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notjustjavierpena · 9 months

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Where I'm Supposed To Be, a husband!Javier Christmas fic

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Here’s my Christmas present for you all. I wrote this with blood, sweat and tears. I love you. Thank you for giving me such a wonderful opportunity to make myself, and everyone who reads my work, happy due to a silly, little, fictional family. Thanks to @javiscigarette and @joels-shitty-puns for being amazing and caring ❤️ and obviously thank you @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for being my sweet Spanish tutor 😭🙏

Summary: Just Christmas morning with the Peñas. Lots of chaotic and sweet children but also some alone time between you and your husband who very much has a present for you this morning.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, domestic life, three children being cute, unwrapping of gifts on Christmas morning, dancing to the radio, butterflies, being courted by javi, some rough pussy eating (javi is a cunning linguist and a fucking menace), nose riding, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, praises and pet names, rough sex, kitchen sex, lactation kink, tit play, bit of breeding kink. creampie, they are gross and in love, absolutely married to each other

Word count: 7.1k!!!!!

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52364101

Where I’m Supposed To Be

Your eyes open wide as soon as you feel the weight of two children in your bed, and the realization of what day it is comes to mind. Since you are lying on your side, facing your husband, you watch the same shock settle in him as his own slumber is interrupted. Javier is lying on his stomach, hugging his pillow tightly, and when Inés starts jumping up and down at the foot of the bed, he shoots up to look around with a confused expression. You smile as he catches your eye. He yawns back at you.

“Wake up! Wake up!” Inés’ squeaky voice announces. She sounds out of breath from jumping continuously, “It’s Christmas!”

The whole bed shakes. Lucas has joined in on the jumping, a contrast to his usually so well-behaved and calm manner, but you remember the magic excitement that Christmas brought along when you were a kid yourself.

You yawn loudly to tease, turning onto your back. Inés barely survives the way you drag out waking up properly.

“Alright!” You sit up in bed with a little smile, letting your hands come down on top of the covers, “We’re up.”

“I’m not,” Javier grumbles into his pillow. Inés takes it as an opportunity to jump on her father’s back, sitting down on him with a knee on either side of his torso. You can hear the air being knocked from Javier’s lungs and can’t help but smile fully now, fighting a belly laugh as your insistent daughter starts tugging at his hair and shoulders.

“Come on, Mom!” Lucas begs too but without bordering on violence. He grabs at your hand to pull it, and you throw the covers to the side to let him lead you out of bed.

“I’m coming, mijo (my son),” you say and slip on a t-shirt that you have laid out the day before; there’s been a fair amount of Christmas mornings at this point but with Inés getting older, and thus more steadfast in her personality, you have resorted to creating a system that you hope neither of your kids has realized exists.

When Inés sees you out of bed, she quickly abandons her father at the realization of your willingness. Javier takes in a deep breath as he loses her weight on top of himself, imitating the sound of someone falling asleep again. You’ll let him for now; after all, he’s been the one up all night to arrange the presents so it looks like Santa came to visit.

“I have to check on Seb first,” you inform their hopeful faces. Inés groans and even Lucas looks like he might join in but you don’t give in to being rushed, simply shrugging, “If you are quiet, he won’t wake up and it’ll be quicker.”

You grab the baby monitor from your nightstand and then your kids follow you down the hallway of family photos to Sebastian’s nursery. Your baby is sleeping soundly when all three of you enter ever so quietly, a sign of contentment and feeling safe, and you don’t dare reach out to touch him in case he is disturbed from his sleep, even despite him being the easiest one of all three, so often off to dreamland that you have had Javier needing to reassure you.

You stare down at Sebastian for a few moments. He has his arms above his head, hands squeezed into fists and his little mouth slightly agape. You can feel yourself being overcome with emotion as both Lucas and Inés observe their little brother’s slumber with you, and with such understanding in their eyes that you wish you could take a picture of them. They have all of their hands clutched around the railing of the crib to peek down at the baby.

“Mom,” Lucas whispers without taking his eyes off Sebastian, “Can we please go see our presents?”

“Pleeeeease,” Inés follows.

“Okaaaay, let’s go,” you whisper back.

You leave the bedroom with the baby monitor in your hand and Inés hand clutched in your other, only to hold her in place in case she wants to run down the stairs.

Both your kids’ eyes go wide as they enter the living room. There are several differently sized and shaped presents underneath the lit-up Christmas tree, sporting extravagant bows and wrapping paper designs. You know that none of them are for you but you’ll relish in your children’s faces as they run towards the pile.

“Steady now,” you say as you place the baby monitor on the coffee table, “Everything has led up to this, I know, but we don’t want it to be over in a few minutes, do we? Let’s do one at a t—“

“But Santa’s been!” Inés shrieks in delight. Lucas looks at you, only seven years old and not convinced, and you wink at him only to receive a little smile. He looks pleased with himself, sharing a secret with his mother.

“Really? How do you know he has?” You say animatedly. It’s obvious, she tells you, look at the presents, but you distract her from ripping each of them open by walking up to gape at the empty plate and glass that are on the coffee table, gasping for show as if to imitate your daughter, “Inés! You’re right! Look!”

Inés whips around, darting towards you. She stares in shock. Lucas seems a little impatient, hovering around a big present that is for him, so you hold out your hand and call him over to look at the Santa-evidence too.

He walks around the coffee table to lean against you instead, and you rest a hand on the back of his neck. You gently run your fingers through his hair, whispering to him as Inés lifts the plate to look underneath it.

“You’re the best big brother, sweetie,” you mutter and repeat the move, smoothing his bed hair. He leans into you further.

“Look! All gone!” Inés parrots as she stares at the cookies that are nowhere to be found. Neither on or under the plate.

Lucas still doesn’t look very convinced. In the future, you’ll tell him about the sugary kiss his father planted on your cheek when crawling into bed after eating cookies and drinking milk at three in the morning - and his preteen self will crinkle his nose in disgust.

Speaking of your husband, Javier enters the living room silently so as to not disturb Inés’ hunt for clues. He has put on a t-shirt that hangs over his boxers, looking beautifully disheveled, and you smile like a schoolgirl when he looks at you happily.

“Is there anything else? Did he just leave behind all those great big presents?” You still talk excitedly, grinning as your daughter’s eyes scan the floor and ceiling.

She continues to the fireplace, pointing out the small amount of soot mixed with glitter that you’ve spread out on the wooden floor, “He’s been! Look, Mommy!”

“Wow!” Javier now chimes in. Inés recognises his voice instantly and she runs to her father the second that she hears him. Javier picks her up from the ground with the groan of a father to settle her on his hip. He kisses her cheek repeatedly until he blows a raspberry, “He did all that for you?”

Inés giggles like only a child can. You want to melt. She claps excitedly, “All for me.”

“You must’ve been very good this year, mija (my daughter),” he says, ruffling her already messy hair. She shies away from it but throws her arms around his neck as soon as he has stopped, burying her head in his shoulder.

Lucas shifts impatiently but he doesn’t say anything.

“You want to open a present?” You whisper to him.

“Can I?” He whispers back with wide eyes.

“They still have a few clues to go through, outside even,” you crouch down to kiss his cheek from behind, hugging him close to you, “If you want to, I’ll let you. I’ll choose though.”

In the background, Javier catches on. He places Inés back down on the floor, holding out his hand for her and winking at his son whilst talking to his daughter, “Do you want to see if Rudolph ate the carrots you laid out for him on the doorstep?”

Inés, completely ignoring the offered hand, starts running towards the front door whilst naming other reindeer too. It’s Texan Christmas, so there’s no point in putting on a jacket for going outside, and the sudden silence of the front door closing behind her and Javier makes you strike.

You let go of Lucas to get his present from under the tree, searching only briefly as if you’re choosing something random. There’s a point to this but you don’t want to take out the magic of the moment.

Lucas sits down on the floor as he is handed the gift. He doesn’t hesitate to tear its wrappings off, and when he throws it to the side, he gasps at the sight of his very own brand new Game Boy that you have wrapped along with a few games. It’s a strategic move to let him open it now; Inés won’t try to steal it in the middle of Christmas family time if she isn’t aware of him getting it.

“No way!” Lucas’ eyes are wide. He holds the Game Boy in its packaging in front of himself, not taking his eyes off of it in case it might disappear if he looks away, “Mom!”

“It’s the one you wanted, right?” You ask, rubbing his back and looking down at the cover over his shoulder, “Lord knows if I have a clue about what it does.”

“This is so cool,” he says, mostly to himself, and then looks up at you with a wide grin that reminds you that he is his father’s son, “Thanks, Mom!”

“But I need you to wait to use it till after Inés is done with her presents, okay? I know you’re excited but you’ll have the whole day, no?”

“Entiendo, (I understand),” he nods, getting up from the floor very carefully as he still has the Game Boy in his hands, “¿ Lo tengo que compartir? (do I have to share it?)

“You might have to share it sometimes but it’s yours first and foremost,” you say with a little smile, “I think Inés might just want to see you play and then you can let her try it a few times. If it’s too much, we’ll figure something out.”

Lucas hugs you then, tightly and lovingly. He buries his head in your stomach and he doesn’t have to say anything because you know exactly what he wants to say with his embrace. It’s enough to make you choke up a second time today.

When Javier and Inés return back inside the living room, Inés talking loudly, Javier gets a pair of scissors and a bag for the wrappings from the kitchen. You quickly add Lucas’ gift wrap to it to conceal any evidence of having started without Inés.

“Mom! Rudolph ate the carrots we laid out!” She beams.

“He didn’t!” You walk up to her to make it seem like you are listening even more actively. You lean down over her with your hands on your thighs, feeling Javier’s eyes on you as you bend over, “Oh boy, I’m glad you remembered to feed them so Santa could reach all the kids without them getting tired and hungry.”

“Can we open presents now?” She inquires, falling to her knees in front of the Christmas tree. She looks back at you, suddenly very serious, “Are there any presents for Sebastian?”

“Yes, Sebastian has a few presents too,” you reply.

It takes her a moment to think this fact over. She furrows her brow in concentration, going over the logistics of an infant opening Christmas gifts. Eventually, she stares at you and places a hand on her chest, “I— I will open Sebastian’s presents.”

You want to laugh and in the background, Javier actually does, “You can help Lucas open the presents for him.”

Lucas sits on the floor beside Inés but closer to the tree. He seems less anxious to begin now that he’s had a head start on his little sister so he reaches under the tree to find a present with her name on it, checking in with his father who nods and lets him proceed.

Inés eyes go wide as the gift is put down on the floor in front of her, and Javier moves to help her with cutting the ribbon. You take a seat on the couch to watch the scene unfold, her eyes practically sparkling with excitement as receives her first Christmas gift; a stuffed toy resembling a dinosaur that she keeps tucked under her arm during the whole thing.

The rest of the unwrapping session goes with you letting out a series of oohs and aahs as each toy, which you have picked out yourself at the toy store, is revealed. It’s all a blur of plastic and noises, cries for batteries and Javier shushing his daughter when her pitch climbs a little too high.

Lucas is in charge of handing out gifts, and you praise him for each card that he reads out loud successfully. Whenever he tries reaching for a certain gift for Inés, Javier shakes his head, and he moves on to the next despite the curiosity nearly killing him.

Steadily, both Inés and Lucas each have a growing pile of toys, clothes, and snacks beside them.

Lucas receives, amongst other things, a pair of light-up shoes that he has begged for months to get. He also gets a wooden tow truck with four magnetic cars and an unbelievable stack of Pokemon cards.

Inés gets a few puzzles, markers, a microphone that makes an echo when you speak into it (a toy that might just disappear out of the blue with no explanation), and a collection of animal stickers.

Lucas looks overwhelmed by the end. Inés looks far from done, so she is the one who gets to unwrap Sebastian’s new mobile with small UFOs and cows on it, a pair of cute shoes, and a hat to match.

Finally, Lucas gets the green light from his father to grab the mysterious present. He looks like someone who wants to tear off the paper so he can satisfy his curiosity but Inés is already beating him to it. There’s an anticipation of it being the final stages of the unwrapping process that hangs in the air, and everything is going well until your daughter crinkles her nose at the sight of what she has received from Santa.

“Mom,” she starts to say, cogs turning in her head. She turns to you, looking skeptical. Inside the package is a helmet, more specifically a bike helmet, in a soft green color with daisies painted onto it in a pattern not too harsh on the eyes.

Lucas catches on a little quicker, “She’s getting a bike?!”

“A bike!” Inés yells out, standing up quickly, “Where? Wherewherewhere?”

“Inés, por favor (please),” you can’t help but laugh at her excited shock, “Let Papá get it for you.”

And moments later, Javier wheels a bike, so tiny that it is cute, into the living room. Its color matches the green on her new helmet, and on the handles hang white tassels with yellow flecks of glitter in them. The also has training wheels on it but with the amount of unrelenting bravery and determination that Inés has for new things, you doubt that she will be needing them for long.

Inés has gone quiet as she stares at her new bicycle which is very much not like the one without pedals she has. She gapes at it and it makes you and Javier exchange looks. Javier shrugs.

“Inés,” you start but you are interrupted by your daughter’s infectious laughter. She jumps on the spot, yanking at the handle and pulling it towards herself. You let out a sigh of relief, warmth flooding your heart at hearing her.

“I want to try it now!” She demands, giggling happily as she runs her hands through the tassels.

“We can do it after breakfast, Daddy will take you out for a test drive,” you say, getting up from the couch to crouch down beside her. You admire the bike with her, continuing your reasoning when she starts to protest, “One should never try to learn how to ride a bike without having breakfast. Not even the coolest girls can do that.”

“I can!” She argues. In the background, Lucas turns his back to the three of you to sneak a peek at his Game Boy.

“Actually, mija (my daughter),” Javier interjects. He opens the box containing the biking helmet, pulls it out, and walks over to his daughter, “Bike racers need to try out their helmets for at least an hour or two to break them in and to make sure they fit. Imagine if you got onto the bike and your helmet wouldn’t let you ride it.”

Inés furrows her brow but doesn’t look like she’s about to argue with her father’s logic. She glances at the bike and then at the helmet in Javier’s hands, quickly coming to a decision.

“I want to wear the helmet!” She says.

“Excellent choice,” he replies and you snort.

Inés proudly wears the helmet a few seconds later. You wonder how you are going to get her dressed for going outside with it on her head but you suppose you’ll pass the task to Javier.

“Wait,” Lucas says suddenly, crawling underneath the tree to reach far underneath it. A small present rests along the foot of the tree, and he pulls it out only to find that there’s no card on it. He furrows his brow, “There’s one left.”

Inés looks nearly hungry for more.

Javier turns, obviously not expecting this.

“Actually,” you say and make Lucas hand it over. Holding the gift close to your chest, you walk up to Javier, “This one is for Daddy.”

“Me?” Javier looks puzzled but then he smirks, as if he has decided something that you aren’t a part of yet. You feel your heart skip a beat as all three of you catch onto the mischief in his eyes. If only you knew that mischief is just for you. He snatches the present from you and shakes it.

“It’s just something silly,” you say, “But it’s for work!”

Inés and Lucas are watching curiously, standing on their toes so they don’t miss anything.

“Rip it, Dad,” Lucas encourages.

“Yeah!” Inés chimes in, holding onto her helmet as she tips her head. You’ll have to adjust it.

“Alright, I’m gonna, I’m gonna,” he does as he is told, letting the wrapping paper fall into a pile on the floor, beside the garbage bag that he has brought himself, and reveals a hideous, rolled-up tie with a Christmas theme. It is dark red with tiny cartoon Christmas lights and trees, crisscrossing across the silky fabric. It’s ugly, for sure, but it makes Javier’s face light up like he can’t quite believe that he has reached this destination; a life of kids and silly Christmas presents, and exactly where he is supposed to be.

“That’s boring!” Inés complains.

“Mija (My daughter), that’s not very nice,” Javi tuts, smoothing a thumb over his present. He grins boyishly at you, and when he approaches you, he wraps an arm around your waist to give you a squeeze, “I love it.”

“You don’t have to wear it,” you reassure.

“I might just. The guys know I’m happily married to a catch like you so why shouldn’t I show it off?” He holds it up in front of himself, “How do I look?”

“Silly,” Inés argues. Lucas grimaces behind her.

You raise a brow, biting your lower lip as you grin, “You wouldn’t.”

“Sí. Gracias, mi amor (yes. Thank you, my love),” he kisses you in front of your kids, and both of them make disgusted faces. Inés even adds a gagging noise, saying something about cooties.

Javier doesn’t let go of you when he turns his head towards them. He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, “Hey, you behave or I might do it again.”

“No!” They shout in unison.

“I should’ve gotten you something,” Javier says as he turns towards you again. You shake your head but then you feel his hand on your back travel down, “Maybe later.”

Quickly, you pull back.

“Right,” you say, clasping your hands together and trying not to sound flustered, “Let’s say two hours tops. Then we’ll have breakfast together. Hot chocolate and all.”

When the gift rush comes to an end, Javier starts carrying all of the shiny new toys upstairs with a groan. He scolds gently as he has two tiny and enthusiastic humans bounding up the stairs, telling them to be careful.

Meanwhile, you head to the kitchen and turn on the radio. You place the baby monitor on the counter, humming along as you prepare a sugary breakfast that you always regret afterward when you have to endure two sugar-high children.

As you are toasting bread and filling bowls with candy canes and marshmallows, Javier enters the kitchen. You smile to yourself as he wraps his arms around you from behind, placing a kiss on your neck, “Morning. I put a movie on, so they’ll be occupied by that and their presents for a while now. Checked on Seb too, he’s fine.”

“That went well,” you say genuinely, “Don’t you think?”

“Mhm, the unwrapping? Definitely,” he murmurs against your ear, resting his forehead on your shoulder, “They didn’t even notice how I was staring at you.”

“How were you staring at me?” You ask, your heart fluttering in your chest.

“No particular way,” he teases and you try to concentrate on cutting fruit into smaller pieces.

In the background, a slow melody hums through the kitchen. Javier’s hands wander down to settle on your hips, and you finally allow yourself to let go of the knife, give in, and turn around in his arms.

“Merry Christmas,” you smile.

“Dance with me,” he replies.

You walk further into his embrace, linking your arm around his waist and resting your chin on his shoulder. He entwines your fingers and rubs the back of your hand with his thumb as he sways with you in time with the song on the radio.

As he moves you, your heads lean together, cheeks touching gently, and he radiates warmth and security. It makes you close your eyes and sigh softly, allowing yourself to be transported into a fantasy where you aren’t just wearing your underwear and a washed-out t-shirt.

The hand that isn’t holding yours rests on your lower back, pulling you in after he twirls you once. You giggle when he beams at you but then you resume the first position, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, slowly turning, whilst Javier’s mouth rests just below your temple.

And then you feel his nose brush against the side of your face as if he is starting to pull away, and a desperate voice inside of you wants to protest but the logical one tells you to go with the flow. The tip of his nose is warm even against your flushing skin, and by instinct, you pull away slightly to admire the gorgeous curve of it up close. Javier interrupts by kissing you instead. He captures your lips in the most drawn-out hot kiss, pouring with desire and devotion.

“Tell me you love me like I love you,” you plea breathlessly.

“I love you like you love me,” he tells you without hesitation, squeezing your hand, “Y les quiero a Lucas y Inés y Sebastian (and I love Lucas and Inés and Sebastian).”

You respond by kissing him again, just about to slide your tongue across his lips and into his mouth when the song ends.

He reluctantly lets go of you. However, instead of helping you cook breakfast, he starts moving things from one side of the kitchen table to the other; out of your reach.

“Javi, what are you doing?” You start to protest.

“Let’s make another,” he suddenly says.

“Another?” You furrow your brow in confusion.

“A fourth one,” he explains as he stands in front of you, making you bump into the counter, “Un bebito (a little baby). Right now.”

“Jesus, Javi,” you can feel his fingers dig into the waistband of your underwear. Blood goes to your core incredibly fast, “Sebastian is four months old.”

“If we start trying now…” His fingers start dragging the fabric down over your ass and thighs, “We’ll have one by next Christmas.”

“We can’t go at it right here,” you scold but don’t try to stop him. Instead, you step out of your underwear as they pool around your feet.

“I told you,” he reminds you, already sinking to his knees with a self-satisfied look on his face, “That I put on a movie. They won’t even hear you.”

You lean your ass against the counter and then dare to hook a leg over his shoulder whilst balancing on the other. One hand grips the edge of the counter and the other rests on top of his hair, fingers threading through it as you wait patiently for him to put his mouth on you.

“This your present then?” You tease him, yanking to make him look up at you.

“I think we’re both getting too much out of it to call it your present,” he points out. His eyes go down to stare right between your thighs and you find yourself clenching around nothing as arousal threatens to drip down your thighs, “Joder (fuck), look at you. Can I have it now?”

“Y-yeah,” you stutter. Your teasing has ceased after hearing him swear from just watching your quivering pussy. You swallow thickly, a breath hitching in your throat as Javier’s hand slides up the back of the leg you are standing on until it rests on the back of your thigh. He squeezes and you hold your breath, “Please.”

He looks up at you through his lashes, no mischief to be found but rather absolute worship, as he closes his mouth around you, velvety tongue sliding between your folds to lap at your clit. You tighten the grip on his hair as heat flows through your lower body, your mouth falling open in a soft gasp.

“I can’t stand still,” you half-laugh whilst he eats you. Each pulse of your heart can be felt in your clit, which he sucks and laps at until you can’t breathe. He knows how to make you come so fast that blood drains from your head to your cunt and thighs and makes you keen.

“Then don’t, mi amor (my love),” he says matter-of-factly as he pulls back to breathe, hair a mess and chin shiny with your slick, “Fuck yourself onto me, Momma, I know you love that.”

You instantly curl your toes at the suggestion. Javier dives back in, lowers his head slightly to tease your slit with the tip of his filthy tongue. God, the way he can roll those Rs, calling you his love in his mother tongue, translates so well into this. Coming on his face from your own doing? Yes, that’s exactly what you want.

Without thinking it over much more, you tighten the leg that you slung over Javier’s shoulder earlier around him. With a hand in his hair and the other one tightly around the edge of the kitchen table, you move until Javier’s tongue is sliding inside of you and his nose catches your clit. It sends pleasure rocking down your spine, your pulse spiking instantly as you start working yourself toward orgasm.

“Fuck,” you groan while moving on him, rolling your hips. Your balance is off like this but Javier slides the hand on your thigh up to splay his palm across your side. You lean your body’s weight into his hand and use the support to press harder into his nose, feeling the flutters of an orgasm approaching as the curve of it slides up and down your clit just as you would do it if you were touching yourself, “I’m gonna- ah, gonna come. Fuck, you make me come so hard! Ah–”

Javier makes a satisfied noise against you, stiffening his tongue to let you use it even more. You don’t even need to have him speaking, know that he would tell you to give it to me, and when you finally tip over the edge, you feel him pulling your hand from the kitchen table to entwine your fingers.

“Fuck, Javi, fuckfuckfuck, baby, don’t stop,” you pant, squeezing his hand so hard that a fleeting thought makes you worry if you might break bone. You ride his tongue, his nose, and come so hard that you make him whimper as you pull at his hair.

He doesn’t let you go when it dies down. Instead, he slowly rises from the floor and lifts you along with him due to your leg still being slung over his shoulder and back. His mouth doesn’t leave you, even when he falters briefly, as he settles you down on the counter.

You want to scream but even a movie cannot drown out the noise building in your throat, so you cover your mouth with your free hand. Something besides you falls over, you knock your head into the kitchen cabinets and whereas Javier would’ve checked in on you, he eats your cunt so enthusiastically that you can feel your body wanting to come again.

The whine you let out is sinful with how much you struggle to muffle it. You reach for Javier’s hair but he catches your wrist and pins it down against the tabletop. When you try to reach for it again, this time with your other hand, he does the same until you can’t take the slightest bit of control.

He makes you come again in less than a minute. It is earth-shattering, causing you to throw your head back and bump it into the cabinet once more. You thrash and cry, burning with pleasure as he hollows his cheeks from sucking your clit.

You start giggling from the dopamine, knowing it’s a better way to get out noise than crying for him. Your legs twitch as he devours the wetness you spill into his mouth.

Finally, he removes his mouth from your sticky mess of a cunt and kisses up under your loose t-shirt until you can’t see his face anymore. He smears your slick across your belly, resting his head just above your belly button, and chuckles.

“You’re so,” you begin but you don’t know how to finish the sentence. He lets you move your hands again and you proceed to pet the top of his head through the fabric of your shirt.

“Sexy? Devoted? ¿Loco por ti (crazy about you)?” His breathing is uneven.

“I was going to call you a goof,” you correct him, lifting the shirt up to reveal him again. When he lifts his head to roll his eyes at you, you use the hem of your shirt to wipe his mouth and thus make him grimace.

“What a mom-move,” he teases.

“Shut up,” you laugh.

“I did mean it,” he adds, stretching and placing a palm on the counter on either side of your body, “I’ll cut down on work. I’ll be home more with you and the kids. Just until everything falls into place. We could get a babysitter.”

“Javi—“

“I think it could work,” he interrupts, “And if we want any more - kids, I mean - I feel like we should do it now and not wait.”

“Javi,” you reach up to cup his face gently. There’s no need for this conversation now, and there’s no doubt that you want to give him many more children if he wants. Technicalities can be discussed further down the road, and Inés is somewhat already counting for two kids so how should you not be able to handle a fourth? You kiss his lips, keeping your noses touching when you pull back again, “Just fuck me, baby. We can talk about it later.”

“Right,” he blinks his puppy eyes away.

You hungrily watch him pull his cock free from his boxers before stepping between your legs which you wrap around his waist, pulling him closer and moving yourself forward to the edge of the kitchen table. You are itching to feel him inside of you, your body feeling like it is missing something after going this long since you started to feel turned on.

“Please,” you whine.

“Relax,” he orders simply as he aligns his hips with yours. The sweet voice from before is gone and there’s no doubt that he’ll start speaking filth soon. You obey and go back to leaning against the cabinets, eyes half-lidded with lust as he runs the head of his cock through your folds in a way that has you whimpering with how sensitive you are.

When you get impatient, you reach down to guide the tip where you want it and shudder as he dips inside of you. He holds your gaze but as you want to look down at where the two of you are connected, he reaches for your chin with a shaky hand. You pant, eyes looking up as he forces your head up again.

“That’s it,” he praises, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger while moving forward and pushing into you. Your brows furrow at the stretch of your sensitive cunt but you still manage to hold his gaze despite wanting to close your eyes, and it earns you another praise, “Good girl, thaaat’s it, you focus on me, focus right here.”

When you smile sweetly at his words, he starts moving inside of you. The first roll of his hips makes your mind go blank and your noises climb in pitch. He fucks you against the counter, broad hands sliding up the back of your thighs to rest against the small of your back. It’s relentless, it’s desperate and it’s incredibly hot.

You settle your hands on his biceps, holding on for dear life as he thrusts hard enough to make your touching skin smack with each movement. You look up at the ceiling briefly, wondering if the moans you are letting out can be heard by your kids because Javier’s cock is hitting something inside of you that makes you want to sob.

“El ruido (the noise)— shit, d-don’t worry about it,” Javier notices your mind drifting to concern, and so he slows down slightly to catch your attention. He kisses your lips between each word and drinks each noise you make from your mouth, “You sound so beautiful for me, amor. Forget about them, they’re fine.”

You nod repeatedly, whining feeble okays when he goes back to the harder thrusts from before, making you grab at his muscles until it’s not enough anymore and you have to dig your nails into them. His harshness makes your full tits bounce underneath the t-shirt too, and you let them until you know what’s coming; the happy chemicals in your body provoke it so often this time around.

You cover your breasts with your palms and squeeze until you feel your pussy flutter, somehow creating a direct line to your pulsing, untouched clit. You follow it up by tugging slightly on your nipples too, all the while you repeat Javier’s name as if to get his attention, as if to say it in prayer. His gaze drops and his eyes nearly roll back into his skull as you start soaking through your shirt with milk.

“You filthy girl,” he growls, “Pull it up for me. Lemme see.”

“Fuck, I— I think I’m close,” you half-moan and half-giggle, yanking your t-shirt up and watching the steady trickle of your milk. The way that Javier watches makes your cunt want to pull him in further but you don’t think he can go any deeper, so instead you hold him tightly with your legs so he can only grind roughly into you.

Your stomach flips as Javier’s expert tongue laps at a trail of milk. He sucks along the streak it has already made until he can close his lips, swollen from kisses, around your nipple. When he sucks, you almost cry for your maker and you swear that you can hear how much wetter you get.

“Where was this for my cookies last night, huh, Momma?” He asks with milk-stained lips and a smirk, cock touching inside of you just how you want it.

“You’re so - fuck, baby, I’m gonna come soon - you’re so gross,” your eyes close, your belly tightens and so you concentrate to get there, “What wouldn’t Santa think? Cookies and breast milk?”

Javier laughs genuinely at that and you moan at the feeling of him being inside of you whilst doing it. He shifts so that his hands end up flat against the counter, underneath your knees, and he can lean into you further, “Watch it. Maybe Santa’s a kinky fucker like your husband.”

“My husband,” you repeat as if it’s turning you on just to refer to him like that. Even after years.

“Fuck yes, I’m your husband. Wife,” Javier aims to kiss you hard but the strain on his body to make you come makes him press his lips to your jaw. He continues upwards, mouthing along your chin and cheek. He speaks with ragged breath into the corner of your open mouth.

“Listen to you,” he pants as you reel with pleasure, sweat collecting at his brow. He is concentrating too but he still manages to tease, “Who are you making those pretty noises for?”

“Para tí (for you),” you moan with furrowed eyebrows, “Sólo para tí, Javi (only for you, Javi).”

“I know— fuck, I know, baby, oh fuck, I can feel you,” he gasps as you clench around him without warning. Everything snaps and then launches into overwhelming spasms that overtake your whole lower body, clenching and unclenching in waves of pleasure. You sob as you come a third time this morning, arms falling to the counter and thighs trembling as you ride it out.

Javier looks like he is in awe as he always does. His pace picks up to near his own peak, and he kisses your mouth before going down your chin, neck, and shoulder, “You’re going to be the death of me, mi amor. You and this pretty pussy… So good at taking my come and making me a Papá.”

You can only cry feebly as he drives his cock in and out of you. The sound sends him into a frenzy, and he makes you whimper at the feeling of him coming inside of your cunt. He twitches with oversensitivity and pulses with each spurt of his warm seed, his breath is shaky and his forehead is against yours. His skin is burning hot, flushing with the way that his heart is hammering in his chest as he contorts his face with a groan of pleasure. It goes on for a moment until he slumps, head falling to your shoulder instead.

Javier chuckles against the damp and hot skin of your neck from dopamine, pressing a long open-mouthed kiss to it and glancing down at your chest that still heaves for breath. Your gray shirt still sits above your tits and it clings to your body from how it’s been soaked through by your milk. Javier reaches out to circle a flushed nipple with the pad of his thumb, causing your body to shiver.

“Stop,” you moan through post-coital bliss, not able to do much but rest against the kitchen cabinets. It almost feels like you want to cry in his arms, “Too sensitive.”

Javier removes his hand, “Sorry, mi vida (my life). You okay?”

“Mejoramos cada vez, ¿no? (We get better each time, no?)” You smile lazily.

He hums in response, agreeing. With his palms flat on the counter, he catches your mouth in a long kiss and you reach up to cup the back of his head. The hair there is sweaty, creating a patch on his shirt right around his neck.

You want to drown in him, not letting him pull all the way back when he breaks the kiss for air. He rests his nose against your cheek and exhales deeply, “We can’t stay here forever. I gotta fucking sit down too.”

“I need to finish breakfast,” you mumble with your eyes closed as if you’re in the state of being able to do that.

“What you need is a shower,” Javier laughs, kissing the corner of your mouth. He sighs deeply as he stretches to his full height, stepping away from you to let you jump down, “I’ll finish up here. Disinfect the counter, maybe. Then I’ll shower after you.”

You look at the clock on the kitchen wall before hopping down, “We have a little more than an hour.”

“Think we can manage,” he shrugs.

You put on the underwear that Javier discarded you of earlier, snapping the elastic as you pull them up over your hips. Javier grins at you, not hiding the way that he is eyeing you up as he puts on his own underwear.

“Wash your hands too, yes?” You tease, leaving him in the kitchen to watch your ass when your back is turned.

“Yes, Mom,” he calls after you.

You try to ignore the feeling of come dripping into your panties as you walk up the stairs, grimacing to yourself and quickly throwing them in the wash along with your shirt when you get into the bathroom.

The shower spray feels amazing against your skin but nothing feels as good as when you hear Javier talking to Sebastian further down the hall as he gets him out of bed. Even better when you hear him burst the door open to the kids’ playroom, Inés giggling and Lucas following behind as he makes a remark about them being up to something.

“Who wants to help me and Sebastian make pancakes?” Javier asks. When you close your eyes, you can see Inés and Lucas’ hands shoot up and then you hurry to finish so you can join them as soon as possible. You’ve never given it any real thought but you find that you, too, are exactly where you’re supposed to be.

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