📄 𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
Carlos Oliveira x Fem!Reader
𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐂𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐖: Married couple, wife!Reader, teasing, water fights, SMUTTT, vaginal fingering, PiV sex, cock drunk, soreness after sex. Minors DNI 🔞
𝐀/𝐍: This is just an extension to this little blurb lol. Had Megan playing in my head while writing this 😩
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: An unfinished sink of dishes. A forgotten basket of laundry. A husband who refuses to leave his wife alone for more than five minutes. Living with Carlos means accepting that chores rarely stay chores for very long.
The kitchen had settled into a comfortable quiet as the evening sank deeper into the night. The only sounds left were the steady rush of running water and the gentle clink of porcelain as you rinsed another plate and set it beside the sink to drain.
You heard your husband’s footsteps before you felt him. Broad arms slipped around your waist, drawing you back against his firm chest. A warmth settled between your shoulder blades as his lips brushed the side of your neck before planting a soft kiss.
Carlos never had to move quietly around you. Years ago, he would move with stealth whenever he went. Every step had been measured and every corner was approached with caution.
Home was different. It meant he could announce himself with heavy footsteps, wrap himself around you without a second thought and know that the only thing waiting for him was your quiet laugh instead of danger.
You caught the familiar lingering scent of soap and clean cotton from him. It was a simple smell, yet you had grown to love it. Long gone were the days when gun oil, ammunition and smoke seemed woven into every thread of his clothes that refused to wash away no matter how many times they were scrubbed.
This felt like a breath of fresh air and suited him far better.
“Are the dishes done yet?” he murmured against your neck, his beard tickling your bare skin with every word.
“Barely half done.”
By now, you were used to Carlos’ habit of seeking you out whenever the two of you were home, especially when you were in the middle of chores. The pleading tone no longer worked quite well as he hoped.
Carlos sighed dramatically before planting another kiss.
“Can’t you take a break?”
He was aware it was a pointless question to ask… You hated leaving dishes until morning. Waking up to a sink full of dirty dishes from last night's dinner was enough to sour the start of your day. So you’d always rather finish them before bed, no matter how full or tired you were.
Tonight’s dinner had left more behind than usual. Pots, trays and serving bowls. It would take a little longer to get it all done.
“You know,” you said, handing him a wet plate, “you could help, and we’d be done in half the time.”
Carlos laughed softly against your shoulder, already calling defeat.
“Alright, alright. I’ll help.”
He stepped away, moving to the side of the sink and reaching automatically for a tea towel. Even while drying dishes, he couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself.
You would feel a gentle bump of his shoulder against your side or his fingers brushing yours as you hand him another plate to dry.
Small touches that said exactly what words didn’t. Almost like he was making sure you wouldn’t forget his presence.
The rhythm of washing and drying settled in once more. Water ran steadily from the tap. Plates and glasses clinking against one another before disappearing into Carlos’ waiting hands.
Neither of you felt the need to fill the silence. It was the kind that came with regular routines.
Maybe that was exactly why the thought hatched in your head.
As you passed him another plate, your fingers hovered beneath the running tap for just a second longer. Without warning, you flicked a spray of water in his direction.
You smiled deviously when a few droplets landed across his cheek.
Carlos halted, turning to look at you, eyes widening in exaggerated disbelief as a hand drifted dramatically to his chest.
“… You wound me.”
You bit back a laugh. “It was barely a splash.”
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, his plan mulling in his head.
“So…” he said, setting the plate and towel aside with suspicious calm. “That’s how it’s gonna be now?”
Before you could respond, he scooped up a handful of water and flicked it towards you. Cold droplets splashed across your face.
You flinched as you felt the water hit you instantly.
“Hey—”
Water trickled down your cheek and beneath your collar as Carlos laughed without any remorse.
“You started this.”
“I literally sprinkled water on you,” you protested. “You summoned a whole tsunami!”
He tilted his head, pretending to consider that.
“Do you want to see a real tsunami?”
The mischievous look in his eyes was a warning.
You were too afraid to ask what he meant and before you could get a word out, his hand disappeared beneath the stream again.
You barely had time to process before another splash of water hit you full force, soaking the front of your shirt.
“Carlos-!” you gasped before letting out a shocked laugh.
“No take-backs,” he declared, entirely too pleased with himself.
Closing the distance in two easy strides, he backed you gently against the counter, wearing the unmistakable grin of a man who believed he already won.
“Can’t escape now…”
You blink up at him, amused.
“Is that right?”
He nodded. “Mm-hmm”
“And you’ve considered every possible outcome?”
“Every single one.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling too hard.
Unfortunately for him, he’d forgotten the sink was directly behind you. Keeping your expression carefully innocent, you reached behind your back until your fingers found the sponge.
The whole time, Carlos didn’t notice. Not until you brought the sponge in front of you and squeezed. A stream of warm, soapy water poured straight in front of his shirt.
Carlos took a few steps back, his eyes darting between his shirt and the sponge in your hand.
“… Fuck.”
His soaked t-shirt was clinging to his skin now, the outline of his muscles across his abdomen more defined beneath the damp fabric. The wet cotton accentuated the broadness of his chest and shoulders.
You barely had the chance to appreciate your husband’s physique before he scooped you up effortlessly and slung you over his shoulder like a sack of flour, laughing all the while.
“Carlos!”
Despite your protest, he carried you out of the kitchen, leaving damp footprints across the floor. Both of you were still soaking from your water fight.
“You wanna play dirty? Fine. But now you’re stuck with me,” he declared triumphantly as he marched toward the couch.
“Wait—”
You squirmed in his arms but it was futile. He paid no mind to your protest, continuing his victory march into the living room.
With an exaggerated flop, he threw himself onto the couch with a soft thud before carefully settling you onto his lap, your legs naturally falling on either side of him.
You could already tell from the look on his face and the unmistakable glint in his eyes that Carlos was planning something. The couch wasn’t a punishment here, it was simply the beginning of the next round.
Not only was the soapy sponge that set something in him, but seeing the smug smile you wore afterwards made him feel obliged to get even with you.
Carlos knew he was stronger than you, and in moments like these he’d deliberately hold back just enough to make it a challenge. Winning wasn’t nearly as satisfying if you never stood a fighting chance. Besides, the competition was half the fun.
You’d always admired the way his face lit up during your little play fights, the teasing grin that replaced the hardened expression he’d once worn almost every day.
It felt like eons ago you’ve been introduced to the mercenary side to him who lived by discipline, instinct and survival. Now, you had the privilege of knowing the man beneath it all. The one who could laugh until his stomach hurt over something as ridiculous as a kitchen water fight.
“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered.
Carlos looked entirely unapologetic, far too pleased with himself.
He leaned in and captured your lips in a slow, deep kiss, warm and lingering. When he finally pulls back just an inch, his thumb brushes over your bottom lip tenderly.
“Unbelievable yours,” he corrected.
You gave a lighthearted scoff at his words, even though you weren’t about to admit that his terrible jokes were adorable. Especially after he kissed you like that.
He pressed another kiss to the corner of your mouth, the warmth of his lips almost enough to draw a sigh from you. Then he continued, leaving trails of gentle kisses from your cheek to your jaw. His beard grazed your skin, leaving behind a pleasant tingle, a contrast to the tenderness behind each kiss.
Finally, he found his way to your neck, navigating to your most sensitive spot he knew always made you shiver. But you still had your senses and you put two and two together when you figured out where this was heading.
“The dishes aren’t done…” The weakness in your voice overshadowed your conviction.
Carlos only chuckled softly against your neck.
“The dishes can wait,” he whispered. “You’re the only thing I’m interested in now.”
Normally you would argue back and put your foot down. You were always strict about finishing chores before winding down. But with his hands resting at your sides and his kisses, you found you didn’t quite have the willpower to protest.
His hands trailed lower until they reached the hem of your shirt. You felt them slip beneath the damp fabric, his rough hands gliding over your skin before carefully lifting the shirt over your head.
Since you were already bra-less, the water from earlier had seeped through the fabric, leaving your skin cool and damp. Exposed to the open air, a faint chill came over you.
“God, you’re so gorgeous,” Carlos husked, his gaze sweeping from your bare chest to your eyes.
You bit your lower lip, suddenly finding it much harder to hold his gaze. Compliments from Carlos still had a way of unravelling you, no matter how many times he’d said them.
One hand enclosed around your breast, kneading it in his palm. His thumb brushed over the hardened peak of your nipple, sending a shiver through you.
Before long, he positioned himself until he was on top of you, with your back against the couch. His shirt was also still damp from earlier, clinging slightly from where it never had the chance to dry.
He was closer and the position you were in made it impossible to steer his attention away from you. That thought made you self-conscious for a moment, though it quickly faded when you met his gaze. There was still familiarity and warmth in there, softened now beneath the cockiness moments before.
Back when you were still pining for each other, Carlos would look at you like you were the golden rays of sunlight peaking through the windows. A light out of place in a world that’s ruined by chaos and biohazards.
Even now, years later and married, he would still look at you with the same admiration and smile. Now there was something different in it too. Like he finally had you where he was always meant to.
“You know… I still think I won.”
Of course he would drag that in the middle of a steamy moment together.
You titled your head, deliberately acting evasive.
“Won what?”
“The water fight.”
“You literally walked away soaked from the sponge.”
“Details.”
He reached lower until his fingertips reached the waistband of your shorts. They were removed swiftly, leaving you in just your underwear now. He then toyed with your arousal.
The wetness from your cunt soaked through your undies, making it slick under his touch. A moment later, he hooked his fingers to the waistband of your undies and tugged them down.
You looked down, watching the strands of your wetness stretched and thinned between the candied fabric and your dewy folds. Your undies were dragged past your knees, the elastic of the waistband relaxed as it passed your calf until they were fully removed and discarded to the side.
Now, the bare sight of you belonged to nobody but him tonight. The open air brushed over your wetness, exposing how much this was having an effect on your libido.
“So wet for me, baby,” he murmured, though it sounded more like a taunt.
His fingers brush feather-light against your petal folds, gathering your wetness on the pad of his fingers before easing the lips apart with a slick sound.
Sinking one finger in, your walls pulled him in eagerly. His thick digits stretching out your core was enough to leave you gasping, momentarily forgetting about the dishes from earlier.
You were so wet already, much to your embarrassment, that he dragged his finger in and out with fluidity.
Carlos chuckled, a smug smirk on his face as he added a second finger into your slick heat. His thumb found your clit, rubbing against it with dexterity.
You couldn’t keep your mouth shut now, breathless moans and prayers of his name left your lips as your head fell back onto the couch.
“My wife is so, so responsive,” he gloated.
“Shut up…”
Despite your defiance, you found yourself gripping the cushion beside you, a wave of pleasure washing over you and making your body sing.
Then, as you absentmindedly lolled your head, your eyes landed on the laundry basket sitting at the other end of the living room.
A pile of clothes staring back at you. The moment snapped abruptly.
“Did you not do the laundry this morning?” you asked suddenly.
He halted, fingers still halfway inside you. For a second, he glanced back at the laundry basket like it betrayed him before his eyes landed back on you.
“Uh…” He cleared his throat. “No, I didn’t get around to do the laundry.
He trailed off, realising he’s not making any excuses for himself. But he refused to let a pile of clothes cockblock him right when he knew you were so close to the height of your peak.
His fingers began moving again, as if trying to make up for his lack of domestic duty.
“Carlos-”
You felt them curl inside you, knuckles-deep. Just the way you liked, the perfect pace and angle, reaching the sweet spot that made you see stars.
Fuck.
You began to squirm beneath him, clinging stubbornly to the last thread of resolve. You were determined to stay annoyed with him for skipping the laundry that morning.
But it was becoming increasingly difficult, especially when Carlos changed the pace of his fingers inside you.
“Look, I’m sorry,” he says with a sheepish smile. “I’ll get it done first thing tomorrow. For now, can we… focus on this?”
Your frustration began to unravel little by little, and Carlos seemed to notice. The faintly guilty look he had worn moments ago gave way to the tiniest bit of satisfaction when you trembled again, as though he knew exactly how close you were to giving in.
“Don’t— hah—” you managed, your voice betraying you far more than you liked. "Don't try and make me forget about it—ah…”
He leaned up to plant a soft, apologetic kiss on your lips. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” he murmured against your mouth.
His fingers continued to move, pushing into your silky walls like he was trying to make amends. He didn’t forget to give your clit attention too, giving it gentle circles with his thumb.
You still tried to stand your ground, however. Even though his touch was sending you up the walls. The frustration seemed to mount to that.
“Hmph.”
Your little huff didn’t go unnoticed by Carlos. With his free hand, he reached up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing tenderly along your jaw.
“Please, meu amor,” he murmured. “Let me make it up to you.”
The sudden Portuguese pet name felt like a new dangerous territory that Carlos was willing to step into.
It wasn’t anything new, you’ve heard Carlos slip into Portuguese countless times before. Whether he was muttering to himself or speaking without thinking. Every now and then he would call you pet names in his mother tongue. But never often.
It was never his default. He reserved those words for the moments that truly mattered, when he was comforting you, reassuring you, or reminding you just how much you mean to him.
The fact that he was using it with you now really shows how sincere he was. You pretended to consider his offer for a moment longer before finally speaking.
“Show me how sorry you are,” you said.
Relief melted the tension in Carlos’ expression the instant the words left your mouth. Without another word, he gently pulled his fingers from your cunt, your walls fluttering from the withdrawal.
He rose from the couch and effortlessly scooped you into his arms before carrying you toward the bedroom.
You suddenly became hyperaware that you were the only one without clothes on, the open air brushing lightly against your skin. It was only a short walk, and before you knew it he set you down on the bed with a gentleness that surprised you, as though you were something precious.
His hand found your cheek one more, brushing it with the same tenderness as before. There was an unmistakable fiery glint in his eyes, the same ones you would always notice before he would make you forget about everything but him.
“I’m gonna fuck you so good, you won’t even remember that I forgot about the laundry.”
A laugh nearly escaped you at that. Trust Carlos to say something so filthy while touching you with a softness that felt like silk.
“That’ll take a lot of work,” you joked.
Carlos only grinned, suddenly looking determined.
“Oh, trust me, baby,” he said lowly. “I’m up for the challenge.”
And you were going to take his word for it.
You watched as he hooked a hand beneath the collar of his shirt and pulled it over his head in one smooth motion.
Even after leaving his mercenary life behind, he still maintained his physique. His strength had simply become a part of who he was.
It made carrying heavy shopping bags effortless, moving furniture a one-person job, and more often than not, he would insist on doing the heavier tasks before you even had the chance to ask.
His body spoke endurance more than vanity.
You’ve seen him shirtless many times throughout your marriage. Your fingertips had traced the familiar contours of his frame, your nails scratched over the surface so often that you could map them out even with your eyes closed.
He looked no less beautiful than the first time you’ve seen him.
Dark hair dusted the centre of his chest before tapering naturally down his torso, a feature you’ve absentmindedly ran your fingers through more time than you could count. It was another part of him you’ve come to know by heart.
He pushed his pants down his legs, kicking them off to the side. His thighs were another impressive feature that you couldn’t get enough of. You could see the lines of each muscle, the way they naturally defined the shape of his legs.
It made his thighs look broad and strong.
You remembered the first time you sat on his lap, feeling how firm the muscles beneath you were and how secure you felt sitting so close to him.
His boxers do nothing to conceal his throbbing erection, the outline straining against the fabric. They were the final article of clothing to come off.
His cock was released and twitched slightly from the lack of attention. It hung out half-mast with veins lined mapping the skin. The broad head was starting to leak from pent up precum. He climbed onto the bed from the foot, his frame carrying a quiet confidence.
A thought suddenly occurred to you when you recalled Carlos’ Portuguese nickname from earlier.
“I’ve always wondered…" you began.
Carlos was still near your legs at the end of the bed. He glanced back at you, pausing.
“Wondered what?”
“How many languages can you speak?” you asked softly.
Carlos looked pleasantly surprised by the unexpected question, tilting his head ever so slightly.
“That’s what you’re thinking about right now?”
“You did just speak Portuguese just a minute ago,”
He let out a laugh, subconsciously running a hand along your thigh.
“Okay, okay fair enough.” He smiled. “I grew up speaking English and Portuguese. I speak fluent Spanish too. And during my training, I picked up a few words of French, German and Russian.”
You imagined what that would sound like, Carlos speaking in different languages, slipping effortlessly between accents. He’d always been a quick learner. If anyone could pick up another language with ease, it would be him.
“Ok, Mr Worldwide,” you teased.
“Yeah, yeah, okay smart ass,” he replied with mock offence, failing to hide his amusement in his voice.
His hands trailed upward until they rested at your hips, his hold settling a little more firmly.
“It comes with the territory.”
He paused before moving closer.
“But…” He climbed further onto the bed until he was hovering above you.
Two broad arms braced either side of you against the mattress. What really made you shiver was that you felt his hard cock sandwiched between the both of you.
“Out of all the languages I speak there’s only one I care about.”
“If you say your love language I will spank you,” you warned.
Carlos barked out a laugh, clearly finding your threat amusing, completely unaware that you were being serious.
“Oh really?” he mused, a glimmer of a challenge in his voice. “I’d love to see you try.”
Without another word, you reached behind him. One hand found the curve of his ass and gave it an unapologetic squeeze.
“Don’t test me.”
Carlos jolted, clearly not expecting you to actually follow through with your words.
“Jesus—” he spluttered. “You’re really full of surprises.”
His grip on your sides tightened as he leaned closer, until barely an inch separated the two of you. Then he closed the remaining distance between you, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His tongue slided into your mouth, tangling with yours, as his hands continued to explore your body.
Your hands naturally found their way up his arms, fingers curling around his biceps before loosely wrapping around his neck.
“You’re so corny…” you murmured with a smile as he finally pulled back just enough to meet your eyes.
“You know you love it.” He gives your sides a squeeze in return. “Can’t resist my charms.”
As much as you wanted to argue, you couldn’t. Carlos always had a way with words. Somehow, his easy confidence paired with that unmistakable softness never failed to chip away at your resolve until whatever annoyance you’d been holding onto simply melted away.
His tip dragged across your abdomen as he pulled away from you, positioning himself between your knees.
He pressed you closer, sliding his cock up and down between your folds and coating himself in your slick. After some readjusting, a roll of his hips found purchase and the blunt head of his cock pushed into your soaked cunt.
Carlos cleaved deeper. Dark brows furrowed and his face screwed up in bliss. Above you, his muscles flexed, his abs clenching and biceps bulging, as he drove further into you.
He filled you so well and deep that your eyes almost rolled back. Once he bottomed out, he paused, giving you a moment to feel his cock twitch inside you before he finally let out a slow breath.
Carlos then dragged himself back, slow enough for you to feel every ridge and contour against your walls. When he rolled his hips again, his dick filled you with a lewd slap this time. Each penetration was more pleasurable than the last.
Your clit throbbed with each deliberate press of his pelvic bone. Once your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, he increased his pace. Ripples of heat crawled up your spine from the familiarity of him.
“Fuck— you’re incredible,” you moaned helplessly.
Your words seemed to get straight into his head when you saw a feral grin spreading across his flushed face.
“Damn right I am,” he growled. Cocky, even mid-fuck. He slammed into you especially hard to emphasise his point.
“Ah— don’t— don’t get cocky now.”
Carlos laughed while still pounding into you, because of course your sass was still amusing in the midst of things.
“Too late,” he teased, sucking your lower lips.
His next thrust was deliberately slow and deep, a filthy grind that made sure every inch of him rubbed against that sweet spot inside you. He gave you a few more slow strokes with his dick.
And then, he paused to angle your legs higher. He braced one arm on the bed, while the other slid under your lower back so your hips met every push.
Suddenly he piston his hips into your cunt at a relentless pace, the bed creaking in protest from his thrusts. You could’ve sworn you felt him hitting your gut.
Everything he was giving you was mind-numbing. All you could vocalise out were messy moans and broken fragments of his name.
The bedspring creaked and the headboard began rhythmically banging against the wall.
You grew limp beneath him, digging your nails into his back before dragging them down. You were sure it would leave marks on there later.
“Look at you,” he murmured, completely satisfied by his own doing. “So fucking gone for me.”
Sweat dripped down from his brow and his chest. He watched your face unravel with every thrust from his cock, and it was the most delightful sight he’d ever seen.
Your lips were parted, heavy with your moans.
Cock drunk.
It fueled him.
“You want it? You want me to fill you up, baby?” His pace stuttered for a moment before you felt another harsh snap of his hips. “Don’t lie. I can feel you clenching around me.”
You didn’t get to answer, your body did it for you.
Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, sharp and overwhelming and you cried out in pure ecstasy, raw and unfiltered. An explosion of colours unravelled beneath your eyelids. Your walls squeezed around him hard enough to make him spew out profanities and curses.
Yet he still fucked you through it, his control wavering as he chased his own release. Your eyes fluttered as you tried to recollect yourself from your fresh orgasm.
“So…. Fuck… so close. Take it—”
He pressed inside you so deep you swore he was in your ribs spilling with a broken groan, holding you down while his hips jerked against yours.
His cum was almost scorching, a flood that you could feel in every crevice of your womb. It wasn’t long until you felt his dick soften inside you before he eased off you. You could feel your combined releases dripping out of you, between your thighs down onto the sheets.
For a moment, you were both boneless and basking in the afterglow. Carlos' cheek rested on the mattress, right beside your neck. His body twitched and flexed, lost in the post-coital bliss.
With the remaining strength you had, you pressed a hand to his sweat-slick back, your palm slowly tracing over warm skin. Carlos answered by smothering a few kisses on your neck, his beard grazing against your skin.
Eventually, he raised himself on his elbows and eased some of his weight off you. You were still out of it, floating between exhaustion and ecstasy, your mind fogged up from your rapture as you stared blankly into space.
You barely registered Carlos’ hand stroking your face, admiring how spent you looked.
“You still with me?”
Your mind was going in and out of focus, still struggling to keep up with the present. But you managed to pick up on Carlos’ words.
“What… I don’t even know what planet I’m on,” you droned.
Carlos laughed softly, the sound warm enough to coax you back.
“Welcome back to earth… whenever,” he teased softly.
He shifted just enough to roll on his side while keeping an arm securely around you. Your head naturally found its place against his chest, the coarse hair tickling your cheek. The familiar scent of dish soap still lingered on his skin, now mixed with sweat after a long evening.
Once you found your footing again, you looked up at him.
“Where the hell did you learn to do that?”
After all these years together, you didn’t think he could still surprise you.
Carlos lips curled into a bashful smile, rare for someone who was smug about pulling your release so effortlessly just moments ago.
“What do you mean by that?” he asked, though the corner of his mouth hinted he already knew.
“The way you lifted my legs like that,” you said. “I didn’t think I was gonna make it to tomorrow.”
“I aim to exceed expectations.”
You gave him a flat look.
“Congratulations. You’re insufferable.”
“But impressive.”
“Okay, okay I’m gonna stop now before your ego ends up somewhere in the clouds.”
Carlos grinned, too pleased with himself now. “I’m just stating facts, baby.”
He pulled you closer anyway, tucking your head under his chin and pressing a gentle kiss on your crown. Whatever cockiness he’d worn moments ago quietly melted away, leaving only the quiet affection that always followed.
The room settled into silence once more, filled only by the steady rhythm of your breathing, the occasional rustle of the sheets, and the comforting beat of his heart beneath your ear.
However, the peaceful moment didn’t last long when you glanced past the bedroom door toward the hallway.
“I hate to ruin the mood, but…”
Carlos tensed slightly at your words, then shifted just enough to look down at you, his thumb brushing your cheekbone as he gave you all his attention.
“What up?” he asked gently.
“The dishes still need to be finished.”
He blinked.
He had completely forgotten about the dishes in the heat of the moment.
“Shit… you’re right,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
With a sigh and one last longing glanced at you, he reluctantly started to untangle himself from you and got up, quickly slipping on his shirt and boxers. A man mentally preparing himself for dish duty after a very successful apology sex session.
It was amusing to watch.
You shifted, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. But the moment you stood, a throbbing ache bloomed between your legs, making your wobble slightly.
It took you a second to find your balance before you managed to make your way toward the hallway. The whole time, Carlos watched you, zeroing in on your unsteady step.
“Easy—”
He was beside you in an instant, catching your elbow gently to steady you. His expression shifted immediately into concern.
“You okay?” He didn’t let go until he was sure you weren’t going to topple over.
“You really did a number on me,” you said with a soft, amused smile.
He looked properly chastised now, though there was still a hint of pride beneath it.
“Sorry about that.”
He guided you onto the kitchen stool before pressing a soft kiss to your knuckle, a sweet gesture after such a passionate moment.
Then he rolled up his sleeves and got to work on the remaining dishes. The domesticity was almost funny after how wild things had been an hour ago. Every so often, he glanced back at you to make sure you were alright.
“We’re taking a long shower after this,” you said.
Carlos huffed a laugh.
“Good,” he said. “Because I wasn’t done with you yet.”
𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @shypervydolly @alextheripper1985 @def-not-daria @kate-writes @millabela (lmk if you wanna be tagged for Carlos stuff)
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