Fic: The Doctor Is In (Carlisle/Esme, NC17)
Title: The Doctor Is In
Pairing: Carlisle/Esme
Rating: NC17 for bad language and het
Summary: Not seeing enough of Carlisle at home, Esme decides to take matters into her own hands.
A/N: Written for the Twilight Kink Meme, for the prompt "Esme/Carlisle, playing doctor". Pretty much pure PWP; movieverse. I'm a new fan, so, er - please be gentle?
Esme loved Carlisle.
She loved him with all her heart, all her body, all her soul - and the only reason she was certain on that last point was because he'd convinced her she could never, ever be something unholy, never lose what made her good despite the hunger - and that hadn't changed despite decades passing.
She still held her breath every time he entered the room. He was breathtakingly beautiful and it had taken a long, long time before she could quieten the voice inside her saying that she didn't deserve him.
Still, sometimes he could get a little distracted. He took his job seriously, and she respected that, but sometimes she felt he deserved a break he wouldn't allow himself.
Thankfully, modern literature had become quite enlightened and interesting regarding certain aspects of marriage.
"Hello Mrs... Smith?" Carlisle read from his screen before looking up and blinking in surprise. "Esme?"
"Oh, Doctor Cullen," Esme began, trying not to smile too much and spoil the game early, thankful for the self-confidence years in the same body with the same abilities had granted her. "I feel quite feverish, I hope you can help."
Carlisle blinked again before his eyes crinkled just faintly in amusement, telltale. "Well, Mrs Smith, that depends on the cause of the fever. Would you mind if I had a listen?" He asked, tapping her lightly above the sternum.
"Oh, certainly, though I'm not sure I have anything to listen to," Esme replied, faking a quick gasp when he pressed the stethoscope to her skin, gasping for real when he lightly cupped her left breast and rubbed his thumb across her nipple.
"Everything sounds healthy here, but lets make certain, shall we?" He repeated the move on her right breast, surprising her by pinching hard for a moment before pulling away. "Well, your lungs and heart seem to be in perfect order Mrs Smith. Have you any other symptoms?"
"Oh, certainly Doctor Cullen - I have the most terrible itch in... oh, I can't bring myself to say it," She said, folding her hands in front of her lap and looking up through her eyelashes, grateful for the clear hunger in his eyes as a sign that she wasn't simply embarrassing herself.
"Well, Es- Mrs Smith, I'm sure we can clear that up for you. Shall we have a little look?" His lips twitched faintly before he gestured to the examination table. "Just strip from the waist down and I'll see what I can do."
If she hadn't already been soaking wet, watching him pull on the standard pair of plastic gloves before coating them generously in lubricant would have done the trick; as it stood, she knew the plastic sheeting of the table would need rapid replacement after she was through with it.
The panties were easily enough discarded, her skirt easy to hitch up to her waist, and she hopped lightly up onto the table, keeping her legs closed for the moment and shivering through and through when he slid his right hand between them, knowing her preferences all too well, index and middle finger slipping in easily while his thumb pressed against her clit. "Ah, I think I can feel the source of the problem," Carlisle announced, proceeding to slowly, torturously finger-fuck her, the movements of his thumb starting off equally slow and firm.
The beautiful, unnaturally beautiful bastard knew her far too well for his own good. "I don't think my fever feels any better, Doctor Cullen."
"Just give me a moment, Mrs Smith, it'll take a little while to warm up," He replied, smiling broadly, and just a little wickedly.
The too-smooth surface of lubricant-smeared gloves offered little for her to grip onto but it didn't change her instinctive need to clamp down, squeezing his fingers tight inside her, and it didn't change the way the rapid circular movements of his thumb around her clit made her weak-kneed, spreading her legs further despite the relatively limited span of the table. "Carlisle, I, I mean, Doctor Cullen?"
"Mmm?" He replied, trying to look compassionate in a distant, disinterested way and mostly failing courtesy of the spark in his eyes and the cool sweat of his brow.
"Would you..?"
Something flared behind his eyes then and he stilled his hand suddenly before pulling it away. "I think I know just the cure for you," He replied before licking his lips and pulling off the gloves, discarding them with meticulous care in the medical waste bin before helping her up onto the edge of the table, her thighs smearing lubricant and more against the plastic cover in the process. "Just the right cure for your sort," He repeated, before unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers, freeing his erection and pushing up into her hard, letting her legs settle around his waist and keeping one of his hands trapped between them, firm against her clit even as she bucked against him, and God, she had missed this, always missed it when he wasn't inside her, so beautiful, so damn beautiful -
"Oh God," She gasped, breaking against him, shivery and so close and so far at the same time, aching through and through, "Oh God,"
"I know," He replied before he had to free both hands so he could brace himself against the table, fucking her so hard, nearly ruining the table in the process and then, then he was coming, wet through the wet inside her and she was sobbing her own orgasm out against his ear, her final throes shaking the table as if an earthquake had passed through the building, and she'd be sore for the rest of the day for certain but couldn't bring herself to care a damn.
"Amazing," She began, breathless and almost awed by the fact she could still manage actual words.
"Nnn," Carlisle vaguely agreed against her ear before nuzzling her neck with his nose and murmuring, "God, I love you."
"Uh-huh," She replied, similarly coherent and reluctant to move her legs from around his waist even if they were aching a little. "We miss you at home."
"Bronchitis outbreak," He replied by way of explanation, before pulling away and helping her up, adjusting his clothes first and then assisting with her own. "Although, I suppose..." He paused for a moment, bit his lip while looking all too guilty. "I could call in sick for a few days."
"You're so pretty when you're lying," Esme replied before kissing him firmly. "Do what makes you happiest. We'll wait."
"Promise?" He asked, smiling and evidently tired but coping.
"I promise." She smiled back and ran a hand through his hair before finishing straightening herself up to leave the office. "We have forever, after all."
Pairing: Carlisle/Esme
Rating: NC17 for bad language and het
Summary: Not seeing enough of Carlisle at home, Esme decides to take matters into her own hands.
A/N: Written for the Twilight Kink Meme, for the prompt "Esme/Carlisle, playing doctor". Pretty much pure PWP; movieverse. I'm a new fan, so, er - please be gentle?
Esme loved Carlisle.
She loved him with all her heart, all her body, all her soul - and the only reason she was certain on that last point was because he'd convinced her she could never, ever be something unholy, never lose what made her good despite the hunger - and that hadn't changed despite decades passing.
She still held her breath every time he entered the room. He was breathtakingly beautiful and it had taken a long, long time before she could quieten the voice inside her saying that she didn't deserve him.
Still, sometimes he could get a little distracted. He took his job seriously, and she respected that, but sometimes she felt he deserved a break he wouldn't allow himself.
Thankfully, modern literature had become quite enlightened and interesting regarding certain aspects of marriage.
"Hello Mrs... Smith?" Carlisle read from his screen before looking up and blinking in surprise. "Esme?"
"Oh, Doctor Cullen," Esme began, trying not to smile too much and spoil the game early, thankful for the self-confidence years in the same body with the same abilities had granted her. "I feel quite feverish, I hope you can help."
Carlisle blinked again before his eyes crinkled just faintly in amusement, telltale. "Well, Mrs Smith, that depends on the cause of the fever. Would you mind if I had a listen?" He asked, tapping her lightly above the sternum.
"Oh, certainly, though I'm not sure I have anything to listen to," Esme replied, faking a quick gasp when he pressed the stethoscope to her skin, gasping for real when he lightly cupped her left breast and rubbed his thumb across her nipple.
"Everything sounds healthy here, but lets make certain, shall we?" He repeated the move on her right breast, surprising her by pinching hard for a moment before pulling away. "Well, your lungs and heart seem to be in perfect order Mrs Smith. Have you any other symptoms?"
"Oh, certainly Doctor Cullen - I have the most terrible itch in... oh, I can't bring myself to say it," She said, folding her hands in front of her lap and looking up through her eyelashes, grateful for the clear hunger in his eyes as a sign that she wasn't simply embarrassing herself.
"Well, Es- Mrs Smith, I'm sure we can clear that up for you. Shall we have a little look?" His lips twitched faintly before he gestured to the examination table. "Just strip from the waist down and I'll see what I can do."
If she hadn't already been soaking wet, watching him pull on the standard pair of plastic gloves before coating them generously in lubricant would have done the trick; as it stood, she knew the plastic sheeting of the table would need rapid replacement after she was through with it.
The panties were easily enough discarded, her skirt easy to hitch up to her waist, and she hopped lightly up onto the table, keeping her legs closed for the moment and shivering through and through when he slid his right hand between them, knowing her preferences all too well, index and middle finger slipping in easily while his thumb pressed against her clit. "Ah, I think I can feel the source of the problem," Carlisle announced, proceeding to slowly, torturously finger-fuck her, the movements of his thumb starting off equally slow and firm.
The beautiful, unnaturally beautiful bastard knew her far too well for his own good. "I don't think my fever feels any better, Doctor Cullen."
"Just give me a moment, Mrs Smith, it'll take a little while to warm up," He replied, smiling broadly, and just a little wickedly.
The too-smooth surface of lubricant-smeared gloves offered little for her to grip onto but it didn't change her instinctive need to clamp down, squeezing his fingers tight inside her, and it didn't change the way the rapid circular movements of his thumb around her clit made her weak-kneed, spreading her legs further despite the relatively limited span of the table. "Carlisle, I, I mean, Doctor Cullen?"
"Mmm?" He replied, trying to look compassionate in a distant, disinterested way and mostly failing courtesy of the spark in his eyes and the cool sweat of his brow.
"Would you..?"
Something flared behind his eyes then and he stilled his hand suddenly before pulling it away. "I think I know just the cure for you," He replied before licking his lips and pulling off the gloves, discarding them with meticulous care in the medical waste bin before helping her up onto the edge of the table, her thighs smearing lubricant and more against the plastic cover in the process. "Just the right cure for your sort," He repeated, before unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers, freeing his erection and pushing up into her hard, letting her legs settle around his waist and keeping one of his hands trapped between them, firm against her clit even as she bucked against him, and God, she had missed this, always missed it when he wasn't inside her, so beautiful, so damn beautiful -
"Oh God," She gasped, breaking against him, shivery and so close and so far at the same time, aching through and through, "Oh God,"
"I know," He replied before he had to free both hands so he could brace himself against the table, fucking her so hard, nearly ruining the table in the process and then, then he was coming, wet through the wet inside her and she was sobbing her own orgasm out against his ear, her final throes shaking the table as if an earthquake had passed through the building, and she'd be sore for the rest of the day for certain but couldn't bring herself to care a damn.
"Amazing," She began, breathless and almost awed by the fact she could still manage actual words.
"Nnn," Carlisle vaguely agreed against her ear before nuzzling her neck with his nose and murmuring, "God, I love you."
"Uh-huh," She replied, similarly coherent and reluctant to move her legs from around his waist even if they were aching a little. "We miss you at home."
"Bronchitis outbreak," He replied by way of explanation, before pulling away and helping her up, adjusting his clothes first and then assisting with her own. "Although, I suppose..." He paused for a moment, bit his lip while looking all too guilty. "I could call in sick for a few days."
"You're so pretty when you're lying," Esme replied before kissing him firmly. "Do what makes you happiest. We'll wait."
"Promise?" He asked, smiling and evidently tired but coping.
"I promise." She smiled back and ran a hand through his hair before finishing straightening herself up to leave the office. "We have forever, after all."