your feet, just above the right corner of the penalty box, before you could even look at the goals though, Mapi was edging her feet towards the ball, sending you towards the corner between the baseline and sideline, managing to boot the ball out of bounds.

You groaned as everybody set up for a corner, slotting yourself into the goals, watching as Robles set up to take the kick, she was searching for you, nestled between Mapi, Sandra and Pina.

Pina was tugging on your shirt, slowly teetering your off balance and forcing your further forwards then you’d like, closer to the goalpost as every second passed.

You heard the sound of the ball connecting with Robles foot, all you could do was jump and send your body forward to where the ball was supposed to be heading.

You closed your eyes and prayed.

All you felt was an initial contact, it lasted a second at most, the usual length of a header.

Then you felt your body continuing to propel forwards, and then there was secondary contact.

This time it was more blunt, harder, more painful, lasting longer, then there was your body thudding against the pitch, your face going down straight into the grass.

For a few seconds, it was just pure pain, ringing ears, your brain completely unable to process anything more than that.

It wasn’t until somebody rolled you over and the bright light from the sun started to try and penetrate your eyeballs.

“Y/n, Y/n, can you hear me?”

You flinched away from the hand that was dusting the turf off of your face, pushing yourself away from whoever was trying to touch you.

There were more hands though, on your neck and head, preventing you from moving anywhere at all.

This stressed you out, your ears were still ringing, your head swarming as you tried to focus on the faces hovering above yours.

“Y/n, keep still, you hit your head pretty hard, nena.”

It’s Mapi’s voice, extra soft and gentle, her head peeking over yours as she pats your hair out of your eyes and the turf off of your face.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.”

The other people holding your head didn’t give up, holding you still even as you tried to move.

“Nena, stay, the medics need to check your neck out.”

María’s voice is a little bit sterner, enough for you to let out an annoyed sigh but relax, no longer thrashing against the hands holding your neck and head.

“Where’s Ale and Luce?”

Your voice is meek and questioning, a little whisper.

“Lucia is standing a few feet away, Ale is on the sidelines, they’re here for you nena, do you want them?”

Of course you did, they were all you wanted right now, but for whatever reason you shook your head.

“No, no, no.”

Mapi looked half hurt by your answer, but she didn’t question it.

“Okay, that’s okay nena, the medics are almost here okay, just stay calm for me.”

Just as the words left María’s mouth a crew of medics were at your side.

“Hola, how’s your neck and head feeling? You’ve got a nice shiner on your forehead.”

You nodded at the medic, allowing a small smile to fall across your lips.

“Neck is fine, a little bit stiff, head’s throbbing but it’s fine.”

You knew subconsciously that all of the sub windows for Real had been used, that if you were to leave the pitch your team would be down to ten, and that simply wasn’t an option.

Barca might have been up by three goals, but there was a part of you that believed that you maybe still had a chance.

“Okay, well we’re just going to check your neck to be safe, then we’ll concussion test you, sí?”

You shook your head.

“I’m fine, seriously, it was only a little hit. My head doesn’t even hurt.”

That was a lie, your forehead was throbbing so bad that you were struggling to make out different colours, but there was no way you’d admit that to the team doctor, not if you had any hopes of playing out this match and the ones to come in the next few weeks.

“Small hit? Your head practically hugged the post.”

That explained the secondary hit.

“I feel fine, seriously.”

You were doing a piss poor job at trying to be convincing, you knew it, you were fairly sure the medics knew it.

“We have to clear your c-spine and head for concussion, it’s not up for discussion.”

Your body involuntarily slumped into the turf, as Mapi and whoever else was holding your head moved out of the way for the medics to continue their assessment of you.

Flash lights shone in your eyes, and your head was tossed in every which way as they assured you that your neck and spine seemed to be intact.

Once your neck had been checked they allowed you to sit up, painkillers and a drink bottle being forced into your hand.

“You’ve got a concussion, I’m not sure what stage, you need imaging and a proper examination inside the medical room, you need to come off.”

You shook your head, this was the El Clasico, this was the pinnacle of your season, you weren’t coming off for some collision with a pole.

“We’re three goals down, I’m not coming off.”

The medic furrowed her brow at you.

“Two actually, you somehow managed to put the ball in the back of the net, you need to come off.”

Again, you shook your head in complete refusal.

“Is there a sub window left?”

Your medic bit down on her lip and shook her head, after that your mind was completely made up.

“So, I’m not going off to leave my team with ten, I’m playing out the next five minutes and stoppage time, I will deal with the repercussions, when we get back to Madrid.”

You didn’t wait for permission, pushed yourself off of the ground, shoving the water bottle into the trainers hands and righting your uniform.

“Y/n, you need to come off.”

You once again shook your head, sending a thumbs up to the umpire, telling her that you were fine to continue.

You went back to your position, getting as far away from the yelling from your team doctor.

Mapi was on your mark, a very concerned look across her face.

As you took your position beside her, she leant down to whisper in your ear.

“You should be getting checked out.”

You gritted your teeth, you were so sick of everybody telling you what you were supposed to be doing, what you were supposed to be feeling, it was your call to make, nobody else's.

“I’m fine.”

The ball kicked off, the sound of the umpires whistle had stars darting across your vision, all of the background noise from the stadium made the pounding in your skull so much worse.

“That’s bullshit.”

You ran away from María before she had any more of a chance to give her opinion on your current predicament.

The five minutes were hell, your body was tearing at every seam, the throbbing pain in your head was making it hard for you to breathe, impossible to try and focus on the people around you and where the ball was on the field.

Mapi was practically dragging you around the field, her hand hovering on your jersey as she directed you around for the last couple of minutes of stoppage time.

When the final whistle blew, you practically collapsed against your best friend.

“Hey chica, let’s get you off the pitch, yeah?”

You couldn’t do much more than nod into Mapi’s jersey, allowing her to drag you over to a sideline and into the arms of somebody else, who helped to pull you down into the tunnel and into your locker rooms.

The Real locker rooms were very quiet, everybody was too bothered in tugging their cleats and kit off as quickly as possible to pay any attention to you, something you were fiercely grateful for.

You took your time tugging off your uniform, your body slowed down by the blindingly searing headache that was penetrating your head.

Most of the girls decided against showering in the rooms, there were showers at the hotels and there was an obvious overshadowing feeling that the quicker the girls could leave the stadium, the better.

You however, were in no rush to leave, so you clawed off your sweaty kit, flinging it into your cubby and then heading towards the showers.

The hot water against your battered and bruised skin was beautifully painful, it made you feel cleaner, sure your head was pounding but this was like some kind of refuge, at least until Alexia and Lucy came to find you, as soon as that happened you knew you were going to have to put up with two extremely doting and overly-concerned girlfriends.

You weren’t ready for that, you weren’t ready for the two of them to act like they cared for you, to love you so much for two days all for you to have to leave them once again.

You couldn’t do it, you couldn’t take up all that love and space all for it to be ripped away, leaving for national camp was hard enough, at least when that happened there was a guarantee you’d see the both of them after it was done.

You wanted to enjoy their company, how you loved to the most, good, rough, reunion sex. You wanted the two of them to treat you like you were an object, like nothing to them, because that’s how you felt, you felt like just an accessory to their relationship.

Which was kind of ironic to you, because the relationship had started with just you and Ale, the two of you against the whole world, it was great. Adding Lucy to the equation had been fantastic, she was the missing puzzle piece to every single part of you and Ale’s relationship.

It just made being apart from the both of them that bit harder when they got to fall into bed with each other every night whilst you were left all alone in your apartment.

When the boiling water stopped making your skin crawl you stepped out of the shower, drying yourself off procedurally before walking into the empty away rooms and getting yourself changed into a matching plain grey sweatsuit.

It was neutral, you weren’t going to go home with your Barcelona girlfriends fully kitted in Real hear, but you also didn’t feel up to wearing some of Alexia and Lucy’s clothes, it would break you down well before you were ready for it too.

Once you were done getting changed you collected up your gear, finally ready to go see Lucy and Alexia, but you were stopped in the doorway by your favourite team doctor.

“You need scans, and a proper examination.”

You knew theoretically she was right, you did need scans, to make sure that there were no brain bleeds or a significant traumatic injury, but you really didn’t want to either.

“I’m fine, a big bruise and a concussion but apart from that I’m fine.”

You’d tried your very hardest to cover up the bruise, but it was hopeless. There was a big, red, slowly forming bruise down the left side of your face where you’d made contact with the pole.

You were honestly unsure so far as to whether your cheek bone or eye socket were broken, they sure felt like they were but you figured at least it wasn’t your nose. You’d dealt with a broken nose and it was probably up there on the list of one of the worst injuries you’d ever dealt with in terms of practicality.

“You know just as well as I do that you can’t be cleared to leave without an examination.”

You rolled your eyes, an action that hurt a lot more than it probably should have.

“Maya, c’mon, it’s my few days off, as soon as I’m back in Madrid you can assess me every way you want, but just let me rest for now.”

She didn’t move from the doorway, her stare beating down on you.

“You’re going to stay with Putellas, sí?”

You nodded your head, trying to hurry the conversation along.

“I want to speak to her, if you’re going to refuse medical care then the person who you’ll be in company with needs to be aware of the complications that could occur.”

That was almost enough to convince you to get the examination, Alexia was hell when she was aware you were injured, she’d probably make you get the scans and exam.

“I’ll tell her, it’s not that big of a deal, we both know concussion protocol.”

You were really hoping she’d believe you, but you knew as soon as you saw the look on her face that she could see straight through the lie.

“If it’s not that big of a deal then you’ll let me accompany you to the Barca rooms and talk to your girlfriend.”

You couldn’t be bothered with the fight, so you just nodded your head, pushing your way through the door and navigating yourself with ease to the home changerooms.

They were rooms that you were familiar with, you knew Camp Nou like that back of your hand, it was probably your favourite place on earth.

The atmosphere, the history, everything that resonated in Camp Nou was magical.

You hesitated before pushing your way through the locker room door, pushing out all of the doubt in your mind when a Rosaliá song hit your ears and the sound of tone deaf singing rang out.

It was a beautiful sight, watching your ex teammates celebrate a well deserved win, dancing, drinking, singing, it was the magic of the El Clasicó.

It hurt your head, but it still managed to put a little smile on your face, you shrunk into the doorway, observing the utter excitement and happiness on all of the girls' faces.

Ingrid was the first to realise you’d joined them all, and before you could even really smile at her she was walking towards you with open arms and wrapping you up in her embrace.

It was nice, homey, she smelt like sweat, grass clippings and oranges.

“Hola bebita, how are you feeling?”

Ingrid was probably the best person for you to have initially run into, she was soft and kind and possibly one of the most empathetic and caring people you’d ever met.

“I’m okay, I miss you guys more than anything.”

Ingrid pulled you out of her arms, only to lean down and press a little chaste kiss to your forehead before wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“You know we will always be your home, and you’ll be back soon enough, this Real thing isn’t for forever, you’ll be back with all of us soon enough.”

Soon enough couldn’t come quicker for you, you quite literally were counting down the days before you were finally back in blaugrana.

“Yes, well I suppose that is the positive.”

Ingrid nodded at you, a big smile on her face as the both of you watched the group of girls.

“Ale had to go and deal with some press conference things, Lucy should be just finishing up in the showers if you're ready to go. I know the two of them were eager to head home as soon as you showed up.”

You smiled a little bit and nodded, as fun as the celebrations that you knew would come tonight sounded, you definitely weren’t feeling up to it at the minute.

“That’s fine, I’ll just wait around until they’re done.”

Ingrid nodded, giving you another smile.

“You’re welcome to sit wherever you’d like, would you like an ice pack for your face?”

You snorted, looking back at Maya, who already had one in her hands.

“I think we’re all good on the ice situation here, Maya is hell bent on talking to one of my carers, so she’ll be waiting around with me for now.”

Ingrid looked behind you to wave and flash another smile at your doctor.

“Good, someone needs to look after you, because we all know that you won’t be doing it. Here’s Lucia now, you won’t have to wait long.”

Your eyes locked onto your girlfriend, who had emerged from the showers, her hair damp on her shoulders. She was dressed in pj pants of all things and one of Alexia’s vintage Barca hoodies.

Her knee was strapped up and already had an icepack secured to it, something that was routine for Lucy after any game.

“Lucia, your girl is here for you.”

It was the loud and painful voice of Patri that made you roll your eyes, but sure enough it managed to get ahold of Lucy’s attention, her head rising from her phone and searching for you until she located you in the doorway of the rooms.

Immediately her face lit up, and she was running towards you as quickly as she could with one of her legs so restricted.

“Nina Bonita!”

Before you could say anything her arms were wrapping around you, bringing you to her chest as she cradled you gently into her.

“You were magnifico, mi amor, how’s the head?”

You roll your eyes painfully once again at the concern.

“It’s okay, nothing that some chill time with my favourite girls won’t fix.”

Lucy smirks at you, a big wide grin like the cheshire cat.

“Well, I think me and Ale are more than happy to amor, but let’s not forget you’ve been misbehaving the last few weeks.”

This was good, this was normal, this wasn’t life being overshadowed by pity.

“Y/n, I need to talk to a caregiver.”

You were brought out of your happy bubble by the sound of your medic.

You swivelled on you heel, pinching your face when the rotation hit you and you began to be a little bit dizzy.

“Lucy, Maya, Maya, Lucy, this is our team doctor, she wants to chat to you about my head injury, which is not major at all, I feel fine.”

Lucy’s face expression changed into something less recognisable, a mixture of concern and something else.

“Well if it concerns your health then it’s best we have a chat. How about we talk outside then, stay with Ingrid, we’ll be just a minute and once we’re done we can head home little one.”

Lucy patted you on the back, giving you absolutely zero opportunity to argue before she was exiting the change rooms, taking Maya with her.

It made you frown, but before you could follow them out one of Ingrid’s arms was wrapped around you, followed by Mapi’s, essentially sandwiching you between the couple.

“Hola, how’s your head, nena, I was worried for a good second, I’m surprised they didn’t veto you on the head injury rule to get you off the pitch.”

Mapi’s voice was a whisper, hard to pick up in the room of cacophonous sound, but you heard it.

“It’s sore, but I’ll be okay.”

Mapi whispered directly into your ear, to avoid Ingrid.

“You’re always okay, nena, that’s the problem, it’s eating you up, before you know everything inside you will be gone.”

You tried your best to keep a straight face, it was hard though when what Mapi was saying to you was making you tremble.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about María.”

She was relentless as always, she was like an annoying younger sister to you, always prodding, even if she was technically older than you.

“I’ve been where you are, before Ingrid, when I was spiralling, you know it, you saw it all, and now I’m seeing it in you. Telling you from personal experience, hiding from your loved ones only gets you so far, and worrying them only makes it that much worse. Pretending and lying, it only makes everything worse.”

It hurts, because it’s true, but you keep a straight face, determined not to give into Mapi’s games.

“María, now you’ve actually got no idea what you are talking about.”

Mapi pulls you from Ingrid, who seems a little bit confused but lets it go.

Mapi pushes you up against the wall gently, right beside the door, her hands pushing on your shoulders to keep you where she's put you.

“You might be right, I don’t know exactly what’s happening in your life. But I’ve seen the look in your eyes, whatever is going through your head, whatever thoughts your having out there in Madrid, if they aren’t getting back to Ale, then you know you’ll be in trouble, so get your head out of your ass and start to talk about your feelings instead of shoving them down your throat until you are choking on them. That cowboy shit you pulled today to put that ball in the net was stupid, you were asking for a hospital trip, you are lucky you didn’t get stretchered off the pitch, so count your lucky stars because if there is a next time I can guarantee you it will be a far worse outcome.”

Mapi released you from the wall, just in time for the door next to you to open up and Lucy to return inside the rooms.

“Have you got all your things?”

Lucy’s face was pointed and pinched, and slightly scary. You nodded at her quickly.

“Wait outside for me, I need to grab my bag.”

It was the kind of voice that Alexia used on you, the mommyish anger that she used when you’d done something to piss her off.

So, knowing what the most likely consequence of disobeying Lucy would be, you just nodded your head, stepping out of the rooms and finding solace in the silence that hit your ears.

It made your head hurt far less, the silence highly appreciated inside your brain.

Lucy took maybe 30 seconds, before she emerged from the rooms, the same solemn look on her face.

“Let’s go y/n.”

Lucy didn’t refer to you by your name, it was always a variation of some pet name, it burnt you in a way.

Lucy didn’t wait for you, she marched forward, straight towards the staff car park.

You struggled to keep up, your sore bones lacking the strength to keep up with her, but you managed well enough.

When you made it to Lucy’s car she was already seated in the driver's seat, leaving you to sling your bag in the backseat before sliding into the passenger's seat.

Lucy stayed silent until the two of you had pulled out onto the main road, until you made it to a red light, and then she was turning to you.

“You didn’t get examined, or scans, we should be going to a hospital, can you imagine what Alexia would say if she knew?”

You’d known this was inevitably coming, you’d just expected it to come from Alexia, not Lucy.

“Please, don’t tell Ale, she’s mad enough as it is, I feel fine, if I wasn’t one hundred percent sure that it was just a minor concussion I would get the mri or whatever, but they take hours, and then hours to get the result, all I wanted was too come home to you and Ale as soon as possible, I miss you guys.”

Lucy took a deep breath, this situation was no different to all the other times you’d had to convince her to join in on your plans to disobey Alexia.

“You put yourself in danger, Ale would be furious.”

It’s a deliberation, like Lucy is trying to weigh up the pros and cons in her mind.

“Exactly, she would be furious, which will do nothing, I’ve already made the decision, if anything feels wrong I’ll let you know, but I feel fine Luce, all I want to do is get what I’m owed from my girlfriends and enjoy you guys’ company whilst I can.”

You know Lucy’s folded when she sighs, her eyes coming off of the road once again, the orbs softening towards you.

“Alexia’s furious, those little videos and photos have got you deep in the shit, the only thing that’s saving you from that is admitting you're injured. You might be good enough to pretend with me but I know that head of yours can’t handle what she’s ready to give you.”

You knew that Lucy was right, it was one or the other with Alexia.

“I’m not weak, I knew what I was doing, I can deal with the consequences.”

Your words are said with gritted teeth and furrowed brows.

“You're a determined little brat aren’t you, if I didn’t know you well I’d think you were fine, but you aren’t, if you were fine you wouldn’t be acting out at every opportunity you could.”

The underlying message is that Lucy isn’t just talking about your injury, which makes you annoyed, because you’d been trying so hard to mask it with defiance and cheekiness, but Lucy’s seen through it, which most likely means that Ale has as well.

“Can’t you just punish me without all the feelings and shit.”

You’re asking for a reprieve, for a break from all of the concern, all you want is to fall into the arms of your girlfriends without any feelings.

“I would love to, but that’s Ale’s job, I just get to sit back and enjoy the show.”

You bite your lip, turning to look out the window as you slowly crawl closer to your girlfriend's shared house, previously it was yours as well, but not anymore.

“Where is Ale anyways, didn’t you drive together?”

It’s a deflection, one you are fairly proud of.

“She had some media commitments, she should be home by the time we get there, we drove in by ourselves for convenience.”

It’s said just as you pull into the driveway to see Alexia’s car already parked in front of the house.

Lucy stops the car, but she doesn’t pull the keys out immediately, just turning off the ignition.

“Take a breath.”

You nod at Lucy, eyes wide as you take a forced breath.

“Alexia and I love you, when you are away we miss you more than anything, it’s not the same without you around. If you are feeling like shit because you are injured we want to know, and we won’t be mad at you, I know for a fact that Alexia will be far angrier if you lie to her about it.”

You nodded briefly, trying to absorb Lucy’s words before you opened the car door and grabbed your bag from the backseat.

When you made it to the front door you hesitated before opening it up, leaving Lucy to lock it behind you.

You toed your shoes off, stacking them on the rack that Alexia had put at the front door to prevent the mess of shoes that normally accumulated around the apartment.

You walked slowly down the hallway, into the kitchen, where you found Alexia hunched over the island, looking intently at her phone.

“Hola.”

Your voice is soft, you don’t want to break the sound barrier but you feel like you have to.

Alexia looks up and her facial expression scares you a little bit, it’s stern, but you aren’t quite sure what she’s mad about.

“Come here.”

You bite down on your lip, walking towards Alexia tentatively until you are directly in front of her.

Her hands go straight to your face, pointing your jaw downwards so she can take a proper look at the damage across your face.

“You were looking to break your neck on that corner, estúpida.”

Alexia continues her close up examination, studying the bruising and swelling.

“How bad is it, don’t you dare lie to me.”

Alexia’s face is so stern, it almost scares you into admitting just how horrible you feel, but you can’t, you just can’t.

“It’s sore, but I feel fine, it’ll bruise up a treat but it’s not that bad.”

You pray to whatever god that is listening that Alexia believes you.

“You feel good enough to take your punishment then?”

There’s something in Alexia’s eyes that you aren’t used to, it makes you a little bit tentative.

“Yes ma’am.”

Alexia’s eyebrow raises, it’s like a dance between the two of you, the both of you waiting to call each other's bluff.

“You’ve been misbehaving, sí, I think you’re well overdue, bend over the table for me.”

You force yourself to take a deep breath, it’s unlike Alexia to be so harsh, to be so forward, especially considering that you’ve been gone for so long.

You look back at Lucy, a little bit of hope in your eyes that she’ll save you with some weak excuse.

“Ale, I don’t know if that’s a good id-.”

Alexia sent a glare Lucy’s way, her hand pressing itself against your lower back to push you over the table.

“She says she’s fine, if she wasn’t fine then she’d tell me, right bebita, because we trust each other. We don’t lie to each other.”

Suddenly you feel a wave of guilt deep in your stomach, Alexia knows you’ve lied to her, that’s why she’s mad.

“Lucia, go and get my belt for me, the thick brown one.”

You blink a few times, unsure if you’ve heard Alexia right, you’ve played around with a belt once or twice, but it’s not something that Alexia regularly punishes you with, more something for a little bit of funishment, a few lashes here and there but nothing truly painful.

“Alexia-.”

Alexia must give Lucy another look because she stops mid sentence once again.

“Lucia, don’t make me ask again, or else you’ll be joining her.”

Then there's the sound of footsteps going down the hallway, into the main bedroom, rustling around for ten seconds and then returning.

You flinch when you hear the sound of Alexia tossing a belt in her hands, the sound of the buckle clinking against the leather.

She reaches for the hem of your sweatpants, you flinch away from her touch, she doesn’t question it, making quick work of tugging down your pants, leaving you butt naked.

You shiver from the sudden feeling of cold air brushing down against your skin.

You hear Alexia fold the belt in two, your senses heightened weirdly from the headache across your temple.

Then you hear her raise the leather, and suddenly you realise you can’t breathe.

Just as you hear the sound of leather slicing through the air you realise that you can’t do it, you can’t do this.

“Red-fuck-red.”

The words are choken between gasps for air and sobs, your body going limp against the counter.

It’s then that you realise the pain, the feeling, it never comes, the feeling of the belt connecting with your ass never comes, which makes you even more confused.

“Lucia, bath, now.”

There is urgency in Alexia’s voice, a discomposure that wasn’t there previously.

Alexia’s hand falls to the lowest point of your back, her other one tugging your sweatpants up.

“Deep breaths for me nina bonita, big deep breaths.”

Alexia gently flips you over, her face so much kinder and softer than it was a few minutes ago.

“You-You didn’t hit me, you didn’t punish me.”

Alexia rolls her eyes softly, it’s just like you to be completely stressed out about something that doesn’t really matter that much really.

“I didn’t need to. You safeworded, which I’m very proud of you for doing, because you weren’t feeling up to it, I just needed to remind you that it’s okay to admit that, you don’t have to be brave all the time, especially when you are injured, now, it’s time to get you into the bath and bed, no screens or lights for you, you’re on concussion protocol for the next few weeks, which means that if I can have it my way you’ll be staying with us for a little bit longer, how does that sound?”

You force yourself to take some deep breaths to calm yourself, you're still crying but the gut wrenching sobs have come to a more steady halt.

“Don’t want to be a bother, you guys need a break from me.”

Alexia looks at you with hurt in her eyes.

“A bother? Bonita, you are the glue for this whole situation. We need you here, more than anything, we’ve been broken without you here, if I had it my way you would have been on a train home weeks ago, but Jonatan is being an asshole, that cábron will thankfully be gone next year, so at least you’ll be coming home without having to bother with that, hm?”

You don’t really understand what Alexia is saying, suddenly your head is hurting too much for anything to really make sense.

Alexia seems to understand it, because she leans down to pick you up, you attach yourself to her, koala wrapping yourself around her body, leaning into the warmth that she provides.

“I’ve got you bonita, not letting go for a long time, you need Lucia and I to remind you just how much we love you, and we’ll spend the next few weeks doing just that okay, no more hiding behind facetime calls and text messages anymore, we’re here for all of it.”

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guess-my-next-obsession · 2 years

Text

Peña’s Anatomy: Chapter Eleven

pairing: doctor au!javier peña x resident!reader

chapter rating: E (mentions of cunnilingus, oral sex m!rec, mentions of anxiety disorder/depression/therapy, past violence, one mention of SA just to be safe, lots of fluff with a bit of outside angst woven in) ?? these warnings are all over the place i’m sorry just go with the flow 🙃

word count: 8.8k

series masterlist

“Well, good afternoon, doctor. You look well rested.” Javier bumped his shoulder against yours as he snuck up from behind you, giving you a smirk as you stood at the nurses station working on your charts. You gave him a playful eye roll and chuckle as he leaned against the counter beside you, eyes following your pen as you scribbled in your notes.

“Can I help you with anything, Dr. Peña?” You spoke through your smile, keeping your eyes down on the paper.

“I can think of a few things,” he spoke quietly, just for you to hear. “But I guess we can save that for later. When you sleep over tonight.”

“Oh, I’m sleeping over?” You set your pen down and finally looked at him, biting your lip at the way his brown eyes bore into yours, that charming smile on his face to assure you agreed to his plan. “Fine. Can’t say no to that face.”

“As if you even wanted to.” He nudged you again, eyes lowering to your lips for a moment. Looking around the halls before leaning in, he whispered in your ear. “Don’t you want me to continue what I started this morning?”

“Mm, gonna need a reminder.” You feigned cluelessness and tapped the pen against your chin, Javier shaking his head at you.

“You’re being a tease today,” he scolded playfully, swiping over his bottom lip with his tongue. “You don’t remember my face between your legs? You don’t remember the way I made you shake? The way I worked you up only to make you beg me to let you cum.”

“Javi,” you scolded in a fluster, looking around to see if there was anyone listening in on the filth leaving his lips.

“What? You’re the one who needed a reminder.” He leaned over, his hand on your upper back as he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, leaving his lips by the shell of your ear to whisper again. “I can’t wait to taste you again, bebita.”

“Doctors,” the Chief walked up behind the two of you, Javier pulling away casually while you jumped into action, resuming your work on the charts.

“Chief,” Javier replied with a smirk, seemingly amused by your fluster.

“Relax, doctor. No one’s breaking any rules anymore.” You turned around and gave him a polite smile and nod, still a bit nervous about his opinion of you after all this. “Hey Javi, are we still on tonight for poker?”

“Oh, right.” He glanced over at you, receiving only a shrug and an encouraging smile—you weren’t about to ask him to cancel on the Chief of Surgery just to eat you out. “Uh, I don’t know, I’m pretty tired already.”

“Oh, come on! Since when do you skip out on poker night?” You watched him rub his chin nervously, his eyes flickering to yours as though to ask your permission.

“Go have fun, Jav.” You chimed in, earning a chuckle from the Chief.

“Didn’t know you needed permission, Javi.” You turned back to your charts, not wanting the Chief to see your irritated reaction to his mildly misogynistic statement.

“It’s not about permission, it’s about communication.” He snapped for you, a smile growing on your face as you continued to write. “And you know what? I’m going to pass on tonight.”

“Suit yourself.” You didn’t need to see it to know that the Chief’s eyes were on the back of your head as he left the two of you alone, a sigh of relief leaving your lips once it was just the two of you again.

“Sorry about that,” Javier nudged you, a shrug and half-frown on your face as you turned to him.

“It’s whatever.”

“No, it’s not whatever. He was being a dick.”

“Fine, he was being a dick.” You agreed with a soft chuckle, still worried that the Chief would somehow overhear your insult.

“You’ve got an authority thing, don’t you?” He asked with an amused smirk, taking a granola bar out of his white coat and peeling the wrapper open before taking a bite. You rolled your eyes and stole it from him, Javier’s cheek dimpling at the playful act.

“As in I care about my job? Sure.”

“As in you’d cry if he scolded you.” He retorted with that same smile, stealing his granola bar back.

“Isn’t that the normal response?” He shook his head, chuckling a bit. “Well, we can’t all be cool and nonchalant like you, Dr. Peña.”

“That’s true, I have reached an unobtainable level of swagger.” You rolled your eyes and grabbed the remaining bit of the bar, popping it in your mouth before sassily closing the chart in front of you. With a flip of your hair, you started off towards the labs, Javier following you like a puppy.

“Don’t you have a surgery to get to?” You asked as you felt his unmistakable warmth looming over your shoulder.

“Not for an hour. Thought I’d shadow you for the day, make sure you’re doing okay on Steve’s service.” He nudged your side with his elbow, your eyes turning to his to take in his smirk. “Oh, just say you miss being on my service. I can make the switch happen.”

“Admit you miss me being on your service,” you challenged with an eyebrow raise as you reached the elevator, the two of you the only ones on it.

Javier pushed you backwards by your hips until your back hit the wall, smiling down as he leaned in to ghost his lips over yours.

“You know I miss you. Mickey is hardly a replacement for your company, cariño. She’s too hormonal. And I think she still hates me a little.” You giggled, your eyes studying him from up close before you leaned in to peck his lips. “That was hardly even a kiss. Gimme a real one.”

“Mm, maybe if you bring me a coffee.” You bargained, Javier taking what he wanted anyways. His lips pressed against yours in a sinfully slow drag, his hips pressing into you as you were sandwiched against the wall. You hummed at his dominance, hands sliding up the cotton of his coat, feeling the firm muscle of his chest beneath it.

“Want anything else from the cafe, mi amor?” He asked as he pulled away, the two of you wiping your lips as the elevator rang signaling your arrival.

“I wouldn’t say no to a muffin,” you shrugged and stepped out, Javier remaining inside to go down to the cafe.

“Alright, I’ll see you in a minute, beautiful.”

It had been three very happy months since your reconciliation with Javier, your ankle almost completely healed, your grieving heart slowly doing the same, your mind happy to be back at work doing what you loved.

After notifying the Chief of your relationship with your boss last month, he assigned you to Dr. Steve Murphy’s specialty, Ortho—which, you didn’t necessarily mind. Ortho was a hot spot for gnarly surgeries, and the more surgeries, the more likely you were to get to scrub in. And besides, Steve and his wife, Connie, had become good friends outside of work, so it was an easy time all around.

Still, you did miss the thrill of scrubbing in on a Neuro case—watching Javier work away with perfect precision. But for now, it was best to keep things a bit separated, and to test out different specialities that you never had the chance to work on before.

Your relationship with Javier couldn’t have been better. There were a few new boundaries the two of you set in place to ensure the other felt more secure in the relationship, of course. For example, Javier really valued being able to take you out on dates, bring you around his friends, and made you promise to be more open with him than perhaps you had been before. You didn’t mind any of this now, after all you’d gone through, it felt like an easier thing to do. Your trust for him had skyrocketed in the wake of all the tragedy, and you felt more at ease communicating your feelings than before.

Mickey was now very publicly pregnant, hobbling around the hospital with her growing bump and very temperamental mood swings. Her and Dr. Mann were giving it a go, the sight of them together being a difficult one to get used to considering that you could only see him as a dick—but she seemed happy.

It seemed that everywhere you looked, there was blossoming bits of happiness around you.

Even your relationship with Javier’s father, Chucho, had blossomed compared to the awkward first meeting. Just a few weeks ago, the two of you, accompanied by McCartney, went down to Laredo to celebrate Chucho’s sixtieth birthday.

“Pops,” Javier greeted his father as the two of you walked up to his doorstep, McCartney in tow. Chucho hugged his son tightly before turning to you, giving you a polite side hug.

“Happy birthday, Chucho.” You smiled at him, watching as a look of pleasant surprise washed over him at the shift in personality from when he first met you.

You didn’t blame him. When you first met him you were a completely different woman—closed off, anxious, full of reservations about your then-secret relationship. But now, you carried an openness to you that could surely only be attributed to Javier’s presence in your life.

“It’s nice to see you both after so long.” He walked the two of you inside, Javier taking the leash off McCartney while you followed his father into the dining room, sitting down in front of him. “I see you’re walking on your own now, mija. Is your ankle almost healed? The cast coming off soon?”

“Yeah, I just started being able to walk on it without my crutches. In a couple weeks, the cast will be off and I’ll just have a chunky boot to lug around the hospital all day, but it’s better than walking around with my walker like I have been—really makes me look less like a surgeon and more like a geriatric patient playing dress-up. And Javier has shown very little sympathy for me by giving me all his scut.” He chuckled and lifted his eyes to greet Javier as he came to sit down beside you.

“I’m giving you my scut because I don’t want you working yourself too hard, bebita. I’ve already had to stop her from taking McCartney on walks. She’s relentless.” Javier playfully scolded, shooting you a smirk as he spoke. “So, how’s it feel to be the big 6-0, pops?”

“Feels like my back hurts.” He joked and you let out a chuckle, seeing now where Javier got his sense of humor from. “I, uh, I do have some news to share.”

“Oh?” Javier furrowed his brows, both of you becoming increasingly interested by his bashful demeanor.

“I started…dating.” Javier raised an eyebrow and turned to glance at you for a moment with an unreadable expression before turning back to his father. “She goes to bingo, that’s how we met.”

Javier fell silent, your eyes now able to decipher that he wasn’t exactly thrilled about his father’s budding romance. You knew that for Javi, his mother was a saint. She was the closest thing to perfection he’d ever witnessed—something he confided to you about in the earliest stage of your relationship. No one could replace her, and although Chucho wasn’t trying to do that, you knew that Javier wouldn’t see it that way.

“That’s really sweet, Chucho. Tell me about her. What’s she like?” You rested your hand on Javier’s knee and rubbed it, Javier’s hand leaving the table to rest on top of it.

“Well, I think Javi knows her, actually.” His hand on yours squeezed a bit. “She taught at the high school. Math, I think.”

“Mrs. Montoya?” He asked in disbelief, scoffing to himself and shaking his head. “She almost failed me.”

“Mijo, her almost failing you doesn’t make her an evil woman.” Chucho almost laughed at his sons pout.

“I’m gonna go fix that broken gate.” Javier stood up and excused himself, patting his leg and whistling for McCartney to join him as he walked out through the back door.

You turned to his father, his face now riddled with disappointment. Giving him a slight frown, you shrugged.

“Javi’s just gonna need time, Chucho.” You watched as he nodded, his eyes still pointed down at the table. “I’m happy for you, really, I am. I think everybody deserves to find somebody, but Javi—he worships his mom. He just needs some time to realize that you’re not trying to replace her.”

“I invited her over for the barbecue tonight. You think he’s gonna make a scene?” Chucho finally met your stare, looking sad but hopeful.

“No.”

Truthfully you didn’t know if he would handle it well or not, but as long as you were around to scold him into place he certainly wouldn’t make a scene.

“Let me go talk to him. We’ll set up the tables and stuff, you just rest until the party.” You stood up, but so did he.

“I’ve got some groceries to pick up in town, I’ll just run and go do that.” He adjusted his belt buckle and fixed his hat. “And mija?”

You turned around before opening the back door.

“I’m glad he has you. I know I was worried when I first met you, but…the two of you really bring out the best in each other.” You smiled at his approval, giving him a nod before walking outside.

Autumn was supposed to be here, it was mid-September, back home it would already be freezing, but here in Texas it was still pushing 90 degrees everyday. The sun shone down on you as you wandered through the gravelly backyard and over to the green grass where Javier stood about a football field away.

McCartney was the first to spot you, running up to you with a couple happy barks, Javier’s eyes lifting from the hole he was digging. You gave him a sympathetic smile as you approached him, watching him wipe away the sweat that had accumulated on his forehead with the back of his hand.

“He’s dating,” Javier grumbled as you slipped your arms around his waist, hugging his sweaty body to yours. “My dad is dating.”

“It’s not a bad thing, baby,” you reminded. “Can you imagine how lonely he must be?”

“Yeah, but,” he sighed, looking down at you and pecking your lips quickly before speaking again. “But with my teacher? A teacher that hated my guts?”

“I’m sure he wasn’t thinking about your student-teacher relationship that ended twenty years ago when he asked her out, Jav.” He chuckled—something light, just enough to let you know he was listening. “She’s…coming tonight. To the barbecue.”

“Great.”

“Jav, be nice, okay? For me?” You asked with a bat of your eyelashes, Javier rolling his eyes and chuckling more genuinely.

“You’re supposed to support my asshole tendencies, bebita.” You giggled and shook your head, leaning up to press your lips against his in a sweet peck. “If he’s happy, I’ll try to be happy for him. But the minute she brings up old shit, I’m going full asshole.”

“Fine,” you chuckled again before stepping back, gesturing at the hole. “How can I help?”

“You can help by leaving me here to angrily dig this hole,” he reached to pinch your chin and you allowed it, giving him a smile. “Love you, Crutches.”

“Love you, Peña.”

That evening didn’t go as well as you or Chucho hoped. It turned out that Javier wasn’t making up the tension between him and Mrs. Montoya in his head—she seemed to hate him as much as he hated her.

So, in true Javier fashion, he gave her that ice cold Peña glare and had a comeback prepared for every single one of her quips. You didn’t really blame him for his attitude, you probably would’ve reacted the same if the only other woman you’d ever seen your father with was so clearly not a fan of you.

But while she and Javier didn’t get along in the slightest, her and Chucho couldn’t have been more giddy and loved up. In fact, Javier was the only person you witnessed her being snarky to at the party—even you got the friendly treatment.

Javier hadn’t been back to his father’s house since that night—the pair hadn’t even spoken, in fact—but you’d kept contact with Chucho for him, calling him up a couple times a week just to give him updates on his son.

“Alright, here’s your coffee and muffin, Crutches.” Javier found you waiting outside the lab, sitting down beside you and starting on his own snack.

“Hey, have you given any thought to us going down to Laredo? Maybe try patching things up with your dad and—“

“This is a good muffin,” he purposely interrupted you, earning an irritated glare. With a sigh, he rolled his eyes. “There’s nothing to patch up.”

“Oh, really? That’s why you’ve been avoiding his calls for two weeks?” You challenged with a raised eyebrow, your smirk growing as he avoided looking you in the eyes, shrugging at your questions. “C’mon, Jav. He misses you. Don’t make him have to choose between his son and his girlfriend, because you know he’s going to choose you.”

“I’m not making him choose shit.” He mumbled before taking a sip of his coffee. “That’s the whole point of me not speaking to him. He wants to have his own life? Good, more power to him. Doesn’t mean I have to sit there and pretend to support it.”

“Javier, I am asking you to please go see your father. Please.” You urged, watching as he sighed in defeat, reaching a hand over to squeeze your knee.

“That’s not fair,” he lovingly scolded while you smirked at your victory. “You know I can’t say no to you.”

“I know.” You grinned at him and he begrudgingly nodded.

“Fine, tomorrow we can drive down and have dinner, but if she starts something, we’re leaving.” You nodded in agreement to his terms. “Now, are you gonna eat that? Because if not—“

You handed half of the muffin over to him, earning a smile from the doctor.

“That’s why I keep you around, bebita.” He reached over and pulled you closer by your chin, pecking your lips before standing up. “Alright, gotta go get prepped for my surgery. I’ll see you in the lobby at six?”

“Have a good surgery, my love.” He shot you a wink over his shoulder as he walked down the hall, your eyes following him until he disappeared, a proud smirk on your face knowing that he was yours and now everybody knew it.

•••

Javier looked tired as he walked up to Lucky in the lobby of the surgical wing, his palm running over his face to try and wipe away his exhaustion. Lucky was sat in one of the waiting room chairs, a pile of papers in her lap, her brows furrowing as she focused on it.

“Hey,” he leaned down to kiss her forehead before plopping down into the seat beside her, plucking the paper from her hand. “Ortho procedures? You thinking of switching specialties?”

“Considering,” she shrugged and took the research paper back, adding it to the pile before snapping a couple rubber-bands around it to keep it together.

“What? Neuro no longer interesting?” He teased, standing up with her and throwing his arm across her shoulder as they walked out into the parking lot, the sun nearly set thanks to the changing seasons.

“Neuro will always be interesting, but it’s also not very practical for me to pursue now,” he looked down at her with a furrowed brow and frown, a soft chuckle slipping from her lips. “Everyone will just think I fucked my way to the top, Jav. Besides, Ortho is really interesting to me. So it’s the best of both worlds.”

“Still,” he sighed, reaching for the handle of the passenger door to his truck and helping you in. He waited until he was sat on the other side, turning the ignition and hearing the truck roar to life before speaking again. “Feel like it’s my fault that you don’t get to pursue what you’ve always wanted.”

“It’s not,” she shook her head and slid over to him, pinching his chin. “Besides, I still came out with something I always wanted.”

“What?”

“You.” He found himself blushing, looking away from her with a bashful smirk and chuckle. “Come on, let’s go home. I’m exhausted.”

“Me too,” he pressed his lips against her temple before backing out of the parking lot, her head leaning against his shoulder as they drove to her place first, Lucky running inside to pick up some clothes before quickly leaving—she didn’t like to be there for long anymore.

When she climbed back into the truck, he was resting his head on the steering wheel, almost asleep.

“Ugh, my ankle is aching,” she lamented, rubbing at the skin of her shin as though it would help ease the pain.

“I’ll check it out when we get back,” he spoke through a yawn, shaking his head and batting his eyes a few times as he pulled out of her apartment complex and headed over to the other side of town to his place—to their place. “Oh, forgot to tell you. My cousin is getting married next month. You wanna come with me? Given that me and my dad don’t tear each other’s heads off tomorrow?”

“Why wouldn’t I want to go with you?” You chuckled, Javier shrugging as he glanced over at you.

“Just didn’t want to assume and put you in an uncomfortable spot,” he watched as a smile grew on your face, his hand reaching over out of instinct to pinch your chin. “It’s gonna be packed. My family is…a lot.”

“That’s okay, I’m doing better now that I’m on those anti-anxiety meds Dr. Hadari put me on.” He nodded, giving her a look of pride. “Not gonna have another freakout around your family.”

It had been a hard battle getting her to agree to seek help for her panic attacks, but eventually, she conceded on the condition that he’d return to therapy too.

Javier hadn’t told her much about it when they first got together, but he’d been depressed for a long-time after his mother passed away. It was easy to hide for most of his life, everyone assuming his womanizing ways and appreciation for alcohol was just a personality trait, but it wasn’t until the Chief ordered him to go to therapy a year or so back after he’d got drunk and caused a scene at a convention that he learned it was all just a coping mechanism.

He made it six months before quitting his sessions, having gotten bored with the healing process, and then three or so months later he met Lucky and his past slowly came back to haunt him. For a while he avoided the conversation—still not allowing himself to believe what they had would last—but now, three months into the relationship, it was clear as day that she wasn’t going anywhere and neither was he.

So, he found himself attending weekly sessions again. It was helping rid him of the itch in his palms any time he was near a liquor bottle, no longer requiring the medicinal taste and burn in his throat to wash down his feelings. Now, instead of burying it all deep down until it boiled over and burned Lucky, he was able to openly communicate his feelings and fears. And thanks to Lucky’s own therapy sessions, she was able to open up as well.

“Baby,” he spoke with a puppy dog look, Lucky batting her sleepy eyelids at him and chuckling. “Could we just maybe go to bed? I’m…exhausted.”

“Oh thank god,” he chuckled at the relief in her voice, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms. “I’m so sleepy. I was just gonna power through and give you the worst, most lazy sex of your life, so this saves me the embarrassment.”

“I still think the worst sex with you is still better than sex with anyone else, bebita.” He put the truck into park in his driveway, both of them eying the front door longingly knowing that beyond it lied his plush mattress. “Hold on, stay here. I’m gonna go grab your crutches, your ankle is probably just irritated from being on you feet all day.”

Javier grabbed his leather messenger bag from the backseat of the truck and climbed out, jogging up the walkway to unlock the front door. A second later he returned carrying her crutches, walking around to the passenger side and opening the door for her, helping her onto her feet. They walked together at her injured pace, Javier shutting the door and locking it behind them once they’d crossed the threshold.

“Hey baby,” Lucky cooed to a very sleepy McCartney as he walked up to them with a tail wag and a whine. “Probably needs to go pee. I’ll go let him out back.”

“No, I’ll do it. Go lay down and take your boot off, I wanna check it out and make sure it’s okay before we go to bed.” He pressed his lips to her temple before walking through the living room to the sliding glass door, whistling for the golden retriever.

•••

You did as you were told, not even bothering to take a shower due to the ache in your ankle and the dry, tiredness in your eyes. You stripped out of your clothes, balling the them up and tossing them into the hamper before grabbing one of Javier’s old t-shirts and a pair of cotton boyshorts—tonight was not about looking sexy.

Javier stumbled in with a big yawn, patting his leg for McCartney to come in before he shut the door behind him. Offering a sleepy smile, he walked over to the foot of the bed where your ankle laid, sitting down beside it. He checked it out, squeezing the now swollen and heated muscle, gently massaging it with his fingers to get a feel for the recovering injury, his sleep taking the backseat for a moment.

“It feels fine, I just think you need to take it easy. I’ll go get you an ice pack and some pillows from the other room. Don’t get up.” He ordered, his voice a level deeper and raspier from his exhaustion, but here he was, still taking care of you.

When he came back, you were half-asleep, your body still over the comforter and in an awkward position. You breathed in sharply at the sound of the door closing, bolting awake again in time to see Javier smirking at you.

“Was gonna wake you up with the ice pack. Thought it would be funny.” You rolled your eyes and chuckled at him, adjusting yourself so that you were beneath the blanket. Javier stuffed a couple pillows under your ankle and laid the cloth-covered ice pack over it, leaning down to peck your shin before throwing the blanket over your feet. You hummed at him when he walked up to where your head laid on the pillows, your sleepy eyes batting closed as he placed a sweet kiss to your lips—once, twice, and then once again before moving away. “Gonna take a shower, I smell like surgery.”

“Hurry up, the bed is too cold without you in it,” you ordered, earning a wink.

“Macca, up on the bed.” Your dog did as commanded, hopping up and cuddling into your side. “There, use him as a placeholder until I’m out.”

“He’s not nearly as cute,” you grumbled, scratching the dog’s head. “And he smells like Fritos.”

“So do you, now get some sleep, bebita. You’re gonna be cranky in the morning if you don’t.” You rolled your eyes but gave him a sleepy grin, eyes hardly able to stay open as you watched him walk into the en-suite and strip down before stepping into the shower. You wanted to will yourself awake and un-injured just to join him in there, the water running over his skin making your hands a bit jealous, but soon sleep took over against your will. Tonight, your dreams would have to do.

•••

Javier hadn’t been in the shower for long, ten or so minutes perhaps, but when he walked back into the bedroom Lucky was fast asleep, McCartney tucked into her side. He smiled at the sight as he tugged on a pair of boxers, using the towel to dry off his hair as best as he could so that he didn’t wake up with a cold, but he couldn’t be bothered to wait long. Tucking himself in on the other side of the bed, he woke the sleeping pup up to shoo him to the foot of the bed, taking his spot and wrapping his arms around his sleeping girlfriend.

“Goodnight, bebita. I love you,” he pressed a kiss to her forehead and reached to turn off her beside lamp, his eyes closing shut the minute his head hit the pillow.

It was still dark out, the clock reading 5:26 when Javier looked over at it. Neither of them had to be at the hospital today, Lucky coming off an impressive 48-hour shift and Javier having no surgeries booked for the next two days. There was no logical reason for either of them to be awake, and yet, here Lucky was, laying on her stomach between his thighs, waking him up with her lips pressed against the head of his cock.

“Mm, bebita,” he spoke through a sleep-thick voice, giving her a smile as he batted his eyes open. “What are you up to down there?”

“Oh, you know, just hanging out.” He chuckled at her, raking her hair back. “I wanna taste you, baby. Can I?”

“Mm-hm,” he nodded, his fingers stroking her jaw as she opened her mouth up, flattening her tongue across the underside of his cock. Javier’s eyes closed at the sudden influx of pleasure, sleep mixing in with it making him feel drunk. When she wrapped her lips around his thick head, he let out a soft sigh of relief, smiling down at her. “Glad you woke me up. Feels so good.”

“How do you want it?” She asked, punctuating her question with a few swirls of her tongue around his head.

“Mm, tease me for a little,” he replied huskily, his eyes closing to relish in the feeling of her kitten licks and plush kisses to his shaft, her hand stroking him at the base. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful in the morning.”

She smiled against him before taking him in deep, kissing her fist as it gripped his base. Javier’s jaw went slack, reaching to keep her there in the back of her throat but she pulled off and tapped his tip against her tongue instead. His head fell back against the pillow and a deep chuckle escaped him at her teasing, knowing that he was the one who requested it in the first place.

“Mala,” he playfully scolded with a smile, Lucky pursing her lips against the tip of his cock and stroking him against it, her eyes locked on his. “You feel how hard you get me baby?”

“You were this hard when you were asleep. Better be dreaming of me,” she raised an eyebrow at him before sucking just his head into her mouth, his brows furrowing at the feeling.

“Always dreaming of you,” he assured, his smile now gone and in it’s place a needy look, his lip bitten as he silently urged her to continue.

“You wanna fuck my throat, baby? Or do you want more teasing?” He shook his head at the latter question, stroking the hollow of her cheek as she took him in deeper, pulling a deep and husky moan from his chest.

“Just like that,” he praised as she took him in deep, his hand holding the back of her head as his hips started to rut up into her, a filthy gagging sound filling the room as she took him skillfully. “You’re so good, baby girl. Feel so fucking good like this…shit.”

His pleasure darkened eyes locked with hers and he felt himself pulse with desire. All she ever had to do was look at him for him to want to give her everything he had, her eyes becoming his home in the most comfy and secure sense of the word. When they looked at each other—no matter the occasion—it was as though they entered a world completely of their own making. There were no lies, no ruses, no clever masking of their souls, only truth and adoration. A mutual understanding that went deeper than his scientific and logic-leaning brain ever thought was possible.

“Gonna cum, baby,” he warned through a whimper, his free hand fisting the sheets by his hip, the other bunching her hair up in his fist to keep it out of her face. He didn’t want any obstructions to this view. “Fuck, gonna cum. Shit. Fuck!”

A few more mumbled curses and he was spilling deep into her mouth, Lucky eagerly swallowing all he had to give and licking up what slipped out.

She told him once that she’d hated swallowing before meeting him, but that for some inexplicable reason, actually craved it with Javier. He found it hard to believe that he was anything special, but he could see the truth in her eyes. She did enjoy it, and he could see just how much right in this moment, her tongue licking and licking, swallowing all of his spend that she could find and ohmyfuckinggod humming at the taste.

“So good,” she wiped the corners of her mouth with a grin, crawling up the bed to give him a kiss, Javier holding her tightly to his lips to get a taste for himself. “Mm, thank you.”

“You’re so fucking sexy, bebita.” Javier flipped her onto her back but she shook her head when he started to kiss downwards.

“Started my period,” she pushed his hair back as he stopped and chose to lay on her belly instead. “And I know you don’t mind, but I don’t really feel very sexy right now.”

“You look sexy right now,” he assured with a smile. “Fine. If I can’t make you feel good via orgasm, can I do anything else?”

“You could grab my heating pad from the bathroom and some ibuprofen.” She gave him her best puppy dog eyes and he chuckled, kissing her belly before climbing off. “And—“

“Some chocolate from the fridge. Already on it, bebita.” He smiled the entire way to the kitchen, grabbing the dark chocolate and filling up two glasses of water while he was at it before returning, setting them down on her beside table before walking into the bathroom to gather the other requested items.

“If it wasn’t for the snoring and farting in your sleep, I’d think you were God, Javier Peña.” He couldn’t help the laugh that sounded out in the bedroom when he plugged in her heating pad and laid it across her stomach, her fingers already coated in melted chocolate.

“I assure you, I’m not the only one who snores or farts, cariño.” She gasped at that, an embarrassed look on her face as he walked over to his side with his water, climbing back into bed and tugging the blankets up to his stomach.

“Are they at least cute farts?”

“Sometimes.” He chuckled, tilting his head in thought. “And sometimes they’re just plain impressive.”

“Oh god,” she covered her face with her hands, now licked clean.

“Your ankle feeling better, Farty McFly?” She grabbed the pillow that was propping up her ankle and hit him with it, the two of them giggling together as he took it and swung it back at her much softer than the one she graced him with.

“Farty McFly?!”

“You literally started everything today. I haven’t initiated a single thing,” he defended with a smile, earning a prod to his side. “See! I’m the victim!”

“I’m bleeding out of my vagina, be nice,” she gave him a cute frown and he cooed at her playfully, scooting closer and cuddling her close to his side, petting her hair dramatically.

“Pobrecita,” she reached down and pinched the muscle of his thigh, making him shout an “aye!”. “Fine…diablecita. That’s more accurate anyways.”

“Whatever you say, Gaseous Clay.” Javier turned to look at her with impressed amusement, a rumble of laughter shaking her as he held her close.

“That was good,” he praised through a chuckle, kissing her temple.

“What time do you wanna head out to your dad’s?” He grumbled at the question, burying his head in her shoulder. “You promised.”

“I know, and we’ll go, but I’m still allowed to be a bitch about it.” She chuckled and stroked through his bed head, his hair extra curly after sleeping on it still damp. “I don’t know. We’ll leave here around four. Don’t wanna spend the whole fucking day there.”

“What do you wanna spend the whole fucking day doing? Now that sex is off the table?” He lifted his head to frown at that, her finger tracing his dark mustache. “For today. Maybe tomorrow I’ll feel horny enough to let you fuck me on my period.”

Javier lifted his eyes to the ceiling and let go of her to make praying hands.

“God, if you’re listening…I’ve saved a lot of lives over the years, not to brag or anything—“

“Shut up,” she chuckled. “Seriously, what do you wanna do?”

“I don’t know. Go to the thrift store. Go get some menudo from that little food truck next to it. Oh! I need to go get the truck’s tires changed, too.” She nodded in agreement to his list of errands. “Anything you wanna do?”

“Get pedicures.” She poked his stomach and gave him another puppy dog look, seemingly not realizing that Javier had become more than into her idea of self-care. Though he was fine admitting to liking her thrift store trips, he wouldn’t quite admit that he also enjoyed their monthly trip to the nail salon to get pedicures. In fact, he made every effort to grumble about it the entire time just so she wouldn’t catch on, meanwhile secretly loving the pampering treatment.

“Ugh, fine. I guess we can squeeze that in.”

•••

Thrifting had gone successfully, the two of you picking up a couple books and hitting the jackpot on Levi jeans. Next up was getting some menudo from the food truck, the soup fresh and earning satisfied moans from the two of you with every spoonful. You ate together in his truck, too invested in the taste to make much conversation with each other but neither of you minded. After that, Javier dropped his truck off at the shop, Steve and Connie picking the two of you up to take you to the nail salon.

“Can’t believe I let Connie talk me into this,” Steve grumbled, jerking his feet away with every brush of the pumice stone against his heel. Javier pretended to hate being there as well, letting out an unconvincing scoff and nodding.

“Psh, yeah. Totally hate coming here.”

You smiled to yourself as you watched him relax into the chair’s massage feature, knowing from the very first trip just how much he adored coming along for your pampering treatments.

“How’s it going on Ortho?” Connie asked, interrupting your amused watching. “Is Steve being hard on you?”

Connie had been a scrub nurse for ten years now, her and Steve meeting in the OR. She informed you that she was working at the hospital up until last year, taking a step back from her career so that she could focus on their daughter Olivia, the two adopting her after her parents were killed in a MVC. It was nice to not only have a pair of friends that understood the demands of your career, but had such a similar love story as yours as well. There were no judgements with the Murphy’s, the four of you all getting along like lifelong friends.

“Steve is way easier to work with than Javier,” you chuckled, Javier scoffing at your words as he eavesdropped. “I’m genuinely enjoying Ortho. I never realized it would be so much fun screwing bones back together.”

“She’s just in denial,” Javier insisted, making the two of you smile. “She’ll come running back to Neuro when she gets bored.”

“Is it supposed to tickle this bad?” Steve asked, gripping the arms of his chair so hard his knuckles were white.

“Javi’s under the impression that I’m desperately missing his service, but I’m not. Maybe Dr. Hanson, but not Dr. Peña.” You teased, Javier biting his lip as he reached over to poke your side. “What about you? Is Olivia adjusting okay?”

“Yeah, she just got colic, so she was a handful for a while there, but it’s gotten easier.” She looked exhausted—they both did—and it was all the reminder you needed to remember to pick your birth control up from the pharmacy next week. “You two seem good. When do you think things are gonna…progress?”

“Shh,” you shushed her softly, not wanting Javier to overhear and get the wrong idea. You were more than happy with how things were currently, there was truly no desire to rush him into a proposal or, god forbid, children. If eventually down the road the two of you felt compelled to do it, marriage would be fine. But kids? That you weren’t so keen on. “We’re happier than ever, I don’t see any point in signing a legal document or pushing any babies out.”

“Did I just hear you say you want to push a baby out?” Javier asked, his eyes wide with terror. You chuckled and reached over, pinching his chin.

“You and I both know we’d never look at my vagina the same if that happened. No. No babies being pushed out of me.” He chuckled and nodded, kissing your knuckles.

“You two are perfect for each other and I don’t necessarily mean that as a compliment,” Steve added, you and Javier laughing and giving each other a wink.

After dropping you both back off at the shop, it was time for you both to head home and pick up McCartney for your trip down to Laredo.

Javier was tense the entire time, one hand gripping the steering wheel, the other gripping your thigh just as tightly. You chuckled at the hold he had on your jean-clad leg, peeling his fingers off dramatically to earn his attention.

“Shit, sorry bebita,” he rubbed his hand over your thigh in a show of gentleness, your lip poking out as you reached over to scratch the curls at the nape of his neck.

“You okay?” You asked, Javier clenching his jaw and shaking his head. “Let’s talk about it, then. Get it all out so that when you get there you’re less inclined to scream at your father.”

“It’s not him that I’m mad at,” he sighed lifting his hand from your leg to run it over his face. “So…Mrs. Montoya might have a reason for hating me.”

“Yeah?” You asked, your interest piqued.

“So…when I was in high school, I was…relatively tame. But—senior year rolled around, and my mom had just gotten sick, and I guess I had a bit of a wild streak for a while.” He sucked in a deep breath, turning to glance at you before continuing. “During Homecoming, her quarterback of a son came up to me, and I had agreed to take his ex to the dance since we’d been friends for a while—anyways, he wasn’t happy that she was there with me. And so, he told me to meet him out in the parking lot to settle it.”

You kept your eyes fixed on him, the way his jaw clenched, the way his hands flexed against the leather of the steering wheel.

“So, I met him outside. I was just gonna talk shit, I guess. I wasn’t into his ex like that. Wasn’t gonna go out there and fight for her or anything, she was just a friend. But,” Javier chuckled and ticked his jaw. “Then he started talking shit about my mom. My mom was a pretty lady, I was used to hearing my friends talk about her and shit. But this dude wasn’t my friend, and everyone fucking knew she was dying. Still, he kept on fucking going and going, I don’t even wanna repeat the shit he was saying about her. So…I just lost it. Next thing I knew, the chaperones were tugging me off him—the kid was bloody, I knocked out a few teeth, broke his nose, gave him a concussion. That’s why she tried to fail me. That’s why she’s only being a bitch to me.”

You frowned, rubbing his tense shoulders, wishing you could go back in time and comfort a very vulnerable and young Javier.

“And part of me wants to not blame her for her sons bullshit, but a bigger part of me, the part that still lives and breathes for my mom, feels like it’s disrespectful for me to accept someone who not only raised a kid so fucking vile, but also never once made him apologize for the shit he said.” He glanced over at you with teary eyes. “And my dad’s fucking in love with her. Can you imagine? The dickhead who told me he wanted to fuck my mother’s dead corpse might become my step-brother? And I’m supposed to be fine?”

“Oh, Javi,” you cooed, your eyes welling with tears of sympathy.

“I want my dad to be happy, I do. And I know she did nothing wrong, but god, she’s the one who raised him. I look at her and I see him, fucking grinning as he detailed the shit he wanted to do to my fucking mom—“ Javier cut himself off by allowing himself to cry, your heart twisting inside of your chest. He pulled over onto the side of the highway, covering his face as he cried into his hands. You pulled him in for a hug, holding him as he shook from his tears.

“We don’t have to go,” you suddenly felt more of an obligation to protect this typically very strong and collected man beside you than to make sure he accepted his father’s new relationship. “We can turn around and go home.”

“No,” he shook his head and pulled back, wiping his eyes. “No, I wanna talk to my dad. Tell him my side of the story. Tell him that I’m happy for him but that…that I’ll need time to be okay with this.”

“Yeah?” You asked, making sure that he was indeed okay with proceeding with tonight’s dinner. The last thing you’d want is to push him into something he wasn’t ready for.

“Yeah, baby.” He nodded, reaching for your chin and pulling you in for a peck. “Thank you for letting me get all of this out. I’d much rather cry in front of you than in front of my dad.”

“You don’t need to thank me. You know how many times you’ve helped me through my shit? I wanna be here to help you through yours as well.” He smiled and nodded, pecking your lips once more before taking a deep breath and merging back onto the lonesome highway. “If you ever need a quick out, I can pull my tampon out and just start bleeding everywhere.”

“Well, let’s maybe keep that as a backup plan.” He chuckled and intertwined his hand with yours. “I love you, baby. So much.”

“And I love you. Even more.”

•••

You sat outside with Mrs. Montoya, the two of you sharing a cup of tea on the front porch while Javier and his father spoke in private.

You were proud of him for remaining civil, now knowing exactly how deep his feelings of resentment went in regards to his fathers new love interest. He didn’t say anything unkind, didn’t give her that signature eye roll and jaw tick when she greeted him with a sour tone—he simply nodded at her politely and asked his father if they could speak privately, to which Chucho agreed.

“Chuchie tells me you’re not from Texas,” you smiled a bit at her nickname for Javier’s father, their bond undeniable even if you had good enough reason not to root for them anymore. “How are you liking it here so far?”

“Well, the weather I could live without, but I met the love of my life here, so I guess it’s alright.”

“The love of your life? You don’t know him very well.” She chuckled darkly, shaking her head as she looked off into the distance. You felt a mounting feeling inside, the need to protect Javier’s integrity making you fill with a rage you had yet to ever feel.

“I know him better than you do.” You spat, her eyes turning to look at you in disbelief, as though she was confirming what her ears couldn’t possibly be hearing. “He told me about the night at homecoming. And I know that you were just protecting the person you love most in this world, but so was he. The things your son said—“

“You were there to hear them, mija?” She asked sarcastically, giving you a taste of the tone she used on your boyfriend. “My son did nothing wrong.”

“Well, you chose to pursue the wrong man, then—if you harbor this much hatred for his son.” She scoffed at that.

“Chucho is a good man, I won’t let what Javier did stop me from loving him.” You shook your head, standing up, McCartney following you as you walked down the porch steps. “I saw my son beaten to a pulp by that boy in there, and you expect me to like him?”

“I expect you to be an adult!” You turned around and shouted back. “Javier was a scared child who was losing his mother, and whether you believe it or not, I know that Javier is an honest man! He wouldn’t lie about…about the things that your son was saying. He loved his mother so much and your son deserved what he got. You’re an adult—beyond adult, clearly—and if you’re still too immature to forgive him for something that happened when he was seventeen? Then you’re not someone I want to know either.”

“Mija,” Chucho walked out after hearing the shouting, Javier following closely behind, his concerned eyes fixed on you. “Everything okay?”

“Ask her.” You gestured ahead, Javier giving you a soft look of appreciation at how fiercely you were defending him.

“Celeste?” Chucho turned to her as Javier walked down the steps to join you by the truck, his hands cradling both sides of your face as he rested his forehead against yours.

“I love you.” He whispered, your head nodding.

“Javi,” his father interrupted the tender moment. “Come up here. Either the two of you squash this for good, or…”

“Or what, pops? You gonna disown me?” Javier asked, remaining still beside you, his hands finding home in his pockets.

“No.” He sighed and looked over at a very concerned looking Mrs. Montoya. “If it’s between you and my son, I’m choosing my son. But, cariño, I’m begging you to forgive him. Because I do care about you.”

“I can’t do that, Chuchie.” She shook her head, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” he nodded solemnly, looking back to Javier. “Then I’m sorry too, but this is over.”

“You believe his story?” She asked in disbelief, Javier sighing beside you. You slid your arms around his waist and hugged his side, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and lips pressing against your head in thanks.

“I do. My son might make mistakes, but he is not a liar. I’m sorry, Celeste. You should go.” Javier swallowed thickly, and with your ear pressed to his chest you swore you could hear his heart cracking a bit at the sight of his father having to let go the first person he let in since his mother.

“Like father, like son.” Those were the last words to leave her mouth as she stormed down the steps and hopped into her car, speeding off down the dirt road. Chucho cleared his throat before waving you both over.

“Dad, I’m really sor—“

“It’s fine. I believe you. And you’re my son—you’re more important to me than a woman who couldn’t see past her own resentment.” The three of you shared a moment of silence before Chucho was clapping his hands together. “Vamos, the steaks are getting cold.”

•••

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ohpedromypedro · 4 years

Text

Under Arrest

A/N: Excited to finally know more about Maxwell’s character in WW84 so I incorporated some of the newly discovered info into this fic 💕

word count: 1.7k+

pairings: Maxwell Lord x f!Reader

warnings: smut, slight public sex, multiple orgasms, rough sex, unprotected sex, Papi kink, character arrests, etc

flashbacks in italics

Do you regret the decision you made just one hour prior to getting yourself handcuffed in the backseat of a police cruiser with Maxwell cuffed and seated right beside you? Absolutely not. And neither does Maxwell. The two of you were having an experience and honestly were so caught up in your antics that you weren’t even thinking about being caught. And then you were.

*One hour ago*

“Maxwell,” you slur, your head spinning from how much alcohol you already consumed during the course of the party in which you’re supposed to be attending. “I think…” hiccup. “I had a little too much whiskey.” You look up at your husband and he just shakes his head with a chuckle.

“I think we both have, preciosa.” He slurs right back, running his hand alongside your bare inner thigh. His cock is buried to the hilt inside your pulsating cunt and he has you pinned in the corner of a wall down one of the empty hallways of the building where this “grand” party is taking place, both of your legs wrapped firmly around his waist.

“Fuck, ‘m s-so full,” you gasp and hiccup in unison, a deep, low moan suddenly leaving your mouth when Maxwell pulls almost all the way out of you then thrusts right back in hard, slow enough that you feel each thick inch of his throbbing length. “Oh!”

“You sound so sexy when you moan like that for me.” He smirks, pressing his lips to your ear with a low grunt and growling out his drunken thoughts. “I guess my cock is just that big...so big that you can’t stay quiet with it buried so deep in that ever-so-tight cunt of yours.”

“Mmmm you just-” you gasp again. “Fuck me so good, Mr Lord.”

“I’m glad because I plan on fucking you this good for the rest of your life, Mrs Lord.” Maxwell teases, leaning forward to capture your lips with his own for a rough but passionate kiss, it being sort of sloppy by how drunk the two of you are, and moves his hips back and forth hard a few times. “I’d fuck you like this anywhere and everywhere possible in this building if I could.”

“Mmmm fuck, why not at least try s-some places?” You groan against his lips, moving your fingers to card through his hair. “We can end this party with a BANG.” You smirk.

“I like the way you think, joya preciosa.” Maxwell groans, starting to move his hips at a mind numbing pace. “We’ll finish here first and when you’re done cumming on my cock right here, I’m going to bring you over to that empty elevator and fuck some more cum out of your heavenly little cunt.”

“Oh please, Maxwell!” You cry out, head thrown back against the two corner walls you’re pinned against while your arms slip around Maxwell’s upper torso. “Fuck! I-I’m gonna cum so hard.”

“Yeah you are, princesa. You’re going to drench each inch of this cock until you have no cum left to give.” He growls, burying his face in the crook of your neck and sucking several dark bruises along your throat while he relentlessly thrusts in and out of you. He just loves leaving his mark on you as a reminder to everyone that you are his.

“Oh mmmmm, yeah!” You’re unable to speak coherent words at this point, Maxwell fucking you into a moaning, blabbering mess down this empty hallway.

Your eyes roll back the deeper he sends his cock, your nails digging into the fabric of his suit as your walls start squeezing him like a vice. If there weren’t any music playing in the large lounge area where the party is taking place, people would be bound to hear the moans he’s getting out of you.

“Listen to you, my hermosa esposa...so vocal from the many pleasures my cock gives you.” He nips at the shell of your ear, his lips pressed against it as he murmurs almost gutturally. “Cum for Papi, princesa. Give me everything.”

“Oh, Papi!” You cry out as you clench and cum around him, your legs tightening around his waist while your orgasm washes over you.

“That’s it, honey. Just like that.”

Maxwell keeps a firm hold on you as he continues fucking you through your high, his face buried against your neck. Grunts and growls escape him as he nears his own edge, his teeth sinking into the pulse point of your throat once his cock begins to twitch and he spills inside of you, his hips stilling right as he’s buried up to your cervix.

“Oh, Maxwell! F-Fuck yes, fill my t-tight little cunt!” You whimper your words as your grip on him grows even tighter, your head tilting to the side to grant him better access to your throat.

“Mmm buena niña. Happily taking Papi��s cum inside your pretty little cunt.”

“Mmhm...always willing to hold your seed deep in my womb.” You murmur, gasping when he pulls away from your throat to grab you by the chin.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck all my cum into your womb while I fuck all of yours from you?”

“Yes!” You whimper, your gaze locked on his as he forces you to look him in the eyes. “Please f-fuck me in the elevator and fill my cunt all over again.”

“Fuck, I love you, esposa.” He growls, pulling you away from the wall and carrying you over to the empty elevator, obviously not in use at the moment since it’s after hours for the building. He slams your back against the wall inside after the door closes and kisses you with fervor, his hips immediately resuming their previous movements and starting at an achingly hard pace.

“Fuck! Yes, Maxwell!” You moan into his mouth, your arms slipping around his neck so you can card your fingers through his hair and give him a heated kiss in return.

“Fucking love listening to you moan my name like that. Shouting it out as I fuck you so damn good my name is all you can even speak.” He rails at your sweetest of spots, groaning at the way your walls clench around him in response.

“Mmmmm Maxwell!”

“Exactly,” he rasps, moving his lips to go right into sucking marks onto the other side of your throat.

“Ooooh, Maxwell.”

“Keep saying it, bebita. Keep crying out your marido’s name as he fucks that cunt for more cum.” He kisses you again, repeatedly aiming for the spot he knows will trigger more of your cum. He just loves the way it feels coating the entirety of his length, even leaking onto his balls at times too. He really truly got lucky when he married you.

“I--cum!” You cry out, clenching around his cock once again. “Cum in me M-Maxwell!”

“Fuck,” he growls as you clench around him and trigger his release, your release arriving only moments after you feel his warm seed coating your womb.

“Maxwell!”

“Y/N,” he grunts, licking at the marks he left on your throat while riding out both your highs, your moans and whimpers echoing in the small space of the elevator.

You don’t even hear the elevator door open again and if you did you honestly wouldn’t have thought anything of it. Your head is reeling from the intensity of your second orgasm and you can practically hear the pulse of your heartbeat throbbing in your ears, your eyes fluttered shut while you catch your breath. It’s the sound of a throat clearing next that has both you and Maxwell snapping your heads toward the doorway of the elevator.

There stand a security guard and two cops right behind him, the three of them giving both of you looks that have you hiding your face in Maxwell’s chest.

“Maxwell Lord, why am I not surprised?” One of the officers states as he pulls out his handcuffs and dangles them in front of Maxwell’s face mockingly, a shot at the fact that he’s arrested Maxwell probably many times before for various other reasons. Maxwell’s glare would kill if it could and the one he’s giving the officer dangling cuffs in his face right now will definitely give that officer nightmares later. “You know what comes next, Maxwell.”

Now here you are, sitting in the back of the police cruiser of the arresting officers and being driven to the police station even though you know Maxwell is going to bail the both of you out as soon as you get there.

You’re right, he does. Hands his credit card right over while stating “And you can call my lawyer if there are any issues in bailing myself and my esposa out.” Man had everything perfectly planned out in his head before you even stepped foot in the station. Maxwell is filthy rich, not stupid. He knows what he’s doing. He has to, especially as the CEO of a family owned company.

“Don’t worry, Mr Lord, there won’t be any issues.” The bail bondsman, a woman looking to be nearing her sixties, gives Maxwell a tight smile and you can’t help but to inwardly snort. She’s so intimidated by a man of such power and riches, yet doesn’t realize that behind closed doors with his family, he is the most loving and protective man you could ever know.

“Thank you, Dolores. I couldn’t thank you enough.” Maxwell shoots his signature cocky CEO smirk before slipping his arm around your waist and leading the two of you outside, immediately calling his driver to pick the both of you up. He looks at you and sighs after ending the call, slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him. “I’m sorry to have gotten you arrested, my joya preciosa.”

“Oh stop it,” you chuckle, rubbing your hands over his chest and shaking your head with a smile. “We got ourselves arrested. You didn’t do anything, love. What you did was bail us out and now we can go home to our children and relieve the babysitter of her duties.”

“I love you. Truly you’ve made me one lucky man. You love my son as if he were your own and you blessed me with a beautiful little girl.”

“A spoiled one,” you smile up at Maxwell, your fingers nimbly straightening his tie. “I love you, our son and our beautiful daughter more than you could ever imagine, Maxwell Lord. Always.”

“Mi reina,” he whispers as his thumb traces your cheekbone, your cheeks flushing from him calling you his queen.

“Tu reina,” you breathe, sighing in content when he kisses you again for the first time since you got arrested.

He holds you in his arms with his lips attached to yours just like this until the driver arrives, content himself with how the night played out. You two truly bring out each other’s wild side.

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