FFT Outtake: Like Father, Like Daughter

Aka She Fucking Bit Me,

Aka Does Anyone Have a Bandaid

Warning: some might find this somewhat offensive. If you are seriously offended when reading about various sexual activities and perhaps, perversions, ya might want to hit back on the browser. If you are not old enough to read or buy porn, stop here.

A/N: this was a futuretake for Fandom Fights Tsunami after the tsunami in Japan in 2011

As soon as the front door clicked shut, Edward was assaulted by sound, and the relative silence of the last few days was obliterated instantly and thoroughly. Obviously having detected his early and somewhat unexpected arrival, from somewhere deep in the house, he heard an excited, almost ear-splitting stream of, "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!"

Tie now thankfully loosened and roller bag still in hand, Edward pushed his lenses up the bridge his nose and suppressed the involuntary cringe at the volume, as he mused how exactly his daughter's child-sized lungs could physiologically produce that particular decibel level. Judging by the distortion and echo, he quickly resolved that she had to be on the complete other end of the house – and on the second floor! – but even across the distance, the shrillness still made his ears ring. From a purely objective standpoint, it was astounding really – a damned near marvel of sound mechanics. Abstractedly, he wondered if those squeals were actually pitched high enough and loud enough to curdle milk or at least to shatter glass. It was an alarming thought, and as he had many, many times since her birth, Edward was perplexed as to how his eardrums had yet to burst.

Over the last four years, amongst many other discoveries, Edward had conclusively determined that children were very loud creatures. And frankly, were the racket to come out of any other child's mouth – including that damnable, overly flirtatious Brandon-Whitlock toddler, William – Edward would have been writhing both inside and outside.

But somehow, by some strange genetic anomaly that was not covered in his scientific texts – he had checked, obviously – even as he physically flinched, the sound of his daughter's voice, loud or soft or in any way, made him sigh in relief and made his face split with joy.

"Daddy!" she shrieked again. "You're home!"

Per their custom when he'd been away, he patiently – or really, not so patiently – waited by the door for her greeting. While he could not see her yet, Edward certainly could hear her movement. To the rhythm of her giggling squeals, Beth's little feet slapped against the second-story hardwood floors above, echoing down the steps, down the hallway, and into the foyer.

Beth was running… in the house… again. Thus, immediately and like always, replacing his meandering ponderings over sound mechanics and parent/offspring relations, a barrage of what-if's assaulted Edward's mind. And like always, each mental image was progressively worse than the previous – all involving bruised knees and broken toes and cut shins and crying little girls (and as such, fathers, too) – and each made him question, yet again, why he and Bella chose to live in a house with stairs. Stairs were very, very dangerous, especially with children who liked to run.

Of course, as if to threaten his sanity on a daily basis, just like her mother, Beth did not seem to understand his concerns for household safety and routinely treated the long hallways of their historic Colonial as her own personal racetrack. And of course, Edward was, despite his half-hearted arguments to the contrary, powerless to stop her. Because when his only daughter smiled, the sun rose.

There was a loud thump-thump-thump down the stairs. Then before he could even fully process or object to the neon pink princess dress she wore, accessorized with matching rhinestone tiara, or the bright orange smudges that stained her fingertips – apparently, Bella had allowed those godforsaken Cheetos again – Edward felt a small, giggling mass launch itself into his arms. When he felt little lips peppering kisses on his cheek, an exultant, impossible-to-contain grin spread across his face.

"Good afternoon, Sunshine," he laughed, swiftly picking her up and swinging around in a maneuver that they had mastered from the moment she learned to walk. "I missed you this week. Did you miss me?"

Beth locked her arms around his neck and looked at him straight in the eye. Giggles silenced, in almost perfect mimicry of Bella's so-called stern expression, her bottom lip jutted out, a pucker marred her forehead, and her eyes narrowed into dark slits.

Shaking her mass of autumn-colored curls, deathly serious, Beth, not asked, but told him, "You can't go away again, Daddy."

Edward blinked, confused and perhaps somewhat amused by the abrupt change in her demeanor. Beth had unmistakably and definitively inherited her mother's personality in that respect. For after six years of conscious study, he had yet to be able to decipher and predict Bella's shifting moods. Women, even small ones, were exceedingly complicated entities.

When he didn't immediately respond, Beth huffed and crossed her arms in a move that was one hundred percent Bella. She's really angry! he realized. Fuck.

"Ah, well, yes, but it was only… you see, Daddy's job… I-, well… but-" he sputtered, trying but failing to formulate some explanation that she could comprehend. While Beth was undoubtedly brilliant – yet another trait she picked up from her mother – he did not believe that she could appreciate the intricacies and unfortunate necessities of adult work life. But then, sometimes, he could not understand them either – for instance, Dr. Brandon's continual obsession and insistence on shiny, colorful slides with ridiculous animated cartoons, none of which, in Edward's opinion, had any business ever being included in a scientific presentation.

But as the most decorated and distinguished member of the Pharmacokinetics staff, not to mention one of the top experts in his field, it was simply expected that he attend and lecture at the more prominent and respectable industry conferences.

Naturally, Edward despised any such socio-technical gathering as they inexorably involved dreaded small-talk and socializing, and quite honestly, even after years of experience and exposure, the idea of public speaking was loathsome in the extreme. Not to mention vomit-inducing. Never mind that he only vomited twice this past meeting – a rather significant improvement from the norm, he believed.

But it wasn't as though they could send Dr. McCarty! The very idea of Emmett at the lectern discussing his libido-enhancing formulations – yes, he was still working on those – in front of a mass of their colleagues turned Edward's face crimson from secondhand embarrassment. One simply did not send sub-par technical representation to such important and austere events. Although Edward acknowledged, Emmett was unquestionably preferred over Dr. Hawaiian Tropic Black. Fucker.

"Momma was sad," Beth whispered, interrupting his internal (and thankfully only partially external) ramblings. She leaned in closer and solemnly nodded to punctuate her statement.

"Wait, what?" he blurted, incredulous. Something very uncomfortable and heavy settled in Edward's stomach, and everything else was promptly forgotten.

"Momma's sad when you are gone." Again, in an expression so like her mother that it was altogether uncanny, Beth's eyes widened and her teeth worried her lower lip. "Don't tell her I told you. She'll be mad."

Surreptitiously, he glanced over to the stairs to see if Bella had come down. His forehead crumpled, and softly, he asked, "Beth, how do you know that she was sad?"

"She was crying on the bed after you hung up and there were tears like she was hurt and she looked really sad. But she didn't see me. Don't tell Momma, okay, Daddy? I don't like it when Momma cries."

That weight in his stomach bounced and something painful stung his eyes. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

Obviously, he kept that string of curses to himself. It was remarkable what children picked up. For example, it had taken over a month to undo the damage of Emmett's last language debacle. Of course, Dr. Whitlock had evidently had his part in it, as well, as both men had tears rolling down their faces. Edward had not been pleased, however, when his then three-year-old traipsed through the front door loudly answering, "That's what she said," to every possible remark. In some kind of hateful rebellion, all four grandparents had found it utterly hilarious. His father even encouraged her by laughing and giving her candy as an enticement – a doubly traitorous offense by Edward's estimation.

Unwilling to cause a scene and repressing his mounting anxiety for her sake alone, Edward forced a smile and kissed Beth's forehead. "Me neither," he murmured. "I'll fix it, though."

Because he didn't like it. At all. In fact, the notion that Bella had been distraught to the point of tears in his absence and, moreover, that she had not informed him of her discontent drove him to the brink of violent internal panic. Certainly, he had been miserable without her, but that was simply the truth and fact of his existence. Edward missed her the moment he'd walked out of the door. But that his misery had been reciprocated and to such an extent was just wrong on every possible level, blasphemy almost, and it took all of his self-control not to bolt up the stairs to find her so that this situation could be remedied. Immediately.

Regardless, one thing was instantly and crystal clear: this would not happen again. Ever.

Because his wife was far, far more important than anyone or anything else – other than Beth, of course. And as such, any and all of his earlier apprehension over sub-par technical representation went by way of the window. For the next meeting or conference or whatever, as far as Edward was concerned, Dr. Aro could fucking suck it.

And really, it wasn't as though they would fire him for turning down outside addresses. He was, barring none, their star – that wasn't vanity speaking either; it was merely reality. Too, Edward rationalized, scientists such as himself were allowed a certain amount of behavioral leeway and even insubordination if the circumstances warranted – which this certainly did. And after all, he continued, eccentricity always traveled with brilliance. Indeed, it was expected. If they could not accept that, there was always Hopkins… or one of the dozen other institutions and companies begging to take him on.

"Promise?" Beth asked, again breaking him from his silent ranting.

"I promise I'll fix it," he answered. Pushing a wayward tendril from her face, he bent his head so that he was eye level. "Um, how about I just don't go away like that again? Or at all. Or if I have to… well, you and your mother will come, too?" he went on as he carried her into the living room. "Is that okay?"

Beth smiled and enthusiastically nodded, apparently contented that her lecture had had the desired impact. It had.

"Ah, right… Yes… And… and we'll just let this conversation be our secret, okay?" he said, sitting them both down on the couch. "Just between… just between you and me. We won't tell your mother about this."

Her smile turned into a full-on blinding grin, and Beth squeezed his neck until he could barely breathe. "'Kay. Just our secret." She kissed his chin, giggling at the scratch of his stubble before whispering in his ear, "I love you, Daddy. I missed you."

~O.o~

"What are we playing?" Edward asked as he removed his tie and rolled back the cuffs of his oxford.

Apparently, children, including his own, had no concept of decompression or relaxation time. After granting him but a moment to remove his jacket and kiss Bella hello – far too insufficient a greeting considering the conversation he had had with Beth – small fingers had wound between his, pulling him away and toward her room. Now that she had chastised him to her satisfaction, she was apparently happy to move to the next most important subject: play time with her father.

"We're playing scientist!" she shouted, barreling ahead. "I have a surprise!"

Considering her unexpected choice in play, it was now wholly impossible for him to deny her, never mind that he was dead tired and still reeling from Beth's divulgences. In fact, he was rather intrigued by what she called 'playing scientist'. This was certainly new, and no matter what it entailed, it was a considerable improvement over 'Barbie' and 'tea party' and 'pony', the latter of which was the worst as his daughter liked to put glittery barrettes and ribbons in his 'mane'. It was embarrassing to say the least.

"But you are in a… princess dress," he answered, his lips twitching as he took in her preposterous attire. The dress Beth wore wasn't merely neon pink. No, it was at least eight shades of the hideous color, and the fabric was ruffled and poofy and it had jewels and sequins all over it. It looked like some nightmarish Disney confection. Dr. Brandon was surely to blame for this monstrosity of clothing. The nearly matching violet one in her closet was his mother's doing, however.

"Beth, scientists wear, um, lab coats and safety glasses… not dresses and, erm, crowns."

"Yes, they do! I'm a scientist princess!" she laughed, as she picked up some eye-gouging purple thing from the floor. "See! I have a lab coat, too! Just like you, Daddy! Nana got it for me so I won't get dirty when I experiment stuff! See? It has my name on it! B-E-T-H!"

'Nana' Renee found his mother's color fetish riotous (as if her own writing of amateur erotica wasn't). As such, sure enough, as if to add fuel to the fire, she had evidently gifted Beth with what? A tiny, child-sized purple lab coat, the very existence of which made Edward's head hurt.

The entire family was, without a doubt, insane.

"Fu- Where did she find that?" he muttered, wincing. Though, he had to admit the magenta embroidered nametag was a nice touch.

From the doorway behind them, Bella laughed. "RIT dye, I think."

Immediately, he spun around, only to find a very amused and smirking Bella. A very sexy, very hot, and very wanted amused and smirking Bella.

"Are you laughing at me, Mrs. Cullen?" he asked, raising one brow.

Eyefucking one's spouse in the presence of one's child was generally frowned upon, he knew. Yet at that juncture it was impossible not to eyefuck her. Because she was wearing one of his – note: the his – dress shirts and a pair of navy sleep shorts that were barely visible beneath the pale blue fabric of his shirt.

And that was sexier than any lingerie he'd ever seen her in. First of all, she was in his clothing, and that did strange things to his lower half. But secondly, really, his wife's legs were something of teenaged males' naughty wet dreams. Long, slender, and shapely, he knew precisely what they looked like wrapped around his naked waist. Or around his head. Or in sky-high fuck-me-hard heels standing and bent over the table. Or over the couch. Or the bed. Or anywhere really. They were well versed in fucking locales.

Equally distracting, atop the wanking wonderland of legs and thighs was her ass…her perfect, heart-shaped ass that he wanted to sp-… Edward shook his head to clear it, mentally berating himself, Goddamnit! Not now! Gah!

Judging by the devious smile plastered to Bella's face, however, she knew exactly what he was thinking – granted, considering that he was damned near drooling, it didn't take a mind reader to figure that out. In a clear 'come hither and fuck me' move, she bit down on her lower lip and shifted to stand on one foot, the other bent and resting against the doorframe. The way her shorts rode up her thigh was goddamned sinful, and he wanted nothing more than throw her over his shoulder and carry her back to their bedroom so that he could bury his face between those thighs and lick her pussy until she came all over him.

Fuck.

"Daddy!" Beth blurted, startling him when she grabbed his hand. He shook his head again, grateful and only slightly annoyed by the distraction. Cockblock by child was a common occurrence, likely the only negative effect of reproduction. Well, not the only, but the most… frustrating.

"Look what Uncle Emmett got me!"

When Edward lifted his eyes, sitting on the top of her play table, he saw what had to have been at once the most marvelous and most disturbing contraption he'd ever seen.

It was… a microscope.

And not just any microscope.

No, this was not some piddling plastic trinket from a child's chemistry or biology set, nor was it even high school grade. This was a real, professional, laboratory-grade piece of equipment, entirely at odds with its surroundings. In fact, judging from the setup, it was actually an Olympus BH-2 compound… complete with hematology configuration. And it looked remarkably like the one he had locked up in his lab and had steadfastly refused to part with when the Capital Equipment Trolls – Dr. Brandon being one of them – told him it was time to upgrade. Managers never understood the concept that new was not necessarily better.

Only… it wasn't exactly like his. This one was… Hello Kitty pink.

Edward's brow furrowed in confusion and he anxiously palmed the back of his neck. Based on everything he knew about that particular optical company and its products, Olympus BH-2 microscopes did not come in Hello Kitty pink… or any pink for that matter. This one had obviously been… decorated. With paint. Of the pink variety. And with stickers. He thought that he even saw a unicorn affixed to the base.

Fidgeting slightly, he stared at his little girl and then to her mother for explanation. "Ah, erm… What- what… Where did you get this?"

"I told you!" she squealed. "Uncle Emmett brought it this week! It was a surprise!"

"But- but this is… just like mine… it's…I don't understand. Where did Emmett get-"

"Edward?" Bella hummed, smiling slightly, but looking away. "About that…"

"And Daddy!" Beth shouted. "Look! I'm experimenting stuff just like you! See!"

Edward gaze slid to the stage and the glass slide already clamped beneath the clips. There was a curious, dark brownish-red dried smudge in the middle, not readily identifiable from the distance.

Collecting himself, he walked over to the small table where Beth was already eagerly staring through the eyepiece. Clearing his throat, still rather stunned and bemused by the fact that there was a rather large and very pricey piece of pink laboratory equipment sitting in his daughter's bedroom, he played along, asking, "So… ah, um, what do you have on the slide? What are you looking at?"

"Blood."

"Ah, well, yes, of course…" he mumbled, distracted and assessing the objective settings – again, just like his! A second later, however, his head shot up and his eyes widened like saucers.

"Wait. What did you say?"

~O.o~

"Is she in bed?"

Bella nodded.

"Asleep?"

She nodded again.

Edward stepped closer and leaned in, coming close enough that he could smell the barest hint of her perfume but not quite contacting, effectively caging her between his body and the door. Not taking his eyes from hers, he reached around, still not touching, and deliberately flipped the lock.

When her breath caught, his palm slid beneath his shirt to her side and his fingers spread out to frame the luscious curve of her hip. Slowly and lightly, Edward brushed his lips across her cheek, dragging them along the line of her jaw to her ear.

"That wasn't funny, Mrs. Cullen," he murmured, his voice taking on the distinct commanding quality that only appeared when they were like this.

"Yes, it was," Bella breathed, as his fingertips pressed harder into her skin. "It wasn't real…. just jello."

"I don't care… Not funny."

But really, it was. Now that his panic had been assuaged and his insides no longer quivered and churned, he could appreciate that. Earlier, however, believing that his daughter's own blood had been shed… that was not funny. At all. He'd nearly blown a gasket, in fact, completely forgetting the strange appearance of her new pink toy.

Speaking of which, Edward concluded that Beth had to be the only four-year-old to have ever received a four thousand dollar (and that was the used price!) pink microscope. And one in such fine shape. Her toy was in at least as good of condition as his own! Edward made a point to ask Emmett where he had acquired such a thing.

Interrupting his diverting wonderings, he felt a tug at his waist and heard the clang of his belt buckle.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Edward purred, grasping both of her wrists, lifting them high above her head, and pinning them to the door behind her. The hand on her hip slid around to her front and slowly walked up her abdomen, unclasping each button until the shirt hung freely, just exposing the pink edges of her nipples.

"Don't move your hands until I tell you," he commanded, cocking a brow in challenge. "Or I won't fuck you. And Mrs. Cullen? I really, really want to fuck my wife tonight. I've missed her."

It was impossible to hide the fervor behind those words. Because he did miss her. And he still remembered what Beth had said. He had two weeks of loneliness to make up.

When his mouth covered her nipple, Bella writhed against him, moaning softly and rhythmically to his suckling. Greedily, he pushed back her shirt and ran his hands up and down her sides, kneading and feeling and re-memorizing the contours of her body.

Her body was fucking perfect, some kind of incongruity in nature's aging process. As far as Edward was concerned, no model on the planet could improve upon her shape, especially after Beth. To her ludicrous dismay and his sheer delight, her hips were a little bit wider and her ass was a little bit plumper. And her tits. Fuck, her tits. They were round and full and heavy, and her nipples were made to suck and pinch and fuck. Which he did often and very happily.

Purposefully teasing her, his tongue traced and flicked the silvery bar that pierced her nipple – bars were a fairly recent change from her traditional rings. Gently, and then not so gently, Edward bit down, pulling and tugging, as he slid his hand behind the elastic waistband of her shorts.

"Oh, God," she moaned, as he slid a forefinger, and then a second, inside her pussy, crooking them just so to find the spot that made her shiver. She was remarkably wet, he noted, an effect that was only fair considering his cock was currently rock hard, straining against his zipper, and begging to come out and play. "Edward… fuck… please…"

"You want me to finger fuck you until you come?" Edward licked up her chest to her neck, nipping at her skin, leaving tiny, red welts. At the junction of her neck and shoulder, he found and tongued the lightly raised mark that he'd made almost six years prior.

"Please…"

She was so needy – in actuality, a mirror of him. It took all of his restraint to not jerk her shorts down and fuck her against the door then and there. But he wanted her to come first. Always her first. To start with, it was simply polite – men who did not understand this were clearly inconsiderate and perhaps Neanderthals. But more importantly, Bella's second – and even third – orgasms were always stronger than the first, and her pussy felt fucking incredible when it constricted around his cock.

He pumped his fingers, and Bella moaned again, some garbled affirmative that sent a wave of heat down his abdomen. Thankfully, it only took him all of three minutes to make her body start shaking. When his thumb joined his fingers, pressing and stroking her clit with each upstroke, her walls fluttered, clamping down on his fingers, and he had to muffle her volume by covering her mouth with his own.

Thirty seconds and a flurry of clothes later, Edward found himself precisely where he had wanted to be for the past two weeks: on his bed, naked, and positioned behind his wife, who just happened to be on all fours and pleading to be fucked blind.

Teasing himself, he rubbed the head of his cock between her cheeks, dipping just inside her pussy and spreading her wetness all over. He splayed his palm against her upper back, pushing her chest down to the mattress. Bella's spine automatically arched in practiced response, lifting her ass as if in welcome invitation. The depth he could reach in this position was something akin to the rapture. He could actually feel himself bottom out with each stroke, and from what he understood, she would feel the effects of their coupling for days afterward. Thus, this was one of their favorite positions.

"Fuck, you look good like that," he muttered, mesmerized by the slick sheen coating his cock. "God, I need to fuck you, Bella. I swear, I swear I'll make love to you tonight, too. But goddamn… I need to fuck you first."

Her keening 'yes' was cut short by his cock pushing inside of tight, wet, hot pussy heaven.

After no more than a second to reacclimatize himself to being inside of her, groaning far too loudly, Edward roughly gripped her by the hips and slowly pulled out and then pushed in again, trying to drag out the astonishing sensation of friction as long as possible.

"Missed you… God, I missed you…so much…" Edward grunted as his hips involuntarily began shifting faster and harder with each stroke. This would be a fast fuck, that much he knew. Being in her like this was too much, too good, and he wanted to come like he wanted air to breathe.

Cupping her ass on either side, each time he pulled out, he squeezed her cheeks together around his cock. The feeling was mind-numbing, and the visual alone was worthy of any porn on the market. When he sped his motions, wanting more and harder and deeper, her hips slammed back against his, meeting him thrust for thrust.

"Edward…. yes… oh, oh, fu-" she cried out. Thankfully, there was a pillow there to quiet her volume. "Missed this… missed you, too… Oh, my fucking… hate it… when you're… go- Oh, motherfuck, right there…"

"Touch yourself, baby," he punched out through gritted teeth. "Touch yourself while my cock's in you. I want you to come again."

Sweat trickled down his back and his hips burned. It had been more than just two weeks since he'd fucked her this hard. This was pent-up need and frustration and loneliness. It was hot and amazing and God, he wanted it to go on forever.

When he felt her fingers slipping and sliding against his shaft as she circled her clit, his hands tightened around her waist, pulling her down onto his cock, their skin slapping loudly in the quiet of the room. Edward rolled his hips, circling and flexing slightly, and Bella screamed into the pillow. The sound was like pouring lighter fluid on a fire, and he almost lost it.

"Please come…oh, shit…. Fuck, Bella, I need you to come…" he panted, clenching his eyes shut.

Less than a handful of strokes later, in some kind of fateful gift from the gods, he felt her body tense beneath his. Around his cock, her pussy contracted and squeezed so tightly it sucked the breath from his lungs.

"That's it… fuck, yes…. Come all over me…" he groaned, thrusting hard and quick through her orgasm until his body followed suit, jerking and spilling inside of her for what felt like eternity.

At some point, Edward regained coherency and collapsed to the mattress on his side, exhausted and the happiest he'd been in weeks. Automatically, his arm circled Bella's waist, pulling her flush against him, her spine aligned with his chest. Breathing in and smelling his favorite scent the world over – perfume and sweat and sex and Bella – he smiled and sighed.

"I'm not leaving you again like that," he whispered after a few moments, kissing the back of her neck.

She stiffened and started, "But-"

"I don't care," he continued, languidly sliding his lips along her damp skin. "I don't like being away from you and Beth. Aro and Caius and whoever can fuck off."

Edward thought that she would argue, but she didn't. Instead, surprising him, Bella rolled on her back and grinned up at him in an expression that would have taken him to his knees had he been standing. "Good," she said, pressing her lips to his. "I don't like it when you're gone."

Rolling on top of her, Edward ducked his head to the crook of her neck. Never ceasing his slow, wet kisses, he followed a trail along her jaw, her chin, and then finally her lips. Pushing his tongue into her mouth, he kissed her long and slow, only stopping when she needed to breathe.

"Is Beth going to Alice's and Jasper's tomorrow?" he asked quietly.

"Why?"

With no hesitation whatsoever, he answered, "I don't want you to wear clothes tomorrow. In fact, I don't want to leave this room unless it's to have sex somewhere else."

Laughing, Bella ran her nails up and down his back. "She's actually going to your mom's tomorrow."

Edward froze and his stomach lurched. Beth at his parents' house always made him exceptionally nervous. "But… why… why not Alice's? Or she could stay with Rosalie… I know it's… the weekend and she doesn't…"

Bella's twitching lips and dancing eyes silenced him. She was… not telling him something.

"What?" Another round of nerves assaulted him.

Bella laughed again. "We're… taking a… break… from Beth visiting Will. She got in a little bit of… trouble… last Saturday."

Shocked and wholly disbelieving, Edward's lips parted. His glasses slid down his nose, yet he made no move to correct them. "What? But… I don't understand. What- what did she do? Beth doesn't get into trouble." Because she didn't. According to Edward, Beth was a perfect child. And too, as much as he disliked the whiny, flirtatious boy – as he would any boy – Beth seemed to adore him.

Bella winked.

"She bit him."