🩶Enero🩵

You walked into the living room. Carlos was buried under a small mountain of paperwork on the couch, phone pressed between his shoulder and ear.

He looked like a completely different person when he was in paperwork mode. The playful smirk was gone, replaced by his focused gaze scanning the reports scattered across the coffee table.

He definitely preferred the physical part of his job much more, but the boring, lengthy reports were still a very real part of it.

You moved through the room, sinking onto the couch a few feet away. His eyes flickered to you for a few seconds, and you could see the clear, sharp and knowing, "don't do anything stupid," message. He got it across without him even having to say it.

You just offered him a small, private smile, and stretched out a leg to rest on the part of his lap with no paper, turning to the TV that had the audio turned down.

Without breaking eye contact with the document in his hand, Carlos’s palm settled over your calf. His thumb began a slow, soft stroke against your skin. He was a man of habit, and you were his favourite one. He didn't mind you being here. But he knew what you were like. The wary tension in his shoulders told you that he knew you were planning something.

You stayed mindlessly watching the movie, but the flickering screen wasn't holding your attention. You found yourself listening to the low hum of his voice as he spoke, the small, occasional sounds of agreement he’d grunt into the receiver, and the constant scratch of his pen against the reports.

Even the crisp rustle of paper as he moved sheets around felt louder and more interesting than the TV. But, you still felt yourself becoming bored, your legs becoming more and more restless.

When you started subtly bouncing your foot on his thigh to give yourself something to do, his hand came down, holding it still. You let out a sigh that was more of a frustrated huff, the sound cutting through the quietness of his work. His eyes flickered to you for a split second before returning to the page.

You knew you could just go do something else, and that honestly seemed like what he wanted, but you weren't going to.

If you couldn't use your legs, you were going to use your hands. You moved your leg off his lap, sitting and reaching up, fingers playing with some of the messy strands at the nape of his neck. A small shiver traveled down his spine, but he continued, focus unwavering.

You continued, leaning your chin against his shoulder as you did so. Carlos cleared his throat, a sound that rumbled right through his chest. He was still trying to pay attention to the voice on the other end of the line, but your fingers gently twisting the short hairs at the back of his neck were clearly testing his limits.

You huffed a small breath through your nose, watching it hit the skin of his neck. He stopped writing for a second, the tip remaining pressed against the paper, bleeding a small dot of black ink. His grip on the pen tightened until his knuckles turned slightly white. He was fighting a losing battle, and you both knew it.

"Yeah, I copy that. We'll have the inventory logged by 0800," Carlos said into the receiver. His voice was a fraction lower now, losing that perfectly smooth, professional rhythm he usually kept during calls like this.

​You leaned a little more of your weight against him, shifting just enough to press your cheek against his shoulder. From this angle, you could see the exact moment his jaw clenched as he tried to maintain his composure.

He didn't try to push you off, although you were practically climbing all over him. He continued scribbling small things down.

You started playing with his shirt collar, feeling the soft fabric between your fingers, gently tugging on it, and lazily tracing the seam. Your thumb brushed against the warm skin of his collarbone, and it was his turn to sigh, a barely audible sound leaving his lips.

​Amused by the tiny reaction, you slid your hand down to the first button of his shirt. You lightly caught the small plastic disc between two fingers, twisting it back and forth, then letting it snap gently back against the fabric. When that didn't make him break, you moved to the next button down, mindlessly tracing the stitching.

​"...Understood, Captain. I'll make sure the supply lines are cleared by tomorrow afternoon," Carlos managed. He cleared his throat again, trying to pull his mind back to the logistical data on his lap, but with your fingers casually messing with his shirt buttons, his focus was entirely shot.

"Oliveira, you still with me? You sound like you're a million miles away." The voice on the other line said sharply.

Carlos’s eyes darted down to you, a sudden flash of heat hitting his cheeks. "Uh, yes, sir. Just... double-checking the inventory numbers here."

​"Right. Well, it’s late, and you’ve been staring at those reports since noon. Wrap up the page you're on."

​"Copy that, sir. Thank you," Carlos said, a visible wave of relief washing over his face.

​He clicked the screen to end the call, tossed the phone onto the cushion beside him, and finally let his pen drop onto the coffee table with a soft clatter.

​For a second, he just sat there, letting out a long, dramatic sigh as the last of his rigid work-mode posture completely melted away. Then, that familiar, easygoing smirk crawled back onto his face.

"You're a menace, you know that?"

​Before you could even think about sliding away, his arm shot out, hooking securely around your waist and pulling you flat against the couch cushions.

​"Payback time," he chuckled, his fingers instantly finding your sides.

​You gasped, twisting and trying to squirm out of his grip, but Carlos was too fast. He targeted your sides, completely shattering the quiet atmosphere of the room with your sudden bursts of laughter.

​"Carlos, stop! Wait!" you managed to get out between breathless giggles, batting uselessly at his large hands.

​"Nope, no mercy," he teased, his eyes crinkling with genuine amusement as he kept up the attack for a few more seconds, perfectly content to let his paperwork be forgotten on the floor.

"That's what you get for testing my focus."

​Finally, he relented, leaving his hands resting lightly on your waist as you caught your breath.

He rested on top of you immediately after, making you groan from the weight.

"Oh, come on. I'm not that heavy," Carlos laughed, though he didn't make any move to shift his weight. Instead, he propped his chin up on your chest, looking up at you.

​You let out another dramatic sigh, burying your hands into his messy curls just to give them an affectionate tug. "You are a literal brick wall."

He tilted his head into your touch. The loose sheets of his report were scattered across the floor and the coffee table, completely abandoned.

​He shifted slightly, burying his face into the crook of your neck with a contented hum.

It wasn't long until you felt lips dragging against your neck. The sensation was light, almost experimental at first.

His lips brushed softly against the sensitive skin just below your jawline. A quiet gasp caught in your throat, your fingers instinctively tightening in the thick, unruly curls at the back of his head. Carlos let out a low, vibration of a hum against your skin, clearly pleased with the reaction.

You tilted your head back, and his lips quickly started to suck more than kiss on the soft skin. A sudden shiver traveled down your spine, your breath catching entirely in your throat as a soft, helpless gasp escaped your lips. The cosy quiet shifted, growing heavier as his breathing slowed.

You tilted your head completely to the side to give him better access, a quiet, shaky sigh leaving your lips. His lips slowly travelled up, finding your own. They were a deep, familiar warmth against yours. It started soft and warm, but quickly escalated to something deeper and much more intense. Carlos’s hand slid from your waist up to the side of your neck, his large palm framing your jawline to hold you steady as he deepened the kiss. Every ounce of his earlier hesitation completely evaporated, replaced by a fierce, focused attention that was entirely directed at you.

​Your heart hammered against your ribs as his lips moved against yours with an intoxicating hunger, his tongue dancing against yours. The slow, lazy rhythm from a moment ago was gone, overtaken by a heated, breathless rush that left your mind completely blank. Your fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt at his shoulders, pulling him down closer as if you couldn't get near enough to the heat radiating off him.

Carlos let out a low, ragged sound against your mouth, a vibration that sent a pang of arousal straight through you. He shifted his weight, his broad frame pressing you deeper into the plush cushions of the couch, his hardness pressing against your thigh, completely enveloping you until the rest of the room entirely ceased to exist.

​The heat between you continued, the kiss growing heavier and more consuming as his fingers tangled in your hair, holding you close. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest was a contrast to yours, which felt like it was going to jump out of your ribs any minute.

Before he pulled away, he caught your bottom lip between his teeth, the sweet, sharp pain shooting through your lip.

His hands pushed under your shirt, resting against the warm skin of your waist. He pushed it up, moving down to press his lips to your stomach. The sudden, cool draft of the living room air was instantly countered by the intense, blooming warmth of his mouth pressing against your skin. A quiet, sharp gasp escaped your lips, your abdomen tightening instinctively at the sensation. Carlos let out a low hum against you, the vibration of his voice sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin.

He used his tongue and lips slowly against your skin, leaving a trail of warm, deliberate kisses that made your chest rise and fall with shallow, breathless sighs.

His tongue trailed up, nibbling the skin near your chest, making you gasp. The sudden sensation made your fingers tighten completely in his shirt, your back arching slightly off the cushions.

Taking advantage of the arch, his fingers slipped behind you, unbuckling your bra and letting it come off, pushing your shirt higher, revealing your breasts to his gaze.

​"Look at you," he said softly, the gravel of his voice sending vibrations directly through you.

You gasped sharply as his mouth closed around your nipple, his fingers reaching up to twist and squeeze the other. "Fuck," you sharply inhaled, your body completely caught between the instinct to arch up into his touch or twist away from it.

His teeth lightly grazed as he swirled his tongue, causing your hips to spasm slightly as they arched up again, another breathless swear getting caught in your throat.

"Carlos," you breathed, attempting to push his head away. He finally pulled away, warm breath gently hitting your sensitive skin as he looked up at you. "Just let me take care of you. Yeah?" His voice resonated through you, lower than normal, a deep, raspy sound that filled the room.

He only tore his gaze away so his fingers could find the buttons to your jeans. His fingers hooked into the waistband, thumb finding the cold metal of the button and nudging it through the stiff denim. You shifted your hips up to help him, and he slowly dragged the fabric down your legs.

His lips were worshipping any sliver of skin he was gradually revealing, leaving a warm trail of kisses that didn't miss a single spot, licking and kissing until he got down to your sensitive ankles, pressing warm, wet kisses before he pulled your jeans off fully.

His lips and tongue slowly moved back up your leg in smooth motions, mouth pressing against your clothed pussy, the soft fabric covering it already drenched.

His fingers caught under the waistband, pulling them down before you had a chance to react to the warmth of his breath so close to you.

He didn't hesitate, mouth immediately finding your clit, tongue pressing against it as if he'd been deprived of this his whole life. You gasped sharply, hips jumping. His mouth continued, tongue moving with experienced precision. He released your clit, licking a long stripe all the way up, spreading your juices all over yourself and his own tongue.

He groaned at the sweet, slightly tangy taste of you, his warm mouth finding your clit again. "Fuck," you gasped, breath ragged.

His arm snaked up from under him, pushing a finger inside you. The small, unexpected intrusion made you jump slightly, but the sensation quickly balanced out into pleasure. His finger pumped in and out as his mouth borderline devoured you.

He followed your movements completely, not letting your back arching or twisting break his rhythm. When your fingers found his hair again, pulling sharply on the thick, messy strands, he moaned against you, sending vibrations all the way through your core, making you whimper.

Another finger pushed inside you, curling until they reached the soft, spongy spot that made you almost choke on your own breaths. Your moans and soft curses filled the room, followed by a gasp of his name. His mouth tormented your clit and his fingers pumped in and out of you, and it wasn't long until you felt your lower stomach tighten slightly.

He seemed to be enjoying it more than you. His fingers pulled out, quickly replaced by his warm, wet tongue. His thumb replaced his mouth, circling your sensitive clit.

His tongue devoured you like a man dying of thirst, and your legs closed around his head, back arching off the couch. His fingers dug into the soft skin of your thigh, anchoring you against him as if he couldn't bear the thought of letting you go.

When his thumb pressed a little firmer, you're breath stuttered, catching in your throat for a second. "Carlos, I'm—I'm gonna—"

You couldn't even finish your sentence before he doubled down, tongue moving quicker alongside his thumb, moving in the exact way he knew you loved. It wasn't long until the tightening coil in your stomach snapped, and your orgasm washed over you, causing you to throw your head back and your back to arch, the explosive sensation ringing throughout your body.

He continued even after your body had come down from its high, moving his tongue back up to your clit, licking and sucking as if he could swallow the very air around you if you let him. The sensation quickly traveled into overstimulation, the sparks flying through your body causing your legs to twitch and shake.

"Carlos—" you gasped, the sensation becoming more and more intense, the sounds leaving your mouth now fully unguarded. When you moaned his name, there was a slight tremble in your voice.

He pulled back eventually, head coming back up from being trapped between your thighs, mouth glistening as air rushed into his lungs, inhaling ragged gasps, and worry quickly overtook you as you realised you were basically suffocating him.

"I'm sorry," you said, your voice breathless and uneven.

He shook his head slightly, his gaze dark but warm. "For what?"

"You looked like you couldn't breathe," you admitted, shifting higher against the pillows. A faint, lingering tremor still pulsed through your thighs.

"I barely could," he murmured, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. A slow, amused smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he caught the lingering worry on your face. "But I enjoyed every second of it, baby. Don't look so concerned. If I'm going to suffocate anywhere, I'd prefer it to be between your thighs."

You shook your head, a breathless laugh escaping you. Before you could retort, he sat up, sliding his hands around your waist to pull you flush against his chest. When his mouth captured yours, the kiss was deep and entirely possessive. You let out a soft moan against his lips, heat rushing straight back to your core as you tasted your own slick sweetness on his tongue.

He drank the sound in, his thumbs tracing slow, deliberate circles into the soft skin of your hips.

"See?" he whispered, his voice a low, raspy rumble against your lips. "Nothing to apologise for."

The contrast of the cool room against his radiating body heat made you shiver slightly, pressing closer into his embrace.

"You're ridiculous," you murmured, though there was no real bite to the words.

The heavy, comfortable warmth of him shifts instantly as he catches the tiny vibration of your laugh against his chest.

"Oh, you think I'm being sweet?" he murmurs, his voice vibrating with a sudden, wicked amusement. Before you can answer, his hand slides from your lower back, his fingers tracing a light, agonisingly slow path down your spine until they find the sensitive curve of your hip.

He squeezes gently, making you gasp, and uses the leverage to roll smoothly until he is hovering directly over you.

"Let me clarify," he whispers, leaning down until his lips brush the sensitive spot right beneath your jaw. He doesn't kiss you yet. He just lets his breath warm your skin, making you shiver. "I was being greedy, not sweet. And I still am."

To prove his point, his knee slides between yours, gently but firmly nudging your thighs apart once more. The friction of his clothed skin against your bare, sensitive body sends a sharp jolt of electricity straight to your core.

You look up at him, your breath hitching as you see the cocky, satisfied smirk spreading across his face. He loves knowing exactly how much power he has over you, and he isn't trying to hide it.

He pushed himself up until your legs were wrapped around his waist, and his hands found the button to his jeans.

You watched through half-lidded eyes as he rid himself of the final barrier, his broad chest rising and falling in a heavy rhythm.

He lifted his shirt over his head, chucking it aside. His chest was wide and covered in a pattern of dark hair that swirled over his ribs and followed the lines of his well-defined midsection.

His presence felt massive, his wide shoulders and thick torso commanding the room. Seeing him like this, rugged and unpolished, felt incredibly unreal, no matter how many times you'd seen it.

When he moved back over you, the sudden, unrestricted friction of his bare thighs and stomach sliding against yours sent a violent wave of goosebumps tracing across your skin.

You let out a shaky sigh, arching up automatically to meet his heat. Carlos let out a low rumble of approval, his hands finding your waist again, his palms burning hot against your bare skin. He tilted his hips, aligning himself perfectly, and the playful atmosphere completely evaporated as he slowly began to push inside you, his thick length stretching you perfectly.

The playful teasing evaporated the absolute second he slided into you. A sharp, entirely helpless gasp caught in your throat, your head snapping back against the cushions as your eyes fluttered closed.

Carlos let out a low groan right against your ear, a raw sound that vibrated straight through your chest. All of his cocky restraint completely shattered in an instant. His broad shoulders locked tight, and his large hands clamped down hard on your hips, his knuckles turning white as he anchored you flat against the couch.

He stayed still for a long, agonising beat, his forehead dropping against yours as he forced a ragged breath through his teeth. The cocky, effortless smirk from moments ago was entirely gone, replaced by a tight, strained line as he fought against the overwhelming sensation of his cock pushing inside your wet pussy. The way your walls were squeezing him was making it harder and harder for him to be gentle.

Every muscle in his broad chest was locked hard against yours, his heart hammering in a frantic, demanding rhythm that mirrored the sudden, wild spike in your own pulse.

"God, baby," he choked out, his voice reduced to a low, gravelly rasp right against your ear. His breath was scorching hot, sending a fresh wave of shivers down your spine. "Don't move. Just... give me a second."

You couldn't have moved even if you wanted to. Your fingers were clawed desperately into the skin of his shoulders as your mind struggled to process the sheer fullness of him. A quiet, shaky whimper escaped your lips, cutting straight through the quiet room.

At that sound, Carlos’s grip on your hips tightened until it was almost bruising. A low, primal growl tore from his throat, his hard-fought restraint snapping completely.

He lifted his head, his hooded, dark eyes boring into yours with an intoxicating intensity that left you breathless.

"You're making this very difficult," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly as he looked down at you. You could feel him holding back, wanting to do much more than he thought you could handle. He was giving himself a moment to gather his self control.

"Carlos... don't hold back.. you're killing me." You breathed, trying your absolute best not to move against him.

At your words, Carlos’s chest heaved with a sharp breath. The admission that he was torturing you, and that you wanted him to lose control just as badly as he did, was the final blow to his sanity.

"You asked for it," he growled out, the words thick and dark against your lips.

He didn't wait. His thick cock drove inside you, and a broken, helpless moan crashed past your lips as he filled you to the absolute limit in a single second.

The friction of the movement sent a violent wave of heat crashing from your core straight out to your fingertips.

Before you could even recover from the shock of the first movement, Carlos pulled back and drove in again. The slow, careful hesitation from a moment ago was instantly gone, replaced by a demanding rhythm that was entirely driven by the desperate way your thighs tightened around his waist.

A continuous string of breathless, broken whimpers began to spill past your lips, your head rolling back against the armrest as your vision blurred from the pure intensity of it. Your fingers dug the bare skin of his shoulders, your nails pressing in his muscles as you tried to anchor yourself against the frantic pace he was setting.

Carlos drank in every single sound of your undoing. He let out a low, breathless laugh that was half-groan, his head dipping down to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

"God, you're so fucking tight," he panted against your skin, his voice entirely ruined, shaking with the effort it took to speak. "Listen to you... fuck, baby, you're driving me crazy."

The sheer intensity of the pleasure was too much, making your back arch off the couch as a wave of pleasure rippled through you. Carlos watched your eyes flutter closed, a cocky, breathless smirk cutting through his own desperation as he saw how completely undone you were.

"Oh, no you don't," he teased, his voice a low, gravelly rumble against your lips as he picked up the pace, deliberately driving you higher. "Stay right here with me, baby. Don't close your eyes yet."

Your head rested back against the armrest, your eyes glazed as a continuous string of disjointed, high-pitched whimpers spilled from your lips.

The sheer intensity of his full body weight smashing down on you, the blistering heat of his stomach against yours, his cock dragging in and out of you, and his skin frictioning against your hypersensitive breasts sent a violent, electric shock straight down your spine.

Your inner thighs were trembling so hard they could barely hold their grip around his waist, your core pulsing desperately around him.

"Fuck, baby," he pants, his voice an absolute wreck, cracking under the weight of his own arousal. "You’re crushing me. Squeeze me like that again and I’m done."

You can’t even form a syllable to answer. Another ragged sob of pure pleasure escapes you as your hips twitch instinctively upward, begging for more.

Seeing you completely at his mercy breaks whatever control he has left. A low, wicked chuckle, breathless and raw, vibrates in his throat. He suddenly, brutally increases his speed, his hips driving down with an unrelenting, heavy force that makes the couch squeak against the floor.

He shifted his angle slightly, hitting that spot inside you that made you throw your head back with a fractured moan.

"Ah!" The sound ripped from your throat, high and completely ruined, cutting off into a sharp, hitching gasp. Your back arched completely off the couch, fingers clawing blindly into the thick, corded muscles of his shoulders.

You cried out when he grabbed your hair, yanking it back just enough to feel the burn in your scalp and tears gather in the corner of your eyes.

"Oh, you like that spot, don't you?" he whispered, his hot breath brushing your lips as his hips gave a torturously slow, heavy grind forward.

You could only let out a helpless, shuddering whine, your eyes blurring with tears as the burning tension in your scalp and the overwhelming pleasure between your thighs held you completely captive.

He sped up his thrusts as his hand moved to start rubbing over your clit again, causing a strangled moan to escape your mouth.

He grunted as you squeezed him tightly, thrusting deeply as you came. Your back arches off the couch, completely out of your control as a sudden, white-hot current surges up your spine

He didn't stop, continuing to thrust deeply into your spasming pussy until your vision blurs into static. It's too much, your nerve endings entirely on fire, leaving you helpless and weeping into the cushions. He leans over you, his eyes dark. "Be good for me," he cooes, his voice a devastatingly calm contrast to the storm inside you. "Hold still."

You try to shift your hips, thighs trembling against his hold because the sensation is too bright, too intense to process. He catches your hips, anchoring you. "Where do you think you're going?" he murmurs, his lips brushing your jaw.

The sensation of his cock dragging against your sensitive walls is too much, too electric, sending tremors straight down to your toes. You continue to try to twist your hips, trying to catch your breath as your mind goes completely blank from the sensory overload.

"Carlos, please," you gasped out, your hands moving to his broad shoulders.

He hooks one large hand securely under your thigh, pinning your leg high over his hip to press his weight even deeper into you, rendering you completely helpless to the rhythm.

"Please what, sweetheart?" he murmurs, his tone laced with a cocky, breathless amusement that makes your blood run hot. He leans down, his lips brushing yours just long enough to taste yourself on his tongue from earlier. "You started this, remember? You don't get to beg for mercy now. Sit still and take it."

You didn't know whether to pull away or lean in, the sensation of him thrusting relentlessly into your weeping pussy entirely too much, but it felt too good to actually pull away.

His breathing became slightly more uncontrollable and laboured as his own release crept closer and closer. He leant further down, the huff of air escaping through his teeth scorching hot against your neck. "Fuck, your pussy feels too good," he groaned, his hair tickling your jaw as he leaned into your neck.

The exact second your squeezed him once more as your third orgasm that night washed over you, he lost all control, his own washing over him, his release gushing into you as his entire body goes completely rigid, a heavy shudder rippling through him. "Fuck," he hissed, your cunt pulsing around him as he caught his breath.

For a long minute, neither of you moved. The only sound in the room was the ragged, competing rhythm of your breathing.

Then, the heavy tension in his muscles finally melted. He rolled slowly to his side, taking you with him so you were tucked securely against his chest. His hands, which had been anchoring you so fiercely moments ago, were suddenly incredibly gentle.

He pulled a discarded blanket over your trembling shoulders, shielding you from the cool air of the room. One of his large hands began a slow, repetitive stroke down your spine, grounding you as the white noise in your ears slowly faded back into reality.

"Look at you," he whispered, his thumb gently wiping a stray tear of overstimulation from your flushed cheek. His lips curved into a soft, fond smile. "I really broke you this time, didn't I?"

"Shut up," you mumbled into his chest, your voice thick with exhaustion. You tried to sound annoyed, but your fingers only tightened in the fabric of the blanket.

His eyes were incredibly warm, stripped entirely of the dark want from moments ago. "Stay right here. Don't go anywhere."

"Too heavy to move anyway," you breathed out, a tiny, tired smile catching on your lips.

"Good," he murmured, leaning down to press a small kiss to the crown of your head.

Everything happened so fast, Togame dived into the water swimming below the surface with his heart hammering as he tried to regroup his thoughts of what transpired.

The third disturbance to his day was the feeling that overcame him when he saw the human women sit down on the rock where he had been trapped and inspected her lower half of her body- were she a mermaid it would have been her tail.

Ah-they were called legs. remembering the term suddenly.

Togame was little ways far away from the shore. only the top half of his head bobbing above the water. lazy green eyes taking in what was occurring on the rocks infront of him shining with rare interest. He knew he should’ve swam away-far away from the shore. Humans were not to be trusted. they were a foe he never had to fight before. Therefore not knowing their capabilities made them dangerous. And from the stories he’s heard all his life surrounding the land creatures, he thought of it too much of a hassle anyway to find out. Best leaving them a mystery.

But yet he remained floating in place. His powerful green tail swaying under the water. Not making one ripple appear on the surface. The human seemed to be upset and he swears he saw her wince. His eyes lower to where she was checking herself. Small red streaks were displayed on her skin a bigger sized blotch on the top where she was able to bend.

Wounded. Eyes widing slightly with realization.

Had she been wounded during her helping him? The thought leads The merman to feel guilt swirl within him. He didn’t even consider to make sure she was okay before he swam away so suddenly. He didn’t even thank her and now she’s there alone trying to tend to wounds That he was the reason for.

Togame blows air through his mouth and gills on his neck flare open with the huff. He was annoyed at himself. Even if she was a human, she clearly had meant him no harm.

He remembers her eyes, how they looked at him with wonder when she first approached him. then filling with concern as she planned on how to free him. the least he could do as repayment was make sure she was alright, right?

Togame submerged his head and started to swim towards where she was. Underwater, he heard a disturbance breaking the surface. her wounded leg enters the water. Immediately he was hit with the smell of her blood.

What was she doing? Did she not fear attracting potential predators while she was alone? Who could easily overcome her small frame without much of a a fight? Togame swam faster, wanting to stop her from stupidly exposing herself like this.

Still, In his urgency he considered how he might approach her. He didn’t want to startle her after all. He opted to emerge a little ways before her. Hearing small breathy gasp falling from her mouth. Togame regarded her once more, her physique..she looked…intriguing. is what he decided on.

He flicked his tail twice gliding across the water. Landing him right infront of her. Looking up, from the water. Green eyes gauging her reaction to his proximity. When he deems that she wasn’t going to attack or run his eyes go to her wounded leg. Worriedly Seeing the scraps and cuts.

“Seriously ya shouldn’t let cuts bleed, out in the open like this. atleast without having a way to protectin ya self ” he chides.

When He dosent hear a response from her he looks up curiously. the womens confused face lets him know she has no clue what he’s saying.

“We don’t speak the same language?.” He mutters.

Going back to her leg, Togame gently wraps his webbed hands around her shin and calf. Taking a closer look at her wounds. The swirl of guilt still present in him. He takes note that she also bleeds red. His fingers hover over the bigger scratch,focusing his gaze, something felt off about the cut.

It ain’t healing itself fast ‘nuff

The humans wound should be halfway closed by now-if she were his kind. With a start, he notices that even the smallest of scratches are also still red. Puzzled he lifts her leg up to his face. Ignoring her noises of protest. Togame becomes even more concerned and confused about her injuries, thinking of what he can do to help quicken the process.

Are all humans really this fragile?

In his questioning another thought bubbles up in his mind. His hands glide across her skin. It was soft and smooth, a texture he hadn’t felt before! Immediately His thoughts cut away from his worries about injuries and transform into fascination for the feel of her under his fingertips.

He hears her make more noises above him. But since he can’t understand her, he ignores her. His touch goes above the knee. fingers adorned with black nails grazing under the fabric wrapped around her body. when she suddenly pulls her leg away from him with a loud one syllable word.

The sudden action surprising him making him jump. He looks up and sees her cheeks are flushed pink. her mouth moving with fast noises. Togame tilts his head slightly trying to understand what just happened to make her react so suddenly. She’s holding her legs to her chest now looking at him, upset.

Did he hurt her accidentally with his touching?-Does she perhaps have another wound he didnt see?

Knowing now that humans wounds don’t heal as quickly as merfolk. worry spikes through him at the thought of her having a larger opened injury under her fabric requiring attention.

Without another thought Togame grabs her ankle pulling her leg towards him, away from her grasp. He feels bad for being rough with her like this. But he has to know. she could be in a lot of pain right now and possibly bleeding out all because of him.

He grips his hold on her when he feels her trying to pull away. His other hand lifts up the loose fabric tossing it back to expose her full leg to him. His eyes take in the new revealed part of her and search for any wounds that might have caused such a reaction.

The women squirming was not helping his search and could lead to her hurting herself more. With an annoyed huff and flick of his ear fins he places a hand on her thigh to keep her still.

only that when he did, his thoughts where cut through by the feel of her. this new part of her was different, it was plump and squishy with the additional smoothness of her skin. For some reason Togame stomach flipped excitedly and he felt himself get warm.

He couldn’t help it. His hand rubbed her flesh and squeezed it gently, his ear fins flicking in amusement at seeing her plush thigh indent around his webbed hands. The texture of her was incredible. He wondered if she had other soft parts like this on her body or if the smoothness of her skin was the same throughout.

He thought about pursing that idea but the fabric of her dressings looked like too much of a hassle to figure out in the moment. So he made himself content with what was available to him.

Togame moved his face closer to her thigh. Settling closer between her legs. Wanting to provide comfort and demonstrate his appreciation for this feature of hers. he nuzzles his cheek against the flesh. Closing his eyes, Relishing at the plushness of it. He hears her breath catch and noises as if she’s stammering.

Maybe ya lot ain’t all that bad. He muses at how a small soft creature as yourself could do harm to someone as large as him.

That’s when he catches a peculiar scent . Opening his eyes, he is in direct view of what lays between a female human’s thighs. Curious, he moves his face towards it, the scent growing trying to figure what it might be. Just when he realizes what it is- his face blooms with a pink hue- he feels her push his shoulders back forcefully with that same one worded syllable that causes him to freeze. Her voice sounded harsh with that word and he hated it.

The human once again retracts her legs away from him and into her chest but this time covers them with the fabric she’s wearing. Hiding the plump flesh that had enchanted him. Continuing to let out noises he had no clue about.

His mind was swirling between the new found fascination of the feel of her soft flesh and the fact that he had smelled her female scent from the source. It was different than a mermaids. It was sweet and…inviting. Once more his face blooms pink and his body thrums with new found energy. He looks away from her as he scolds himself internally. Putting his face in his hand before threading it through his long dark hair.

Stop, she’s injured and a human,you gotta cool it jo!

Letting out a breath he focuses back on reality. He knows that he upset her but doesn’t fully know why? She had no wounds that he saw that could have caused her pain when he touched her.

maybe the human women was truly frighted of him? It wouldn’t be the first time he had scared others. Togame was larger than the average merman. His green tail bigger than average; powerful to the point that others didnt try to meddle with him just by looking at him. But an odd feeling he hasn’t felt in awhile spread in his chest. He didn’t want her to be scared of him.

No, that couldn’t be it. If the human woman was scared of him, she would have not helped him escape the net or ran off when he approached her afterwards. He looks back at her his eyes roaming her body once more.

maybe she was simply uncomfortable with his sudden proximity, his ear fins, droop with embarrassment. At not thinking of this before. Of course, he wouldn’t like a stranger suddenly getting close to him, either. The weight in his chest blooms to appreciation. The human woman did let him get close and touch her. It’s only right that he should reassure her by doing the same.

He gives her what hopes to be a kind tilt of the lips as he swims to be beside her, turning with his back to the rock he lifts himself up. sitting next to her exposing his full upper half. Water droplets making him glimmer in the setting sun. he hears the human woman once again gasp, but makes no action of running away still. Once settled he looks at her seeing the intrigue in her eyes as she takes him in. It makes him fill up with a flustered sensation, He never felt before. But he finds himself liking her gaze on him so he puffs out his chest a bit to show off his strong physique.

Togame hears more noises come from her mouth, sounding like wonder. He blushes once more at what she might be saying about him.

gently taking her wrist in his hand, he feels her tense slightly but just as quickly lets him guide her hand to his toned adomen the muscles flexing lightly at her touch. He looks at her face to see if she understands that hes reciprocating what she let him do to her.

But the sight of pink on her own face makes him wonder why she is becoming flustered if she is simply touching him? Is she still unsure?

Togame tries again with a nod and pushing her hand further down, lifting up his tail to float on top of the water so she can have access to it. Togame tries to ignore the shiver that courses through him at her soft hesitant touch over his scales. He dosnt want to admit how good it feels. his tail unconsciously laingualy moving side to side on top of the water.

The women eyes widen sensing the powerful muscles in his tail move and looks up to his face with wide eyes filled with amazement. Her reaction to him is endearing. Making him happy that she finds him intriguing as well.

He lets her continue to feel him, letting go of her wrist to once more place it on her thigh. Amazed all over again at the feeling as he squeezes it. He doesn’t know how he could ever find anything to compare the sensation.

Then he hears it, a sound from the women he wouldn’t dare choose to ignore. It’s warm and Light like the sunlight filtering through the surface making the water and everything under it brighter. His eyes flick up to her face, seeing her smile and her shoulders shake.

The sound coming from her fills him with wonder at how such a precious sound can exist. His hand goes to her lips, cold fingertips lightly pressing against them. Out of all the noises she’s made so far, he liked this one the best and he wanted to hear it again.

Togame leans in close, nudging his chin forward gesturing for her to do it again. But furrows his brows in disappointment when she doesn’t. Instead seeing her eyes widen. He reaches his hand once more to her thigh. Keeping focus on her mouth.

Huh, it should’ve worked?

He leans closer trying to figure out how he could make her make that noise again. His face in full concentration. not knowing that it was his pondering face that makes the human break into a smile again.

Lazy eyes shining in amusement as he hears her let out the same sparkling noise. the sound a melody he never wants to stop hearing. Bringing his hand to her cheek. Her skin warmed by the sun a contrast to his sea cold hand.His tail flicks and his heart races.

A smile spreads onto his face, both looking at the other. Taking in their differences and similarities. The merman on the shore rocks with a human who saved him.

Your finger presses down on the trigger of your gun hard, firing multiple rounds right at the creature. The bullets tear through its flesh. Its limbs fumble, and it crumples to the ground. Your heart slows down a little. The sight of its death helps to calm your nerves.

Carlos pops back up, his black hair swishing out of his face with the motion. He turns to you with an approving smirk across his lips.

"Nice work, sharpshooter," he says.

You roll your eyes at the nickname. He'd given it to you after your first mission together in which you encountered an infected dog and managed to miss every single shot you fired at the thing. It had been first day nerves you insisted, and so far, that had proven to be true. But that wouldn't stop Carlos from making fun of you.

The two of you walk over to the deceased organism. You silently thank every possible higher power that this mission is almost over. There's only one more sector after this one, and then the two of you are done for a few weeks.

You hesitate to get too close to the arachnid. Even though it lies there motionless, some sort of innate survival instinct told you no. Your eyes scan it with disgust, looking at the coarse hairs and the multitude of eyes. Gross. You would just have to step around the thing.

With extreme caution, you traverse over its large legs. You wonder what kind of psychopath would want to engineer spiders and make them this big. Your feet land firmly on the ground with every stride you take. The absolute worst case scenario here would be falling over onto it and finding out it still has some life left. Another few steps though, and you're in the clear.

However, your partner apparently does not possess the same inherent fear of spiders you do. He walks over the dead thing without any extra care. In the process, his boot catches on the end of its thorax.

You watch as a baby spider bursts from it and bolts away from the body, making a beeline towards you. And you know it's ridiculous. You know it's humiliating. But you scream.

You're not sure if it's because it's tinier and faster or because it's appearance is so sudden. Either way, you shriek. You recoil before you can control your reaction. Shooting at it would probably be smarter, but in your panic, you don't want to blow a hole through Carlos's foot. You just jerk back and accidentally send yourself tumbling into a bush.

Luckily, he's quick to get to it, not discharging his weapon at all. He simply stomps on it with his large boot. It squishes beneath the sole and splatters on the dirt. His eyes then turn to you in the foliage.

Laughing a little, he heads over to you and parts the leaves. He looks at you with that same smug expression and extends a hand.

"Need some help down there?" he asks.

You glare at him but still accept the offer. It would be easier to get out of this mess of branches and little pink flowers with his aid. You reach out and wrap your fingers around his palm, feeling the warmth of it in your grasp. He pulls you up, and you shamefully watch his bicep flex as he does.

On the way to your feet though, he hisses in pain.

"Ah, fuck," he mutters, letting go of you as soon as you're upright.

He pulls back and brings his arm to his body, holding it there and examining the source of pain. You step closer to try and look too. Your eyes catch the sight of the injury almost right away. It would be hard for anyone to miss.

A red stripe spans from the outer side of his forearm to up just past his elbow. The ending of the cut seems like a deep gash while the beginning is only a thin line. Blood already begins to trickle onto his skin. It looks like a thorn had snagged him while helping you off the ground.

You pull a small cloth from the pouch attached to your belt.

"Here, let me see," you offer, your voice softer as your mind snaps into a more caring frame. It's the one you used to use everyday when you worked as a medic. Before you had been roped into this mess with mercenaries.

He offers his limb up to you without resistance. If there was anyone he trusted to look at him, it was you. After most missions, he stayed with the doctors Umbrella provided for the mandatory observation period, but you were the one to actually patch him up. With you, there were no ulterior motives or chances of being double-crossed. You wanted to help people, and that's what you did for him.

You do it right now as you take the small piece of material and dab up the crimson fluid seeping from his wound. He grunts as you get closer to the source.

"Sorry," you say. You try extra to remain gentle, lightly swiping at the edges of the injury. "Looks like a piece of the plant caught you. I can take a better look at it later, but for now, you should be fine. You're not bleeding too much," you tell him.

He nods and gets back to holding his weapon in the proper position. The two of you continue onward in the direction of your target. You only hope you've seen the last of those spiders.

Fortunately, your wish had been granted. You and Carlos hadn't encountered any more spiders, big or small, for the rest of the mission. The path to the objective from the sight of the last one had been pretty easy, presenting no real challenges.

The two of you made it back to the nearest Umbrella base for the night following a short ride there. You had to get checked out first and now stay overnight for the waiting period as was the procedure for all field operatives. The idea was to ensure you all didn't harbor any infections that remained undetected during the examination. But after that, you'd be home free.

You'd already completed the mandatory screening with the doctor. After finding nothing out of the ordinary, you headed to the assigned room they'd given you for the next twelve hours. It was pretty small, just a bed, table, chair, and shelf. You didn't need anything more though.

You change out of your grimy cargo pants and black sweater and pull on a much more comfortable pair of gray sweats and a t-shirt matching in color. Laying on the stiff mattress, you take a few moments to decompress from the earlier events. Your body seems to hold a dull ache all over, something you attribute to the heightened stress you experienced for hours on end. Your adrenaline has started to wear off, and as it recedes, the ability to feel in entirety returns.

Some time goes by, and Carlos knocks on the frame of your door. It feels like only moments have passed, but in reality, you're sure it's closer to thirty minutes. You look up at him with curious eyes.

"You need something?" you ask.

He walks in, and you see he's also changed. A charcoal t-shirt covers his upper body while gray sweatpants adorn his waist. You try to keep your gaze casual although it would be obvious to anyone with eyes that he looks statuesque in them.

"I was wondering if you're too tired to take another look?" he asks.

Sitting up, you pat the space next to you on the small bed. "Never too tired for my favorite patient," you answer with a small smile.

He returns the fond expression and takes a seat. You take your medical pouch off the table next to the bed. Unzipping it, you pull out the few things you predict you'll need. He rolls up his sleeve even though it's not necessary, allowing you to see his arm in full glory.

"You know they do have doctors here. Ones with much better equipment than me," you say teasingly as you rip open a small cleaning wipe.

He looks at you and shrugs. "I doubt they'd know how to use it as well," he says.

You shake your head and rub the alcohol-soaked patch across his wound. He hisses from the sting but manages to hold still. Your fingers work as quickly as they can, not wanting to prolong his suffering. You clean the dried blood off and make sure the open cut has been completely tended to. But your eyes narrow as you look at his skin.

"The doctors did look at you, right?" you ask.

"Yeah, why?" he responds.

"They cleared you?" you check.

And he nods. Maybe he was right not to trust them.

"Well, this doesn't really look normal," you say with uncertainty, "You have some discoloration around the cut. Your veins look a bit darker than they should. It could be an infection."

His eyes find yours. You can see in his stare that he's looking for reassurance.

"Does it hurt at all?" you continue.

"No. I mean, a little. Feels like I have a giant scrape on my arm. But not more than normal," he says.

A puff of air leaves your nose as you try to think. "Hm. You might be ok then, could be just some abnormal pigmentation," you offer, "I've never seen an infection manifest this fast, but if it were already showing, you'd probably have some symptoms too."

"So you think I'll live?" he jokes.

You scoff and nudge his arm away, putting up a playful front. 

"Don't ask me that," you say. 

In truth, you didn't want to think about Carlos dying. You'd seen so many people die since joining this task force. Your worst fear when coming into work was seeing that happen to the one you care most about.

"Alright," he concedes and surrenders, but his attitude doesn't dampen any.

You pull up your small roll of gauze next and begin to bandage him up. With careful hands, you rotate the thin material around his forearm, making sure to cover the entire scratch in a durable layer. The room is so quiet. There's no sounds except for the two of you breathing. You're tempted to say something and cut through the silence, but you don't. The moment feels intimate. It feels wrong to try and interrupt it.

When you finish wrapping his arm, you tear the gauze and tuck it under to keep it in place. Clearing your throat, you pat his shoulder and give him another sweet smile.

"All done," you say.

"Do I get a reward for being so well-behaved?" he asks. His voice lowers, and he leans in the slightest bit closer to you.

Heat blooms in your stomach and spreads up to your chest, but you'd never let him see the effect he has on you.

"Get outta here," you say and give him a light push.

He laughs and rises to his feet. He heads over to the door but doesn't leave before turning back to look at you again.

"Thanks, sharpshooter," he says.

"You got it, soldier," you respond with a small mock salute.

He shuts the door behind him after that. You put your things back in your pouch and lay back in bed again. A sudden wave of tiredness crashes into you. Sighing, you rub your face and yawn. Tonight it didn't seem like you'd have any trouble sleeping, a rare blessing as of late.

Rolling over, you wince as you feel a small burst of pain in the back of your thigh. You're so exhausted though that you chalk it up to a pulled muscle and resign to check it out when you wake. All you really want to do right now is knock out until the sun is up and the transport vehicle is ready to drop you off at the airport to go home.

It's still dark out when your eyes flutter open. The lids feel heavy with sleep. Your brain wants to be unconscious again, but something has pulled you from the comfort of sleep. It might be the fact that you're burning up.

Your entire body feels as though fire rages within it. Sweat coats your skin and causes your t-shirt to stick to you. You can feel your pillowcase beneath your head damp with it. You sit up, but you have to do so slowly because of how the simple motion causes the room to spin. You try to blink the dizziness away to no avail.

Once you're upright, you feel more conscious though. You're able to better assess your symptoms and maybe pinpoint the cause. You register that you feel tingly. Fizzling sparks rampage all throughout your body; though, the most intense area seems to be the back of your thigh. You peel down your sweats a bit and arch your back to try and get a look.

Your eyes widen as you find a puncture wound with the same discoloration you saw on Carlos.

Fuck, you must have landed on a thorn in that bush and not realized it with everything else going on. Panic rushes through you at the thought of being infected with something that shows symptoms so fast, but a more intense surge of it floods you when you realize that this means Carlos has it too.

You try to get out of bed to go inform him of your discovery, but a round of cramps doubles you over and has you curling up on the twin-sized mattress to ride out the pain. Small whimpers exit your lips. They were so intense, worse than any period cramps or stomach aches you'd ever experienced.

They start to ease up after about a minute, but it's then that you begin to notice the constant throbbing between your thighs. In the midst of all this other stuff coming to light in your groggy condition, you hadn't really noted how consistent it was, but it seems to have grown stronger after that bout of pain.

A strong pulse emanates from your clit. You whine and shove your hand in your panties to try and rub it away. A few strokes bring little pleasure, but not enough to ward it off for good.

You realize your breasts feel heavy too. With every breath you take, they call out for a pair of hands to cup them and squeeze them, to fondle them and toy with your nipples. Just some form of stimulation.

Your legs bend up to your chest while your hand still fruitlessly fumbles around between your thighs. You whimper in frustration now. These symptoms are unlike any of the infections you've encountered in your career. You're not sure what to do.

As you're trying to formulate some sort of plan, your door opens. Carlos stumbles in. He looks to be in the same condition as you. The gray fabric of his t-shirt is soaked in sweat at the underarms and neckline. His skin glimmers in the dim light while he looks at you with hooded eyes. The door shuts behind him, and the air between you feels thick. His scent drifts to you across the room, making you squeeze your thighs together hard with desire.

It takes everything you have to not lunge across the room and pounce on him like an animal in heat. From the strained expression on his face, it's not a wild guess to imagine he feels similar. He's panting, leaning against the wall for support.

"Safe to say we're infected with something, huh?" he chokes out.

You turn your head and nod against your pillow, unable to bring yourself to look at him anymore. If you did that, you wouldn't be able to control your reaction.

"What should we do?" he asks.

You have no clue how he's managing to stand or speak or even think through these questions. All your mind can conjure at the moment are visions of him on top of you. They're so vivid you can almost feel the sensations of them. You see him above you with your legs over his shoulders, plowing into your cunt with no reserve or hesitation. Visions of you on your stomach also flash through your mind. You picture him with an iron grip on your hips, pumping his thick, meaty cock into your dripping hole over and over and over.

It's enough to bring a moan out of you. Carlos winces at the sound, and he approaches your bed. You're visibly faring worse than him. Maybe it's because you have a puncture wound, and he has a simple scratch. Or maybe it's just a difference in your biology. You're not sure, and there's no way you're going to figure it out while you feel like this.

He cautiously lays a hand on your arm, and you moan again. But this time the sound is so much needier. It echoes between the four walls of this small bedroom, the volume enough to cause concern that you would wake other employees here. He pulls his hand back and looks down at you. Your hips rock on your hand, humping it desperately in an attempt for friction.

Your eyes crack open and cast onto him. You intend to look up at his face, but with where he's standing, right at eye level is the huge tent in his pants.

His cock strains against the gray material. You can see the outline perfectly. The sight makes your mouth water. You don't know what's happening with you. Sure, you'd always found Carlos attractive. Maybe you could say you have a little crush on him, but it was never anything so raw. You thought he was charming more than anything. Never before had you just wanted to tear off both your own and his clothes and start going at it.

He sees where your eyes lock on, and he feels a strong burst of arousal in his stomach.

"Hey, hey. Look at me," he instructs and pushes you by the shoulder onto your back.

You look up into his eyes. Your mind finds peace in them. They're serene and calm and offer a sense of comfort despite every other part of your body going haywire.

Your own hand reaches up and wraps around his wrist. You tug his palm down onto your breast. His brows raise, but he makes no move to pull it away. Instead, he gives the mound a squeeze, relishing the way you arch your back and mewl for him.

"Wait," he tries to resist, tries to be the responsible one, "Are you sure we should... do this kind of stuff? What if it makes this worse? We don't know what's happening yet."

If you weren't so wound up, you'd probably laugh at the way he poses the question. The man who could flirt with you like there was no tomorrow asking if you should do "stuff." But you don't laugh because "stuff" is all you want to do.

"I don't know what's happening. All I know is I need you," you rasp and start pulling his arm more, trying to get his entire body on top of your own.

He half indulges you, beginning to climb on the bed before stopping above you. Looking down at your lust-stricken form, he wants you so bad. His cock leaks precum with the urge to just slip inside. But at the same time, Carlos does like you. Really likes you. It isn't a maybe with him - he has a crush on you. And while thoughts of you spread beneath him happen to be what he jerks off to each morning in the shower, part of him can't help worrying that if he takes advantage of this, things between you two will shift and fracture.

"Are... are you sure?" he asks. Words are hard when your scent clouds the air around him and you look up at him with needy eyes like this.

You want to tell him to stop talking and just fuck you senseless already, but your lust-stricken brain seems to comprehend that in order to get fucked dumb, you have to handle his concerns first.

"I want it. I need you inside me. Please just give it to me," you whine. Your legs squirm, and you tug on him again. He's still hesitant. Looking into his eyes, you whimper, "You'll still be my favorite."

And that's apparently good enough for him. That brief statement of reassurance shatters the thin pane of resistance he had left. After hearing those words, he collapses on top of you in a flurry of passion. His lips collide with yours. He pants against your face and squeezes your hips.

Your tongues meet and slide against each other as your mouths move. One of your hands slides around the back of his head to grip his shaggy, dark locks. He groans and bucks his hips against your thigh. Your other hand rubs his chest, fingers digging into the muscle with desire.

He leans back for a split second and rips off his shirt. Under more delicate circumstances, you probably would have admired his sculpted figure. You would have traced your fingertips along the defined lines of his abs, swirled the delicate pads around his nipples and up to his collarbone. 

But not right now.

You don't possess the ability to move with that much focus or care right now. Instead, you reach out and pull him back down again, almost crushing yourself with his bulky frame. It's worth it though because you lick up his happy trail, tracing your tongue over the contours of his muscles. He moans from the light touch before scooting down so he can remove your shirt and have access to your breasts.

"Look at these. Fuck," he says in awe. He gropes them, hands rough as they feel up the plump flesh.

He lowers himself on top of you again and kisses down your collarbone to your chest. You whimper as his mouth glides over the swells of your breasts before latching onto one nipple. He sucks with fervor, eyes fluttering shut as he focuses on the task. You gasp and moan. Between your legs, he ruts against the mattress.

His tongue swirls around your stiffening bud. He laves the smooth wetness over it a few times before switching to the other and giving it the same treatment.

"Been wanting to see these tits so fuckin' bad," he mumbles.

"You have?" you whimper, still squirming from the attention directed at your chest.

"Course I have. Those tight little sweaters you wear, the way they bounce every time you fucking move. God, drives me crazy," he mutters.

He spends some more time on your breasts before relenting and shoving down his sweats. His cock all but jumps out, eager for some attention as well.

"I've been wanting to see that so bad," you breathe.

You have to rub your thighs together once you get a look at his length. It's long and meaty just like you predicted. There are prominent veins spanning from the base upward. The tip is already leaking for you, oozing sticky white precum. His heavy balls hang below. All you can think about is how bad you need them drained inside of you.

He tears off your soaked panties and wastes no time slotting himself at your wanting hole. With both of you in frenzies of carnality, there's no teasing. He doesn't rub it over your folds or work himself in. No. In one go, he slams himself inside. A deep, guttural sound rumbles in his chest while a breathy whine erupts from you.

Your eyes roll back while your toes curl down below. You nearly cum from that stroke alone. He just fits you so perfectly. Even through the amorous fog that clouds your mind, you can't help wondering why you didn't do this sooner.

Just like in the flashes you saw minutes ago, his hands clamp around your waist. He doesn't take time to set a pace or give you a few moments to adjust to the girth of him. As soon as he's had the first taste of that warm, wet heat, he's slamming in and out of your little pussy with no thought.

His hot skin slaps against yours. Both of you pant with exertion while the cot below you scrapes against the concrete floor. Your legs bend upwards and you hold them to make sure nothing gets in the way of his thrusts.

Each time his cock slides all the way in, you think you see heaven. Your vision blots with white and then splotches of color. Your brain feels as though it's melting out your ears in the most blissful sensation. You're pretty sure you don't actually need thoughts anymore. Why would you when this seems like the only thing you'll wanna do ever again?

You bounce around with his strength pounding against you. Your head bobbles while your tits sway up and down. His head has been tilted back for a while, but he drops it now to look at the sight of you before him.

"Fuck, baby. You take my dick like you were made for it," he grunts.

Your walls squeeze him tight as a reward for saying that. He groans and fucks into you harder. The rhythm breaks for a moment. He has to slow down to deliver the small collection of particularly harsh thrusts.

With each one, his tip rams further inside you. The fourth one strikes some trigger inside you that rips a yelp from you and rockets you over the edge. Your body shudders hard beneath him while your walls spasm desperately.

"Hnghhh- Carlos- ah! You're fuckinmesogood," you babble out, eyes drooping so much they're practically closed.

You hear him growl above you and then feel his weight collapse onto your body. Your thighs are smooshed between the two of you, keeping you bent in half. He's as deep as physically possible now. That you're certain of. His cock kisses the opening of your womb with each jolt of his pelvis, making you cry out in an intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain.

His head closes in on yours, connecting the two of you in a sloppy kiss. You move without sense. Every action stems from a place of pure desire.

He knows he's getting close. And he also knows he should pull out. But he honestly doesn't know if he can right now. He's burning so hot for you that in his head, the loss of your tight walls wrapped around him may seriously result in death. It doesn't just feel good, it's pure euphoria. He's not even at the peak yet, but this feeling right now is more intense than any orgasm he's had before.

"Fuck-" he growls, trying to work up the will to slide back and burst on your stomach instead. His mouth falls away from yours, landing against the crook of your neck. "You're making this so hard for me, sweetheart," he grumbles.

You're so shaky and blissed out that the words almost pass you by, but his close proximity allows you to catch them. You know what he means without him having to say it because you feel it too. A deep yearning in the most carnal recesses of your soul, a craving for him to sate the most base desire burning within you.

"Just do it," you whimper, lazily rolling your hips up, "Cum inside."

His muscles tense. You can feel them twitching against you.

"Don't say that," he breathes.

A petulant whine seeps from between your lips. You pull him closer by the shoulders with more force, digging your nails into the skin.

"Finish inside, Carlos. Pleaseeeeee," you try again, "I'll worry about it later. Just need you to fill me up so fucking bad."

His resolve chips away piece by piece with each strike from your pleas. Reasons to detach from you that had seemed logical moments ago lose whatever little appeal they had. His mind feels overcome by the desire to pump you full of his release, to fuck his seed deep inside your awaiting cunt, to let it take.

With a rough snap, he throws his head back and groans. His fingers dig into the plush flesh of your hips. The high overcomes him in a powerful blow, whisking the air from his lungs. It makes him feel lightheaded, actions completely guided by impulse created under the influence of whatever that plant had sapped into the two of you.

Hot, thick ropes of cum shoot against your inner walls. You whine at the sensation, eyes fluttering and rolling back in satisfaction. He works it into you over and over till the urge is sated.

Finally, he feels like he won't lose all capability to function if he pulls out. He eases his hips back, slowly freeing himself from the sinful confines of your slick walls. Every inch he reveals shimmers with the combined gloss of his and your fluids. It coats the area between your thighs thoroughly, marking the site of your connection.

While the throbbing in your clit and the burning throughout your bones has lessened, dull remnants of them remain. Your chest puffs up and down as you catch your breath and recover from the intensity of before. The air still feels thick, just less like a landmine than before.

But when you gaze down between the two of you, your eyes land on his cock. He's still fully hard. The shaft stands forward proudly while the tip remains darkened in color. His need for more of you plainly visible to anyone who looked.

Your eyes flit from it up to his eyes, connecting in a tentative stare. The question between the two of you is left unspoken. Neither of you really need the words to understand that you both want more.

His hands fly to your waist again and flip you over onto your stomach. Your face squishes against the pillows as he boosts your hips to the right angle and slides right back inside. You whine at the intrusion, fingers gripping the pillow for some way to ground yourself.

He gives your ass a firm smack before leaning forward and boxing you in beneath him. You have no way of knowing for sure, but you're almost certain the thrusts reach deeper now. He's moving at the same frantic pace from before, yet every stroke feels like it bumps a sweet spot within you. That or you're just more sensitive from your previous release.

You can hear him panting in your ear as he pounds you into the mattress. Every small grunt and soft growl drifts out behind your head.

"Fuck... think we should just do this till we're all better," he murmurs and nips at your shoulder.

"Mhm," you whine, arching your back and pushing your hips against him further. The next set of words comes out slurred and muffled both from your position against the pillow and the blurry state of your mind. "Never wanna stop. Just want you all the time."

He huffs out a laugh. "Yeah? That's what you wanna do, huh? Let me fuck you nonstop? Use you till you can't fucking move anymore? Breed you till I've had my fill?"

You mewl sharply and nod eagerly. "Uh huh, give it all to me till- ah! mmm... till we're both better," you whimper.

Skin continues slapping against skin in the otherwise quiet of the room. In the back of your mind, you wonder how far down the hall the sound echoes. It's a fleeting thought though, quickly overwhelmed by the repeated thoughts of how good you feel.

"Yeah? Maybe a baby in your belly is what you need. Maybe that's what we're supposed to do. Can't get this thing out of our system till we meet nature's demands," he rasps.

He doesn't even know what he's saying. He assumes the sudden desire to procreate comes from the infection, but the words feel as though they blossom from somewhere deeper. Whatever the case, it's obvious you like them. You clamp around his cock like you're trying to drain him dry.

"I'd probably fuck you like this every night if I saw you nice and round with my baby, sweetheart. Fuck, you'd look so good. Swollen in all the right places, aching for me to take care of you," he mumbles out.

"Give it to me. Want it so bad. Wanna... mmm fuck," you trail off, panting out the lasts of your desires.

The peak builds much faster for you two this time around. You squeeze around him till your rhythmic convulsions devolve into a burst of spasms. His thrusts land hard throughout his high, but you feel his muscles tense as he pumps another load into you.

Drops of his spend leak from your cunt and smear against both of your skin. This time he doesn't even bother pulling out. He knows he's still hard and that he has one, if not more, rounds in him. He keeps fucking you hard, through your cries of overstimulation and desperate squirming.

The rest of the night is a blur. You don't count how many times you go at it or keep track of the variety of positions you do it in. You know at one point you were on top, at another your head dangled off the edge of the mattress and bobbled around like that of a doll's. The intense passion and lust pervades all memories and casts the experience in a hazy fog.

All you're sure of is that now you feel better. For the moment, the two of you are satisfied, your bodies no longer alive with an electric craving for one another. Your head rests on his chest while the rest of you presses against his side. His hand rubs up and down your back in lazy, thoughtless strokes.

Neither of you say anything. Dashes of sunlight begin to shine through the windows that sit high on the wall. Both of you bask in the calm of the moment as you grapple with what happened.

"You think that cured us?" he asks softly after a while.

You pause before shrugging. "Can't say for sure, we'll have to wait and see," you say, looking up at him.

Somewhere inside of you, you believe that was it. That was the magic fix. You're almost certain that you fucked whatever that was out of your systems, but you want to be honest with him. Still, you can't help offering a little reassurance.

"We'll be ok," you say with a small smile.

He returns it. "If you're the one taking care of me, I don't doubt that," he teases.

You hum and squeeze your arms around his waist. Questions of a changed relationship status or potential future together going forward plague your mind, but you know it's not the time. If your supervisors hadn't heard the racket coming from in here, they'd realize something was up as soon as you and Carlos emerged from the same bedroom. You decide to take what semblance of peace with him you can get before having to face a possible onslaught of hazmat suits and probing tests.

In one swift movement, he hooks his hand under your knee, tugging your leg over his thigh. You can feel the muscles of it flex through his thin sleep shorts, pressing up against you to silently encourage you to grind against it.

You fall into his offer easily, burying your face into his neck. His skin is so warm, so soft, begging to be sucked and marked.

Mouthing at it mindlessly, you moan his name, teeth grazing along his slow and steady pulse. A content sound rumbles from his broad chest, where your breasts nearly spill out of your rumpled tank top to push against it.

Then he mumbles, grabbing at his phone on the bedside table.

"What—" You suck in a breath, moaning as you rotate your hips, finding a spot in your dry humping that sends pleasure sparking straight from your clit to your core. "What are you doing?"

"Checking," Xavier says unhelpfully, squinting against the brightness of his phone screen in the dim light of his bedroom.

"Checking what?"

His voice is melodic, content when he replies, "You’re ovulating."

You huff, pulling back from his spit-slicked, love-bitten neck to see him smiling at you in satisfaction.

Your hand finds his chin, squishing his cheeks.

"Cocky," you accuse breathlessly, your grip landing on his shoulder to leverage yourself over him.

You straddle his strong thigh, head tossed back as you grind up and down, bouncing on it. Following that build of hot tension coiling in your gut, your own thighs squeezing and shaking around his.

Xavier hums, hungrily eyeing the peek down your disheveled tank top to your bouncing breasts. Your nipples are hard, clearly visible and tempting, and he licks his lips.

Lost in your pleasure, you miss the wicked spark of mischief in his eyes before he closes them, leaning his head back against the pillow.

"I’m sleepy."

You freeze in your eager movements, mouth agape.

"Really, Xav?" you whine, hips wiggling against him before you force yourself to still.

You wouldn't be mad if he was too tired to deal with it right now. But being this horny and wet and nearly out of your mind with it, you'd have to find some other way to cum.

Did you leave your vibrator in his drawer? He wouldn't mind if you pulled it out, right?

You're about to ask when his slender fingers brush against your pelvis, finding where your shirt had ridden up. His calluses graze along the trim of your panties, and your muscles jump in sensitivity, before he moves to shift his own shirt up.

The fabric settles around his soft tummy, and he strokes those long fingers across his smooth skin, down the trail of silver hair that disappears beneath his sleep shorts. He tugs the waistband down, revealing the gray band of his briefs, and just a hint of the mouth-watering, heavy bulge straining against the tight fabric.

"Feel free to use me as you please, angel," Xavier murmurs, blue eyes dark and fixed on you through heavy lids.

You inhale sharply, staring at him wide-eyed.

"Really?" Your fingers brush against the gray band, and you tug down his sleep shorts more to see his growing erection. "You're sure?"

Xavier nods his consent, watching you lazily, his hand curling around the back of your thigh. His fingertips dig into your plush skin, stroking higher to find where your slick had soaked through your panties, dampening your inner thighs.

He tugs you forward, encouraging you to sit yourself on where he hangs, hot and heavy between his legs. You moan at the shock of pleasure, even with the thin layers of fabric still between you.

"Yes," Xavier moans his assurance, his eyes locked onto yours. "Take what you need from me. I wanna watch you."

At his encouragement, you hook your thumbs into his briefs, pulling them down with his shorts until you finally see him, thick and throbbing, waiting for you. You drag your finger along the pulsating vein on the underside of his cock and watch him twitch, your pussy fluttering in anticipation.

You stroke him slowly, palm slick with your own spit, just admiring how ruddy his tip gets before it begins to leak precum. Your thumb circles it, dipping into his hole to watch it stick to your skin when you pull back.

His breaths are slow and even, but his hips roll gently into your grasp, his languid gaze not lifting from you for a second.

"Don't you want it?" he teases you, his slickened cock thrusting up once through your fingers, and you shiver. "It's all for you. Take it."

You hear the soft intake of his breath, matching your own gasp when you finally tug your ruined panties to the side to brush your drenched cunt against him.

Your hips roll, trapping his length between his abdomen and your pussy, encompassing him in the glide along your wet lips, languid and unhurried in the early morning light.

"There you go," Xavier breathes, his thumb rubbing along your inner thigh. "What a pretty sight. Just for me," the last part is mumbled to himself, and you bite your lip to stifle a whine.

Your breathing grows heavy, head falling back between your shoulders, vision unfocused on the star-shaped fairy lights that hang from the corner of his ceiling while you grind along his cock. You gasp each time his head notches on your entrance, trying to eagerly suck him in with each pass, and moan when he slips back out to rub against your aching clit.

When you turn your attention back to Xavier, his arm is stretched out beside his head, fingers twitching. His Adam's apple bobs, the hickeys you just left littering the side of his neck as he watches you with half-lidded eyes, fluffy hair fanned out against his pillow. Not caring about his own pleasure, just enjoying seeing you take yours.

"You're so pretty," you whisper, watching how his eyelashes flutter, his brows pinching with a quiet moan at your praise. "You know that, right? So, so pretty."

You glance down, watching each time his reddened tip reappears from under your grinding, slicker with each pass.

"Such a pretty cock, too," you praise, and you feel him twitch at your words, throbbing within your folds. "Mine."

His face is flushed when you look back up at him, aroused and bashful in equal measures.

"Yours," he breathes, and you feel yourself start to fall apart.

Your hips quicken, jerking back and forth rapidly, that cord of pleasure tightening in your core, at the base of your spine.

Honestly, you could come like this, and the longer you watch him, utterly relaxed and drinking in the sight of you, the more you want to.

You grip his cock, moaning when he grunts, and tap his drenched tip against your clit, hips jolting with the pleasure that shoots through you.

"F-fuck," you gasp.

Thighs trembling, you rub yourself against the head of his cock, using him to get yourself off. You buck against the stimulation when his leaking hole catches against your clit, circling it.

"Wanna watch you cum right on my clit." Louder moans escape you as you feel that pleasure sparking, brightening, about to consume you. "I wanna see it, Xavier, please. Please?"

You look up at him through your lashes, completely debauched and so close to your orgasm, desperate for it, and Xavier breaks.

His eyes go wide and glazed over; broken, stuttered moans and gasps escaping where he'd been biting his own lip when he cums.

You whine, watching each load flood, hot and slick against your clit. It drips down where your hand grips him, still rubbing his tip against yourself as his cum shoots from it, and you cry out, short and sharp, when you cum right after him.

The orgasm blooms from your center, warming you with each wave, leaving him drenched, from his happy trail up to his abdomen. As the peak begins to ebb, you try and catch yourself on your arm, but your limbs give out, and you collapse onto his chest as he pants for breath.

Xavier's arms wrap around you instantly, gathering you close, and you curl into him, hips still twitching from the strength of your orgasm.

He presses soft kisses into your hair, and down your face. His thumb finds your chin, and he tilts your head back, meeting your lips in a long, content kiss.

"Feel better?" he asks, warm breath caressing your lips.

You burrow into him with a happy hum. "Much better."

"Mm, good." Xavier's fingers rub soothing circles into your inner thigh before dragging up through your folds, collecting the strings of cum before pushing them into your neglected hole.

You moan from the overstimulation, holding onto him tighter as he slowly scissors them, pumping in and out.

He sounds utterly serene when he kisses your forehead, but you hear the smirk in his voice when he says, "Now we have the rest of the day to make sure you don't waste another drop."

“You’re lucky the sun isn’t up yet or you’d really be in trouble.”

You close the rest of the distance between the two of you, ending up behind his chair. Your hands each land on one of his shoulders. You carefully massage the stiff muscles there.

“You have to come to bed,” you continue, a little less firm and a little more pleading.

A soft sigh falls from his lips. “I know you want that. But I have to work.”

“You do not!” He winces as you squeeze his shoulders particularly hard. “The case is at a point with no leads. One solid night of rest won’t bring everything crashing down," you say.

“The case having no leads is why I need to work on it. Do you think they just pop up out of thin air?” he asks, tilting his head back to look up at you.

“You can find them just as easily during hours with sunlight. If you keep depriving yourself of sleep, you’ll just get sloppy and you might miss an important clue entirely!” you argue.

The clicks of the keyboard stop for a moment. One of his thin hands comes up to rest on top of yours. His fingertips rub little soothing stripes on your hand.

“As much as I appreaciate your concern, I really don’t need you to set a bedtime for me,” he says.

Your frown deepens as you sense your points aren’t landing with him.

“Ellieeeeeee,” you whine, using the silly nickname you’d taken to calling him over the course of your relationship. Normally you only use it while joking around. But maybe it’ll be useful in trying to soften him up too.

You spin his chair in your direction slightly and shift around to stand in front of him.

“Yes?” he says, calm as ever.

You glare at him for a moment before tugging one foot off his seat and then the other. His new position allows you to slip into his lap.

“Why do you hate me?” you ask and slump your head over onto his shoulder.

“Where did you get that idea?” he asks. One of his arms loops around your waist while his other hand comes to rub your thigh.

“Why can’t you let me take care of you? You’re gonna make yourself sick. You don’t eat right. You never sleep enough. You don’t do anything but work, work, work, work-”

“I talk to you,” he interjects.

“Not enough.” You pout.

A moment of silence passes over the room. You sigh quietly. You don’t understand why you do this to yourself. Why you try to make him change when you don’t even think he’s capable of that. Probably cause you love him or whatever.

“Can I at least sit here with you for a little while?” you ask quietly.

He looks down at your face and then his lap, as if weighing the option of having you here against sitting in his usual position. After a little pause, he nods.

“Of course you can stay,” he says.

He scoots his chair back towards the desk, putting only one of his hands back on his keyboard. The other stays on the small of your back.

The two of you sit there for a while. He works on whatever string of murders he’s been called in to solve this month, and you stare at the wall. You lazily swing your foot back and forth. Although you seem content, you haven’t given up on your plan to make him rest.

Your mind runs over possible solutions. Slipping something into his drink would be wrong. He only ever eats sugar, so it’s not like he’ll get drowsy from any of the snacks he likes. You don’t even know anything else that makes him tired. You almost always fall asleep before him if he does come to bed at night. The only time it’s the other way around is-

And that’s when you have it.

The only times L knocks out before you is after he cums. After that moment of blissful release, he goes boneless, and in the comfort of your arms, that translates to falling asleep in mere minutes. You aren’t sure if it will work at his desk, but it’s worth a shot.

Your lips press against his throat once, twice, and then three times. You kiss his jaw and his cheek and his temple. He tilts his head away from you slightly, but your mouth follows.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his hand on the computer still moving.

“Nothing,” you say. You rub his chest and plant a few more kisses on his skin.

“You’re trying to tempt me,” he answers for you.

“Nuh uh.”

“You are.”

“Am not! Gosh, why do you have to be so suspicious about everything? Not everyone has an ulterior motive, mr. detective.”

“Maybe not everyone, but you certainly do,” he says, a faint smile playing at his lips. “You act like I don’t know you. Like I’m not used to your little games by now.”

You give him an unamused look. Of course, he’s right. But you’re fed up with him thinking he’s right.

Instead of proceeding with this back-and-forth, you slide off his lap and down to your knees between his own. Your hands take the spots on his thighs. You look up at him from beneath the desk.

L’s eyes are always wide, but you think you see them grow a little larger as he takes in what you want.

“What brought this on?” he asks, reaching down to stroke your head.

“Isn’t being close to you enough?” you say.

He stares at you. The room is dark, but you can still see the color rising to his face, the light pink dusting his cheeks and nose.

“I guess it is…” he says.

“I know it is. Being near you, watching you be all focused and stuff… thinking about how you should be in bed focused on me...”

You lean your head against his thigh. Your fingers snake up to his waist and find the button on his jeans. You pop it open, letting the feeling of the fabric going limp linger for a few moments before you tug it down.

Your mouth waters as soon as his cock comes into view. It’s long and heavy, resting against one of his thighs. You can’t wrap your fingers around it fast enough.

His breath hitches, and his head tilts back. He does nothing to stop you. The clicking on the keyboard finally stops. You see in your peripheral vision that his arm goes lax.

“Suddenly you don’t need to work that bad, hm?” you say. Despite your narrowed eyes, your hand starts to stroke him gently.

A stained hum vibrates in his throat. He grits his teeth before choking out an answer.

“A short break won’t hurt.”

“You’re such a liar,” you huff.

“It’s not a lie. You’re quite efficient at this. It usually takes you around 11 minutes to make me finish. Much faster than the eight hours you want me to sleep.”

You just blink at that little statistic he laid on you.

“Whatever. You’re gonna sleep for nine hours after I’m done with you.”

You tighten your grip ever so slightly and bring his cock closer. Your tongue pokes out to lick at the tip. You start with soft little swipes on the silky head. Just the way he knows you like.

His foot taps beside your leg. He keeps his composure for the most part though and shakes his head.

“Doubtful. I’ll be just fine. You on the other hand, your jaw will probably be aching for the rest of the night,” he teases.

“As if,” you scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m more than used to you by now.”

You can hear the playful quality of his exhale, but you stop him from saying anything else by popping his tip between your lips. You hadn’t been lying. You were more than used to him, and with being used to him, came knowing exactly what he likes.

Your tongue glides all around the plump head. You lave at his slit while keeping your grip on the base firm. He groans, the sound vibrating from his sternum upward.. His legs tense up on either side of you.

You reward the display by sucking him a little deeper. This is just build up, a precursor to his favorite part, and you both know it. You stroke along his prominent veins with your plush muscle as your saliva coats his skin, dripping down past your lips a little.

Then, all in one go, you take most of his cock down your throat. You hold yourself there for a moment before coming up just as quick and then going down once more. He jerks in his chair, his body unsure of what to do with the sudden onslaught of sensation.

“Fuck,” he hisses, whiteknuckling the armrests on his chair.

You continue with the fast, warm suction of your mouth, speeding along as if you’re in a hurry to make him cum. He whimpers above you. It’s hard not to get a little worked up yourself when you hear his pretty sounds.

After a few more bobs of your head, you pull off. His dick shimmers with your spit in the low light. A thin strand of the fluid hangs from your lips.

You continue stroking him while you look up to see if his face is fully flush yet. To your dismay, it’s not. He’s still as pale as he was before. But his eyes are becoming more lidded which pleases you.

“It’s possible you might beat your normal time tonight,” he says, his voice lower.

You laugh softly at that and plant a little kiss on his tip. “Probably cause you’re so tired. Sleep deprivation can’t be good for your stamina,” you say smugly. Now that you hold the advantage, you can’t help rubbing it in a little.

But he only tsks at you. “The opposite is true really. If I was actually sleep deprived, I wouldn’t be able to get hard at all. Erectile function is greatly impacted by-”

He’s cut off by one of his own moans as you slide his cock back down your throat. His hips buck this time, so you know he’s getting closer.

You increase your efforts. Your mouth moves quickly and with as much precision as you can muster. Your hand drops to cup his balls.

He pants, and the noises flowing from his lips grow more strained, more full of need. He’s trying to choke out words, but all he can get out are pathetic, broken fragments of whines. You don’t help him out any. You don’t stop or slow down in the slightest.

Finally, he manages a “I’m gonna cum.”

It’s not like you can verbally urge him along since your mouth is otherwise occupied. All you can do is keep dragging your tongue along his shaft, keep bobbing your head in quick, fluid motions. He moans once more before you feel the final spasm in his hips.

Then the taste of his release hits your tongue. He spurts ropes of sticky white into the back of your throat. You swallow it down and keep your mouth around him as he throbs against your tongue. He shudders lightly, the waves of euphoria work their way through him.

When he’s finally done, when you can feel he’s going soft, you pull off of him. You wipe your lips with the heel of your palm and then look up at him.

A smile slowly spreads across your face.

He’s slumped back in his chair, that pink color more intense across his cheeks. His eyelids look heavier, like they want to close. His chest rises and falls, slowly and evenly as he catches his breath again.

You rise to your feet and lean down to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“You still feel like working?” you ask playfully.

His dark eyes shift to you. “You really don’t play fair.”

“That’s cause you like being dirty,” you say.