Previously an entry for the 2020 Thirst Contest and winner of two awards: Validator Pick for Iambeagle and The Howler Award (Favorite Funny Vamp). Thank you to LunaSova85 for being my bestest beta! Love you, babe.
Edward Cullen's Guide on How to Survive a Vampirism Curse
It starts like this:
Emmett McCarty is an obnoxious, jock-headed frat boy who also, unfortunately, happens to be Edward's cousin - by marriage, Edward will emphasize to anyone who bothers to ask. If Edward was related to Emmett by blood, then he thinks he might actually die. The single upside of having Emmett as a cousin is that, now that they're in college, Emmett's dude-bro ways are finally paying off. And by that, Edward means that his cousin's himbo status as a proud Phi-Beta-Dickhead has scored Edward an exclusive invitation to a Halloween party on Greek row. Edward isn't stupid, which means he fully intends to take advantage of this invitation, mostly for the free booze.
The only downside of the party is the fact that it's very explicitly a costume Halloween party, which means Edward has to drag his sorry ass to whatever costume store is still open when he's finally done with his shift at the convenience store. He's not going to lie - his options are pretty slim. With the choice between the moth-eaten second-hand store and the creepy thrift store halfway across town, Edward opts for the thrift store. He figures it'll be cheaper, for one thing, and for another, the creepy thrift store is creepy year-round, which should surely mean there are more readily-available costumes to choose from. The less effort he has to spend on this, the better.
The thrift store is the exact kind that screams of bad-vibes with its flickering lights and cobweb encrusted storefront windows, and if Edward had seen it in a horror movie, he would have mocked the protagonists for going inside. But this isn't a movie, and Edward is tired, and even if the dust inside fucks up his sinuses, it takes all of five minutes for him to locate the lowest-effort costume available.
Edward palms the slick, cold-to-the-touch, surprisingly real-looking set of fake vampire teeth and grins to himself. This is the perfect costume. He'll just pop them in, wear all of the black clothes in his closet, and call it a day. He'll be, like, a modern-day vampire, complete with sleep deprivation and student loan debt.
Behind the counter is a grizzled person of indeterminate gender, lanky white hair hanging in their face and a wart the size of a small country decorating their nose. They cluck their tongue at the vampire teeth and look at Edward with cloudy grey eyes.
"Are you sure you want these?" they ask.
"Um, yeah?" Edward digs out his wallet, which is sadly threadbare these days.
The shopkeeper starts to say something, but the dust in the store finally gets to him, and Edward lets out a series of loud, bone-rattling sneezes, so he doesn't really hear whatever it is they're saying. Ah, whatever. It probably doesn't matter, anyway.
Edward sniffles and wipes his nose. The shopkeeper is looking at him, clearly expecting some kind of response. He offers his most charming smile. "So, what do I owe you?"
If the shopkeeper sighs in resignation and seems reluctant to give Edward a price, he assumes it's because his Colgate smile - hard-won from years of braces - has made them want to lower the original price. After all, twenty bucks for vampire teeth of this quality seems like a steal to him. He pockets his costume prop, gives a jaunty wave as he leaves, and gets the fuck out of dodge. He goes back to his shoebox-sized apartment, slurps down a cup of chicken Ramen, and crashes for the next twelve hours until his class.
Edward mostly forgets about the vampire teeth and the moderate weirdness of the shopkeeper until Saturday night rolls around and he's having to fit the teeth into his mouth. They really are good quality, none of that rubber shit that kids use. If anything, they feel like real teeth, and he might have thought they were if not for the hollow insides that allow him to slide them neatly onto his own teeth. After he puts the vampire teeth on, they kind of suction to his gums with a secure fit. He snaps his teeth in his dimly-lit bathroom, satisfied with how his disheveled hair looks with his all-black outfit. He looks like a vampire, or near enough that nobody should bitch at him about not keeping with the spirit of the party. A costume is a costume, right?
By the time Edward gets to the party, half of the Greek row is prowling the neighborhood in varying states of undress. Edward, with great appreciation, sees a lot of slutty-this-or-that costumes - very nice. He lets himself into his cousin's fraternity house, which has an open-door policy for the night, and thinks he can hear Emmett shouting for someone to chug chug chug in the kitchen, which wouldn't be remotely surprising.
The music is thumping through someone's idea of a good playlist, which is mostly remixes of the Top 100 playlist set to an EDM beat. It's not the worst music he's ever heard, but it's pretty close. He thinks he can be a little judgemental, considering the fact that he's a music major. Edward knows shit music when he hears it, and this is shit music. However, the open bar lined up in the hallway is enough incentive for him to ignore the playlist.
He only just finishes pouring his drink, a classy rum-and-Coke, when he notices he is not alone. Standing at his elbow is Bella Swan, who is scanning the liquor offerings with a mixture of intrigue and vague distaste. He startles at her nearness so much that he almost drops his drink.
"Bella!"
She turns, blinking up at him with dark, languid eyes. "Oh, it's you," she says.
"Yeah, it's me. Here. I'm here and so are you," he says hastily.
Of all the places he would have never expected to see Bella Swan, it's here, at a frat party. He's not only shocked because this doesn't really seem to be her scene - he's shocked because, while he can prepare himself to see her on campus because they seem to take a lot of the same classes, and prepare to see her at the convenience store since they live in the same slightly run-down off-campus neighborhood, he really never thought he would see Bella at a party.
Especially not a human party.
The thing is, Bella may look like a human, but she's not. Or, well, she is, but she's also more than human. She's a witch. Not like a Wiccan, but like an actual, can-cast-magic, honest-to-fucking-God witch. She's actually one of the few witches on campus, mostly because other witches tend to hold themselves apart from human society and go to witch-only schools. It's not like there's any segregation, not since all the Salem shit back in the day, but it's more like witches just generally don't want to fuck with humans, like humans are largely kind of annoying to them.
Bella Swan, however, has made the rare choice to go to a human college, and she lives in a mostly-human neighborhood, and she doesn't seem overall too bothered by humans, not the way other witches are. Sure, she has a tendency to stare at Edward like he's a fascinating, and very stupid, pet, but with how often he loses his chill around her, he kind of deserves it. Plus, the dim sense of her disdain is actually kind of hot.
Even hotter is the black velvet, body-hugging minidress thing she's wearing, and the tiny witch's hat - surely authentic - perched on her head. She's done something to her eyes to make them look huge and dark and liquid, and the deep red of her lipstick, so dark it's almost purple, makes her skin glow like the moon, or something.
Edward nearly swallows his tongue when he realizes that she's giving him a once-over, too. "What are you supposed to be?" she asks.
He pulls his lips away from his teeth. "Vampire," he manages. "And you…?"
She lifts an eyebrow. "A witch, obviously."
"Is it really a costume if that's who you are every day?"
Bella lets out a short laugh. "You tell me," she says cryptically. She tilts her head at him, then nods to herself. "This is a good look for you."
Edward stammers out his thanks, and Bella laughs again, utterly fucking enchanting, before she departs. He doesn't even realize she'd taken his drink until he lifts his empty hand. It's rude as shit and so sly, but he finds that he doesn't really care. He just pours himself another and floats on the high of his short conversation with her for the rest of the party.
The night is kind of a blur, but he must manage to drag himself home eventually because he wakes up the next morning with breath that tastes like ass and an empty bottle of Smirnoff tucked beneath his pillow.
Edward stumbles through his apartment, jams his toe on his bathroom door, and empties his bladder. After washing his hands and splashing his face with water, he grabs the mouthwash and does a cursory swish. He spits and wipes out his mouth, then makes a grimace in the mirror when his head spins from those small movements. Fucking hangovers are the worst.
Still squinting his eyes against the straining brightness of the bathroom lights, he thinks he sees something a little off about his reflection. He leans forward, examining himself from every angle. He needs a shave and his teeth look a little straighter and whiter than normal, but he chalks that up to his new toothpaste finally showing results.
He completely forgets about the vampire teeth. He probably left them at the party, and if he did, who cares? They served their purpose. He doesn't think about it again.
That turns out to be a mistake, not that he'll realize it for several weeks.
At first, everything is normal. Well, mostly normal. He's a college student and working a part-time job to pay for his textbooks, so he's perpetually strung-out from too many nights of not enough sleep. He has his midterms coming up, which means he needs to prepare an original melody for one of his classes, and that honestly keeps him swamped for the next two weeks as he fine-tunes his composition. Between work and school and trying not to stare too obviously at Bella Swan anytime she comes into the convenience store to pick up a truly astonishing amount of junk food, Edward doesn't really have time to notice if anything is, like, going on with his health.
But then one day, he splurges on garlic bread with his sad Little Caesars meal and spends the next half-hour retching into the sink. It's fucking awful, of course, but the worst part is that he has to throw out the food. Something is obviously wrong with it. He does get a discount on his next order, though, so that's a plus.
He writes that off as a weird one-time event, and if he's a bit leery of garlic-laden foods after that, absolutely nobody could blame him for it.
Except for Jasper, his best friend, who naturally gives him all kinds of shit for it. A few weeks after Halloween, Jasper takes notice of Edward's new garlic aversion and takes great relish in eating as much garlic as he can in front of Edward.
"You're such a dick," Edward tells him, watching Jasper navigate the stairs of his apartment complex while also shoveling down a garlic bagel.
Jasper gives him a thumbs up. Edward would roll his eyes and bounce any other day, but Jasper has a bootleg release of a movie that isn't going to hit theaters for another month, and Edward is fully willing to suffer the garlic breath to be able to watch it. He dutifully follows Jasper all the way to his apartment, but when Jasper opens the door, he finds himself unable to take another step.
Which is weird as hell.
Jasper looks back at him, obviously waiting. "Dude?"
Edward stares and tries to sort through this hang-up. He feels like he should ask permission before, like, entering Jasper's place.
"I feel like I should ask permission," he says, kind of helplessly.
"For what?" Jasper asks blankly. He takes another bite of the bagel.
"To come into your house," Edward answers with a shrug, trying not to flinch at the waft of garlic coming his way.
Jasper snorts so violently he almost chokes on his food. "You haven't asked for permission since, like, ever," he points out. "Two weeks ago you barged into the apartment, called me fucknugget, and woke up my visiting parents. I move the spare key once a month and you still find it. I'm not sure you even know how to use a doorbell. Or knock."
"Yeah," Edward agrees because it's all true. "But still. Like, maybe I'm trying to change. Be a better person or whatever."
"Did you hit your head?" Jasper asks, not sounding the least bit genuinely concerned.
"Fuck you," Edward says, a little offended.
Jasper shoves at his shoulder. "Fuck you back!"
Edward shoves him back because that's fair, and then says, "Anyway. So, like, can I come inside?"
"Yeah, whatever," Jasper says flippantly.
He feels like laughing and calling Jasper a fool, an urge that he can't quite resist. So, Edward laughs and says, "You fool."
Jasper gives him a weird look. "The fuck was that laugh?"
Edward shrugs. He doesn't know himself. The urge just came out of nowhere and the laugh itself was like, Mitch McConnell levels of straight-up evil, but laughs are like that sometimes. He steps past Jasper, feeling kind of gleeful as he enters the apartment, cackling quietly to himself.
"Weirdo," Jasper says behind his back, shutting the door.
Jasper isn't wrong. Edward has, admittedly, been kind of weird, lately. Really tired and thirsty just, like, all the time. He can't seem to drink enough water, and honestly, he's getting sick of peeing all the time. But the thirst doesn't go away, and staying up during the day is also, in a word, difficult.
It gets worse. Like, just by themselves, they're little things, little annoyances that most people overlook. Sure, the sun is a little brighter; Edward just starts wearing sunglasses indoors and ignores the titters this brings about. And, okay, he hasn't been super hungry lately, but that could just be stress, right? College is stressful. Life is stressful. Not everybody wants to eat all the time.
But then he can't fall asleep at night, which really sucks because he has to stay up during the day for classes, and all this really means is that he's awake, just, all the time. And then when he does get a hunger pang, it's not a craving for a Big Mac - he wants steak, just this side of blue, and because he can't afford that he just buys a pound of ground beef, barely waits for it to cook, and then scarfs it down with tomato sauce because contrary to popular belief, Edward does have some culture about him.
Maybe - maybe - he could have overlooked all of that. He's in his twenties and things are weird. It happens.
But then - but then - he wakes up one morning toward the end of November and he legitimately can't see his reflection.
Mirrors don't break. Okay, well, they do, but not like this. He's standing in front of his bathroom sink and the mirror is clearly showing his limp shower curtain, but it isn't showing him. The mirror isn't showing his reflection.
"What the fuck?" he wonders, half-horrified.
He reaches forward, intent on touching the mirror to see if maybe Jasper or Emmett have played some prank on him - maybe it's, like, a picture instead of his mirror? - but then his phone rings in his bedroom, and Edward startles so badly that he jumps and bites his lip.
"Shit," he says, wiping at his lip, and then cursing again when his hand comes away with blood. He wipes at his lip again, but his knuckles bump against something - sharp. Something that isn't supposed to be there.
It isn't exactly dignified, but Edward reaches into his own mouth, lamenting the lack of a working mirror to make it easier, feeling around the edges of his teeth that don't feel quite as flat as they normally do. On either side of his foremost teeth, there are two protruding shapes, about an inch long, and they certainly feel like his actual teeth, but that can't be true. Edward isn't part fucking walrus and he's never had teeth like this before. He tugs on them, but they refuse to move.
He feels faint, just for a moment. Edward isn't a total idiot - he did get into college on his own merits, thanks - and even if he can be a little slow sometimes, it doesn't take a genius to put together what's happening here. Missing vampire teeth followed by three weeks of symptoms that, in retrospect, seem more or less vampiric.
Holy shit.
"Holy shit," he whispers, now totally horrified. "I'm turning into a fucking vampire!"
His apartment is empty, so nobody hears him. It's a little disappointing, considering that's the kind of declaration that should be met with equal parts awe and fear, but maybe it's better he doesn't have an audience for this.
Yeah, nobody needs to know about this. He'll just...figure it out. Somehow.
His phone rings again and he sighs, marching out of the bathroom, going straight to his room to unlock his phone and answer the call. "Yeah, what is it?"
"Geez, you're grumpy today," his sister says on the other end of the line. "Get up on the wrong side of the bed?"
More like the wrong side of the coffin, thinks Edward, poking at his...fangs with his tongue.
"Why're you calling, Alice?"
"Oh, right. Look, Mom and Dad want to visit this weekend and they're dragging me along. I'm calling to tell you that Mom is going to want more than whatever sad college food it is you're eating and that you should repay me, your gracious sister, for this heads up by sending me money. Twenty bucks, on Venmo, right now."
His parents are coming this weekend? Shit. Shit! His parents can't come over in, what, two days? Edward has fucking fangs! And other worrying symptoms! Is there a way to get out of this? No, probably not. His mother wears the pants in the family and she has absolutely zero concept of boundaries. If he tells her not to come this weekend, she's going to think he's being suspicious and come anyway just to make sure he's okay. And he's not okay. He's very fucking much not okay right now - and if his mom sees him like this, he's going to end up in some institution being studied by the government and - no. Just no.
Alice is still chattering away, but Edward isn't really listening. "I'll have to call you back later, Ali," he says.
"Wait! What about my money-"
Edward hangs up, then scrubs his hands over his face. He has to do something. And he has to do it before his parents come this weekend. That's two days. He can work with two days, right?
Turns out, no he fucking can't. Edward wastes the entire first day on sketchy internet sites trying to figure out what the hell happened to him - and how - and when that doesn't turn anything up, he hauls his ass to that spooky thrift store he bought the vampire teeth from. He doesn't know what he's planning to do when he gets there. Pull a Karen and demand a refund? He doesn't get to find out, either, because when he gets to the thrift store, it's gone. Not just, like, vacant and the shop is closed gone, but like gone-gone. As in, the store no longer exists. There's only just a big blank square of empty space standing between two other stores, and after Edward spends an embarrassingly exhausting ten minutes trying not to die under the noon-day sun, a helpful passerby stops to tell him what's up.
"Yeah, the store just up and vanished one day last week," the man says.
"Vanished?" Edward echoes.
"Well, it was a witch store, wasn't it? They do that sometimes."
A witch store. Edward had bought vampire teeth from a witch store. He's an actual fucking idiot. Of course, this is because of witches - or one witch, actually. This has all the hallmarks of a spell gone awry on it, doesn't it? And the witch, that old crone, had asked him if he was sure about buying the teeth, and he'd said yes. He probably consented to be turned into a vampire! Accidentally, but still!
"Why me?" he whines, ignoring the weird look the man gives him as he wanders away. Edward spends several more minutes staring at the vacant lot, trying to figure out what he's supposed to do now. Just live like this? Be a vampire? He doesn't want to drink blood!
No, no. There has to be something he can do. Surely, he knows someone who can -
He does. Edward knows someone.
He knows Bella. Bella who is a witch. An actual, real-life witch. He has confirmed that she's a witch because he once saw her curse a rude customer at the convenience store to always open doors the wrong way and the guy had a hysterical breakdown when he couldn't figure out how to get out of the store. It was wicked cool. And more than that, it's proof that Bella can surely do something about Edward's situation.
But of course, it isn't that easy. It's like, right when he actually wants to run into Bella because he's prepared to see her, he can't find her at all. She's not on campus, she doesn't come to the convenience store, and he doesn't see her in the neighborhood. It's a bit of a problem, especially since day one ends and Edward only has 24 hours before his parents arrive to get his shit together.
This is why, in the early morning hours, Edward wanders around his neighborhood, keeping an eye out for anything vaguely witchy and for one witch in particular. He's lowkey hoping to stumble across Bella, but he doesn't think it'll actually happen. He's pretty sure he's fucked. He's going to be stuck like this for the rest of his life.
Edward crosses streets and circles blocks for a while. It's not like he can sleep, anyway, so he might as well waste his time. He isn't expecting any good news, especially with the ominous rain clouds settling overhead, but right as he's passing an apartment building, the loud screech of a window opening draws his attention.
He looks up - and his eyes widen. It's Bella. And she's looking down at him, just as surprised to see him as he is to see her.
Hey, maybe Edward is actually lucky.
Bella leans out the window, uncaring of the chill. "What are you doing up at, what, three in the morning?"
Edward shrugs, craning his neck back. "You know, stuff. Actually, I was looking for you, kind of."
Bella's brows lift. "Me?"
"Yeah."
"What do you need me for?"
Edward scratches the back of his head. "It's kind of a long story."
Bella hums. "Alright. I'll buzz you in, then, and you can tell me all about it."
While part of Edward is amazed it was that easy, he's not falling for this vampire trick twice. No way. It was embarrassing enough the first time. "You mean, I can come inside?"
"Obviously," Bella laughs, moving away from the window and disappearing from sight. A moment later, there is a god-awful rattling buzz from the door of the building and Edward rushes to open the door while he still has a chance.
He goes up to the second floor and tries to figure out which apartment is Bella's. It isn't too difficult to guess - there is only one door guarded by crystals and talismans. He takes a deep breath, and then he knocks.
Bella opens the door almost immediately. She's in an oversized KISS shirt and nothing else, the neck too wide and slipping off her shoulder. Her hair is carelessly tousled down her back. She looks so good. His mouth goes dry at the same time his teeth throb, which is so fucking weird that he isn't even going to spare it a second thought.
"Well, come on in," she says impatiently, and he does, stepping into the apartment with wide eyes - so much witch stuff everywhere! - while she locks the door. Bella circles around him, her arms crossed, eyes narrowed in thought. "You look different."
Edward grimaces. "I am different."
"You're dramatic," Bella corrects.
Edward shakes his head. "No, I'm really different," he insists, pulling his lips back from his teeth.
Bella blinks at him and then, to his horror, actually leans forward to get a really good look at his fangs. She even taps her fingernail against them, bemusement crossing her too-pretty features. "Huh. Those are real, aren't they?"
"Help me," Edward pleads. "I think I'm dying."
Bella clicks her tongue. "Dramatic," she repeats. She tilts her head, then says very casually, "But you might be right. This is the kind of curse that can kill you."
"Wait, what?" he bursts out, following her as she turns on her heel and goes directly to this frankly unbelievable book collection so heavy it's nearly destroying the integrity of her shelving unit. "I'm actually dying?"
"Probably," Bella says, nonchalant as she selects a book and flips through it.
Edward doesn't know what to think. He knows he's gaping, showing off his stupid fangs like the dying moron he is. And Bella, the girl he's been pining after for over two years, is just acting like it's nothing. That part hurts more than the dying because Edward thought that maybe they were on the same page - but it turns out they weren't, because Bella just told Edward he's dying and she's not broken up about it at all.
Bella glances up from her book, her brow furrowed. "Why do you look so dumb?"
"Because I'm dying," Edward says morosely. And you don't seem to care, he doesn't add.
Bella rolls her eyes. "Oh, please. You're not going to die. This isn't even a big curse."
His eyes widen, his brain spinning to keep up. "Wait, so, then that means…"
She smirks at him, dark eyes glimmering. "I can save you," she confirms, then pauses thoughtfully. Her eyes scan him over and she licks her lips. It feels oddly predatory. "But, you might not like the method…"
"Whatever you have to do to save me, I'm game," Edward tells her bluntly.
"Good," she says briskly. "Because the only way to undo a curse like this is to take blood from a willing donor when blood in the donor's body is at its highest peak."
Bella stares at him expectantly. Edward stares back, uncomprehending.
She sighs, reaching up to flick the middle of his forehead. "It's sex magic, Edward. You have to drink my blood while I'm having an orgasm," she explains.
Oh.
Oh.
Edward almost swallows his tongue. "You want me to fuck you," he says. Even as he says it, even as he reaches the conclusion, he struggles to believe it's real. He pinches himself. That hurts, so he must not be dreaming.
Bella wants to have sex with him. To cure a curse, but still!
She lifts a brow, somehow managing to look down her nose at him even though she's so petite. "Is that a question? Do you want me to fuck you instead?"
Edward shakes his head. "No! I can - that's fine!"
Bella looks at him skeptically, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "Are you sure?" she checks. "There's a Wiccan sex shop down the road. I'm sure they have pegging equipment…"
"I'm sure!" Edward bursts out. "I want to fuck you!"
He wants to fuck her so much that he's clearly stupid with it.
"Well, now that you're sure." She rolls her eyes. "Strip. Go lay down. Be quiet so I can set up the ritual."
Edward turns to do exactly that, having easily pinpointed her bed shoved up against one wall in her tiny studio apartment. He hesitates for only a minute when he starts to take off his clothes. He's assuming she means all of his clothes. Hearing her puttering around behind him - there are clinks of glass and fluttering book pages and a low intonation that sounds like music to his newly-keen hearing - he wastes a few minutes folding his clothes neatly, placing them on a little velvet footstool by the bed. And then he lays down on his back in the middle of her messy mattress, the black cotton sheets sinfully soft against his chilled skin. He tries to ignore his dick, which is embarrassingly already very much on board with this magical curse cure.
Bella comes over to the bed a few minutes later. She's burning a white wax candle already, strangely scentless, and steps directly onto her mattress. He has the best view in the world as she steps around him, drawing a circle in melted wax around his prone body - every time she moves, he has a glimpse of the satin sheen of her panties. He licks his lips, imagining what it would be like if she just sat on his -
"Ouch!" he hisses, flinching away.
"Don't move," she snaps, still pouring the candle wax in some kind of sigil design over the skin of his wrist.
"It burns," he says petulantly.
"That's because you're cursed," she tells him. "Now, hush."
Wax goes on first his left wrist, and then his right, and then his right ankle, and then his left, and after that, she pours a similar sigil onto the center of his chest. It all burns, dim and muted, even after the wax cools on his skin. His teeth ache more.
Bella blows out the candle then tosses it on the floor. She moves until her feet are on either side of his hips and then she sinks down, kneeling over him as she reaches for something she had placed on the bed earlier when he was distracted. He doesn't realize what it is until one of his hands is tied in a tight loop to the headboard.
Edward's eyes widen. "Are the uh, ropes part of the ritual?"
"No," Bella answers casually, moving on to tie the other rope. His eyes are locked on the sway of her unbound breasts as she leans over his face.
"Then…?"
Is she just kinky? Edward can be okay with that.
Bella finishes off tying his wrist, then sits back until her ass is directly on his dick. She wiggles a bit, raising a brow at him once more when makes a punched-out noise of pleasure. "I don't want you to kill me, now do I? If you actually drink enough blood to kill someone, then this curse will last forever. Understand?"
"Uh-huh," Edward says dumbly. "I got it. Uh, what else is needed for the ritual?"
Bella's smirk turns absolutely lecherous as she reaches forward, tracing the bow of his lips even as she licks her own. She grinds down on him, gripping his chin firmly. "Nothing else," she says. "The magic is already rising. Can you feel it? I do."
The only thing rising is his aching dick, which he's pretty sure she is fully aware of. He bucks up against her, feet scrambling for some kind of purchase on the soft sheets. In response, Bella lets out an entertained little laugh, then pulls her shirt off her body, baring herself completely to him with the exception of that damnable scrap of black satin she calls panties. Her breasts, he thinks, are a perfect pale handful, and he would give anything to touch them right now. But as it is, she has him trussed up like a sacrificial offering, and the only thing he can do is watch her nipples pebble in the cool air.
Bella's hands explore over his chest, his torso. "I knew you would be beautiful," she says conversationally. "There aren't many male witches, you know? If any of us want children, we have to find a human man. Ever since I saw you...I knew you would be perfect for me."
Edward swallows, trying to gather his wits beyond the warm coil that lunges ever so higher with each lazy swirl of her hips. "What does that mean?"
Bella looks at him through her dark lashes, her smile both an invitation and a challenge. "It means, I hope this won't be a one-time thing. You get it?"
Edward thinks he gets it. At the very least, his blissed-out brain cells can gather Bella likes him as much as he likes her, and he can work with that. He can definitely work with that.
Bella, he comes to find, isn't an exceptionally romantic woman. She's straight-forward and forthright, the type of woman to take what she wants when she wants it. And that's exactly what she does with him. She spends a few more minutes warming herself over him and then, without much warning, she simply pulls aside her panties just enough to slide down on his dick with a truly luxurious moan of content. He watches her with dark eyes and straining biceps, takes note of the way her hips swivel and the muscles in her thighs twitch, the way her fingers curl into the flesh of his abdomen.
He doesn't have much leverage, but he has enough to buck upward, fucking her as best he can even being so restrained. Bella adjusts herself, grinding her hips back and down with these undulating movements that have him pressing against the center of her pleasure so often that each of his thrusts is met by a breathless noise. She leans forward, catching his lips in a filthy, tongue-swirling kiss around the fangs in his mouth, which pulse in time with his blood.
Bella uses him to chase her own pleasure. There is no other way to put it, and he honestly wouldn't have it any other way. She takes her time to find a rhythm and angle that works for her, and he does his best to put enough force behind his movements so that pleasure will snake up her spine the same way it snakes up his.
At one point, she is riding him at her leisure, her head tossed back, and his eyes zero in on the veins in her neck. It's pure instinct that drives him, that sends a surge of strength through his arms - and while Bella had tied those ropes tight, it's also true that the ropes themselves were thin.
He breaks them.
And in the next moment, he has them toppled over, her legs held high around his waist as he fucks her and fucks her, the bed shaking in time with her keening noises. Her head is hanging over the side of the bed, her nails raking across his shoulders. Nothing has felt better than this, than the tight clench of her body around his, than the way she cries out his name. He's so mindless with the instinct to fuck her straight through the mattress that the other instinct, the vampire instinct, hits him out of nowhere. One minute he's exalting in the trembling flutter of her pussy, and in the next he's digging his teeth into the curve of her neck, a gush of warmth filling his mouth.
He swallows hungrily, looking up at her even as he still thrusts into her pliant body. Her eyes are rolling back, her mouth open and red and wet. He swallows again, tasting the richness of her blood, shivering at it hurtles him to his own finish. She clenches around him again and he closes his eyes, fully giving himself over to the instinct to take and take and take -
There is an electric jolt running from his neck all the way down to his spine that has him pulling away from her - or being propelled away, actually, given how he lands on the other side of the mattress. He spills on his stomach, muscles twitching in the exhausted aftermath, blood spilling over the sides of his mouth.
Beside him, Bella laughs breathlessly. "Hecate," she manages. "I had a feeling you would be good, but that was - Hey, are you okay? Let me check your mouth."
Edward turns his head toward her, opens his mouth as much as he can. He's bone-tired all of the sudden, like he hasn't gotten proper sleep or food in a month, which is actually pretty accurate. He figures this sudden lack of energy means the curse is broken, but Bella confirms it after she examines first his mouth, then his pulse, and then something else with a whispered spell.
"All clear," she declares, draping herself across his sweaty chest. Her neck is stained with her own drying blood, but there is no wound to be found.
Edward closes his eyes in relief. "Oh, thank God. I wasn't ready to die."
"It was just a little curse," Bella tells him. "A five-year-old probably cast it."
"That doesn't make me feel better," he says.
"Oh, that's too bad," she returns, shifting against him. She moves to straddle his hips, rubbing against him lasciviously. "I was hoping for another round…"
It ends like this:
Edward gives her another round. He'll give her all the rounds she wants and not just because she probably saved him from a life of vampirism, but because she's Bella and he's about ninety percent sure he's in love with her. And because he thinks, maybe, they might have found their way to each other even without the curse, even if it might have taken longer.
Is it weird to feel happy about being cursed? Because he feels happy. What's a little curse compared to Bella Swan happily sleeping in his arms and letting him introduce her to his parents as his girlfriend?
In the end, it's nothing. He'd be cool with being cursed again if this is what it gets him.
(Except, maybe, as something other than a vampire next time? Because being a vampire sucked.)
A/N: Yes, I did TWO entries for this contest. I had two ideas and they obviously both had to be written. Unlike the first one, this one didn't have a deep inspiration - I just saw some memes and tumble prompts and I though, Holy shit, that's funny. And then this came out. It's my first time intentionally writing humor, as anything else I've written that's remotely humorous is purely accidental. You guys, I think I might actually be funny. I have no plans of continuing this story, either.
As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.
(Stay safe and keep wearing your masks!)
~Rae