I'd really love a oneshot about Carlisle struggling with a mild case of jealousy. Like his SO talks to someone else, and is all nice and smiley because that's the person they are and Carlisle KNOWS that and he really does know better BUT DOES THIS GUY REALLY NEED TO STAND SO CLOSE TO THEM?
There were few things that Carlisle prided himself on. There was his self control, of course, as well as his ability to easily connect with people. It was a quiet sort of dignity, internalized and never boasted about, because that’s just how Carlisle was, wasn’t he? Humble. Vanity certainly didn’t suit him. But there was one thing in particular, something that only Carlisle was capable of, that would occasionally go to his head.
It was you, or more specifically your eyes, and the way they came to life when he was with you. The way they widened in his presence, the way your pupils dilated the longer he engaged you, the way they focused in on him like he was the most captivating thing they ever saw. And there was always this animate twinkle in those beautiful, dark irises, a subtle glistening that Carlisle knew was for him and only him, akin to a shooting star streaking the black sky—striking and uplifting.
And when Carlisle saw that twinkle—his twinkle—shimmering vibrantly in your eyes while in the presence of another man, something wildly unpleasant tore open in his chest, clawing up his throat and threatening to burst through his clenched jaw. Suddenly the air in the room was thicker, more suffocating, and Carlisle swore he could feel perspiration prickling on his hairline when the man leaned in closer towards you with an easy grin.
It was a blow to the gut when you smiled back, when the stranger continued to bask in your glowing gaze. And Carlisle knew you were just being nice, he knew better than to let something so juvenile gnaw at him like this, but did this guy seriously just take another step closer to you?
A red fog creeped in through his peripheral vision, and a deep, guttural growl resonated in his chest, like a low rumble of thunder reverberating from the earthy floor and shuddering the branches of a tree. His upper lip twitched threateningly, and Carlisle had to resist the overwhelming urge to bare his teeth. He may be falling apart on the inside, but he was not about to lose his hold on his self control too.
Your name scratched its way up his raw throat, the strained sound begging your eyes to flicker over to where Carlisle was standing off with rigid shoulders. He tried a smile, tightlipped but still sincere, and you smiled softly in response. He heard you mutter a brief ‘excuse me’ before you started walking over to him, the smile on your face never faltering as your scent grew stronger and stronger with each step you made.
If someone asked Carlisle why he did what he did next, he would say that he truthfully didn’t know. Maybe it was the harrowing jealousy banging its fists against his ribcage. Maybe it was your intoxicating, delectable aroma clouding his judgement. Maybe it was that damned twinkle that was dancing in your eyes as you approached him. Maybe it was all three together.
The exact second you were at arms length from him, Carlisle’s fingers hooked into the belt loops of your jeans and yanked you forward, chests and mouths roughly colliding. Another growl vibrated between your bodies as his lips greedily attacked yours, his tongue dominating, claiming, while unusually forceful fingers and sturdy palms encircled your neck to better control the kiss. His teeth stung as they sunk into your bottom lip, and he swallowed your gasp with a wide, hungry mouth.
Carlisle ended the kiss abruptly, parting from your lips with a wet, salacious smack, the hands on your neck sliding up to frame your face and hold your head steady. He dragged the pad of his thumb possessively over your spit-slicked lips, and as he took in your hooded eyelids and rosy cheeks, he discovered another thing he could pride himself on; he was the only person who got to see you like this—so undone and wanton.
You swallowed, taking a steadying breath in before self-consciously narrowing your eyes. “People are staring, Carlisle.”
An uncharacteristically wicked smirk pulled at his lips, and he let his gaze cast over your shoulder to the now appalled man, a triumphant swell in his chest urging his smirk into a wide grin. “Good.”
He looked down at you again, pressing another brief kiss to your lips before finally letting his hands fall from your face, a warmth spreading from his chest, traveling up his neck when your eyes twinkled happily—his twinkle.