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[pengweng-quack]

Bloodbound

Carlisle Cullen x Human!OC

Summary: Place Carlisle in the Edward situation of falling in love with a human, and see what happens

Chapter 7/?

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Notes:

This is on Ao3 under the same title and username if you'd like to read it there (https://archiveofourown.org/works/54527830)

Decided to post this one early because writer's block is writer's blocking lol

Leave your thoughts (or don't, your choice) in the comments, I enjoy reading through your thoughts :)

Word Count: 2511 words

General warning: I used some religious references in this story so read with caution if you're not so keen into reading that

TW for this chapter: None

PM or Comment to be added on the taglist for this one!

Masterlist

Everyone noticed the change in the relationship between Dr. Cullen and Nurse Celine, having picked up the subtle looks at each other. Even without any explicit confirmation, the meaningful looks exchanged, especially from Dr. Cullen's eyes, were enough to indicate that something had changed between them.

“After discussing schedule issues with the morning people, Doctor Cullen wanted me to announce that we’ll soon go to having morning shifts now.” Celine announced to everyone in the night shift that was having some sort of snack in the cafeteria

 “Always the first to know.” Nurse Sean teased her

He was the first one to pick up that what used to be pinning before was now mutual, the telltale glow in Doctor Cullen's eyes whenever Celine's name was mentioned spoke volumes, confirming the shift in their relationship

“You are kind of forgetting that I’m still his chief nurse.” She replied, playfully rolling her eyes at the redhead “Did you hit your head too hard in Italy?”

“Yeah Sean, besides, if Doc Cullen wanted her, they would have been together already.” Nurse Eunice said, before looking at Celine “So, are you dating? Because it’s clearer than a glass that he wants you.”

“Oh my god. No, we are not.” Celine said, having answered the same question already.

They weren’t exclusively dating, but the quick kisses that they share in their office just before they go back to work says otherwise.

They weren’t exclusively dating, but Carlisle turning down every sort of affection from other nurses and patients except for Celine’s says otherwise.

They weren’t exclusively dating, but Celine allowing only Carlisle to be the one to take her home after a long shift says otherwise.

They weren’t exclusively dating, but they might already be.

“There’s no shame in dating him. And as you said, he’s single.” Eunice teased her, wiggling her eyebrows playfully

“Eunice, no.” Celine said, shaking her head no with a smile “We’re just friends, don’t make me the topic of this week’s hospital gossip.”

“Yeah, the morning shift nurses think that Doctor Cullen being in the morning shift gives them some chances now.” Sean said, rolling his eyes “Do they not know that Doctor Cullen only likes the chief nurse of Forks Hospital?”

“Already the gossip of the morning shift, still the gossip of the night shift?” Carlisle asked, walking through their table with a box of donuts on one hand and a tray of coffee on another

“I guess you’re just too pretty to not be talk of the town.” Celine said, amused as she helps him with the food that he got for them

“Well, you would be talk of the country then if that’s the basis.” Carlisle said, a teasing grin on his face as she rolls her eyes at him “Eat up, wouldn’t want my best team to get hungry.”

“Wouldn’t want your Celine to be hungry, you say.” Sean teased him, opening the donut box and grabbing one for himself

Celine watched Carlisle grab a disposable cup and drink out of it. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as to what was in the cup for him to actually drink it, Carlisle’s told her multiple times that he doesn’t intake anything other than animal blood, so the sight of him drinking out of a coffee cup confused her.

“Animal blood.” Carlisle whispered so quietly to Celine that she almost didn’t hear it if she wasn’t tuning out Sean and Eunice’s bantering “Threw the content of the cup so I could replace it with my drink.”

“Of course, why didn’t I figure that out?” Celine said, rolling her eyes with herself.

She grabbed one of the iced drinks, having told Carlisle once that she prefers iced beverages over hot ones after yelling a string of curses from burning her tongue.

The fact that he remembered that simple information she’s shared warmed her up deeply.

“So, will the four of us be in the morning shift, or just some selected ones?” Sean asked them

“Well, they’re asking for Nurse Celine to stay in the night shift, so she’s staying night shift until further announcements.” Carlisle answered, his lips pressed in a thin line as he pulls Celine a seat

“Wait, what?” Celine asked, looking at him in shock “I thought that the four of us would be on the morning shift?”

“That’s what I originally wanted too.” Carlisle answered as he rests his hand on Celine’s shoulder, subtly inviting her to sit down “But they said that they needed someone like her for the night shift.”

“Would it not make more sense for it to be you on night shift?” Celine asked, her eyebrows still furrowed as a frown form on her face. She sat down on the chair and grabbed a donut, eating out of frustration

Seeing the frown form on Celine's face, Carlisle couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment in himself. It had been his intention to bring her to the morning shift with him, not just so they could spend time at work together, but also because it’s beneficial for her.

He felt like he was disappointing his promise of giving her everything she wants.

“I’ll see what I can do more.” Carlisle said softly, sitting down next to Celine and resting his hand on Celine’s thighs, drawing circles to subtly comfort her “If it comes down to it, I’ll do night shifts so Celine can have morning ones.”

Back home, Alice couldn’t help but have a vision. Looking for anything to look out for, seeing as they now have another human to protect, especially with her being Carlisle’s mate. Because if there’s anyone that’s gonna know if someone wants jeopardize his happiness, it sure as hell would be Alice.

“See anything?” Edward asked before using his telepathy to look for himself as well

“I really cannot see a future where Celine doesn’t become a vampire.” Alice said softly, grabbing Jasper’s hand and playing with it “It just depends on who’s gonna change her.”

“The Volturi.” Edward said, seeing what Alice now meant “Are they going after her now?”

“Not yet.” She answered “But Aro has gotten the news of Carlisle finally meeting his mate. He’s finding it amusing that it’s a human.”

“Aro plans to be the one to personally change her only to spite Carlisle.” Edward continued, a disgusted look on his face

“He thinks that Carlisle won’t have the courage to change her, does he?” Jasper asked, his eyebrows furrowed as Alice nodded yes to his question

“I heard Volturi talks.” Emmett said, walking in with Rosalie

“What’s the Volturi got against us now this time?” Rosalie asked, her eyebrows furrowed

“Aro is sending a letter to us soon. He wants to meet Carlisle’s mate.” Alice informed “The letter consists of something about being happy that he’s found his mate.”

“What?!” Rosalie yelled, immediately figuring out that meeting her isn’t just what the Volturi wants

“We can’t let Carlisle and Celine go there; we have to stop them.” Edward said, the others nodded in agreement

“Oh, so no fighting Volturi today?” Emmett asked, making Rosalie fight off a smile

“We’re outnumbered. The guards alone will cause damage to us.” Edward answered logically, though the thoughts of fighting the Volturi was something he wasn’t opposed to doing

“If you’re talking about Jane, then we have Bella to counter her.” Jasper answered back “We can fight them if we want to, we just have to prepare.”

“Carlisle won’t let us.” Rosalie knowingly told them, knowing how much he still respected the Volturi despite their multiple attempts of destroying his family

“Do you think Celine would want us to fight?” Edward pondered

“Why suddenly ask– oh.” Emmett said, realizing what he meant

“Carlisle is willing to give her everything she wants. If she ever wanted to fight the Volturi, he would give in without second doubt.” Jasper said out loud in realization, a smirk on his face at the realization

“Do we tell Carlisle of the vision with the Volturi?” Alice asked “He’ll find out one way or the other, it’s best that we prepare him now.”

“Well, with that, we have to tell him that Celine’s gonna be a vampire too.” Edward said back “We’ve been holding that information back from him.”

“Celine doesn’t even know that they’re mates.” Rosalie added “Carlisle wants to give her the choice of walking away from him if she ever wants to.”

“Their relationship is built on secrecy?” Emmett asked

“More of ‘he just needs time before opening other vampire things to her,’ really.” Alice corrected him “It’ll be a shock to her, hearing those terms.”

“Carlisle wants to ask Celine to stay the night.” Edward suddenly announced to everyone in the room, changing the topic

“Has she eaten? Is there something open tonight? We can buy her food.” Rosalie immediately asked, standing up as she was about to rush and buy food for her.

‘Why did she warm up easier to Celine than Bella?’ Edward pondered, watching as she accidentally bumps into Bella on her way out

“Everything alright?” Bella asked

“Well, Celine’s staying the night here. We should at least get her food.” Rosalie said to her

“Celine already ate. Carlisle got her donuts.” Edward said, easing Rosalie

The Cullen kids then decided to lounge around the house, anticipating the arrival of their guest, while also hoping that Carlisle would finally provide the additional information that Celine needed.

“The vision is changing.” Alice announced, getting them to look at her

“Aro isn’t gonna send it to our house anymore.”

As the end of the shift approached, Celine found herself in excruciating pain, her back and legs aching beyond words. While she loved her work in the hospital and the opportunity to help people, the toll it took on her body was something she could do without.

“Carlisle doesn’t deal with this.” Celine frowned, trying to squeeze her calf. The thoughts of being a vampire just so she won’t be in pain plaguing her thoughts

“You good?” Carlisle asked, walking in their office as she rubs her legs, trying to soothe the pain

“Did a bit too much running.” Celine answered with a frown

“Cramping or just in pain?” He asked again, moving to where she was to check it out for himself. Carlisle gently rested his hand on her calf, massaging it, his cold hands acting as some sort of ice pack for it

“Just in pain, probably a light sprain.” She answered before shooing his hand away “I’ll be fine, no need to worry about me.”

“You’re asking me, of all beings that care for you, to not worry about you?” Carlisle chuckled at her before standing up and leaving a peck on her forehead “That’s like rejecting me already, my love.”

“Don’t be overdramatic, you know I would say if I want you to stop courting me.” Celine said, rolling her eyes at him

“The kids miss you.” Carlisle said in a soft tone, sitting down next to her

“I think you share too much about me with them.” Celine softly teased, resting her head on his shoulders

“They want to know you more beyond my stories.” He added, softly grabbing her left hand to admire “You know a lot about them, but they, minus Edward and Bella, knows little about you.”

As he held her hand, Carlisle's thoughts drifted, imagining the day he could slip a ring on that very hand. The idea of pledging himself to her, whether for eternity or until her mortal life's end, filled him with excitement. While he acknowledged it might be too early to contemplate such things, he couldn't help but visualize a future where they’re bound together in every sense of the word.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Celine asked him quietly

“Just admiring every bit of you.” Carlisle whispered softly

“You know.” Celine started; her eyes closed off as she enjoys the few minutes of solace with him “I’ve kind of considered being a vampire.”

“My love, you don’t have to pressure yourself into joining me.” Carlisle instantly assured her “A vampire or not, I will love you for all of your life and until the end of mine.”

“I know.” She whispered, a blush creeping on her cheeks from his assurance “But like, I would be leaving no one in this world if I choose to change into one of you. So, at least I wouldn’t deal with the pain of outliving anyone. Other than friends, obviously.”

“I’m not saying that I’ll do it now, but like, the thought is there.” Celine continued “I’m 27, I’m technically already older than all of you.”

“Fair enough.” Carlisle answered lightly, feeling so many emotions at once.

Carlisle was taken aback by Celine's unexpected openness to the idea of becoming a vampire with them. He had already resigned himself to loving her until the end of her mortal life and carrying the love she gave him until the end of his immortal existence.

“Well, only a few months till May comes. And when it does, I’m gonna be more older than all of you.” Celine lightly bantered, a smile on her face “As sexy as it sounds for others, I don’t think you’re a fan of dating someone that’s almost five years older than you.”

“My love, are you sure that you’re not pressured to do this?” Carlisle asked again

“I’m sure of my decision.” Celine assured him with a smile “I’d like to do it on the night of my 30th birthday, unless something fatal happens to me within those three years of waiting. It’ll give me more than enough time to do things that I as a vampire wouldn’t be able to do anymore.”

“Of course, your wish will be granted.” Carlisle whispered, a huge grin resting on his face as he looks at Celine’s hand again

For eternity it is.

“Stay the night with me?” Carlisle asked quietly, wanting nothing more than to spend every moment with her. He’ll have all of eternity already, he just wants to have a head start

“Of course.” Celine whispered in reply

Soon, their shift was officially over. Carlisle and Celine started gathering their stuff, making their way out of their office with huge grins on their faces.

Walking out of the hospital, Carlisle reached for Celine's hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. In that moment, everything felt wonderful, as if all the pieces were falling into place. It was only a matter of time until forever comes to him and Celine.

What’s 3 more years when he’s already waited 382 years for her?

She and Carlisle made their way to his car. Where a note was by the windshield. They both looked at each other, curious and concerned for what the note was about. Carlisle seemed to know the logo in front of the note as he quickly pulled it off his windshield, opening and seeing what it was

I would love to meet the future Mrs. Cullen of yours, Carlisle. Congratulations on finally meeting your mate.

[pengweng-quack]

since I have been very offline, you guys deserve an earlier chapter 7 🥳

[pengweng-quack]

Bloodbound

Carlisle Cullen x Human!OC

Summary: Place Carlisle in the Edward situation of falling in love with a human, and see what happens

Chapter 6/?

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

Notes:

This is on Ao3 under the same title and username if you'd like to read it there (https://archiveofourown.org/works/54527830)

Life has been tough, so I apologize for the lack of appearance here

Leave your thoughts (or don't, your choice) in the comments, I enjoy reading through your thoughts :)

Word Count: 3073 words

General warning: I used some religious references in this story so read with caution if you're not so keen into reading that

TW for this chapter: insecurities on Celine's end

PM or Comment to be added on the taglist for this one!

Masterlist

Celine was invited to the Cullen’s house one afternoon by Bella, eager to catch up and discuss the existence of vampires and other supernatural beings that Celine might now encounter, given her newfound knowledge about vampires.

“Celine, hi!” Esme greeted, being the one to open the house before she even got to knock

“Hi Esme.” Celine greeted back, smiling at her.

Celine noticed the subtle darkening of her eyes when she opened the door for her but didn’t say anything about it otherwise, only thinking that it was a vampire thing. Unbeknownst to her, Esme's keen gaze followed her every move as she entered the house and made her way to the living room where Bella awaited.

“Esme, let’s go feed first.” Edward offered, getting Esme’s trance to stop and redirect to Edward. She only nodded in reply, following Edward out the house without a word

“How are you?” Bella asked, a warm smile on her unnaturally pale face

“I’m good, glad to be off today.” Celine replied resting on the couch

“There’s another non-bloodsucker.” Jacob said, walking in and pointing finger guns at her “Hey Celine.”

“Oh my god.” Celine said with a grin, playfully rolling her eyes at him

“You were moments away from being a meal, if you didn’t notice.” Jacob said, pointing to the open door where Esme and Edward went out

“You didn’t need to tell her that, I hope you know that.” Bella scolded, shaking her head no at him

“How does your diet even work?” Celine asked curiously

“Well, no need to worry about us making you our meal since firstly, we’re vegetarian vampires, meaning that we only feed on animals instead of the typical human that the other vampires do. Secondly, we’re in control with our thirst for actual human blood now, Carlisle having the most control over it.” Bella explained thoroughly

“You’re in safe hands with him.” She added, giving Celine some sort of comfort

“Oh, come on.” Jacob told her, rolling his eyes at Bella “Let’s be real, Esme almost slipped up earlier. If it weren’t for Edward pulling her out.”

“She’s been the most away from humans, preferring to stay at home and do her architectural and art works here instead of outside with humans.” Bella explained to Celine

“How tough was it anyways? Being a human with them?” Celine asked Bella.

Bella contemplated her response carefully, determined to portray that being human around the Cullens was completely safe. If there was anyone that was gonna fuck up Carlisle’s chance of an eternity with his mate, it was definitely not gonna be Bella.

Somehow, Bella couldn't bring herself to lie to her. She felt a moral obligation to answer Celine's question truthfully, providing her with both the advantages and disadvantages of being human around the Cullens. She wanted Celine to still decide for herself, even though her fate of being a vampire is sealed.

“Being with them as a human was an…odd experience.” Bella started softly, remembering how it was when she was in Celine’s situation

“There have been moments where Edward needed to be very careful with his thirst around me, there have been slip-ups from Jasper as well. Being with us, despite us being vegetarian vampires, doesn’t ensure you complete safety.” She continued, watching Celine’s reaction carefully

“Just like how Esme was earlier?” Celine asked lowly, figuring two and two together. Bella only nodded in reply, getting Celine to push her lips, forming a thin line

“But when they protect, they protect hard.” Bella continued, sharing multiple stories on how the Cullens have protected her and Chief Swan during her time as human

If Celine was frankly speaking, she found herself conflicted after hearing Bella's stories. While she appreciated Bella's honesty, the tales of gore and life-or-death situations only served to deepen her reservations about becoming a vampire. Each anecdote seemed too coincidental, as if fate itself were guiding Bella toward the path of vampirism.

And she wasn’t having any of those, so what makes it sure that she has the same fate as Bella did?

“Bella, I think it’ll be best if I talk to her.” Rosalie called from the doorway, a soft smile on her face “Your stories are obviously scaring her.”

“She has good control, no need to worry about her.” Bella comforted before standing up “She’s killed people though so I’ll look out for that.”

“Oh please.” Rosalie said, playfully rolling her eyes at Bella before sitting next to Celine “I do not intend on killing Celine.”

“Thanks for the assurance.” Celine said awkwardly, biting her lip in an attempt to hide the laughter

“So, not a fan of Bella’s very gruesome stories?” Rosalie asked her

“Kind of. It was just too much for her to happen in like a year or so.” Celine answered honestly

“Fair enough. I guess time just becomes kind of invisible to us when you’ve been alive for so long.” Rosalie shrugged

“Kind of scary, don’t you think?” Celine asked her “Time has become so invisible to you that something you share could already be years, or in some cases, decades ago.”

“I understand if you don’t want to join us, there’s no pressure in your decision of becoming one.” Rosalie said softly, a smile on her face

“Did you not want to be one?” Celine asked her in a gentle tone

“I used to.” She replied lowly, her eyes admiring Celine’s humanity

“I opened this to Carlisle one time, told him that sometimes I wished that he didn’t change me that night. That he should have left me dead.” She continued, averting her eyes into the nothingness of the doorway, possibly remembering the discussion they had

“He knew the weight of his decision, and he knew that his choice placed him in the same spot as my ex-fiancé and his friends. Carlisle used to be wary around me, and that was the same with me. I had so much rage at him that I couldn’t even look at him in the eye.”

“The first time I ever did look at him was when I begged him to change Emmett. Carlisle kindly accompanied me after while Edward and Esme were helping Emmett with his thirst, asked me how I was feeling, asked me if I needed anything.”

“I remember staying silent the whole time, even though I desperately needed someone to hold me then. I was scared, scared that Emmett won’t welcome the life that I had introduced him into. That he would become another…me. I was scared that I had just caused Carlisle to carry the weight of two people not welcoming that change that he did.”

“What did he do?” Celine asked softly, allowing Rosalie to open up more as she listens to her story

“He held me.” Rosalie only answered “He wrapped his arm around me, in a way that no man has ever done to me when I was still human. He brushed my hair with his hands with the same gentleness as how he is when he’s on the operating room. It was protective, it was caring. It was my first time feeling a paternal love through touch.”

“Because, undeniably, underneath the narcissistic behavior that I have, I had yearned someone to see past through my beauty. I wanted someone to know me beyond being the most beautiful woman that they’ve seen. I needed someone to know that I’m more than just my beauty.”

“Carlisle became the first man to actually show care for me beyond being a display; I wasn’t a prized possession to brag about to him. I was Rosalie Hale, his eldest daughter.” She ended, a soft smile on her face

“I thought I was just imagining your presence.” Carlisle’s voice said softly from the doorway, a smile on his face at the sight of Celine

“Bella invited her, though she was creeping her out with what had happened to her when she was still human with us.” Rosalie answered, chuckling at Bella’s stories “Edward is in the forest with Esme, if I were to guess, they’ll be home soon. Emmett, Jasper, and Alice are in town right now, said that they’ll be home before night hits.”

“Thanks a lot, Rosie.” Carlisle said, walking closer to the two of them. Rosalie took it as a sign and stood up from her spot, letting Carlisle have her moment with Celine

“Hello handsome.” Celine greeted once Rosalie has left them in the living room all by themselves.

Seeing him warmed Celine’s heart, a soft, giddy smile forming on her face. The same way that their quiet moments in the hospital, the subtle showing of affection underneath the tables, and Carlisle being more vocal in respectfully declining any moves that the other nurses and patients are showing to him did to her.

She knew that she was falling for him, in ways that she didn’t think one could do so.

“How was spending time with Rosie and Bella?” He asked her, sitting down on the space where Rosalie and Bella were once sitting

“Both were just sharing bits of their past.” She replied, scooting closer to him

“Then, you must know?” Carlisle asked, a hint of shame in his tone “You know what I have damned Rosalie with?”

“Is that why you were easy to accept my hesitancy in becoming one of you?” Celine asked lowly, intertwining her hands with his

“All I wish is that you get to decide for yourself, my love.” He replied, leaving a peck of assurance on her temples

Bella and Rosalie’s stories didn’t really help Celine on answering the question whether she’ll become a vampire with them or not. Bella's journey involved considerable risk before her transformation, while Rosalie's transformation was marked by a lack of choice, both something that Celine wasn’t facing right now.

In the midst of her uncertainty about becoming a vampire, one thing remained clear to Celine: her heart belonged to Carlisle, the discussions of her being a vampire can be dealt with once it comes.

~~

“Are you re— my love, what are you doing?” Carlisle asked, walking in Celine’s house and seeing her try to push her couch to the opposite side of the room

“Did you not receive my message that I won’t be available today?” Celine asked, a small frown on her face as she faces him

“Do you need some physical help?” He just asked curiously, looking at her with nothing but concern on her face

“I’ll be fine, just need to get this couch to the opposite side.” She answered kindly, smiling at him before going back and trying to push back the couch that she was pushing earlier

Carlisle decided to pull Celine away from the couch that she was pushing before carrying the couch to the empty spot where she actually planned to place it. With a cheeky grin, he faced her annoyed but amazed expression before going to her and pecking her cheeks.

“That was annoyingly cool.” Celine spoke up after a bit of staring at the couch and the now empty spot

“Comes with being 300 years old, I guess.” He playfully replied, pulling her hand and twirling her around

“You’re very pretty.” Carlisle whispered, resting his hand on Celine’s waist and pulling her closer to him with such gentleness that she felt like a porcelain doll

“Not Rosalie or Esme pretty though. Or Bella and Alice in some sense.” Celine answered offhandedly, catching the two of them off guard. She looked at him with wide eyes, scared of what his reaction will be

“Your beauty is one that reminds me of my humanity. Even if there isn’t much to remind me of it.” He only said, his hands tracing her cheeks with the same gentleness as earlier

“You are the radiant flowers that adorn the sacred corridors of cathedrals, my love; each petal is a representation of purity and elegance. You possess a purity that demands safeguarding, for there are those who would covet you not for your inherent worth, but merely to adorn themselves with a fragment of your radiance, like a prized possession to be displayed but never truly cherished.”

Carlisle went and pulled her for a deep kiss, his hands resting on her back for support. He wanted that kiss to radiate all the love that he has for Celine.

He may not have all of eternity to show her how much he loves her, but he has all of Celine’s life to prove to her that it’s her and that it will always be her that his undead heart beats for.

~~

After a few weeks, Celine was invited by Rosalie again, telling her that they haven’t seen each other in forever even though it only has been a few weeks. Having no choice but to give what she wanted, Celine prepared some overnight stuff, knowing that their house wasn’t human enough to have what she would need to actually stay over.

Walking in the house, she only saw Edward, who was reading, in the living room. She didn’t know where the others were, only knowing that Carlisle was with Renesmee, accompanying his granddaughter for the day.

“Rosalie and Emmett went out on a date, while Alice and Jasper are on Port Angeles right now, Jasper’s buying some new shoes. Esme and Bella are over at the cottage that they plan to gift to Alice and Jasper’s for their wedding anniversary.” Edward answered, not looking up from his book but having read the questions forming in her mind

Celine couldn't help but feel a bit unsettled by the unusual situation of being alone with Edward. Typically, he found reasons to excuse himself when she was around.  Though, it kind of helped with her anxiety, being with someone that could hear her every thought icked her.

“I really am trying to not read your mind right now.” Edward announced, finally looking at her, a guilty look on his face “I just hear yours much clearer since you’re the only one nearby.”

“Sorry, didn’t want you to feel guilty of your gift.” Celine said quietly, sitting on the opposite end of the couch that he was in, patiently waiting for someone to come. Someone that she could actually talk to

It was quiet for a moment, Celine was thinking of anything that Carlisle has told her about Edward to use as conversation starter, not wanting Edward to think about her otherwise. She was determined to connect with him on a deeper level, wanting to know him beyond just being the first person that Carlisle had been with.

“I was genuinely…terrified when Carlisle told us about you.” Edward started, getting Celine to look at him with furrowed eyebrows “We’ve seen with me how a blood singer can destabilize anyone in this diet, even having practiced this lifestyle for so long. We were scared that Carlisle, of all the vampires practicing this diet, might lose his control on you.”

“Blood singer?” Celine asked curiously

“A blood singer is a person whose blood sings for one specific vampire. It’s like their own personal brand of heroine.” He explained to her, reading her thoughts briefly before continuing “Bella was my blood singer when she was still human.”

“What does it mean to be a vampire’s blood singer then?” She asked again

Edward felt the need to gently redirect the discussion, knowing Carlisle would be better equipped to handle it. He recognized that Carlisle could provide a more reassuring explanation about their unique circumstances, assuring Celine of his continued composure and control around her.

But somehow, the way that Celine was looking at him with such curiosity made him want to answer her question. She was intrigued and Edward had the knowledge that was more than enough to give answers to her questions.

“It basically means that your blood will be addictive to Carlisle if he ever got a whiff or taste of it.” Edward bluntly replied before realizing what he had just said. He quickly focused his telepathy on Celine, seeing any reaction that he probably would need to raise to Carlisle because of his actions

“But Carlisle has seen me bleeding before, I get papercuts all the time.” Celine told him, her eyebrows furrowed “Maybe I’m not his blood singer or something.”

“Trust me, you are.” He only told her, an assuring smile on his face “I hear his thoughts about you all the time, especially when you two have first just met.”

“What does he think of me then?” She asked him

“It is not my position to tell you what goes in his mind.” Edward disagreed, shaking his head at her question “All I could say is that his heart is with you.”

“Why didn’t Carlisle and Esme just get paired to each other?” Celine asked him quietly

Edward looked at her, reading into Celine’s mind to see what had caused her to ask such a question, especially when Carlisle has shown nothing but love and compassion to her. But he was blasted with various doubting, showing that underneath her confident aura was a woman riddled with insecurities.

“They tried…at first.” Edward started slowly, keenly watching Celine just in case his stories just adds on her doubting

“Carlisle felt the need to take responsibility of Esme, and she agreed. She thought that the old crush that she had on him when she was younger would blossom into something more, which was why she agreed. Overtime, they realized that they weren’t fit for each other.”

“He was willing to keep the relationship going, out of responsibility. But Esme stopped him, told him that they should go as brothers and sisters instead, knowing that it would fit them more. She told him that the crush she had on him was merely attraction, and that she could not see him as a partner.”

“Esme isn’t who Carlisle needs as a partner, but she’s who the coven needs as a matriarch.” Edward ended, satisfied with how he’s worded their story

“Did Carlisle like her that way?” Celine asked him curiously

“He says he did, but frankly speaking, he was just convincing himself that he liked her that way.” He answered earnestly

“I wish I could say more, to get you to change your mind about if you’re worthy of Carlisle or not. But all I can tell you is that the entirety of him is in your palm.”

[pengweng-quack]

Bloodbound

Carlisle Cullen x Human!OC

Summary: Place Carlisle in the Edward situation of falling in love with a human, and see what happens

Chapter 6/?

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

Notes:

This is on Ao3 under the same title and username if you'd like to read it there (https://archiveofourown.org/works/54527830)

Life has been tough, so I apologize for the lack of appearance here

Leave your thoughts (or don't, your choice) in the comments, I enjoy reading through your thoughts :)

Word Count: 3073 words

General warning: I used some religious references in this story so read with caution if you're not so keen into reading that

TW for this chapter: insecurities on Celine's end

PM or Comment to be added on the taglist for this one!

Masterlist

Celine was invited to the Cullen’s house one afternoon by Bella, eager to catch up and discuss the existence of vampires and other supernatural beings that Celine might now encounter, given her newfound knowledge about vampires.

“Celine, hi!” Esme greeted, being the one to open the house before she even got to knock

“Hi Esme.” Celine greeted back, smiling at her.

Celine noticed the subtle darkening of her eyes when she opened the door for her but didn’t say anything about it otherwise, only thinking that it was a vampire thing. Unbeknownst to her, Esme's keen gaze followed her every move as she entered the house and made her way to the living room where Bella awaited.

“Esme, let’s go feed first.” Edward offered, getting Esme’s trance to stop and redirect to Edward. She only nodded in reply, following Edward out the house without a word

“How are you?” Bella asked, a warm smile on her unnaturally pale face

“I’m good, glad to be off today.” Celine replied resting on the couch

“There’s another non-bloodsucker.” Jacob said, walking in and pointing finger guns at her “Hey Celine.”

“Oh my god.” Celine said with a grin, playfully rolling her eyes at him

“You were moments away from being a meal, if you didn’t notice.” Jacob said, pointing to the open door where Esme and Edward went out

“You didn’t need to tell her that, I hope you know that.” Bella scolded, shaking her head no at him

“How does your diet even work?” Celine asked curiously

“Well, no need to worry about us making you our meal since firstly, we’re vegetarian vampires, meaning that we only feed on animals instead of the typical human that the other vampires do. Secondly, we’re in control with our thirst for actual human blood now, Carlisle having the most control over it.” Bella explained thoroughly

“You’re in safe hands with him.” She added, giving Celine some sort of comfort

“Oh, come on.” Jacob told her, rolling his eyes at Bella “Let’s be real, Esme almost slipped up earlier. If it weren’t for Edward pulling her out.”

“She’s been the most away from humans, preferring to stay at home and do her architectural and art works here instead of outside with humans.” Bella explained to Celine

“How tough was it anyways? Being a human with them?” Celine asked Bella.

Bella contemplated her response carefully, determined to portray that being human around the Cullens was completely safe. If there was anyone that was gonna fuck up Carlisle’s chance of an eternity with his mate, it was definitely not gonna be Bella.

Somehow, Bella couldn't bring herself to lie to her. She felt a moral obligation to answer Celine's question truthfully, providing her with both the advantages and disadvantages of being human around the Cullens. She wanted Celine to still decide for herself, even though her fate of being a vampire is sealed.

“Being with them as a human was an…odd experience.” Bella started softly, remembering how it was when she was in Celine’s situation

“There have been moments where Edward needed to be very careful with his thirst around me, there have been slip-ups from Jasper as well. Being with us, despite us being vegetarian vampires, doesn’t ensure you complete safety.” She continued, watching Celine’s reaction carefully

“Just like how Esme was earlier?” Celine asked lowly, figuring two and two together. Bella only nodded in reply, getting Celine to push her lips, forming a thin line

“But when they protect, they protect hard.” Bella continued, sharing multiple stories on how the Cullens have protected her and Chief Swan during her time as human

If Celine was frankly speaking, she found herself conflicted after hearing Bella's stories. While she appreciated Bella's honesty, the tales of gore and life-or-death situations only served to deepen her reservations about becoming a vampire. Each anecdote seemed too coincidental, as if fate itself were guiding Bella toward the path of vampirism.

And she wasn’t having any of those, so what makes it sure that she has the same fate as Bella did?

“Bella, I think it’ll be best if I talk to her.” Rosalie called from the doorway, a soft smile on her face “Your stories are obviously scaring her.”

“She has good control, no need to worry about her.” Bella comforted before standing up “She’s killed people though so I’ll look out for that.”

“Oh please.” Rosalie said, playfully rolling her eyes at Bella before sitting next to Celine “I do not intend on killing Celine.”

“Thanks for the assurance.” Celine said awkwardly, biting her lip in an attempt to hide the laughter

“So, not a fan of Bella’s very gruesome stories?” Rosalie asked her

“Kind of. It was just too much for her to happen in like a year or so.” Celine answered honestly

“Fair enough. I guess time just becomes kind of invisible to us when you’ve been alive for so long.” Rosalie shrugged

“Kind of scary, don’t you think?” Celine asked her “Time has become so invisible to you that something you share could already be years, or in some cases, decades ago.”

“I understand if you don’t want to join us, there’s no pressure in your decision of becoming one.” Rosalie said softly, a smile on her face

“Did you not want to be one?” Celine asked her in a gentle tone

“I used to.” She replied lowly, her eyes admiring Celine’s humanity

“I opened this to Carlisle one time, told him that sometimes I wished that he didn’t change me that night. That he should have left me dead.” She continued, averting her eyes into the nothingness of the doorway, possibly remembering the discussion they had

“He knew the weight of his decision, and he knew that his choice placed him in the same spot as my ex-fiancé and his friends. Carlisle used to be wary around me, and that was the same with me. I had so much rage at him that I couldn’t even look at him in the eye.”

“The first time I ever did look at him was when I begged him to change Emmett. Carlisle kindly accompanied me after while Edward and Esme were helping Emmett with his thirst, asked me how I was feeling, asked me if I needed anything.”

“I remember staying silent the whole time, even though I desperately needed someone to hold me then. I was scared, scared that Emmett won’t welcome the life that I had introduced him into. That he would become another…me. I was scared that I had just caused Carlisle to carry the weight of two people not welcoming that change that he did.”

“What did he do?” Celine asked softly, allowing Rosalie to open up more as she listens to her story

“He held me.” Rosalie only answered “He wrapped his arm around me, in a way that no man has ever done to me when I was still human. He brushed my hair with his hands with the same gentleness as how he is when he’s on the operating room. It was protective, it was caring. It was my first time feeling a paternal love through touch.”

“Because, undeniably, underneath the narcissistic behavior that I have, I had yearned someone to see past through my beauty. I wanted someone to know me beyond being the most beautiful woman that they’ve seen. I needed someone to know that I’m more than just my beauty.”

“Carlisle became the first man to actually show care for me beyond being a display; I wasn’t a prized possession to brag about to him. I was Rosalie Hale, his eldest daughter.” She ended, a soft smile on her face

“I thought I was just imagining your presence.” Carlisle’s voice said softly from the doorway, a smile on his face at the sight of Celine

“Bella invited her, though she was creeping her out with what had happened to her when she was still human with us.” Rosalie answered, chuckling at Bella’s stories “Edward is in the forest with Esme, if I were to guess, they’ll be home soon. Emmett, Jasper, and Alice are in town right now, said that they’ll be home before night hits.”

“Thanks a lot, Rosie.” Carlisle said, walking closer to the two of them. Rosalie took it as a sign and stood up from her spot, letting Carlisle have her moment with Celine

“Hello handsome.” Celine greeted once Rosalie has left them in the living room all by themselves.

Seeing him warmed Celine’s heart, a soft, giddy smile forming on her face. The same way that their quiet moments in the hospital, the subtle showing of affection underneath the tables, and Carlisle being more vocal in respectfully declining any moves that the other nurses and patients are showing to him did to her.

She knew that she was falling for him, in ways that she didn’t think one could do so.

“How was spending time with Rosie and Bella?” He asked her, sitting down on the space where Rosalie and Bella were once sitting

“Both were just sharing bits of their past.” She replied, scooting closer to him

“Then, you must know?” Carlisle asked, a hint of shame in his tone “You know what I have damned Rosalie with?”

“Is that why you were easy to accept my hesitancy in becoming one of you?” Celine asked lowly, intertwining her hands with his

“All I wish is that you get to decide for yourself, my love.” He replied, leaving a peck of assurance on her temples

Bella and Rosalie’s stories didn’t really help Celine on answering the question whether she’ll become a vampire with them or not. Bella's journey involved considerable risk before her transformation, while Rosalie's transformation was marked by a lack of choice, both something that Celine wasn’t facing right now.

In the midst of her uncertainty about becoming a vampire, one thing remained clear to Celine: her heart belonged to Carlisle, the discussions of her being a vampire can be dealt with once it comes.

~~

“Are you re— my love, what are you doing?” Carlisle asked, walking in Celine’s house and seeing her try to push her couch to the opposite side of the room

“Did you not receive my message that I won’t be available today?” Celine asked, a small frown on her face as she faces him

“Do you need some physical help?” He just asked curiously, looking at her with nothing but concern on her face

“I’ll be fine, just need to get this couch to the opposite side.” She answered kindly, smiling at him before going back and trying to push back the couch that she was pushing earlier

Carlisle decided to pull Celine away from the couch that she was pushing before carrying the couch to the empty spot where she actually planned to place it. With a cheeky grin, he faced her annoyed but amazed expression before going to her and pecking her cheeks.

“That was annoyingly cool.” Celine spoke up after a bit of staring at the couch and the now empty spot

“Comes with being 300 years old, I guess.” He playfully replied, pulling her hand and twirling her around

“You’re very pretty.” Carlisle whispered, resting his hand on Celine’s waist and pulling her closer to him with such gentleness that she felt like a porcelain doll

“Not Rosalie or Esme pretty though. Or Bella and Alice in some sense.” Celine answered offhandedly, catching the two of them off guard. She looked at him with wide eyes, scared of what his reaction will be

“Your beauty is one that reminds me of my humanity. Even if there isn’t much to remind me of it.” He only said, his hands tracing her cheeks with the same gentleness as earlier

“You are the radiant flowers that adorn the sacred corridors of cathedrals, my love; each petal is a representation of purity and elegance. You possess a purity that demands safeguarding, for there are those who would covet you not for your inherent worth, but merely to adorn themselves with a fragment of your radiance, like a prized possession to be displayed but never truly cherished.”

Carlisle went and pulled her for a deep kiss, his hands resting on her back for support. He wanted that kiss to radiate all the love that he has for Celine.

He may not have all of eternity to show her how much he loves her, but he has all of Celine’s life to prove to her that it’s her and that it will always be her that his undead heart beats for.

~~

After a few weeks, Celine was invited by Rosalie again, telling her that they haven’t seen each other in forever even though it only has been a few weeks. Having no choice but to give what she wanted, Celine prepared some overnight stuff, knowing that their house wasn’t human enough to have what she would need to actually stay over.

Walking in the house, she only saw Edward, who was reading, in the living room. She didn’t know where the others were, only knowing that Carlisle was with Renesmee, accompanying his granddaughter for the day.

“Rosalie and Emmett went out on a date, while Alice and Jasper are on Port Angeles right now, Jasper’s buying some new shoes. Esme and Bella are over at the cottage that they plan to gift to Alice and Jasper’s for their wedding anniversary.” Edward answered, not looking up from his book but having read the questions forming in her mind

Celine couldn't help but feel a bit unsettled by the unusual situation of being alone with Edward. Typically, he found reasons to excuse himself when she was around.  Though, it kind of helped with her anxiety, being with someone that could hear her every thought icked her.

“I really am trying to not read your mind right now.” Edward announced, finally looking at her, a guilty look on his face “I just hear yours much clearer since you’re the only one nearby.”

“Sorry, didn’t want you to feel guilty of your gift.” Celine said quietly, sitting on the opposite end of the couch that he was in, patiently waiting for someone to come. Someone that she could actually talk to

It was quiet for a moment, Celine was thinking of anything that Carlisle has told her about Edward to use as conversation starter, not wanting Edward to think about her otherwise. She was determined to connect with him on a deeper level, wanting to know him beyond just being the first person that Carlisle had been with.

“I was genuinely…terrified when Carlisle told us about you.” Edward started, getting Celine to look at him with furrowed eyebrows “We’ve seen with me how a blood singer can destabilize anyone in this diet, even having practiced this lifestyle for so long. We were scared that Carlisle, of all the vampires practicing this diet, might lose his control on you.”

“Blood singer?” Celine asked curiously

“A blood singer is a person whose blood sings for one specific vampire. It’s like their own personal brand of heroine.” He explained to her, reading her thoughts briefly before continuing “Bella was my blood singer when she was still human.”

“What does it mean to be a vampire’s blood singer then?” She asked again

Edward felt the need to gently redirect the discussion, knowing Carlisle would be better equipped to handle it. He recognized that Carlisle could provide a more reassuring explanation about their unique circumstances, assuring Celine of his continued composure and control around her.

But somehow, the way that Celine was looking at him with such curiosity made him want to answer her question. She was intrigued and Edward had the knowledge that was more than enough to give answers to her questions.

“It basically means that your blood will be addictive to Carlisle if he ever got a whiff or taste of it.” Edward bluntly replied before realizing what he had just said. He quickly focused his telepathy on Celine, seeing any reaction that he probably would need to raise to Carlisle because of his actions

“But Carlisle has seen me bleeding before, I get papercuts all the time.” Celine told him, her eyebrows furrowed “Maybe I’m not his blood singer or something.”

“Trust me, you are.” He only told her, an assuring smile on his face “I hear his thoughts about you all the time, especially when you two have first just met.”

“What does he think of me then?” She asked him

“It is not my position to tell you what goes in his mind.” Edward disagreed, shaking his head at her question “All I could say is that his heart is with you.”

“Why didn’t Carlisle and Esme just get paired to each other?” Celine asked him quietly

Edward looked at her, reading into Celine’s mind to see what had caused her to ask such a question, especially when Carlisle has shown nothing but love and compassion to her. But he was blasted with various doubting, showing that underneath her confident aura was a woman riddled with insecurities.

“They tried…at first.” Edward started slowly, keenly watching Celine just in case his stories just adds on her doubting

“Carlisle felt the need to take responsibility of Esme, and she agreed. She thought that the old crush that she had on him when she was younger would blossom into something more, which was why she agreed. Overtime, they realized that they weren’t fit for each other.”

“He was willing to keep the relationship going, out of responsibility. But Esme stopped him, told him that they should go as brothers and sisters instead, knowing that it would fit them more. She told him that the crush she had on him was merely attraction, and that she could not see him as a partner.”

“Esme isn’t who Carlisle needs as a partner, but she’s who the coven needs as a matriarch.” Edward ended, satisfied with how he’s worded their story

“Did Carlisle like her that way?” Celine asked him curiously

“He says he did, but frankly speaking, he was just convincing himself that he liked her that way.” He answered earnestly

“I wish I could say more, to get you to change your mind about if you’re worthy of Carlisle or not. But all I can tell you is that the entirety of him is in your palm.”

[pengweng-quack]

We're so back everyone, chapter 6 of bloodbound

[pengweng-quack]

Bloodbound

Carlisle Cullen x Human!OC

Summary: Place Carlisle in the Edward situation of falling in love with a human, and see what happens

Chapter 5/?

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Notes:

This is on Ao3 under the same title and username if you'd like to read it there (https://archiveofourown.org/works/54527830)

I was on vacation that's why posting was delayed in both here and Ao3 lol

Leave your thoughts (or don't, your choice) in the comments, I enjoy reading through your thoughts :)

Word Count: 2622 words

General warning: I used some religious references in this story so read with caution if you're not so keen into reading that

TW for this chapter: thoughts about insecurities

PM or Comment to be added on the taglist for this one!

Masterlist

“What do you mean?” Carlisle asked, threading carefully on what will happen next

“You’re not human.” Celine concluded with Carlisle not answering her question immediately “What are you?”

“My love…” Carlisle started, looking at her, but he was met with no kind of adoration in her eyes anymore “Yes, I am not human. But I do not intend on harming you.”

“I know.” Celine said, the glint of calmness was now back in her eyes “I just need to know what you are. For my peace of mind, I guess.”

“You’ll either laugh or get extremely concerned if I tell you what I actually am.” He whispered lowly, ashamed of himself

“A vampire?” Celine asked him again

“How did you know?” Carlisle asked almost immediately. He looked at Celine, realizing that she didn’t actually know and that it was just a rough guess that he confirmed.

“A vampire? In a hospital?” Celine asked her, her eyebrows furrowed at the irony of it. There were so many questions running in her mind

“I-I have to go.” Carlisle answered, standing up and picking up his clothes, quickly wearing his shirt and rushing out of her house to his car

‘She knows’ Carlisle was panicking as he drove off back to their house. Thoughts swirled chaotically in his mind, making it impossible for him to think straight. He hit his steering wheel in anger before driving back home in silence, his grip on the steering wheel painfully tight

“Celine knows.” Edward announced to everyone, carefully reading Carlisle’s thoughts

“What do you mean, ‘she knows’? We were careful with it.” Rosalie asked her

“We were careful, Carlisle probably wasn’t.” Edward continued in conclusion “I tried telling you that this was the same as with me and Bella before, but no one believed me.”

“Will we have to move?” Renesmee asked

“No, no. Carlisle will decide on that.” Bella assured her “Besides, we can’t move yet, you need to finish your high school.”

“Well, with what’s happening, we might have to.” Rosalie said, sitting down on one of their couches

“I’m sure Carlisle will have an explanation.” Esme said, trying to calm everyone down. She was just as nervous; would they really just leave Celine like that?

“She figured it out on her own.” Edward said, reading into her mind “She’s not mad. Actually, she’s driving to our place now, at an incredibly dangerous but legal speed. Celine wants to chat with Carlisle.”

“Carlisle left her?” Emmett asked “Weren’t they just having sex earlier?”

“Emmett!” Edward yelled, covering Renesmee’s ears as she laughs at their antics

“My question still stands. Weren’t they just doing something earlier?” Emmett said, chuckling as Renesmee lightly slaps Edward’s hand off her, wanting to listen to what was happening

“Yeah, she’s kind of annoyed about that. But she’s more annoyed that Carlisle just ran away.” Edward said, still reading into Celine’s mind

“Couldn’t even wait until she fell asleep.” Rosalie said, playfully rolling her eyes

“So, you’re warming up to her now?” Jasper asked, teasing her lightly

“I mean, you heard Alice.” Rosalie shrugged “One way or another, she’s gonna be a vampire. We only prevented that rogue vampire from doing it early on.”

“You just want her to not jump first into being one of us?” Bella asked her, knowing and understanding what Rosalie now meant when she was still human

“She’s smart, she would think of the consequences first.” Esme said, already having heard stories about Celine from Carlisle “Besides, Carlisle won’t push her into that.”

“Carlisle is—

“I fucked up.” Carlisle announced, rushing in the house. All of them yelled and closed their eyes, having just seen him in his boxers

“Carlisle, go wear something!” Esme scolded, getting Carlisle to rush up to his room and get dressed into something more casual

“He technically told Celine that we’re vampires.” Edward told everyone as he rushes down the stairs

“Did you even see her reaction?” Jasper asked, Carlisle only shook his head no

“Well now you will, because she’s outside the house.” Jasper said, opening the main door of their house, seeing Celine

“You didn’t tell me that your house was very cold.” Celine said as a greeting to everyone, shivering from the coldness

“Come, let’s talk in my office. Then I’ll introduce you to my family.” Carlisle said, walking to her and taking her hand, leading her to his office

“What now?” Celine asks, rubbing her hands together in an attempt to warm her down. Carlisle immediately grabbed the hanged coat in his office and placed it on her shoulder. The sight of her in his clothes warming him up a bit

“I don’t know.” Carlisle muttered lowly “What do you want now?”

“Well,” Celine said, sitting on the table of his office “I’m not scared that you’re a vampire, if you’re worried about that. And I don’t plan to make that this week’s hospital gossip too, if you’re somehow more worried about that.”

“Thank heavens.” Carlisle let out a big sigh

“Why?” Celine asked him “Is it like a vampire law to not let any non-vampires know about your existence?”

“Kind of, it’s tough to explain.” Carlisle answered, moving closer to her. He knows that he won’t do much help with her being cold, he just wanted to be near her

The silence between the two was comforting but nerve-wracking. Carlisle couldn’t figure out what was going on Celine’s mind 

‘Probably filled with calling me a monster’ a part of his mind said to him

“I think you owe me the truth.” Celine whispered softly, looking at him with a smile “The whole truth, no more of that weird ex-girlfriend stuff. Because you and I both know that that was a very shit lie.”

“Where do you want to start then?” Carlisle asked, walking and grabbing some chairs for her to sit on

“How old are you?” Celine immediately asked, sitting down on the chair that he offered to her

“You have to be a bit more specific than that, my love.” Carlisle chuckled softly, joining her in sitting down

“All of your ages then.” She told him. Her eyes had this twinkle of curiosity, wanting to know more about him

“Well, I was 23 or so when I was turned into a vampire.” He answered, as Celine furrowed her eyebrows, he took it as a sign to continue “It was the 1600’s, we didn’t have a really good date tracking date by then.”

“You’re roughly 300 years old.” Celine said, a shock on her face

“382 to be exact.” Carlisle revealed, getting him to shy away. 

‘Now it looks creepy’ he thought to himself, watching her reactions

“Wow, never thought I’d date that old.” Celine teased him, getting him to let out a sigh of relief

“To be fair, you are already four years older than me in a sense.” He tried to tease her, letting out a small laugh

“I’m four years older than you and 350 years younger than you at the same time. I wish I could say that the math isn’t mathing but it is.” She said, a smile resting on her face.

And Carlisle could only wish that he could freeze the moment between them, take a picture of them and engrave it in his mind, a memory that would remind him of their short-term happiness.

Because who would choose an eternity of being stuck the way you are?

“Esme is 127, Edward and Alice are 121, Rosalie and Emmett are 107, and Jasper is 178 but he’s the last to join us alongside Alice, minus Bella.” Carlisle continued introducing his family

“Bella? As in Bella Swan? As in the chief’s daughter?” Celine asked as ne nodded in response

“She’s with Edward, she’s 35.” Carlisle continued “And the youngest, Renesmee, she’s 16. Edward and Bella’s daughter.”

“So, humans and vampires can procreate too?” Celine asked lowly

“Yeah, but if you think that I’m only pursuing you for that, then you’ve got it all wrong.” He immediately assured her

“Then why pursue me?” Celine asked, looking at him, her eyes begging him for an answer

As Carlisle gazed at Celine, a profound sense of sorrow washed over him. The weight of her pain and self-doubt bore heavily upon his heart, stirring a deep well of empathy within him. He longed to ease her burden, to carry her suffering as his own. Carlisle realized that she always doubted herself underneath the confident aura, thinking that she was worth nothing if she couldn't bear a child.

“Because my heart belongs to you. I belong to you.” Carlisle answered as he stood up, his hands cupping her cheeks and leaving a peck on her forehead

Celine wiped the tears threatening off her face. Never has she felt so loved until now, until with Carlisle. He hugged her, thinking that the tears coming out of her were tears of sadness, of disappointment with herself.

“You’re so kind to me.” Celine mumbled, wrapping her arms around him

They stayed in that moment. Celine has never thought to feel this way so easily about a man, it’s like she was drawn to him. It was as though the universe had conspired to craft their love story, aligning the stars to guide them together.

He was made for her.

“Are you two good now?” A brown-haired woman asked, checking in the office. She was jaw-droppingly gorgeous, getting Celine to subtly feel inferior to her

‘Why did Carlisle not end up with her?’ She questioned to herself

“We are, Esme. Just needed to collect ourselves.” Carlisle answered to her, wiping off the tear stains before leaving small kisses on the apples of her cheek 

“Good, your kids are dying to meet her.” Esme said, a smile on her face.

She was gorgeous, her brown hair rested nicely on her shoulders, her eyes held the same golden shade that Carlisle had. Esme had this maternal aura around her, subtly informing Celine that the Cullens is in no need of a mother figure to fill in

‘Then what am I here for then?’ Celine questioned to herself, stopping her face from forming a frown

“Well, since you’re here.” Carlisle said, motioning Celine to come closer to him “My love, this is Esme. My sister.”

“Hi, I’m Celine!” Celine greeted her with a smile and a small wave. Carlisle instinctively placed his arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. Esme immediately liked her energy.

Celine was a fresh breath on a warm day, the one that feels like you’re being lifted by the wind itself.

“We’ve heard a lot about you.” Esme said, opening the door a bit wider for them to go out of “Come, I’m sure the kids would love to meet you.”

“Rosalie is kind of…iffy with you right now. But she’ll come around.” Carlisle warned as they walked out the room. There were seven looking adults, all looking and watching them as they come down the stairs

“Everyone,” Carlisle said as they get down the last step of the stairs “This is Celine.”

“Hi!” A girl with a pixie cut greeted. Celine couldn’t help but notice how she was towered by everyone else in the room “I’m Alice! I’ve seen this happen.”

“Alice, don’t—

“Oh, it’s alright.” Celine assured to the guy with brown hair, a face that was vaguely familiar to her “After finding out that vampires are real, what more is there to limit the imagination?”

“I’m Bella.” Bella introduced herself “Though I know you already know that, seeing as I remember seeing you grow up.”

‘At least there’s a familiar face’ she thought, letting out a small sigh of relief

“You make it weird saying it like that.” Another guy with brown hair teased Bella. He was really buff, getting Celine to be intimidated “Emmett by the way. This is my wife, Rosalie.”

The woman that Emmett pointed at, Rosalie, only looked at her. A face that Celine can’t seem to figure out what it was saying to her. Rosalie was drop dead gorgeous, any insecurity that she felt earlier to Esme was now tripled in Rosalie’s presence. Her gold hair, which was tied up in a ponytail right now, shone golden.

‘I don’t belong here’ her mind cruelly told her

“Babe, don’t do this now, please?” Emmett said to his wife, rubbing her shoulders to try and calm her down

“It’s fine. Must be unusual having a human be over casually.” Celine assured them again.

‘Who am I to complain about their behavior?’ she thought to herself

“I’m Edward, Bella’s husband.” Edward, the guy that tried to stop Alice earlier, introduced himself “And this is our daughter Renesmee.”

Renesmee waved her hand at Celine cheerfully. Whatever kind of nervousness she got from Rosalie was relieved with Renesmee. She was a walking sunshine.

“I’m Jasper.” A blond guy, Jasper, said with a small wave. He shared the same hair color as Rosalie did, though his was just above his collar “Pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Pleasure to meet you too.” Celine said to everyone

Celine felt awkward with everyone’s eyes on her, getting a feeling that she wouldn’t fit in their perfectly made illusion of a family. It was making Celine feel pity for herself.

“Carlisle, have you told her?” Edward asked quietly

“Tell me what?” She asked instead of Carlisle

“My kids…” Carlisle started slowly “Some of them have special gifts. Edward can telepathically read minds, Alice can see into the future, Jasper can control emotions, Bella can block Edward’s telepathy and basically anything that is of the using of mind, and Renesmee can transmit thoughts to others.”

“So—

“I didn’t intend to, but it was practically just yelling.” Edward confirmed her suspicion, getting Celine to push her lips in a thin line and just nod in response

“I do not plan into turning you into a vampire—

“Thank you.” Celine said, looking at Carlisle “I’d love to do some thinking first before making a final decision.”

“What?” Bella asked, her eyes widened at Celine

“It won’t be an easy transition for me.” Celine answered, looking at Bella “It may have worked out for you, but it wouldn’t immediately work out for me.”

“I would understand if you also would want to go back to how we were.” She continued, now turning her attention to Carlisle “Seeing as I’m technically rejecting you now.”

“Oh no, I don’t see that as a rejection.” Carlisle said, shaking his head no to her “Even if for a short while, I would love to be given a chance to pursue you. To make you feel loved and appreciated.”

‘It will be more than enough for me to carry for eternity’ Carlisle wanted to add. He looked at Edward and slightly shook his head no, asking him to not say what his thoughts wanted to

“Are you sure?” Celine asked him again

“Of course.” Carlisle answered almost immediately, a comforting smile on his face

“Then, I think a second date should be in the talks soon.” Celine said, kissing Carlisle’s cheek before walking to the front door

“It’s been an honor to meet you all.” She said, looking around the family that was watching her “I would assume that it won’t be the last time we’ll see each other.”

Celine walked out and closed the door behind her. The family was listening intently for her car to leave before even thinking of saying their thoughts out loud

“…I think that went well.” Esme said, her hand clasped together and her lips pushed in a thin line “It didn’t, that was shit.” Rosalie said, shaking her head no at Esme “At least she wasn’t jumping headfirst into being a vampire.”

[pengweng-quack]

This too lol

Are you a “can’t write dialogue” writer or a “can’t describe anything” writer

[pengweng-quack]

Can't write dialogue writer

Are you a “can’t write dialogue” writer or a “can’t describe anything” writer

[pengweng-quack]

THAT TWIST ??!?!?!?!? MY GOD I LOVE IT

feels like mine pt1

See my full list of works here!

Summary: You wake up in a bed that isn't your own, living a life that seems to be pulled straight out of your wildest dreams

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: 18+ | mentions of death; slight gaslighting (?) [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: everything is not what it seems; twist at the end

Your eyes squinted to adjust to the brightness of your bedroom awash with the morning sun. Looks like Mother Nature chose to be a little too chipper this morning and tried to blind you with its rays shining straight into your room.

You rose from your bed, your hands flopping on to the ultra soft comforter that sunk beneath the pressure.

Weird, you thought to yourself. I don't remember checking in to a hotel, and God knows my bed isn't this soft. You slowly sat up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and alarm bells immediately ringing loud in your head when you looked down at the pristine white sheets.

"This isn't my bed," you said aloud, hopping down from the mattress and assessing your body, ensuring that you were free to move and your limbs weren't tied down in some capacity keeping you captive in what would have been a bizarrely cozy looking prison. You assessed your clothes next; mainly to see if you were even wearing any, your brows shooting to your hairline when your hands touched a lush satiny fabric covering your curves. "These aren't my clothes."

You rushed over to a mirror situated on a door that you assumed was a closet, your confusion growing by the second when you saw that the reflection looking back at you was…yourself. Exactly as you were last night before you went to bed, only clad in a navy blue nightie that looked like it cost over a week's pay. And wearing a ring that probably cost your soul.

The items on the nightstand by the side of the bed you'd woken up on raised even more questions. A black leather-bound journal with a gold 'H' pressed on the spine, a fountain pen, a laptop, a tablet, and a Kindle Oasis. An almost exact match to the items on the nightstand that you knew by heart, but each item was a more luxurious variant. For one, you wouldn't in your right mind ever buy yourself a Kindle Oasis. Or an S.T. Duponte fountain pen.

On the opposite nightstand were a stack of papers bound together with brass fasteners and a pair of reading glasses with a grade that moderately blurred your vision when you held it close to your eyes. You decided against looking at the contents of the book-bound papers in case there was anything confidential you weren't meant to glimpse in its contents.

You checked on the door next, seeing if it was locked from the outside. It wasn't.

You stepped out of the bedroom, assessing your surroundings to find any semblance of information that would tell you where you were and why you were here, only to grumble out of sheer frustration, "This isn't my apartment." To start with, apartments didn't have stairs. And your place didn't have nearly this much windows.

"Did I…shift?" Your voice softly echoed off the walls, staring in disbelief at the framed picture before you. Your hair and makeup impeccably done, a flower tiara delicately put in place at the top of your head, clad in a downright whimsical wedding dress and smiling brilliantly at the groom whose back was turned to the camera, your only hint at who he was being broad shoulders and brown slightly curly hair.

The unmistakable sound of vegetables being cut led you down the stairs and into the kitchen, desperately hoping it would lead you to who your mystery husband was and maybe start making some sense of this downright crazy predicament.

But catching a glimpse of the well over 6-foot lean frame dressed a white button-down shirt tucked into black dress pants that put a way too familiar butt on proud display had you itching to wake up because this was most definitely a concerningly vivid dream.

That is definitely not my husband.

No way on God's green Earth were you married to Tom Hiddleston. This just went from bizarre to downright impossible.

"Good morning, sweetheart," he greeted you in that low timbre that had your knees buckling, setting aside his task at hand and removing his apron before walking over to you.

"Hi…" you answered him, voice wavering. Before you could speak another word, he framed your face in his hands, thumbs softly running across your cheekbones, and then pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. "What're you--"

"We finished filming early," he answered, words murmured against your lips. "I caught an earlier flight so I could see you sooner. Oh I've missed you so much." He pressed his lips to yours again. "My darling wife."

Okay, I definitely shifted. This body you may have woken up in had your face, and probably your maiden name…but this wasn't your life. You were occupying space meant for someone else. Another Y/N.

"Tom, I think I have to--"

"Whatever it is can wait." He kissed you again, this time he pressed against you a little harder, your heart beating wildly in your chest when you felt a light, tentative lick to your bottom lip. "Just let me hold you a little while longer." He wrapped his arm around the small of your back, cradling your head with his other hand as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, sighing in contentment.

You knew you were seconds away from abandoning all your plans to try and get him to listen when he started pressing numerous open-mouthed kisses along your neck, your whole body growing weak when he started nipping and licking at the skin. "Please it's important. I don't think I'm supposed to be--"

The feel of him groaning into your skin made your knees give out, making him hold you tighter against him. He walked you backwards until your back pressed against the wall, your breathing labored as he kissed along the expanse of skin exposed to him by your negligee.

When his kisses started traveling south and he pressed his lips to the swell of your breast, you knew you had to get your words out before you gave in and let him have his way with you, however far that may be. "I'm not supposed to be here," you blurted out, pressing your palms to his shoulders and inwardly cursing at yourself for making him stop. "I know that I might sound like I'm not making any sense but…I think I shifted realities…? It's bizarre to me because I never actually succeeded until now but the point is--"

"Sweetheart, slow down." He began to rub his hands up and down your arms, calming you down some within seconds and once again making you question this reality. And how he knew what to do when you began to ramble and spiral in your own thoughts. "You say you're not supposed to be here. Where do you think you should be? Tell me what you know and perhaps I can help from there."

"My name is Y/N Y/L/N, and I'm a software engineer in the middle of a career shift. Last night I went to sleep in a one bedroom apartment in Anaheim. I was no one to you. At most a faceless name that sings your praises online. Definitely not…" You waved your hand in a sweeping gesture across your surroundings. "This," you finished, your breath hitching in the back of your throat when you caught sight of his expression, eyes shining with tears that were seconds away from falling down his cheeks.

"What a bleak life," he breathed out, pressing his lips to your forehead as he pulled you into an embrace. "I can't imagine having to live in a world where I didn't know you. Didn't love you." He kissed your temple. "Thank God it was just a dream."

"A dr--A dream?" you sputtered, confusion overcoming your thoughts. Surely it wasn't that simple. That easily explained. You could remember in vivid detail the code you worked on last night, the bumpy bus ride on the way back to your apartment. The last story you read written by your friends online before you finally laid your head on your pillow and succumbed to an exhausted slumber.

Something about Tom's character on The Hollow Crown and barn sex before he was to face off against the Dauphin of France.

"Yes, my love. Nothing but an awful vivid dream," he reassured you, soothing you with the low velvety tone of his voice, partnered with the kisses he was softly peppering all over your face before stopping at the corner of your mouth. "Your name is Y/N Hiddleston. We've been together for five years, and you gave me the unique honor of becoming your husband less than a year ago. You were a software engineer amidst a career change when I met you all those years ago, and you've come so far since then. You have amazed me at every turn, and it's been a privilege to witness all that you've done. And all that you will continue to do." He captured your lips in a tender kiss, making you melt into his arms as you crossed your hands behind his neck, allowing him to pull you closer. "You just need a few minutes to readjust after waking up. Everything will come back to you soon enough. And any details that don't return to you I'll happily fill those blanks in."

It was almost like the protests that remained in your mind got muffled at his assurances. He spoke about you with such conviction and fondness and love that it made it sound beyond reproach. All that remained was the faintest murmur of doubt that you quickly recognized as those few hours of disbelief you would go through after waking up from a particularly vivid dream, much like those ones you had back in college where you mourned the loss of your best friend and you internally panicked for hours until he walked into the classroom looking every bit as alive as he had the day before.

"Just a dream…" You tested the words on your tongue, the explanation steadily becoming more and more palatable than your initial theory of successfully shifting. Your eyes met Tom's again. "Sorry I…kinda freaked out back there--"

He pressed a delicate kiss to your lips to stop you. "There's no need for apologies, sweetheart. You were disoriented, and I'm grateful you confided in me that you were instead of holding it all in." He brushed the tip of his nose against yours, the gesture bringing a smile to your face and causing a small giggle to escape your lips. "How about you head back upstairs and get ready for the day, and I'll finish whipping up breakfast?"

"That…sounds like a good idea," you agreed, unable to keep the smile off your face even as he kissed you again. "I'll go take a shower and then…I'll be back down here in twenty minutes?"

Tom loosened his hold on you, hands smoothing down your sides before he took a step back so you could make your way up the stairs. Before you passed him, he took your hand in his to call your attention again, bringing it up to his lips to press a kiss to each of your knuckles. "I love you," he whispered against your skin.

"I love you, too," you said back, biting your lip as you gave him a smile before heading back up the stairs, your doubts calmed and your panic from earlier subsiding, allowing you to simply look around the house and appreciate the beauty and joy that your life granted you in stark contrast to last night's dream.

Just as you stepped on to the top landing of the stairs, a flash of green glinted at the corner of Tom's eye, diverting his attention to the visitor in the kitchen.

"She is a perceptive one, your mortal," Loki mused, staring down at the ingredients on the cutting board. "A part of her recognizes that she is no longer within her universe. That part could linger…fester, even. Are you truly certain you wish to continue down this path? To risk her finding out the truth and resenting you from stealing her away from her life--"

"What's the alternative, then?" Tom snapped, gripping the countertop so hard his knuckles were going white, hot tears finally falling from his eyes. "Go on the rest of my days without my wife? Let her go back to a world where she said it herself, she's no one to me?"

Loki let out a sigh, taking a few steps towards the door to the patio, the tension and frustration evident in his stance. "She did not deserve the life she was designed for, on that I do agree. But it will take time for her to fully acclimate to this new universe, if you truly wish to keep her here. And you must accept that no matter what you do, she may never fully fill the space that your late wife left behind."

Tom's eyes burned with more tears, indignation and grief making his heart ache even worse at the memory of you -- that is, the you that he lost not even three days ago. "I know that," he said through gritted teeth. "What of the people who heard news of her passing? The people on set who saw me when I got the call? They're going to ask her questions when they see her alive and well. Questions she won't be able to answer."

The god simply waved a hand dismissively. "Simple memory spell. Their recollection of events will simply be altered wherein they recall you receiving a call and you needed to leave and halt production to ensure her safety, not see to her funeral. Her record at the hospital has been expunged. Any and all evidence that suggests that the Y/N Hiddleston of his universe is no longer with us has ceased to exist."

"Thank you," he choked out, walking up to the god and extending a hand.

"Of course. You deserved not the life you'd planned with your wife taken so violently." Loki took your husband's hand in a firm shake. "Now, I know it may not be my place to tell you what you should be doing at this moment. But from where I stand, you have just been reunited with your wife. If you're open to suggestions, I would recommend putting the apron down, going upstairs, and simply enjoying the life that has been returned to you. Breakfast can wait."

With those words, Loki disappeared in a flash of green right as Tom turned around and headed up the stairs in your direction, heeding the god's advice.

A/N: Something tells me that when I told y'all there's a Centrum Ad Hiddles story coming your way, y'all probably didn't expect this…and to be honest I didn't think I was even gonna make a Centrum Ad Hiddles story, let alone one that took this direction. 😳👀 I hope you like it though, slightly dark twist and all 😅💖

‘everything’ taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989

Hiddles taglist: @spooky1980

[pengweng-quack]

I AM ALL IN FOR OFFICE ROMANCE WITH TVA!LOKI

Overtime

Summary: Sometimes, working overtime isn’t all that bad.

Pairings: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+ minors DNI, sex, cunnilingus, teasing, light bondage, office romance.

Series: Overtime (I don't have a masterlist for this, but if you enjoy these idiots, check out Daylight, a sort of sequel).

A/N: This was largely written prior to season 2 and posted right before episode 4, so it’s not entirely canon compliant and the parts that are may be compliant by accident.

Also, @give-me-a-moose and I were on a similar wavelength about Loki angrily reading romance novels and I would strongly recommend checking out her fic The Imagine Nation if you too are enthralled by this idea.

You don’t think that Mobius intended to keep Loki’s desk behind yours.

“It’s temporary,” he tells you apologetically. “He just needs somewhere to go for now, until I figure out what to do with him.”

“You’re talking about him like he’s a stray cat that you found,” you say.

“You won’t even know he’s there, I promise.”

“You’re still doing it.”

Mobius sighs and puts on his most sincere, earnest expression—the one that he always uses when he’s about to ask you for a stupidly massive favor.

And it’s only because you almost never, ever see this look from him that you back down.

“Okay, fine,” you say. “But he’d better be on his best behavior.”

Mobius puts his palms together and tips them toward you. “Thank you. You will not regret this, I promise.”

You sigh and shake your head. “Just remember this next time you’re budgeting for raises.”

But then—in a move that you certainly don’t expect—Loki ends up sticking around. And, in the subtle way that the stray you’ve been feeding slowly turns into your cat, Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. And strangely enough, Mobius’ assurances turn out to be more correct than not: Loki does a lot of fieldwork and is often away; when he is at his desk, it tends to be because he is working on more complicated missions, the ones that require poring over mountains of files looking for patterns and trying to untangle the slippery mess of time itself.

Your work is decidedly less glamorous than Loki’s—almost no fieldwork, lots of files. Endless files. Some days you feel as though you must have seen every file in the TVA’s extensive library and then you’re immediately proven wrong by another wing of filing cabinets that you swear wasn’t even there before.

Although he is generally well-behaved as your desk neighbor, Loki’s presence has a way of distracting you. Even if you didn’t know who he was, your gaze would still naturally drift his way, lingering on those regal cheekbones, that ink black hair, that cunning smirk. The way that the fabric of his dress pants clings to his thighs certainly doesn’t help, to say nothing of how his forearms look with his shirtsleeves rolled up. He can make your heart start to race with no more than a casual glance in your direction and god help you if he gives you one of those devastating smiles. Luckily, you don’t think he takes that much notice of you. You have the sort of pleasantly dull exchanges of coworkers who don’t really know each other and he is almost painfully polite to you. It’s a strong departure from the way he interacts with others—with others, he is bold, charming, sarcastic, talkative, a far cry from the more subdued, almost courtly tone he strikes with you. It’s a difference that is so stark that you can’t help but attribute it to some sort of negative feeling on his end.

“How’s it going with Loki?” Mobius asks you during a one-on-one meeting a couple of months after Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. “He’s behaving himself, right?”

“It’s been fine,” you say, “though truthfully, I don’t think he likes me all that much.”

“What? Of course he likes you,” Mobius says. “Why wouldn’t he like you? You’re lovely.”

You shrug. “I dunno, he’s just different with me than he is with everyone else. Like…overly polite. It’s like he thinks I’m going to send him to the principal’s office or something.”

“Let me get this straight,” says Mobius. “First you were worried that he wouldn’t behave himself and now you’re worried that he’s too well-behaved?”

Privately, you realize he has a point. Outwardly, though, you’re not going to admit it. The sardonic tilt of Mobius’ mouth suggests that he knows this.

“No, I just…I don’t think he likes me all that much,” you say. “And he’s entitled to that. People don’t like each other all the time, it’s not a big deal.”

This is also a little bit of a lie—you do wish he liked you. Loki is so magnetic it’s hard not to want his attention. And with the matter of your silly little crush, well…that doesn’t help either.

Mobius sighs. “I think you’re overthinking this. He likes you, sometimes it just takes him a little time to warm up. He’s a bit of a prickly guy.”

You bite down the urge to point out that you’ve seen him warm to other people almost immediately. This conversation has already gone on longer than you want and you are edging dangerously close to having to admit that you care so much because you have a big stupid crush on him, which is obviously unacceptable.

“Well, the point is that it’s fine,” you say quickly, trying to project an aura of cool confidence. “I don’t have any complaints, he seems like he’s settling in, so let’s move on. Did you have any feedback on my recent report?”

The furrow between Mobius’ eyebrows deepens just slightly, the only indication that he doesn’t fully believe you. But for whatever reason, he decides to let it go and follows your change in topic without further comment.

This is one of the reasons you like Mobius as much as you do: he always seems to know the right moment to push and the right moment to bend.

You’re not sure if your relationship with Loki would have changed had it not been for the problem of Charles Berlitz.

The joke around the office is that after Mobius convinced Loki to work for the TVA, he needed something new to obsess over and Charles Berlitz was the next best option. It’s hard to say exactly who Berlitz is, as he has a tendency of showing up, well…everywhere. He is quite literally in every timeline, at least as far as anyone can tell. Sometimes he is an author, penning serious, scholarly essays on outlandish theories like the Bermuda Triangle and the Philadelphia Experiment. He seems to have a fondness for all manner of schemes—he was responsible for introducing both homeopathy and multi-level marketing to no fewer than sixty different timelines. His ability to peddle bullshit naturally led him to politics—pick any rebellion, coup, or campaign on any given timeline and there’s a good chance you’ll also find Charles Berlitz.

Scammers and con artists are not atypical in your line of work, but what makes Charles Berlitz an enduring mystery is that he has never been found. You can have reputable documentary evidence that Berlitz was present at a certain time and location, but if you show up to investigate, he is never there. There have been some glimpses over the years—a shadowy face in the back of a crowd, the hem of a cloak disappearing behind a corner—but nothing concrete or substantive.

“Our ghost in the timeline,” Mobius had said in one of his more poetic moments at an all staff meeting, his voice overly hushed and dramatic. You had seen Loki roll his eyes and you had to fake a coughing fit to hide your laugh.

Time moves differently at the TVA, so it’s hard to say how long Mobius has been working on this case when he makes a breakthrough, but it’s not terribly long after your conversation about Loki. A campaign button had been found in an apartment that Berlitz rented for two years in the French Quarter. That particular campaign button could only have existed in one specific timeline and its distribution was limited. You aren’t entirely clear on all of the details, but Mobius seems to have a plan.

And unfortunately, that plan involves you giving up most of your weekend to work.

It’s near quitting time on what passes for a Friday at the TVA. Loki has been in today and you can hear him starting to pack up. Technically, he’s got twenty minutes of work left, but you’re not about to tell him that.

You doodle absently on your notepad. Technically, you’ve also got twenty minutes of work left, but realistically: nothing is happening.

“Oh, great, you’re both still here.”

In general, this phrase has never meant good news for you and when you look up, you see Mobius with a sizable armful of files.

Also not a great sign.

Mobius plunks the stack of files directly on your desk. “There’s been a development with Berlitz. I need you both to review these now.”

“It’s Friday,” says Loki, affronted. “Surely it can wait until Monday.”

“No can do. I need this done by Sunday at the latest,” says Mobius. “This is an all hands on deck situation.”

Loki glances pointedly at the office around you, which has already started emptying out for the weekend.

“All hands on deck, but most hands are already in the field,” Mobius concedes. “Which is why I need the two of you—” He points to you. “You because you’re good—” He gestures to Loki. “And you because you’ve got desk duty.”

“I beg your pardon—” begins Loki.

“He’s grounded,” Mobius says to you in an exaggerated stage whisper.

This is not surprising to you: you had heard a rumor last week about an incident that had occurred on a mission to the inauguration of Richard Nixon and you suspect that these two events are likely connected.

You look at the pile of paperwork on your desk. You could probably get through it on your own in a couple of hours, but if Loki’s helping, maybe you still have a shot at having Saturday to yourself. You bite back a sigh. “What do you need me to find?”

“Anything that mentions anyone from the Lucchese crime family or Nero Variant N2815,” says Mobius. “I’ll go get the rest.”

Your heart sinks. Farewell, Saturday. “There’s more?” you say.

“It’ll be triple overtime, I already got it approved!” he calls over his shoulder

You sigh and glance at Loki who is scowling at the pile of files as though they’d wronged him personally.

There’s a long moment of silence before you speak. “Is there any truth to the rumor I’ve been hearing about the Nixon inauguration?” you ask.

“If it involved a hot air balloon, then yes,” he says rather tonelessly.

“Well.” You pause as you stare at the pile of papers. “At least it was worth it.”

That at least earns you a hint of a smile.

*

Several hours later, your stomach is growling and you’ve developed a rather impressive crick in your neck.

You lean back in your chair, stretching your neck to the side and rubbing the knot that is pulsing in your upper trapezius. Office work has done nothing positive for your posture in general, but tonight’s work has you hunched over more than usual and your neck is aching.

You and Loki have made good progress, but your pile of finished and sorted files is scarcely comparable to the full cart that Mobius had brought in. Back when the evening was new and you weren’t quite so tired, you’d been optimistic about possibly having half a Saturday free from work; that hope has slipped away the longer the evening has dragged on. Now you’re hoping that you’ll still have a bit of Sunday to yourself and even that feels unlikely.

Your stomach growls again. You should probably eat something—you’d worked through your regular dinner hour in a fit of misplaced optimism. The cafeteria is closed this time of night, but there’s a vending machine not far from your office that has shitty coffee and mostly edible sandwiches.

You stand and stretch, stifling a yawn as you turn around. “I’m gonna grab a coffee and some dinner,” you say. “Do you want anything?”

Loki looks up at you from the file in front of him, blinking somewhat dazedly and running a hand through his messy curls. “I’d like to stretch my legs a bit, if you don’t mind the company.”

You honestly didn’t expect him to want to join you. It’s a pleasant surprise, certainly, but also a little nerve wracking in the way that interacting with Loki always is. He’s so handsome and aloof and you’re not quite sure how to talk to him without acting like a total fool.

But you’re also not about to say no, either.

“Of course,” you say, “I don’t mind at all.”

The TVA is unusually quiet at this time of night—the steady hum of fluorescent lights and the murmur of distant voices is all that accompanies the tap of your shoes on the linoleum. It only heightens the jittery, nervous feeling you get from Loki—like your stomach is filled with drunk, lightning struck butterflies.

“Are you finding much?” asks Loki as you enter the hallway together.

You shrug. “A bit. Mostly on the Nero variant. I’m not having as much luck with the Luccheses.”

“I’ve got all of their property transfers, I think,” he says. “Renato Lucchese never met a vineyard he didn’t like.”

“Or racehorses, from what I understand,” you say. “I think that’s how he lost most of his money.”

You arrive at the vending machines. Loki looks at the vending machines and then back at you, a somewhat puzzled and troubled expression on his face.

“This is what you meant when you said you were going to get coffee and dinner?”  he says.

You shrug. “Yeah, what’s wrong with this?”

He points at the coffee machine. “Mobius calls that machine Satan’s coffeemaker, does he not?”

“Yes, but I know how to trick it into giving me something that’s almost palatable,” you say.

Loki gives you a rather dry look. “Something that’s almost palatable?”

“I mean, I’m just trying to manage your expectations. It’s still pretty shitty coffee, it just tastes less burned.”

He looks at you for a long moment before tilting his head toward the hallway. “Come on, let’s go.”

It’s your turn to look skeptical. “What are we doing?”

“We’re going out for dinner.”

*

He takes you to a twenty-four hour diner called Frank’s that’s maybe a five minute walk from the TVA. It’s one of those places with yellowing Formica tables and big booths covered in red faux leather patched with the occasional square of duct tape. It smells like coffee and grease with a faint odor of cigarette smoke despite the prominent no smoking signs.

“I wouldn’t have thought this kind of place was your style,” you say as you sit down in a booth next to the window.

“I’ve expanded my horizons,” he says, sliding into the seat across from you.

An older woman with greying blonde hair approaches your booth. She wears a nametag reading “Connie” in big capital letters, a sticker of a pink cat stuck on the space next to her name.

“How y’all doin’ tonight?” she says as she hands you each a laminated menu. She looks at Loki. “You want your usual?”

“Please,” he says.

“You got it.” She turns to you. “How ‘bout you, hon, can I get ya started with something to drink?”

“Coffee would be great.”

“All right, I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

You raise your eyebrows at Loki as she walks away. “You eat at diners and you have a usual order. My expectations are being completely upended.”

He returns your pleasantly amused expression. “And you have vending machine coffee for dinner. It’s a revealing night.”

“I mean, I don’t actively seek it out,” you say. “It’s a convenient option that I exercise only when I have no other choice.”

“No other choice?” A sly smile curls at his lips. “Do you not have the entire array of space and time at your fingertips?”

“Well, first of all, we aren’t supposed to use TemPads for personal errands without a supervisor’s approval.”

“Technically.”

“No, actually. It’s in the personnel manual. Like verbatim.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You would put yourself through the egregious physical suffering of vending machine coffee simply to appease the capricious whims of our cruel overseer Miss Minutes?”

You bite back a laugh. “You know she’s not actually our boss, right?”

“I can’t discount that possibility. She wields a concerning amount of power within the organization.”

Connie is back with your drinks—coffee for you and tea for Loki. “Sunday Special?” she asks Loki as she sets a metal teapot and empty mug in front of him.

“Please,” he says.

“You got it.” She looks at you. “Didya get a chance to look at the menu or do you need a minute?”

You’re feeling a little daring. “I’ll try the Sunday Special as well.”

“All right, two Sunday Specials comin’ right up,” she says, collecting your menus.

“So, what’s in a Sunday Special?” you ask Loki as you take a sip of your coffee.

“Boiled fish eggs, mainly,” he says, pouring the hot water into his tea mug.

“Liar,” you say promptly.

He raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t even look at the menu, how could you know?”

“Places like this don’t serve fish eggs,” you say. “Way too unusual and definitely the wrong price point.”

“I suppose you’ll just have to see,” he says with a playful glint in his eyes. The easy charm that you’ve seen him use with the others is on full display and it’s enough to make you giddy. Maybe he doesn’t dislike you after all.

“Well, if it’s fish eggs, you’re picking up the bill,” you say, “and I’ll be getting something else instead.”

“You’d really hold me responsible for your impulsive dinner selections?”

“Yep. And I don’t even feel bad about it.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you could be so unforgiving.”

“Well, you don’t know me all that well.”

“To be fair, you keep to yourself quite a bit.”

“A little bit,” you say. “But also to be fair, you haven’t really asked.”

“On work time?” he says, widening his eyes in mock horror. “That would mean write ups for both of us, I couldn’t let that happen.”

“I think I know enough about you to know that getting in trouble is not one of your primary concerns.”

He gives you a sly smile, like you’ve caught him out and he likes it. “That’s a diplomatic way to put it.” He takes a sugar packet from the dispenser on the table and tears it open before pouring it into his mug. “Well, we’re on break now, so you can safely tell me something about yourself.”

You drum your fingers on your coffee mug. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, this can’t be the only part of your life. Who are you outside the TVA? What did you do before this?”

That giddy feeling comes to a screeching halt and you take in a long, slow breath. It’s a simple question, one that most people can answer to some degree. For you, though, it’s a bit more complicated.

“Well,” you say. You take a sip of your coffee, mostly to give your hands something to do. “I don’t actually know—I chose not to remember when they gave me the option.”

You’re surprised by how gentle his eyes are when you look up. “My apologies,” he says, “I didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay,” you say and you really do mean it. “You couldn’t have known.”

Usually, you say something like this and then gently redirect the conversation, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes you want to continue. Like maybe he understands difficult things and doesn’t mind hearing about something that others would shy away from.

“When they told us everything and said they could fix our memories…” You clear your throat and focus your gaze just above his shoulder. “It’s weird, but I just had a feeling that it wouldn’t be good for me to know…that something really bad had happened. So I asked Mobius to check for me, just to be sure…” You swallow, blinking hard.

You remember how sad Mobius’ eyes were, how he’d gently placed a hand on your shoulder and said, “I think you’re making the right call, kid.”

“It’s not really okay, is it?” Loki says softly.

You shrug. “I mean, it’s…it is what it is.”

“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

“It’s not a lie—”

He raises a skeptical eyebrow and you remember that he is, in fact, the god of lies.

“It’s more like…I can’t really miss what I don’t know, but at the same time, the reality of that absence hurts a little. So maybe not exactly okay, but not exactly not okay, either.”

There’s a lot of kindness in his gaze and you have to look away because it makes your head spin and your breath catch in your throat. “I’m not really sure if that makes sense,” you say.

“It does.”

There’s a silence between you, but it’s not uncomfortable.

“Do you…do you think you’d want to forget if you had that option?” You’re not entirely sure what prompts the question and you regret it almost as soon as it leaves your mouth. “I’m sorry, that’s probably too personal.”

He shakes his head and there’s a warmth in his eyes that you don’t expect. “I rather think I owe you one.” He pauses, running a finger around the rim of his mug. “Sometimes I do,” he says finally. “It can be quite painful remembering.” He worries his lip between his teeth. “But I’m not sure who I would be without the knowledge of my past, either.” His gaze flicks back to you. “What’s it like for you? Do you feel like you know who you are without those memories?”

It’s a good question—one you’ve never been asked. “I mean, it’s hard to say for sure. I think I do,” you say. “Sometimes I wonder if I was different in my timeline. Maybe I was kinder because I had different experiences that made me more empathetic. Maybe I wasn’t—maybe I was worse. Maybe I had a villain arc.”

He chuckles. “That doesn’t seem likely.”

“I dunno, maybe it explains the vending machine coffee and my fish egg related threats,” you say and you feel almost giddy when he returns your smile. “Or maybe I’m the same and all those experiences that shaped me are just scars I can’t see.” You shrug and take a sip of your coffee. “At the end of the day, though, that timeline is gone. I’m all that’s left. It’s sad, but it’s also freeing, in a way.”

He nods. “Mobius has said much the same.”

You smile slightly. “Our philosophies are similar, I suppose, though I think there are probably more bits of his past self in his present self than he realizes.”

Loki grins. “It’s the jet skis, isn’t it?”

“I mean, I just don’t think most normal people spend that much time expounding on the reliability of the Yamaha engine versus the pure, raw power of the Kawasaki.”

Loki holds up a finger. “But have you gotten the lecture about Yamaha’s braking system?”

“I think I have that memorized at this point.”

“‘The perfect choice for families.’”

“‘You just tap the brakes. Just tap them. Perfectly smooth stop every time.’”

“‘Reliability meets affordability.’”

“‘You can’t say no to that.’”

You think you probably could have riffed on this for a bit, but you’re interrupted by the arrival of Connie with your dinner.

The Sunday Special turns out to be a fairly traditional breakfast—eggs, hash browns, two fluffy pancakes, sausage, toast, a little bowl of strawberries.

“Definitely lots of fish eggs in this meal,” you say to Loki after Connie leaves.

His smile is small, but genuine. “You haven’t looked under the pancakes yet.”

You feel it then, but you don’t fully understand until later that this dinner has unlocked something important between the two of you. After months of awkward, stilted conversation, it’s like you finally understand how to talk to each other. And you’re surprised to find that even outside of your big stupid crush, you actually like Loki. You like his sly smiles and his dry humor and how easily the two of you fall into a routine of playful banter. You click in a way that surprises you, in a way that makes you mourn the lost potential of all those awkward, stilted months and feel giddy about the possibilities ahead.

Dinner is over too soon and you walk back to the TVA feeling revived from the coffee and the conversation. 

Disaster awaits you back at the office, though: you’d left a stack of the Nero variant files on your desk and evidently the construction was too precarious, as the entire pile had tipped off your desk and spilled to the floor, contents scattered everywhere.

“Fucking hell,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. You’re not sure whether you want to laugh, cry, or scream. Possibly, it’s all three.

“Here.” Loki is bending down on the floor to gather the files. You studiously try to not ogle his ass or thighs. Or at least not obviously. “Clear off some space on your desk—I’ll help.”

Twenty minutes later, you’ve set up an entirely new system—Loki has dragged his chair over to your desk and the cart of unsorted files sits between you, like a surly metallic chaperone. And even later when you’ve sorted out all of the files from the floor, he remains parked at the end of your desk, a stack of new, unsorted files in front of him. Admittedly, it’s a lot more efficient for you to work like this: privately, though, it gives you a warm glow that has nothing to do with workplace efficiency.

“I’ve invented a new game,” he says some time later. 

“What’s that?”

“Every time either one of us finds documentation showing Renato Lucchese losing money on a racehorse he was told was not a good investment, I get to have a drink.”

You look up at him. “Look, I know you’re a god and everything, but I am pretty sure that will kill you.”

He sighs and tosses the file into the Lucchese pile. “I think it would add a little excitement to the evening, don’t you?”

You raise your eyebrows and look back at the file in front of you. “You mean this isn’t your idea of a fun Friday night?”

“My idea of a fun Friday night includes far fewer files and a lot more debauchery,” he says, taking a new file from the cart.

You glance at the clock. “Well, it’s only eleven. I don’t usually start body shots until after midnight.”

“What are body shots?”

For one horrifying moment, you think that you’re going to actually have to explain this to him, but then you get a good look at his expression.

He’s teasing you.

“You’re an ass,” you say, swatting him on the shoulder with the file you’re holding.

He wags a finger at you. “That’s workplace violence. I’m going to have to report that.”

You lean back in your chair and return to your file. “I’m pretty confident that you’ll be put off by the amount of paperwork that process requires.”

He shakes his head as he returns to his own file. “Uncontrolled bureaucracy is how bad actors escape accountability.” There’s a brief pause. “And…there’s another racehorse.”

You continue on like this for the rest of the evening, occasionally chatting and Loki proving definitively that the Renato Lucchese racehorse drinking game could not be played without resulting in a fatality. It’s nice, though. Yes, it’s sorting files and yes, it’s not the most intellectually riveting task you’ve ever done, but spending time with Loki is nice. It’s because of this that you find yourself trying to stay awake, pushing past your looming exhaustion.

But around two, you can’t quite fight the heaviness of your eyelids any longer and you doze off in the middle of a report on the sinking of the Lusitania.

“Hey.” Loki is gently shaking your shoulder. The way he says your name in that deliciously deep voice makes you want to swoon and you’re glad that you have the ready made excuse of sleepiness to explain any embarrassing behavior on your end.

“I think you’d better call it a night,” he says gently. “Get some sleep and come back with fresh eyes.”

“What about you?” you say. “Are you going to do the same, or are you just all talk?”

He smiles at you and it warms you to the very tips of your toes. You could bask in that smile like a cat in a sunbeam.

“I’m starting to fade a bit myself,” he says

“Very convenient,” you say and he grins at you.

“Come on, I’ll see you back home.”

Part of you wants to protest—there’s really no need for him to walk you home—but a larger, louder part of you wants to let it be, prolong the magic of tonight for just a little longer.

There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you as you walk out of the office together. 

“What time do you think you’re going to come in tomorrow?” he asks as you approach the residential wing. “It’s probably sensible to coordinate our efforts a bit.”

“Yeah, that’s a good point,” you say. “I was thinking nine, but that will be dependent on how much coffee I have.”

“Yes, about that,” he says. “I cannot stand idly by and watch you torture yourself with vending machine coffee.”

“Well, the cafeteria will be open, so I was going to torture myself with cafeteria coffee, which is at least thirty percent less over brewed.”

He clicks his tongue. “You’re not making a compelling case for yourself.”

“To be fair, it’s quite late and I’ve been staring at files for hours.”

“All the more reason to get decent coffee,” he says. “We’re going out for breakfast.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, we are?”

“Consider it an intervention,” he says. “I’ll come collect you at eight.”

You’re not quite sure if this is just his natural confidence and swagger coming through or if he’s flirting with you and this counts as a date.

“Where are we going?”

“I know a place.”

*

The place in question turns out to be a food cart in Central Park in 1998.

“Should I even bother asking if you have supervisor approval for this?” you say, looking skeptically at the time door glimmering before you.

Loki scoffs. “I don’t have a supervisor.”

“You do. It’s Mobius.”

“That can’t be right, we’re peers.”

“You’re absolutely not. Did you read any of the onboarding materials?”

He ignores your question. “I don’t see why I’d even need a supervisor, honestly.”

You snort. “Need I remind you of what happened at the Nixon inauguration?”

He spreads his hands in front of him. “It’s not my fault that I’m the only one with a sense of humor.”

“I’m not entirely sure that was the problem,” you say. “Gerald Ford is never going to be the same, from what I understand.”

Loki waves a dismissive hand. “He’ll be fine, the tail isn’t permanent. Now, are you coming or not?”

You roll your eyes at him and make a halfhearted complaint about proper protocol, but you know that you’re walking through that time door and not looking back. You knew that before he even posed the question.

The food cart is owned by a man named Samir who has a wide smile and booming laugh. He talks to Loki like he’s a friend and he tells you that you have the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen. You are fairly certain he’s exaggerating, but you stuff a few extra bills into the tip jar anyway.

“I can’t believe you fell for that,” says Loki as you walk away, each carrying a coffee and a brown paper bag with a breakfast sandwich.

“Fell for what?” you say, batting your eyes at him. “I do have beautiful eyes.”

“I’ve heard him say that on at least thirty separate occasions.”

“Yeah, but this time he really meant it. I could tell.”

He rolls his eyes and leads you to a park bench overlooking a wide, grassy field. The leaves are just starting to change and the air has a little bit of a bite to it. 

You sit down on the bench and take a sip of your coffee.

“It is good coffee, I’ll give you that,” you say.

“See,” says Loki, “you can’t go back to that vending machine sludge after this.”

“I mean, if it’s eleven o’clock at night and I’m on a deadline, I can.”

“Darling. You have a TemPad.”

“Loki. Read the personnel manual.”

He wrinkles his nose. “It’s not really my genre.”

You roll your eyes and take out your breakfast sandwich. “What is your genre?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is that a serious question?”

“Of course it is,” you say. “I love talking about books.”

He gives you a slight smile and takes a sip of his coffee. “A little bit of everything, honestly,” he says. “Philosophy. Magical theory. History. Politics. Anything from Asgard, really, though it can be a bit more challenging getting some of those titles.”

“I’ve had pretty good luck with the Library of the Sacred Timeline—have you checked there yet?”

He frowns. “I’m not familiar.”

“Oh, you’d like it—it’s on the eighteenth floor. It’s intended to be a collection of the greatest works of literature from as many branches of the timeline as possible,” you say. “It started as a research project, but people liked it and it just kind of evolved into this huge collection. They’ve actually got a pretty sizeable collection of books from Asgard.”

It’s like you’ve told him that his personal paradise had been located on the eighteenth floor this entire time. “Will you show me?”

He is practically vibrating with the sort of anticipatory, manic energy that you typically would associate with Christmas morning right before you tear into presents. It’s sweetly endearing.

“Of course.”

Ten minutes later, you’re leading him through the winding hallways on the eighteenth floor. You’re not surprised he hasn’t heard about the library—it’s a bit out of the way and the eighteenth floor is so poorly designed that it’s not terribly easy to find.

The design of the library is a sharp departure from the rest of the TVA. The shelves and floors are made of the kind of dark mahogany that you typically see in the kind of estates that look like something directly out of a Jane Austen novel. Worn oriental rugs muffle your footsteps on the creaky wood floors and the air smells faintly of dust and paper.

There’s a subtle change in Loki when you walk through the doors—almost like a muscle in his shoulders finally relaxes and he seems truly at home for the first time since he arrived.

You touch his hand. “This way.”

You lead him into the stacks, back to the far corner, right after the books from Alfheim.

“You can borrow whichever ones you like,” you say softly. “There’s a sign out sheet at the front desk.”

He nods, though you don’t think he really hears you—he only has eyes for the shelves, his gaze sweeping across the spines like they’re old friends. You’re about to excuse yourself to give him a little privacy when his brow furrows and he exhales sharply. “Oh, you can’t be serious.”

“What is it?”

They have the entirety of the finest Asgardian literature at their disposal. Untold centuries of the writings of our greatest minds—” he plucks a book off the shelf, “—and they choose to include this?”

The title looks fairly innocuous—a red, leather bound book with the title The Cloistered Heart embossed in gold script on the front. You take the book from him and open it. “What’s the problem with this?”

“It’s inconsequential fluff, literary pablum of the highest order.”

This is the Loki that you’re more familiar with and a smile curls at your lips. Almost on cue, you flip the book open to a chapter titled “The Wedding and Bedding of Aloisa.”

You bite back a laugh and look up at him. “It’s a romance novel.”

“Precisely my point,” he says. “To think that this is on the same shelf as Nielsen and Auber.”

“That’s kind of how libraries work,” you say, flipping further into the book. The phrases “throbbing length” and “eager moans” draw your eye and you have to tamp down another laugh. “Oh, and it’s a sexy romance novel.”

“It appeals to the lowest common denominator, yes.”

“What, so you’re too good for a bodice ripper?”

He scoffs. “I prefer to do the bodice ripping myself, not read some overwrought description of it.”

You are glad you’re looking at the book because you’re pretty sure you’d disintegrate if you had to make eye contact with him while he delivered that line. “Oh spare me,” you say lightly, snapping the book shut and drawing it to your chest. “I’m gonna read this.”

He blows out a puff of air. “It’s a waste of your time.”

“I’ve got lots of time, I can afford to waste it,” you say cheekily. “Besides, I’m curious to see what kind of book turns the god of mischief into a pearl clutching prude.”

Loki sputters. “Prude? Darling, let me assure you, I’m no prude—”

“I’ll leave you to browse,” you say with a grin as you turn away from him. “Come find me at the front when you’re ready to go.”

You’re a few chapters into the book when Loki rejoins you at the front of the library, a small stack of books tucked under his arm.

You close your book with a snap. “This book is a delight. I think your real issue is just that you’re no fun.”

He scoffs. “I’m very fun.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You bicker playfully back and forth as you check out your books and leave the library. A quick glance at your watch tells you that you spent much more time there than you’d planned. You can’t quite bring yourself to worry about that, though, not with the memory of Loki’s wonderstruck expression burning so bright in your mind.

There’s a bit of a lull in the conversation as you wait for the elevator.

“Thank you,” he says softly.

“For what?”

“For showing me that.”

“Of course. I’m sorry you didn’t know about it sooner.”

He looks at you, lips parting slightly like he’s about to say something. His tongue swipes briefly over his bottom lip and you would swear that his gaze drops to your mouth for just a second.

For just a second—one heady, slightly irrational second—you think he might be about to kiss you.

The ding of the elevator arriving breaks the spell, startling you just a little. You run a hand through your hair, trying to give off the impression of composure even as your heart beats wildly in your chest.

Loki gestures to the elevator doors. “After you.”

There is a group of analysts in the elevator already, chatting animatedly and completely obliterating any chance you may have had at recapturing that moment.

You try not to dwell too much in contemplating what ifs or timeline branches—often, it feels too much like work, something Mobius might assign you.

But you know that the possibility of that moment—what if the elevator had been a hair slower, what if those analysts had taken a different route, what if you were braver—you know that’s something that’s going to haunt you for a while.

*

You wouldn’t give up that time in the library for anything—it’s one of those moments that feels formative, something that you’ll return to again and again for one reason or another.

But it’s also true that it’s time that you probably could have used for sorting files and as Saturday ticks on, you can’t help but wish you had a way to pull another hour out of somewhere.

“We’re not going to be able to make this deadline, are we?” you say with a sigh.

It’s getting late into the evening and the cart of files still to be sorted still remains depressingly full, despite the fact that you’d brought both lunch and dinner back to your desk so you could continue working.

Loki eyes the remaining files. “I think we might. We made good progress today.”

You rub your eyes. “My brain feels like it’s about to leak out my ears.”

Loki takes the file you are working on and sets it back in the stack of unsorted files. “I think that might be a sign it’s time to turn in,” he says.

“There’s still so much left.”

“There’s still tomorrow.”

You reach for the file. “Well, let me just—”

He pulls your hand away from the pile. “You can come back to it in the morning. Besides, if you’re this tired, you’re not going to do good work anyway.”

He squeezes your hand and drops it. It’s brief enough to still be friendly, but unusual enough to make you wonder and send your mind racing back to that moment by the elevator.

You shake the thought away. It’s late and you’re tired.

You heave a world weary sigh and slump back in your chair. “I hate it when you’re right.”

To his credit, he only smirks a little. “Come on. I’ll walk you back.”

Once again, there’s no reason for him to do this, but once again, you’re inclined to let him.

You pack up for the evening and walk out of the office side by side. You’re trying very hard not to think about the fact that this is likely the last night that you’ll do this, that tomorrow the assignment will be over.

As you near the residential wing, you start to hear distant shouts. If you inhale deeply, you catch a very faint whiff of explosives—you’re not sure what kind.

“I think someone brought work home,” you say with a sigh. 

This happens from time to time—things get out of hand in the field or something happens when retrieving an asset or a target and all hell breaks loose at the TVA. Mobius had once referred to it as “bringing work home” and the name had stuck.

“Wasn’t there an incident in this wing not long ago?” asks Loki.

“Yes.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I had to call off the next day—I got no sleep that night.” You listen carefully, trying to determine the source of the noise and the status of the problem. “But maybe it’s almost over,” you say with an optimism you don’t fully feel. “Sometimes these things are resolved really quick.”

Your heart continues to sink the closer you come to your home. The acrid burn of explosives only increases and you think you catch the low, dull roar of something not quite human.

And indeed, when you turn the final corner, you are immediately stopped by an electric blue barrier being monitored by a hunter. G-21–you’ve worked with her on a couple of missions before.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” slips out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.

“There’s an ongoing incident in this area,” says G-21 and you almost want to laugh because no shit. 

“How long do you think it’s gonna be closed off?” you ask.

She shrugs. “We’re at a code 54 right now, but it’s probably gonna escalate.”

With pitch perfect timing and before you can even try to remember what a code 54 means, there’s an almighty crash and a low bellow.

“Go!” she yells before running toward the commotion amid frantic calls for backup.

Loki is grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a run.

Your standard issue work shoes are comfortable enough on a day to day basis, but you certainly want to have words with whoever decided that leather soled shoes with absolutely no grips were a good choice for a building floored almost entirely in linoleum. In a low stakes situation, it’s meant occasionally you wipe out in the cafeteria and hurt nothing but your pride. In this situation, it means that Loki’s firm grip on your hand is the only thing keeping you upright.

But there’s a small mercy in that while you can still hear distant crashes and shrieks, whatever is happening down that hallway doesn’t seem to be following you and eventually, you both slow to a brisk walk and Loki drops your hand.

You haven’t even had a chance to consider where you are going to sleep tonight. You could probably curl up on that terrible couch in the office and just plan on getting up early enough to run back to your place for a quick shower and a change of clothes…assuming the incident resolves by then—

“You can stay with me,” says Loki, as though he can hear you trying to sort this out.

“Oh, that’s okay, I’ll just—”

“If you say you’re going to sleep on that terrible couch in the office, I will personally take you to the most boring governmental proceeding I can find and leave you there until you come to your senses.”

“Sounds like a great place to fall asleep,” you say.

His eyes glint, but his tone brooks no arguments. “You’re staying with me tonight.”

You sigh, but you can’t think of a counterpoint. “When did you get so bossy?”

“Darling, I’m a prince,” he says with a bit of a wry smirk. “It’s my birthright.”

Loki lives on the opposite end of the residential wing and his place looks quite a bit like yours—he’s got an extra window in the kitchen but the floor plan is otherwise the same. A lot of his furniture is standard issue, but there are little details that make it seem more personal: an area rug with a bit of fraying on the edges, a painting of what you think is an Asgardian landscape, a vase filled with dried flowers so delicate they look like they might disintegrate if you were to touch them. And books—so many books. Books on shelves, stacked on the coffee table, tucked into the little rack that you know is meant to hold magazines. Hardbacks, paperbacks, leather bound, dog-eared, well-worn and brand new. It’s no wonder he was so excited about the library.

“Have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the couch. “I’ll get some things for you.”

You sit down and he disappears down the hall. You idly examine the books stacked on the end table next to you. Many are quite clearly from Asgard and it sparks a pang of sympathy—it’s like his homesickness is on full display in his living room and there’s something sweet and sad about seeing that vulnerability laid so bare.

He returns a few minutes later with a pair of pajamas, a toothbrush, and a hand towel.

“Here,” he says, handing you the pile. “Bathroom’s just down the hall. I’ll make up a bed for you.”

“Thanks.”

In the bathroom, you realize that the pajamas he’s given you aren’t the standard set you can order from the TVA. These are made of a dark emerald silk that ripples over your skin like water, and somehow, that makes it feel a thousand times more personal than if he’d loaned you a standard set. They don’t fit quite right on you, but they’ll work well enough for tonight.

You brush your teeth and attempt to get through as much of your evening routine as you can before collecting your clothes and exiting the bathroom.

When you return to the living room, you expect to find that he’s made up a bed for you on the couch. These living units only have one bedroom—it would be quite reasonable to have you sleep on the couch.

You do not expect to find a pajama clad Loki stretched out reading on the couch, a blanket over his lap and his head propped up on a pillow like he intends to sleep there.

You exhale slowly. “Please tell me you are not giving up your bed.”

“Don’t be absurd, of course I am,” he says without even looking up from his book. “The point of this was to prevent you from sleeping on a couch, not simply put you on a couch in a different location.”

You wish you had something to throw at him. “You don’t even fit on that couch.”

“Luckily, my knees bend. Besides, you’re a guest,” he says, as though that settles it.

You roll your eyes and plunk yourself down in the armchair across from the couch, setting your pile of clothes on the floor. “I’m not moving until you give up the couch.”

He finally looks up from his book. “You’re really going to do this?”

You examine your fingernails, flicking away an invisible speck of dust. “I’m not the one being unreasonable. I’m simply meeting you at your level.”

“If you think that I’m being unreasonable and you’re also saying you’re meeting me at my level, does that not mean you are admitting that you are being unreasonable?”

“It’s nearly one o’clock in the morning. I’m not arguing semantics with you.”

“Fine.” His eyes glimmer as he sets his book down and slowly rises to his feet. “But you’re still not sleeping on the couch.”

“Oh, you’re going to be so disappointed when you realize how wrong you are,” you say. You think you see your opening and you try to play it cool.

He’s walking toward you, leaving your path to the couch wide open. In your head, you can see exactly how this works: you’ll spring from your chair and dart around the coffee table before diving onto the couch like a baseball player sliding into home plate, soundly defeating Loki. Easy peasy.

Instead, what happens is that you spring to your feet and Loki moves with inhuman speed, grabbing you around your waist and pinning you to the front of his chest, stopping you in your tracks almost immediately.

“I suppose I should have expected that,” he says. Your back is facing him, but you can almost hear the dry, sardonic look he’s giving you.

“Probably,” you say. “God of mischief and all.” You struggle fruitlessly against his iron grip. “You can let me go now.”

He laughs. “I’m afraid I can’t. It was clearly a mistake to trust you. I won’t be making that error again.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, trying again to squirm away from him. “Let me go.”

“The interesting thing about all of this is that you’ve made a rather substantial tactical error,” he says, continuing as though he can’t hear you.

“You’re bluffing,” you say with more confidence than you feel.

“Fascinating theory,” he says, “but I don’t think it’s going to work out for you.”

With that same ridiculous speed, he’s suddenly spinning you around and lifting you, tossing you easily over his shoulder.

“Hey!” you shout in protest.

“I warned you,” he says, his voice full of mirth as he carries you toward the bedroom.

This is not exactly how you’ve imagined being carried off to bed by Loki.

Though, admittedly, you do have a nice view of his ass.

“This is ridiculous,” you say.

“You brought this upon yourself.” He’s walking into the bedroom and a moment later, he’s lifting you from his shoulder and tossing you unceremoniously onto his bed.

You scramble to your feet and try to lunge toward the door, but he’s clearly expecting that. Before your feet even hit the floor, he catches you around the waist and hauls you back to the bed. Your back hits the mattress and you try to leverage the momentum to propel yourself back onto your feet.

He catches you immediately and you find yourself back on the bed again.

“I don’t mean to be patronizing,” he says, failing to bite back a laugh, “but it’s adorable that you think you can outmaneuver me.”

That is deeply offensive and the only way you can earn my forgiveness is by letting me take my rightful place on the couch.” You can’t quite keep the laugh from your voice.

He grins. “Not a chance.”

You attempt to dive off the opposite side of the bed, only to have him grab you by the ankles and pull you back. You manage to dislodge him and lunge in the opposite direction, only to be immediately thwarted.

It becomes increasingly hilarious the longer it goes on and soon your sides are aching from laughter. Loki is laughing too, but it doesn’t seem to affect his strength or speed at all.

Eventually, he wrestles you back down onto the bed and you are fairly certain there’s no way out of this one—he’s got your wrists pinned above your head and his legs locked around yours. You’re both a little out of breath.

“Yield,” he says.

You shake your head. “Never.”

His gaze flicks to your lips and back to your eyes. “Yield.”

“No.”

Something has changed. There’s an electricity and intensity that crackles in the air between you, possibilities blooming in both of your gazes. It feels a little like that moment by the elevator, but you’re afraid to hope, afraid to even wish because the idea of him wanting you still feels as impossible as capturing smoke with a net. 

But the way he’s looking at you, the way his gaze keeps drifting between your eyes and your lips…that’s not nothing.

“Yield.”

You lick your lips, your heart beating wildly. “No.”

Is it just your imagination, or did his breath hitch when you licked your lips?

“Yield.”

God, he’s so close and you want him so badly. 

“No.”

He looks again at your lips and this time, he closes the distance between you.

They call him Silvertongue—you’ve heard the jokes, you’ve rolled your eyes at all of them. But as he kisses you, you realize that there’s an element of truth there because only seconds in and you’re ready to sign away your soul to live under the power of Loki’s tongue. The slow, warm slide of it against yours, the way he guides your mouth against his, the way he lets out a soft sigh as he tastes you—you would give up everything if it meant you could stay like this.

“Yield,” he breathes against your lips.

“No,” you say.

He deepens the kiss, catching your lower lip between his teeth and gently tugging until you whimper and arch against him.

He still has your hands pinned against the bed, his grip unyielding when you try to wrestle them away.

“Let me touch you,” you say when he draws back. You want to touch him everywhere—run your hands along every muscle you’ve admired from afar. 

“Then yield,” he says with a grin, his eyes flashing with devilish intent.

You consider this for a moment. You could give in—there aren’t really any stakes at this point and you’re pretty sure you’re both going to end up sleeping in his bed tonight anyway. But that glint of mischief in his eyes also promises some intriguing possibilities if you stand firm.

“No,” you say.

“Such a pity,” says Loki, though his expression is one of hungry delight.

His hands slip free of your wrists then, but they stay pinned to the bed by some invisible force.

“Cheater,” you say. 

“I think this is only fair,” he says, his hands sliding to your hips. “I’m clearly the victor, am I not entitled to my prize?”

You shiver. “Your prize?”

“Yes.” He kisses down the column of your throat. “My lovely, lovely prize.”

“How can I be your prize if I’m also your competitor?”

“You think too much,” he mumbles against your neck.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Generally, it’s not.” He sits back on his heels between your legs, looking you over with satisfaction. “But in this case, it’s distracting you from more pressing matters.” His hands creep under the hem of your shirt, stroking the small of your back, thumbs tracing teasingly along the waistband of your pajama pants. 

“Have I mentioned how much I enjoy seeing you in my clothes?” he asks. There’s a husky depth to his voice and a hunger in his eyes that sends a flood of arousal to your cunt.

“You have not,” you say.

“A casualty of too much thinking,” he says solemnly, his thumbs gently grazing the skin at your hipbones. “You look utterly delectable. I almost want to leave them on.” His eyes glitter with mischief. “Almost.” His hand strays to the bottom button on your pajama top. “May I?”

You nod. “Yes.”

He slips the button free and slowly makes his way up until your shirt is open. He carefully pushes the fabric aside, baring your breasts to his sight and touch.

You’ve never felt more beautiful seeing Loki stare at you, lips slightly parted, eyes wide and hungry. He trails one hand up your stomach and rib cage and slowly brushes a thumb over your nipple. You gasp and the sensitive skin puckers and stiffens as he palms your breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs as he lowers his mouth to your breast, his tongue and lips taking up the role of his hand, while his other hand moves to cup your other breast. You whimper, wishing you could run your hands through his hair. “That’s it,” he purrs, “I want to hear all the sounds you can make, my love.”

You rock your hips forward and arch your back as he lavishes attention on your breasts. It’s the most delicious kind of torture, having him so close, but not being able to touch him.

He’s taking his time, which you both love and hate. He feels so good, but you need him to touch you, you need to touch him, you need him inside of you. You wait until you can’t take it any more and breathe his name like it’s a prayer.

You wonder if this is what he was waiting for because with little more than a brief smirk and a wicked look, he starts kissing his way back up your chest and neck. You whimper when his lips meet yours and you can feel him grin as he kisses you. He fits his hips against yours, angling himself so that his cock rubs up against your clit just right and you moan into his mouth. You can tell that he’s big and part of you wants to savor the anticipation even though you feel like you might go mad if he doesn’t fuck you now. You rock your hips against him, trying to feel that friction.

His large hands frame your face, one hand sliding to cradle the back of your head so he can draw you deeper, the other trailing from your cheek to your throat.

Both hands soon stroke down your sides, lingering teasingly at the waistband of your pajama pants. He hooks his thumbs underneath the waistband and you lift your hips. He slides your pants down maybe an inch and you can feel him smiling as he kisses you. You lift your hips again and your waistband creeps down another inch.

“Loki.” His name falls from your lips with a sigh.

“What is it, my love?”

“Touch me,” you breathe. “Please.”

You lift your hips again and this time, he pulls the fabric fully down and off your legs. He guides your legs apart and stares appreciatively at your bare cunt, his teasing expression replaced by a rapt awe.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs. 

You believe him.

His hands stroke your thighs, seemingly in no hurry, despite your pleading whimpers and the way you arch against the mattress. He draws his thumb gently along your slit, barely grazing your clit.

“Do you know what an utter distraction it’s been sitting behind you?” he asks, tracing your clit in the slowest, lightest circle.

You arch upward, hands still bound by his magic. “Tell me,” you breathe, your hips rising to chase his hand.

“Every time you stood up, I could only think about bending you over the desk.”

You manage a sly smirk. “And here I thought you didn’t like me much at all.”

His thumb presses a little more against your clit and you moan.

“I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you,” he says, rolling his thumb in a slow circle. “I kept you at arm’s length partly as a matter of protection.”

For who?”

“You,” he says. “I’m not fully redeemed in some eyes and you being involved with a dangerous variant—”

“You’re not,” you say.

“Some would disagree.”

“Well, they’re wrong,” you say. “You’re not a dangerous variant. You’re Loki Laufeyson and I want you just as you are.”

There’s something unreadable in his expression and it makes you wonder how many people have told him that he can just be himself.

“You should be careful saying such lovely things to me, you know,” he says solemnly.

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh really? And why is that?”

“Because it makes me want to do very wicked things to you.”

You’re surprised you’re not shaking, you want him so badly. “What kinds of wicked things?”

“Oh, all manner of wicked things.” He presses a kiss to the inside of your knee, his tongue swiping briefly against your skin. “Things with my mouth...” His thumb rolls over your clit again, his index finger teasing your entrance before retreating. “…my hands…” He drags his gaze over your naked form before locking eyes with you. “My cock.”

A shiver works its way up your spine. “So if I talk about how I think you’re really clever and funny and I find it unbelievably sexy, what sort of wicked thing would that merit?”

The intensity of his gaze makes you shiver again. He crouches down and presses another kiss against the inside of your knee, slowly moving upward. “If you keep talking like that, I’m not going to let you leave my bed for days.”

“You know that’s not a disincentive, right?” you say, sucking in a sharp breath as he nips at the soft skin of your inner thigh. “I’ve wanted you for such a long time, Loki.”

“I’ll make it weeks if you’re not careful.”

“Again, not a disincentive.” You gently tug at your bound wrists and find that they’re still firmly secured. It’s exhilarating, even though you really wish you could run your hands through his hair, especially if he ends up where you think he’s going.

“What else should I tell you?” you muse as he continues his agonizingly slow path along your thigh. “You know, half the reason I kept to myself was that I wanted you so much I was certain that I’d make a fool of myself.”

That earns you a few circles of your clit with his thumb, but his progress up your thigh remains slow. You have a theory about what might move the needle, though.

“I know you like to act like you’re this sort of barely reformed villain, but I think there’s more good in you than you’d like people to believe.”

This time, he moves up to the crease where your thigh joins your hip, close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath ghosting along your labia. His tongue traces a line along your skin and you briefly wonder if you’ll be able to hold it together enough to deliver the last part.

“And,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “yesterday and today made me want you even more because I feel like I finally saw who you really are and you’re even more wond—”

Your words abruptly give way to a breathy moan because his perfect, skilled tongue has finally found its way to your clit.

You had a plan from here, but whatever it was has dissolved into nothing under the skilled caress of Loki’s tongue. You suspected he would be good at this from the way that he’d kissed you earlier, but you could not have imagined that it would feel like this.

“Oh my god, Loki.” Your thighs are already quaking. You tug again at the invisible bonds on your wrists, but they hold fast. Something about the way the bonds are keeping you gently stretched along the bed combined with how his large hands have your thighs spread open seems to heighten every sensation. There’s no wiggling away from him or adjusting yourself so that you feel more or less of the onslaught of his tongue on your cunt. You are completely at his mercy and you’re not entirely surprised that you fucking love it.

He slides a finger into your aching channel and your cunt shudders around the thick intrusion. The warm, roiling center of your orgasm starts builds in your hips with every stroke of his tongue, spinning faster and faster, like ocean winds whipping up into a hurricane. Your back arches and his tongue presses flat against your clit, and suddenly you know that this is going to be what takes you over the edge.

Loki seems to know it too, at least from the way that he presses his tongue more firmly against you, one arm slung across your hips to hold you in place. His other hand slides two fingers inside you, rocking and curling against that aching, tender spot.

You whimper, your hips bucking wildly. It’s so good and so much and you are almost there.

You look down at him then, his hair wild, hollowed cheeks flushed pink as his tongue works you over, his eyes closed like he couldn’t imagine anything more blissful than being in between your legs while you come undone.

This is ultimately what tips you over the edge. The storm that has been forming inside you is finally let loose and you arch your back and cry out in a wordless scream as your climax crashes into you.

Only then do the bonds around your wrists release and your hands fly down to grab his hair as your body shakes with pleasure.

It takes a moment for you to get your breath back and reacquaint yourself with the concept of speech, but when you do, you find Loki looking up at you, his expression pure mischief.

“And to think you wanted to sleep on the couch.”

“It wasn’t that I wanted to sleep on the couch, it’s that—” Your voice cuts off as his tongue starts stroking your clit again.

“It’s what?” he asks in between strokes, his smirk obvious in his voice. The lingering ripples of your orgasm are coalescing around the path of his tongue, tightening that coil in your belly again.

“Fuck—you’re not playing fair, you can’t just—” You lose your sentence to a low moan that rises up from your chest. “You can’t just—fuck, yes—you can’t…oh god, yes, just like that.”

His laughter rumbles against you as your hips start rocking against his mouth. How are you already so close?

“You can’t just—fuck—win an argument by—”

You’re trying to say that he can’t expect to win an argument by making you come and you think he might understand this based on how determined he seems to be to prove you wrong. His fingers curl again until he finds that soft, tender spot that is so often the key to your unraveling.

You have stopped trying to complete that sentence—you moan, your hands tangling in his hair, urging him on as the swell of your climax rushes up, inevitable as a tidal wave looming over a seaside village.

You cry out as it crests and breaks, falling down over you in a rush of tingling pleasure that feels like champagne and fireworks all at once.

“Now, what was it you were saying, my love?” he asks as he releases your clit a moment later. “Something about how I can’t just win an argument by making you come? I couldn’t quite hear you over the sound of you coming completely undone on my tongue.”

“Oh, you think you’re so smart,” you say, giving him a stern look as he crawls up your body.

“You know what I think?” he says, settling himself on his side next to you. “I think you liked submitting to me.”

You shiver before you can even think about hiding it and his smile turns decidedly vulpine. 

“You did, didn’t you? You liked having your hands bound and being completely at my mercy while I licked your pretty cunt until you came undone in my mouth.”

“You are enjoying this far too much,” you say.

“I am enjoying it the correct amount.”

You realize your hands are now free to explore his body and you tug at his pajama shirt. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes,” you say.

He gives you a wicked grin as he lets you pull his shirt over his head. “Yes, perhaps it’s time we even things up.”

You pull the shirt away and rake your eyes over him greedily, your hands following the path of your gaze. He is as perfect as you imagined, unfairly beautiful in the dim light of the bedroom.

You hook your thumbs into the waistband of his pajama pants and lower them an inch, a cheeky parallel of how he teased you earlier. His lips curl into a sharp smile when he realizes what you’re doing.

“Interesting strategy.” There’s a bit of a growl in his voice, a rough desperation that makes your cunt clench. “But I think you forgot that I have the upper hand here.”

He raises his hand and with a twist of his wrist, his remaining clothes dissolve in a shimmer of green and he is bare before you.

Your breath catches in your throat. His cock commands your immediate attention, nudging up against your thigh—he’s big, as you suspected, but completely bare and rock hard, he somehow seems longer and thicker than he had when he was grinding against you.

He pulls you into a slow kiss as you reach for his cock. You wrap your hand around him, delighting in the silky hardness of him, the way he throbs in your hand and the low groan he makes as your hand moves from base to tip and back, the way his hips thrust along with you. Your cunt clenches in anticipation.

After a moment, though, he places his hand over yours, slowing your movements.

“I need to be inside you,” he rasps.

“Yes,” you breathe.

He rolls on top of you  and you’re not sure that you’ve ever felt anything quite as wonderful as the heat of his bare skin and yours pressed together. This feeling means intimacy, a closeness that you’d longed for but never expected even in your wildest daydreams.

He pulls you into a kiss, slow, soft, and languid, like you have all the time in the world and he intends to take it. It’s decadent and dreamy and perfect.

But the heavy weight of his bare cock resting against your stomach combined with the ache between your legs—an ache that would be so perfectly soothed by the hard column of flesh currently throbbing against you—proves to be a force too powerful to resist for very long.

You cant your hips against him, snaking one leg around his waist, hoping he’ll get the hint.

He does.

He braces himself on one hand, the other sliding between your bodies to rub his cock along your slick folds. He positions himself at your entrance, waiting for your breathy plea to begin to ease himself slowly into you.

He fills and stretches you in the most wonderful way, but even more than that, he feels like home. The thought strikes you quite suddenly and you’re not entirely sure about everything it means, but you know it’s good and right.

He pauses for just a moment, seeming to savor the feeling.

“You feel better than I ever imagined,” he says.

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “You imagined?”

He gives you a hungry smile as he leans in to kiss you. “Like I said: it has been an utter distraction sitting behind you.”

His rhythm is slow and easy, like he wants to take his time learning every inch of you and memorizing how you react to his touch. His mouth moves over yours in a slow kiss that’s somehow both languid and demanding, his tongue gliding in and out of your mouth in the same rhythm of his hips rocking into you. His cock bumps up against that sweet spot inside of you that his fingers had teased earlier, each stroke inching you closer to bliss.

He shifts the angle of his hips so that his pubic bone grinds against your clit and it feels so good you almost see stars. You can feel your orgasm building, your cunt growing slicker and tensing around his thrusting cock.

He draws back to look at you, eyes hazy with a loose, dreamy kind of pleasure.

“Do you have any idea how good you feel?” he breathes.

You are shaking. “Loki, I’m gonna come.”

“I know you are,” he purrs. “Let go for me, let me feel you, my love.”

With two more thrusts of his hips, you unravel.

He groans as you tremble around him, but mostly, he watches your face, rapt by the way you throw your head back against the bed and gasp his name like it’s the only thing that will save you.

“You’re beautiful when you come,” he breathes. “Absolutely stunning.”

He waits until you catch your breath before he kisses you again, slow and sensual. His hips are still rocking in that beautifully slow rhythm and you don’t know how it can still feel so good.

He keeps moving against you, his touch and his low murmurs of praise invoking a symphony of sensations. He presses deeper and your body sings with every thrust, your muscles tensing and tightening around him like you never want him to leave. Your climax swells again and you come with a whimper, your whole body shaking as he fucks you through it.

You want him to come, want to hear the sounds he makes and feel his sweet, hot release burning inside of you.

“I want you to come for me,” you breathe.

He grins at you. “Oh, I will, but not yet. You’re not done yet.”

You whimper. “Loki—”

“Two more, my love, two more and then I’ll come for you.”

Somehow, you give him three. By the second one, he’s panting and his words have become rough, his voice a growl as he utters some of the filthiest praise you’ve ever heard. The third builds quickly after that and you know instinctively that you’re going to take him over the edge with you this time.

You fight to keep your eyes open against the tidal wave of pleasure blooming again in your hips. You need to see him come undone.

As in everything else he does, he’s unfairly beautiful—he throws his head back, letting out a low groan that you can feel all the way to the tips of your toes. His cheeks are flushed, a few ink dark curls plastered to the light sheen of sweat on his forehead. You can feel him emptying himself inside you, his release hot and hard won.

It seems to last a long time and it’s another minute before his hips slow to a halt. He kisses you, so soft and sweet it would almost seem chaste were it not for the fact that his cock is still throbbing inside of you.

After a moment, he slowly eases out of you, rolling over onto his back, his arm snaking around your waist and pulling you to him like he can’t bear to be parted from you even for a moment.

You curl up against his side, your legs tangling with his. He takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours before resting your clasped hands on his heart.

You could fall in love like this, you think sleepily to yourself.

You don’t know it then, but you’re right.

*

Time moves differently at the TVA, but a couple years later, there’s a ring in a box on your desk.

Loki likes a spectacle and you’d daydreamed about a traditional wedding, but when you talk it over, you both agree that you want to do something different, something quiet, something just for the two of you.

“I do think we should tell Mobius beforehand,” you say to Loki.

“Isn’t the point of eloping that no one knows until after it’s done?” says Loki.

“Yes, but I feel like we could make one exception,” you say. “If we’d done a full wedding, I would have asked him to give me away.”

Loki’s gaze softens a bit then and he pulls you close. “All right. But we only tell him right before we leave. The man can’t keep a secret.”

But Mobius doesn’t seem terribly surprised when you tell him—in fact, he seems far more concerned about your wedding gift.

“I didn’t have a chance to wrap it yet,” he says. He’s retrieved a large picture frame that had been propped against his desk, though he keeps it turned away from you. “So…this also requires a bit of an overdue confession for context.”

You raise your eyebrows. “A confession?”

“A confession,” says Mobius.

“Will I be angry about this?” asks Loki at the same time you say, “Is this like a go to jail confession or a misdemeanor confession?”

Mobius gives a good natured chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “God, the two of you. Always so dramatic. No wonder you ended up together.” He takes what feels like an unnecessarily long drink from the coffee mug on his desk. “It’s not bad, I promise.” Another sip of coffee. 

Loki sighs. “He always does this,” he says to you. “Have you noticed? Whenever he has something that you want to know, he stalls and drags it out just to torment you.”

“Okay,” you say, “but you jumping in to bicker with him probably doesn’t help.”

“I’m not bickering,” says Loki. “I’m simply pointing out that he’s stalling—”

“What was it you were saying, Mobius?” you say brightly, nudging Loki with your elbow.

Mobius’ eyes twinkle. “See,” he says to Loki, “I always liked her. It’s a good match.”

You don’t have to look at Loki to know he’s rolling his eyes, though he also makes a point of surreptitiously pinching your ass, a detail you hope Mobius doesn’t notice.

“Anyway,” says Mobius, taking a deep breath, “it was pretty clear to me from the start that you liked each other. And you also seemed absolutely determined to get in your own way.” He points to Loki. “Especially you with your whole stilted Asgardian prince thing.”

Loki frowns. “What are you talking about?”

Mobius sighs. “Anytime you like someone, it’s like your brain gets a factory reset and you get all overly polite and courtly.”

Loki scoffs. “I don’t do that at all.”

“You do. It’s deeply weird. You’re like a mannerly robot.”

Loki turns to you. “Darling, tell him he’s being absurd.”

You reach over and squeeze his hand. “You did call me ‘my lady’ a couple of times in the early days.”

Loki sighs and looks back at Mobius. “What was your point in mentioning this?”

“Well,” says Mobius, “you seemed pretty determined to get in your own way, so nothing was happening. And eventually I got sick of all of the pining, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.”

“What do you mean?”

Mobius pauses, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “There wasn’t a breakthrough with Berlitz that weekend. What there was was a surplus in the overtime budget and a high priority indexing project for Archives.”

Your lips part as your brain slowly puts the pieces together. Mobius’ eyes twinkle.

“Wait,” you say, “you lied to us?”

“I did not lie,” says Mobius, his demeanor suddenly becoming very serious. “That would have been wrong.” He nods at Loki. “Also, it would’ve tipped him off and that would have ruined the whole thing. I simply failed to mention that the cart of files that I gave you needed to be sorted for indexing for the Archives department and I peppered in a couple of unrelated things about Berlitz.”

“But the office was empty that weekend,” says Loki.

Mobius snaps his fingers. “Right. I did make some adjustments to the schedule that weekend.”

“And the disturbance that prevented her from returning home on Saturday night?”

Mobius spreads his hands wide and grins. “All me, buddy. Paid G-21 five hundred bucks for that one.”

Loki pauses for a moment and then looks at you. “I don’t think I can be mad about this. I’m genuinely impressed.”

“I mean, I can’t argue with the results, but Jesus, Mobius, you could’ve just set us up on a blind date,” you say.

“Ah, but that’s not as fun,” Mobius says. “Plus, it wouldn’t have made for as good a wedding gift.” He turns the frame around and hands it to you both.

It’s both your timecards from that pay period, neatly framed side by side. Your eyes well with tears and Mobius smiles.

“Honestly, I’m just relieved it’s not a jet ski,” says Loki.

“He's deflecting,” you say to Mobius in an exaggerated whisper.

“I know,” he whispers back.

But you can’t help but notice that Loki’s eyes are brighter than normal.

“Okay, now get out of here,” says Mobius. “You’ve got a wedding to get to.”

Twenty minutes later, you’re wearing a simple white dress and standing with Loki in front of a time door, your hand clasped in his.

“Technically, we don’t have a supervisor’s approval for this,” you say with a wry smile.

He looks at you, eyes dancing with mirth. “I had Mobius sign off on the paperwork while you were getting ready.”

Your heart swells and your smile is so wide that you feel like your face might split in two. “Then hurry up and marry me, Laufeyson.”

He grins and tugs you through the time door.

-------

But wait! There's more: I don't have a masterlist for this, but if you enjoy these idiots, check out Daylight, a sort of sequel.

[pengweng-quack]

Bloodbound

Carlisle Cullen x Human!OC

Summary: Place Carlisle in the Edward situation of falling in love with a human, and see what happens

Chapter 5/?

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

Notes:

This is on Ao3 under the same title and username if you'd like to read it there (https://archiveofourown.org/works/54527830)

I was on vacation that's why posting was delayed in both here and Ao3 lol

Leave your thoughts (or don't, your choice) in the comments, I enjoy reading through your thoughts :)

Word Count: 2622 words

General warning: I used some religious references in this story so read with caution if you're not so keen into reading that

TW for this chapter: thoughts about insecurities

PM or Comment to be added on the taglist for this one!

Masterlist

“What do you mean?” Carlisle asked, threading carefully on what will happen next

“You’re not human.” Celine concluded with Carlisle not answering her question immediately “What are you?”

“My love…” Carlisle started, looking at her, but he was met with no kind of adoration in her eyes anymore “Yes, I am not human. But I do not intend on harming you.”

“I know.” Celine said, the glint of calmness was now back in her eyes “I just need to know what you are. For my peace of mind, I guess.”

“You’ll either laugh or get extremely concerned if I tell you what I actually am.” He whispered lowly, ashamed of himself

“A vampire?” Celine asked him again

“How did you know?” Carlisle asked almost immediately. He looked at Celine, realizing that she didn’t actually know and that it was just a rough guess that he confirmed.

“A vampire? In a hospital?” Celine asked her, her eyebrows furrowed at the irony of it. There were so many questions running in her mind

“I-I have to go.” Carlisle answered, standing up and picking up his clothes, quickly wearing his shirt and rushing out of her house to his car

‘She knows’ Carlisle was panicking as he drove off back to their house. Thoughts swirled chaotically in his mind, making it impossible for him to think straight. He hit his steering wheel in anger before driving back home in silence, his grip on the steering wheel painfully tight

“Celine knows.” Edward announced to everyone, carefully reading Carlisle’s thoughts

“What do you mean, ‘she knows’? We were careful with it.” Rosalie asked her

“We were careful, Carlisle probably wasn’t.” Edward continued in conclusion “I tried telling you that this was the same as with me and Bella before, but no one believed me.”

“Will we have to move?” Renesmee asked

“No, no. Carlisle will decide on that.” Bella assured her “Besides, we can’t move yet, you need to finish your high school.”

“Well, with what’s happening, we might have to.” Rosalie said, sitting down on one of their couches

“I’m sure Carlisle will have an explanation.” Esme said, trying to calm everyone down. She was just as nervous; would they really just leave Celine like that?

“She figured it out on her own.” Edward said, reading into her mind “She’s not mad. Actually, she’s driving to our place now, at an incredibly dangerous but legal speed. Celine wants to chat with Carlisle.”

“Carlisle left her?” Emmett asked “Weren’t they just having sex earlier?”

“Emmett!” Edward yelled, covering Renesmee’s ears as she laughs at their antics

“My question still stands. Weren’t they just doing something earlier?” Emmett said, chuckling as Renesmee lightly slaps Edward’s hand off her, wanting to listen to what was happening

“Yeah, she’s kind of annoyed about that. But she’s more annoyed that Carlisle just ran away.” Edward said, still reading into Celine’s mind

“Couldn’t even wait until she fell asleep.” Rosalie said, playfully rolling her eyes

“So, you’re warming up to her now?” Jasper asked, teasing her lightly

“I mean, you heard Alice.” Rosalie shrugged “One way or another, she’s gonna be a vampire. We only prevented that rogue vampire from doing it early on.”

“You just want her to not jump first into being one of us?” Bella asked her, knowing and understanding what Rosalie now meant when she was still human

“She’s smart, she would think of the consequences first.” Esme said, already having heard stories about Celine from Carlisle “Besides, Carlisle won’t push her into that.”

“Carlisle is—

“I fucked up.” Carlisle announced, rushing in the house. All of them yelled and closed their eyes, having just seen him in his boxers

“Carlisle, go wear something!” Esme scolded, getting Carlisle to rush up to his room and get dressed into something more casual

“He technically told Celine that we’re vampires.” Edward told everyone as he rushes down the stairs

“Did you even see her reaction?” Jasper asked, Carlisle only shook his head no

“Well now you will, because she’s outside the house.” Jasper said, opening the main door of their house, seeing Celine

“You didn’t tell me that your house was very cold.” Celine said as a greeting to everyone, shivering from the coldness

“Come, let’s talk in my office. Then I’ll introduce you to my family.” Carlisle said, walking to her and taking her hand, leading her to his office

“What now?” Celine asks, rubbing her hands together in an attempt to warm her down. Carlisle immediately grabbed the hanged coat in his office and placed it on her shoulder. The sight of her in his clothes warming him up a bit

“I don’t know.” Carlisle muttered lowly “What do you want now?”

“Well,” Celine said, sitting on the table of his office “I’m not scared that you’re a vampire, if you’re worried about that. And I don’t plan to make that this week’s hospital gossip too, if you’re somehow more worried about that.”

“Thank heavens.” Carlisle let out a big sigh

“Why?” Celine asked him “Is it like a vampire law to not let any non-vampires know about your existence?”

“Kind of, it’s tough to explain.” Carlisle answered, moving closer to her. He knows that he won’t do much help with her being cold, he just wanted to be near her

The silence between the two was comforting but nerve-wracking. Carlisle couldn’t figure out what was going on Celine’s mind 

‘Probably filled with calling me a monster’ a part of his mind said to him

“I think you owe me the truth.” Celine whispered softly, looking at him with a smile “The whole truth, no more of that weird ex-girlfriend stuff. Because you and I both know that that was a very shit lie.”

“Where do you want to start then?” Carlisle asked, walking and grabbing some chairs for her to sit on

“How old are you?” Celine immediately asked, sitting down on the chair that he offered to her

“You have to be a bit more specific than that, my love.” Carlisle chuckled softly, joining her in sitting down

“All of your ages then.” She told him. Her eyes had this twinkle of curiosity, wanting to know more about him

“Well, I was 23 or so when I was turned into a vampire.” He answered, as Celine furrowed her eyebrows, he took it as a sign to continue “It was the 1600’s, we didn’t have a really good date tracking date by then.”

“You’re roughly 300 years old.” Celine said, a shock on her face

“382 to be exact.” Carlisle revealed, getting him to shy away. 

‘Now it looks creepy’ he thought to himself, watching her reactions

“Wow, never thought I’d date that old.” Celine teased him, getting him to let out a sigh of relief

“To be fair, you are already four years older than me in a sense.” He tried to tease her, letting out a small laugh

“I’m four years older than you and 350 years younger than you at the same time. I wish I could say that the math isn’t mathing but it is.” She said, a smile resting on her face.

And Carlisle could only wish that he could freeze the moment between them, take a picture of them and engrave it in his mind, a memory that would remind him of their short-term happiness.

Because who would choose an eternity of being stuck the way you are?

“Esme is 127, Edward and Alice are 121, Rosalie and Emmett are 107, and Jasper is 178 but he’s the last to join us alongside Alice, minus Bella.” Carlisle continued introducing his family

“Bella? As in Bella Swan? As in the chief’s daughter?” Celine asked as ne nodded in response

“She’s with Edward, she’s 35.” Carlisle continued “And the youngest, Renesmee, she’s 16. Edward and Bella’s daughter.”

“So, humans and vampires can procreate too?” Celine asked lowly

“Yeah, but if you think that I’m only pursuing you for that, then you’ve got it all wrong.” He immediately assured her

“Then why pursue me?” Celine asked, looking at him, her eyes begging him for an answer

As Carlisle gazed at Celine, a profound sense of sorrow washed over him. The weight of her pain and self-doubt bore heavily upon his heart, stirring a deep well of empathy within him. He longed to ease her burden, to carry her suffering as his own. Carlisle realized that she always doubted herself underneath the confident aura, thinking that she was worth nothing if she couldn't bear a child.

“Because my heart belongs to you. I belong to you.” Carlisle answered as he stood up, his hands cupping her cheeks and leaving a peck on her forehead

Celine wiped the tears threatening off her face. Never has she felt so loved until now, until with Carlisle. He hugged her, thinking that the tears coming out of her were tears of sadness, of disappointment with herself.

“You’re so kind to me.” Celine mumbled, wrapping her arms around him

They stayed in that moment. Celine has never thought to feel this way so easily about a man, it’s like she was drawn to him. It was as though the universe had conspired to craft their love story, aligning the stars to guide them together.

He was made for her.

“Are you two good now?” A brown-haired woman asked, checking in the office. She was jaw-droppingly gorgeous, getting Celine to subtly feel inferior to her

‘Why did Carlisle not end up with her?’ She questioned to herself

“We are, Esme. Just needed to collect ourselves.” Carlisle answered to her, wiping off the tear stains before leaving small kisses on the apples of her cheek 

“Good, your kids are dying to meet her.” Esme said, a smile on her face.

She was gorgeous, her brown hair rested nicely on her shoulders, her eyes held the same golden shade that Carlisle had. Esme had this maternal aura around her, subtly informing Celine that the Cullens is in no need of a mother figure to fill in

‘Then what am I here for then?’ Celine questioned to herself, stopping her face from forming a frown

“Well, since you’re here.” Carlisle said, motioning Celine to come closer to him “My love, this is Esme. My sister.”

“Hi, I’m Celine!” Celine greeted her with a smile and a small wave. Carlisle instinctively placed his arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. Esme immediately liked her energy.

Celine was a fresh breath on a warm day, the one that feels like you’re being lifted by the wind itself.

“We’ve heard a lot about you.” Esme said, opening the door a bit wider for them to go out of “Come, I’m sure the kids would love to meet you.”

“Rosalie is kind of…iffy with you right now. But she’ll come around.” Carlisle warned as they walked out the room. There were seven looking adults, all looking and watching them as they come down the stairs

“Everyone,” Carlisle said as they get down the last step of the stairs “This is Celine.”

“Hi!” A girl with a pixie cut greeted. Celine couldn’t help but notice how she was towered by everyone else in the room “I’m Alice! I’ve seen this happen.”

“Alice, don’t—

“Oh, it’s alright.” Celine assured to the guy with brown hair, a face that was vaguely familiar to her “After finding out that vampires are real, what more is there to limit the imagination?”

“I’m Bella.” Bella introduced herself “Though I know you already know that, seeing as I remember seeing you grow up.”

‘At least there’s a familiar face’ she thought, letting out a small sigh of relief

“You make it weird saying it like that.” Another guy with brown hair teased Bella. He was really buff, getting Celine to be intimidated “Emmett by the way. This is my wife, Rosalie.”

The woman that Emmett pointed at, Rosalie, only looked at her. A face that Celine can’t seem to figure out what it was saying to her. Rosalie was drop dead gorgeous, any insecurity that she felt earlier to Esme was now tripled in Rosalie’s presence. Her gold hair, which was tied up in a ponytail right now, shone golden.

‘I don’t belong here’ her mind cruelly told her

“Babe, don’t do this now, please?” Emmett said to his wife, rubbing her shoulders to try and calm her down

“It’s fine. Must be unusual having a human be over casually.” Celine assured them again.

‘Who am I to complain about their behavior?’ she thought to herself

“I’m Edward, Bella’s husband.” Edward, the guy that tried to stop Alice earlier, introduced himself “And this is our daughter Renesmee.”

Renesmee waved her hand at Celine cheerfully. Whatever kind of nervousness she got from Rosalie was relieved with Renesmee. She was a walking sunshine.

“I’m Jasper.” A blond guy, Jasper, said with a small wave. He shared the same hair color as Rosalie did, though his was just above his collar “Pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Pleasure to meet you too.” Celine said to everyone

Celine felt awkward with everyone’s eyes on her, getting a feeling that she wouldn’t fit in their perfectly made illusion of a family. It was making Celine feel pity for herself.

“Carlisle, have you told her?” Edward asked quietly

“Tell me what?” She asked instead of Carlisle

“My kids…” Carlisle started slowly “Some of them have special gifts. Edward can telepathically read minds, Alice can see into the future, Jasper can control emotions, Bella can block Edward’s telepathy and basically anything that is of the using of mind, and Renesmee can transmit thoughts to others.”

“So—

“I didn’t intend to, but it was practically just yelling.” Edward confirmed her suspicion, getting Celine to push her lips in a thin line and just nod in response

“I do not plan into turning you into a vampire—

“Thank you.” Celine said, looking at Carlisle “I’d love to do some thinking first before making a final decision.”

“What?” Bella asked, her eyes widened at Celine

“It won’t be an easy transition for me.” Celine answered, looking at Bella “It may have worked out for you, but it wouldn’t immediately work out for me.”

“I would understand if you also would want to go back to how we were.” She continued, now turning her attention to Carlisle “Seeing as I’m technically rejecting you now.”

“Oh no, I don’t see that as a rejection.” Carlisle said, shaking his head no to her “Even if for a short while, I would love to be given a chance to pursue you. To make you feel loved and appreciated.”

‘It will be more than enough for me to carry for eternity’ Carlisle wanted to add. He looked at Edward and slightly shook his head no, asking him to not say what his thoughts wanted to

“Are you sure?” Celine asked him again

“Of course.” Carlisle answered almost immediately, a comforting smile on his face

“Then, I think a second date should be in the talks soon.” Celine said, kissing Carlisle’s cheek before walking to the front door

“It’s been an honor to meet you all.” She said, looking around the family that was watching her “I would assume that it won’t be the last time we’ll see each other.”

Celine walked out and closed the door behind her. The family was listening intently for her car to leave before even thinking of saying their thoughts out loud

“…I think that went well.” Esme said, her hand clasped together and her lips pushed in a thin line “It didn’t, that was shit.” Rosalie said, shaking her head no at Esme “At least she wasn’t jumping headfirst into being a vampire.”

[pengweng-quack]

Bloodbound

Carlisle Cullen x Human!OC

Summary: Place Carlisle in the Edward situation of falling in love with a human, and see what happens

Chapter 4/?

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Notes:

This is on Ao3 under the same title and username if you'd like to read it there (https://archiveofourown.org/works/54527830)

I genuinely forgot about posting Bloodbound for a hot minute lol whoops

Word Count: 2128 words

General warning: I used some religious references in this story so read with caution if you're not so keen into reading that

TW for this chapter: Smut (No penetration because we're not having another Bella situation)

PM or Comment to be added on the taglist for this one!

Masterlist

They walked back to the bar, with Carlisle closing the tab for the night and paying for the drinks, tipping 50% which made Celine bite her lip in excitement. After getting his card back, they rushed out of the building hand in hand. Carlisle noticed that Rosalie’s car was outside, a silent reminder of the watchful eyes of their family. He took Celine to his car, opening the passenger seat door and letting her enter the car

“I’ll be fast, I promise.” Carlisle whispered to Celine, who only nodded in response. He left a quick peck on her lips before rushing to Rosalie’s car. He knocked on the window, wondering why they were there

“Do not even think of doing something with her tonight.” Rosalie threatened immediately as the window was going down “You’ll hurt her.”

“I do not intend on bedding her while she has alcohol in her system.” He half-lied, knowing that the alcohol in Celine’s system is already almost gone. He could smell her blood slowly going back to its same alluring scent, hinting that she was slowly sobering up

“The rogue vampire is gone.” Alice informed him “Just don’t mind the scent in her place for the time being. It’s…sickening.”

“I’ll remember that.” Carlisle nodded “Are the others gone now?”

“Yes. I told them to leave after they’ve remove the vampire in her place.” Esme answered “Good luck, I think you’ll need it.”

“Go home.” Carlisle said, rolling his eyes at them and going back to his car, where Celine was waiting patiently

“What happened?” Celine asked, the scent of alcohol was still evident in her and Carlisle is having a hard time with just sitting still

“They decided to come to enjoy the night out, thankfully, we’re about to leave too.” He informed her, pulling the seatbelt from her side and buckling it, his eyes on her. He was looking at her face, admiring the features the gods have graced her with

“Is there anything on my face?” Celine asked consciously, about to look at herself in the vanity mirror in his car

“No, you’re just really, really beautiful.” Carlisle whispered softly before starting his car. A smile on his face as he drives back to her place

It was quiet, Carlisle was reaching for the gearshift when he accidentally touched Celine’s thighs. He heard her jolt up in shock making him quickly pull away from the gearshift, scared that he’s made her uncomfortable.

“It’s alright, I was just shocked.” Celine assured him

Her house was coming in sight. Alice wasn’t lying when she said that the scent was sickening. Carlisle couldn't ignore the scent that permeated the air. It was a nauseating mixture of alcohol, human blood, and the unmistakable stench of vomit. He’s happy that Celine couldn’t smell it, he’d rather save her of dealing with scents like these

Rosalie’s voice was echoing in her head “Do not even think of doing something with her tonight.” He could hear her threats. Carlisle understood that she meant well, and that she was right in this discussion. The memory of Edward's unintentional harm to Bella served as a stark reminder of the dangers inherent in their world.

‘What assurance did I have that I won’t do the same with Celine? What assurance did I have that I’ll be able to control myself?’ He thought, scared of seeing Celine hurt because of him

As Carlisle parked the car in front of Celine's house, a sense of resolve settled within him. He knew what needed to be done. With purposeful strides, he swiftly exited the car and made his way to the passenger seat, where Celine was just about to step out.

She grabbed his hand, pulling him into her house. Without hesitation, he allowed himself to be led, his steps quickening as they made their way into her bedroom. Carlisle lifted her up in his arms, cradling her bridal style as he carried her to the bed. Reaching her bed, Carlisle made him and Celine fall on the bed, a small ‘thud’ and a bounce getting them to giggle.

Celine positioned herself on his lap, pulling him closer for a kiss. It was deep, it was heavy, it was filled with desire. Her desire to feel him. She could feel him get harder, so she started slowly grinding. Carlisle pulled away, letting out a grunt before pulling her for another make out, only this time, his hands were exploring the curves of her body.

She took matters into her own hands, slowly removing his polo shirt, leaving a trail of kisses along his neck as she unbuckled his pants to lift the shirt over his head. Carlisle whimpered under her affectionate touch, his desire evident in every breath. With each kiss, Celine felt herself growing increasingly aroused. She pulled away, finally removing his top

“Need to please you.” Carlisle murmured as Celine’s hands were tracing down his torso, her eyes filled with seduction as he admires him. He wished that he had Edward’s powers at that moment to know what she was thinking about

‘What a masterpiece.’ Celine thought, seeing Carlisle's toned body. Her suspicion was right, he did take care of his physique, and she was blessed to see him like that

Carlisle gently laid Celine down and positioned himself over her, his hands delicately tracing the curves of her waist as he crawled onto the bed. With deliberate care, he began to play with the hem of her blouse, gradually removing it to grant himself greater access to her skin.

“You are divine. A masterpiece carved by the gods above.” Carlisle whispered, indulging himself as he left shallow bite marks on Celine's shoulders, his words an ode to her beauty. Each mark elicited soft whimpers of pleasure from her lips, igniting a symphony of desire between them

Carlisle tenderly explored Celine's shoulders and neck, marking her skin with gentle kisses that elicited moans of pleasure. With deliberate care, he trailed his fingers down to her legs, lifting her skirt and removing the barrier of her panties, eager to continue bestowing pleasure upon his beloved mate.

"Carlisle," Celine moaned softly, her plea laced with desire. "No teasing.”

"I have no intention of teasing you, my love," Carlisle assured, his fingers deftly caressing the growing wetness between Celine's thighs "I simply wish to savor every moment with you."

"Carlisle, please," Celine breathed out, her voice filled with urgency. Carlisle chuckled at her reaction; he hadn't even begun, yet Celine was already pleading

Carlisle gently slid two fingers inside her, giving Celine a moment to adjust to the sensation. She moaned, arching her back in response. Sensing her readiness and just how needy she already is, he abandoned his slow pace, opting instead to quicken the rhythm of his fingers thrusting in and out of her. Simultaneously, he brought his mouth to her clit, skillfully heightening her pleasure with each tantalizing touch.

"Carlisle," Celine breathed out, her racing heartbeat audible to him, indicating her nearing climax.

"Yes, my love?" Carlisle responded, withdrawing from her clit, a trail of saliva lingering as he used his other hand to heighten her pleasure.

"So close." She managed to mutter amidst deep pants.

"I'm aware." He replied calmly, maintaining the rhythm of his hands on her.

It didn’t take long for Celine to cry out his name, her back arching in pleasure as Carlisle continued the steady rhythm of his fingers on her. He even returned to her clit, using his mouth to stimulate her sensitive, freshly-orgasmed pussy

"C-Carlisle!" Celine squealed, grasping a handful of his hair as she grinded her pussy against his face. Carlisle welcomed her enthusiasm, releasing his hands from her and encircling her thighs, ensuring she remained in place.

Carlisle decided that he was gonna force a few more orgasm out of her before calling it a day, a perfect alibi in his mind already. He didn't need his vampiric senses to discern that she was nearing climax once more. Celine's fervent whimpers of his name resonated through the air like sacred incantations as her back arched in pleasure, instinctively tightening her hold on his hair, her fingers gripping the strands with increasing fervor

"Carlisle, I'm cumming!" Celine yelled, instinctively thrusting her hips. Carlisle gently pushed her back down, determined to ride out her orgasm before withdrawing from her.

“Think you can handle a bit more?” Carlisle teased, a smirk playing on his lips as he slid his two fingers back inside her. He watched with satisfaction as Celine's eyes rolled back in pleasure, soft whimpers escaping her lips.

“Oh my god,” Celine breathed out, her pleas for more barely audible amidst the moans

He was growing more addicted to her.

Carlisle chuckled and increased his pace, driven by the desire to get another orgasm from her. He placed his other hand on her clit, rubbing his fingers around to stimulate her more.

He was addicted to her every whimpers and her every moan, wanting to do everything in him to push more out of her

"I can't quite hear you, could you say it louder for me, my love?" Carlisle teased, curling his fingers inside her, eliciting a louder moan from Celine.

“I’m getting close.” Celine stuttered out, her chest heaving with each pant

“How close?” Carlisle only asked, making sure to settle his pace on one that could get Celine on her orgasm

“So close, please.” Celine whimpered, her hands gripping the bedsheets tightly

"Do you think you can hold on until I give you permission?" Carlisle asked softly, his other hand resting on her waist, his thumb tracing circles on her skin

“So close— can’t anym-m—

Celine's sentence was cut off as she succumbed to another orgasm, her pussy pulsating around Carlisle's fingers. He maintained his pace until Celine rested her hand on his, gently pushing his hands away, signaling that she had reached her limit.

“How was it, my love?” Carlisle asked her, pulling his fingers out looking at her flushed face. She was panting, and anyone would clearly be able to see just how used she had been

‘To think that it’s just been three orgasms’ Carlisle thought to himself, chuckling as Celine catches her breath

“How about you?” Celine asked, sitting up and gazing at him with concern “This was for the both of us, not just me.”

“Do not worry about me. All I want is for today to be about you.” Carlisle assured her, moving to sit beside Celine and gently pushing the strands of hair that had become damp with sweat away from her “Your pleasure is my pleasure.”

“Stay the night?” Celine asked, looking at him with hopeful eyes

He kissed her forehead tenderly in response, getting up from her bed and going to what he assumed was her closet. He grabbed some clothes for her to wear and brought it back to the bed. He grabbed a clean cloth and went to her bathroom, wetting the cloth and wringing it for it to be damp. Coming back to her, she was about to grab the shirt to wear when he stopped her

“Let me take care of you.” Carlisle whispered softly, his voice filled with tenderness “Please.”

Celine only nodded, allowing Carlisle to make her wear the shirt that he’s gotten for her. He soon followed to carefully pull down her skirt and panties, wiping the dried wetness in between her legs and inner thighs before helping her wear some house shorts.

Observing how Celine was now ready for bed, Carlisle hesitated momentarily before removing his own pants, leaving him in just his boxers. As he settled beside her, he initially felt uncertain, but eventually relaxed, allowing Celine to rest her head on his chest.

“Carlisle?” Celine called quietly, Carlisle let out a hum as response, focusing on matching her breathing “Will things have to come back to how it was after today?”

“My love, if you wish to come back to how we were before today, then we will.” Carlisle answered, looking at her “I just wish to make you happy, that’s all.”

Celine only hummed in reply. She wrapped her arms around her torso, trying to hear his heartbeat to help her fall asleep. Unable to find the familiar rhythm, her mind began to churn with thoughts of the unmistakable signs that hinted at Carlisle's non-human nature. Each revelation felt like a sudden realization, hitting her like a brick to the face.

The cold skin…

The golden eyes…

The non-existent heartbeat…

“Carlisle?” Celine asked again, sitting up and looking at him intently. It was most definitely gonna be her end, but she needed to ask it to him

“Yes, my love?” Carlisle asked, sitting up as well

“You’re not human, are you?”

[pengweng-quack]

Finally back, and here's chapter 5 🥳

[pengweng-quack]

You're Too Sweet

Teacher!Suguru Geto × Reader (uses second person)

Summary: Geto seems to be finding the sweetness in life because of you

Notes:

This was from Hozier's You're Too Sweet (at least my interpretation of it)

Word Count: 320 words

Masterlist

Straight As, perfect attendance, actually knowledgeable in the course that you chose.

You embodied the epitome of academic excellence, a standard that Suguru had always admired and strived for in his own pursuits.

And when you agreed to be his teaching assistant, he was suddenly met with how you actually were when not in class anymore.

You were kind, you were polite, you were sweet.

So sweet that he found himself giving up his neat whiskey for a glass of sangria with you

So sweet that he found himself ordering two sweet flavored coffee for the two of you instead of his typical black coffee

So sweet were the days when you would lose yourself in discussion and the hours would pass by like sand through an hourglass.

So sweet were the soft touches and sly looks that said a thousand words without even having to say anything.

So sweet that hope began to bloom, a glimmering light in the shadow of uncertainties within Suguru's heart.

So sweet that he wished he wasn't too bitter so that he'll be able to reciprocate your sweetness.

So sweet that was your intentions, so pure that was your love, yet Suguru feared he was too broken to be worthy of such sweetness.

That's why he had to push you away.

You were so sweet, too sweet, for a heart hardened by the trials of life's bitter taste like he had.

And as he watched you walk away, Suguru couldn't help but hope for a future where he could finally reciprocate your sweetness.

Perhaps one day, when he had overcome his own bitterness and found solace within himself, he would be ready to embrace the warmth you offered so freely.

But for now, he could only watch from afar, admiring your sweetness from a distance, knowing that you deserved so much more than he could ever give.

Because you're just too sweet for him.

[pengweng-quack]

I still can't believe that it's super canon that Edward asked, like why did we need to know that?

Okay, this sounds like a shit post, but I genuinely need to know: Do think that on that night when Bella and Edward got it on for the first time... did... did Edward know where the cl1t was? or even what it was? Like, this eternal 17-year-old virgin from the 1900s couldn't possibly know, could he? Did Carlisle tell him? Did they have the talk? Or did Edward just show up to Isle Esme like "Let's have The Sex, now." With absolutely no idea what he was doing?

Well.

Canonically, Edward tells Bella that he talked to every man in his family, father and brothers, on how to have sex with a woman/what sex is like.

So, presumably, one of them told him how to find the clitoris.

[pengweng-quack]

THE JJK REFERENCE ?!?!?!?!??!?!

did anyone ever see willy wonka as a person? I mean, apart from him being THE candy maker, did anyone ever look at him as a human? he's strong because I wouldn't open my factory again after being betrayed like that. or is it because no one really looks at him as a human so he became again the very thing people thought of him, ‘a chocolatier’? do you understand what I mean? no you dont.

“are you willy wonka because you're the best chocolatier or are you the best chocolatier because you're willy wonka?”

[pengweng-quack]

So, if I like, post a willy wonka (2005) x reader, would anyone be interested in reading it? Given that I actually write one

I recently watched charlie and the chocolate factory