4) slow sex while one or both are injured (bonus points if it’s after a battle or after they’ve patched up each other’s wounds)
(Carlisle)
Thank you, nonnie!
Esme could only recall meeting newborns a handful of times after her own transformation. Even then, they were newborns that ultimately joined her coven. The ones they had met that afternoon both terrified and upset her; children made weapons for revenge. Esme tried to save one of them, watched fear flash in red eyes and, despite Esme's efforts, she watched as the young girl succumbed to the Volturi guard.
Esme hadn't come away unscathed. Once the adrenaline had worn off Esme was made aware of the burning across the back of her left shoulder.
Carlisle had coaxed her jacket away from her skin, a hiss pushed through teeth as fibres peeled away from the open wound. It was a bite mark, of course, but not without deep scratches around it. Esme couldn't even recall who made it, nor when she got it, but Carlisle insisted he clean her up.
She sat patiently, biting her tongue as she tried not to tell him to stop worrying. He would only stop once he had made sure she was okay and her wound was clean and patched. Not that she really needed it; vampiric healing had already started knitting flesh back together, but Carlisle was a doctor first and foremost.
She watched him dress her upper arm before turning her attention to his face which was lined with concentration. His face was caked with dirt and she couldn't help the way she licked the pad of her thumb, rubbing the marks away. It would do for now, but he'd need a shower, too.
He captured her hand on her third attempt, kissing her knuckles while smiling against her fingers.
His other hand came to tuck loose tendrils behind his wife's ear. His palm lingered against her cheek as he pulled away, only inviting Esme to turn her head so she could press a kiss against his palm.
Before he could pull away completely, Esme grabbed the front of his shirt, momentarily resting their foreheads against one another before tentatively kissing him. His hands instinctively ran across her shoulders and down her arms which encited a sharp exhale from Esme and a mumbled apology from Carlisle.
The interruption was brief, discarded medical supplies being knocked over and hitting the floor as she beckoned him back in for a deeper, longer kiss.
As much as the bite hurt, the reminder that her coven—her husband—survived, was a balm in itself.
And so she kissed him like she had before the battle, except this time with the passion of celebration instead of impending doom. Every encounter they survived was a reminder of what they could lose and what they had built together as a coven.
At some point, she stood only so she could turn them around and sit Carlisle against the desk. The briefest moment spent pressed against each other allowed her to feel his desire. It was her turn to smile into her kiss.
She pulled away, only to peel away his shirt and expose his chiseled like physique beneath flimsy fabric. In the soft wash of his study lights, he looked nothing short of angelic.
His fingers worked the buttons of her jeans as she removed her own top, not bothering with her bra as she turned her attention to his belt and fly. His hips lifted to allow her to pull them around his mid thighs (along with his boxers), but they were too lazy to remove them completely.
Her own jeans fell around her feet, but in eagerness to feel him completely, Esme only moved her panties aside as she rested her knees either side of him and sank down his length.
She couldn't stop the moan that formed at the back of her throat. Their arms encircled one another, but Esme's pace remained slow— bordering on sloppy.
They hadn't appreciated the moment since Alice's vision and preparing for the newborns, so right now she would allow herself to indulge every sensation.
Her hips rolled, gleefully aiding her to take more and more of him until he was fully sheathed inside of her. Every now and then she would pull back to his very tip, pausing only to hear him beg for her as he alternated between sucking her nipples and kneading her breasts with his fingers.
She could feel her wetness running down the inside of her thigh, the stickiness no doubt soiling the table face too, but at this particular moment, Esme didn't care.
She continued to take him, her head tipped back in silent ecstasy as she worked them towards their climaxes, her walls clenching around him as her pace quickened and yet still remained equally as lazy. She could feel every inch of him, the way his cock was throbbing inside of her. In amongst whispered sweet nothings, Carlisle's hand came between them to circle her sensitive bundle of nerves.
His fingers finally caused her to come undone around him and she shook as she came, her orgasm nearly pushing him out of her. He drove his hips into her, meeting her uneven, shaky thrusts with his own before spilling himself inside of her with a deep, long moan.
For a while after, that's how they remained. Esme rested her forehead against his shoulder as Carlisle's hands rested against her ass, squeezing the flesh there every now and then.
He picked her up and turned them around, gently coaxing her to fold across the table. His fingers make quick work of ripping her pants off her, tossing the fabric away without another thought. His fingers played against her entrance, using her wetness to coat his member before he pushed into her, louder moans emitting from the both of them but not allowing a pause.
His hips started an unrelenting pace; Esme's fingers gripped around the edge of the tabletop. Her knees were weak, only able to concentrate on the pleasure coursing through her.
One of Carlisle's arms hooked underneath her stomach as he folded across her, holding her to him while never ceasing the way he pumped into her.
His lips peppered kisses against her neck; in between them, he told her to cum around him. The desperation and hunger in his voice was enough to have him clenching around him as her orgasm hit. If her knees were weak before, they were weaker now. Carlisle's hold on her tightened as his own orgasm rolled through him, Esme feeling his release pouring into her.
He pulled out, erecting Esme with him as he straightened. His cum dripped down the inside of her thighs, causing a shiver as she breathed through her post orgasm haze.
A kiss was pressed against her shoulder as Carlisle brushed fingers across stretch marks that served as a reminder of her human life. She whispered a breathy "I love you" before Carlisle released her, his footsteps filling the silence only for him to return with their nightgowns.
The rest of the evening was spent in front of a burning fire, snuggled into each others sides. Morning would come soon enough, but for now this was all they needed.
@newbrn asked: "i think... you're a really good mom." (thank you!)
Esme can't pretend that she's used to having someone home all the time. With Rosalie and Emmett's own newborn stages now nothing more than a memory, Esme has forgotten what it's like have a newborn around.
There is trust, not only in Bree, but in herself which makes a world of difference. Rosalie trusted no-one, only tentatively accepting aid from Esme on the grounds she happened to be another woman; Emmett was large and intimidating, almost too much for them to handle together, let alone by Esme alone.
The company has proven a nice addition. Sometimes they talk, sometimes not. Sometimes they hunt and other times they enjoy the forest and the sounds around them. Whatever, there is never any pressure. Watching Bree come into her own has truly been a blessing for Esme.
Bree's words catch Esme unexpectedly while she's figuring out how to phrase an email to the school board.
It takes a moment for the words to process, almost scared she misheard. It hitches the breath in her throat which she dismisses with a cough so to not allow her emotion to scare the young girl or cause her to regret ever saying it.
Eventually, she lifts her head to find Bree's eyes. "That means a lot to me, thank you." Despite her efforts, her voice can't help how it wavers in lieu of tears. "I do the best I can and just hope it's enough. Everyone here deserves that."
@newbrn asked: ❝ you always feel really comfortable and safe to be around. ❞ (thank you!)
If Esme could blush, her cheeks would be a fine pink. Instead, Bree's comment rests at the corners of Esme's lips, inviting a warm smile. That's all Esme wants to be able to do; not just for Bree, but for everyone in this coven-turned family.
She's working on a paper for a conference in a couple of days. Never in her wildest dreams did she believe she'd work, especially in this capacity. This immortal life had its drawbacks at times, but she can't ignore the gifts it has given her, the chances she has been rewarded.
She lowers the screen of her laptop so she can meet the Cullen's latest member's gaze. "I'm glad you feel that way." Truly, it's a relief to learn that Bree is starting to feel comfortable here. Esme knows of the tension between Bree and Jasper, but she hopes it's merely a teething problem (forgive the pun) and nothing more serious. "I remember how scary it was to be a newborn. I would hate to add to your struggles."
