Hello there! My last prompt sucked, I know. I do, however, like this one a lot. Thanks to all the lovely GChat ladies for the Word Challenges (especially feathers_mmmm for inviting me and readingmama/vampiremama1 for expressing such interest and being a great Beta. :)

I don't own Twilight or any other respective aspects. I do own the weird shit I make them do. ;)


The Twilight Twenty-Five

Prompt #: 2

Pen name: Evil Black Poppies

Pairing: Bella and Edward

Rating: M for sexual content and strong language

Photos for prompts can be found here:

community[dot]livejournal[dot]com/thetwilight25/13912[dot]html


"CHEAP BOOZE," the sign read.

I sighed to myself as I shoved the door of the slightly-shady-looking liquor store.

A set of jingle bells attached to the door rang as the door opened. The walls were once white on the inside, now, an old ivory shade with dirt and age. One of the florescent lights blinked rapidly, a broken, dying heart beat.

Not unlike my own heart beat.

Without so much as glancing at the cashier, I made my way through the aisles, looking at random drinks based upon how intriguing the label looked. I did, however, grab a few staples-Jack's and vodka, mostly.

All for a party of one.

Glug, glug, woo-hoo.

My motorcycle boots, wet from the rain outside, made squeaking noises as I paced up and down the isles, over and over again. I'm pretty sure the guy at the register wanted to kill me. Finally surrendering to the fact that the most interesting thing here in my price range was the pink-bile known as Strawberry Hill, I walked to the check-out with my whiskey and vodka in hand.

The guy behind the register was staring at my chest.

Hi, my face is up here.

"Hey," I began, trying to not let my irritation leak into my tone. I set my drinks on the counter. "Can you ring me up?"

"Uhh, yeah," he told my boobs.

This guy was going to get slapped.

I glared, causing him to look down, blushing. He scanned the items and rattled off the total.

Not-so-cheap booze.

I forked over the money, grabbed my brown-paper bag and headed back to my apartment.


Kicking the door shut with the heel of my boot, I set my keys, purse, and bag on the counter. My roommate, Alice, was out of town. I had our loft apartment all to myself... and her cat from hell.

As I turned to grab a glass from the cabinet, said cat raced out from under the stove, hissing like a demon. Causing me, a naturally clumsy person, to drop the glass and break it in shock.

Mother fucking son of a bitch.

After cleaning that mess up and checking to see that there were no cats underneath the various appliances, I poured my first shot of the Jack. Shot glass in hand, I walked over to the iHome. Plugging my mp3 player in, I turned on music-Hole's 'Doll Parts' to be exact.

Adult beverages...check. Music...check.

Big party, right?

Taking my bottle of high-quality whiskey, I sat down on the threadbare couch and drink.

Slightly drunk now, I raised my glass. "To you, Jake," I saluted to the empty room. I downed the shot.

I had less than a fourth of the bottle finished when the buzzer that alerted me when visitor has arrived, went off.

Stumbling a little as I got up, I pressed the speak button. "What the fuck do you want?"

"Emmett?" A masculine voice shot back.

"I. Am. Not. A. Fucking. Guy." When I'm drunk, I have no patience for mistakes like this. Screw that, I never have patience.

"Shit. Sorry. I pressed the wrong keys. Do you know what number Emmett McCarthy is?"

"Do I look like a fucking directory?"

"Well you see... I can't actually see you."

"Wise ass," I growl.

"Hey, be nice." I heard him laugh. Why the fuck was I still talking to this guy?

"Why the fuck am I still talking to you?"

Again, he laughed. "I don't know. Maybe you want to get in my pants?"

That's a good question. He did have a very sexy voice. I laughed. I was about to rebuff him, but a voice in my head started to speak.

You are single, drinking alone, on a Friday night.

Hey, I told myself, I'm not entirely alone.

Because demon cat definitely counts as a person. Just ask him to come up. Live dangerously, that kind of shit.

"Hey... do you maybe wanna come up?" I asked before I can talk myself out of it. I took a swing of Jack's for bravery.

"I knew it!" He laughed. "What if you're some psychotic serial killer?"

"I swear to you I am not a psycho. The only thing I have ever wanted to kill is my absent roommate's cat."

He sighed. "Fine. I'll come up and risk death. By the way, what's your name Intercom-Girl?"

"Bella."

No response.

He probably blew me off.

But why was I so disappointed?

There was a knocking on my door.

I opened it.

"Hello Bella. Nice to meet you, I'm Edward."

Holy.

Mother.

Fuck.

He was beautiful. Tall, maybe 6'1''-6'2'' tops, with dishevelled hair the color of a sunset, all coppers and reds, and browns, the look was completed with fiery emerald eyes. He had on a tight-fitting gray waffle-knit long-sleeved t-shirt, dark wash, tailored jeans, and Vans. In his hands he held a bottle of... Strawberry Hill.

I almost snorted with irony.

He looked at me pointedly, waiting for me to speak. I grappled for words in the mess that was my thoughts... "Hi... Come in."

He walked in, eying the place dubiously. "So... no creepy bondage gear, no butcher's knives, no nothing?" he asked. He placed the Strawberry Hill on the counter.

"I think there are some cobwebs, but that's about it on the creepy scale."

"Hm," he pursed his lips. They were amazing, all pouty and wet. I wanted to kiss them. "What a disappointment." He shot me a killer, lop-sided smile. He walked over to the iPod dock. "You mind?" Edward asked.

"Nope," I said, popping the 'p'. I grabbed another glass, "You want something to drink? I've got Jack and Vodka."

"Sure," he said, "whatever. You can open the Strawberry Hill if you like." Radiohead's 'Paranoid Android' came on.

He turned to face me, green eyes meeting my brown ones. I lifted the bottle he'd brought, raising an eyebrow. "Why the hell would you buy such shitty wanna-be wine?"

He blushed. "It's kind of a long and complicated story..."

I shrugged, "Try me."

Looking down at his feet, he began, "You see my friend Emmett and I... we lost a friend back in our junior year of high school. Her name was Tanya. She got really, really smashed one night... on Starwberry Hill. And," he let out a huff, "... we were pretty fucked up too. So we let her... go... she drove head-on into a cop car."

My heart broke for him. It was awful to lose a friend-and I had the feeling she was more than a friend to him, judging by the tears shinning in his eyes.

It made me think of Jacob and his own sadness.

"And well, for the last three years... we've been drinking that... that shitty, bubbly, vomit... until we're as drunk as she was. As a tribute because tonight, three years ago we... just... Let. Her. Fucking. Go."

He looked away from me, like he was too ashamed to meet my eyes.

Acting on impulse, I set my glass down and walked over to him. I placed my hand on his rough, stubbly cheek, "Hey... It's not your fault." I gently pulled his head to face mine. "Look at me." His beautiful, eyes, ridden with guilt and fresh tears, met my own. "You were smashed too. Like I am now. And drunk people... don't make the best choices."

Then I reached up on my tip-toes and kissed him.

He brought his hand up to cup my chine as he kissed me back. I reached up and tangled my hands in his hair. He did the same with his free hand. He was sobbing now. I could feel it in his body as we pressed closer and closer together.

In between kisses, I whispered, "It's okay... It's not your fault, it's okay."

He took his hand from my face and wrapped it around my neck. We pressed against each other, pushing... closer, closer, closer. As I curved my body to fit his, I felt something against my stomach.

He was hard. For me.

It was then that I thought of Jacob. I saw Jacob's face, instead of his, I saw his face the night before... the night before he'd killed himself. I was betraying Jake, Jake's memory. But I also wanted to live again. To feel. To have someone. I didn't want to only feel the pain of losing Jake, the guilt of not being able to keep him afloat in the sea his depression.

Our kissing deepened from meeting lips to warring tongues and teeth. We clashed with the intensity of lightning, each fighting for dominance. Our bodies twisted around each other, moving. My hands pulled on his tousled, sunset-colored locks. His hands roamed from my hair, down my back. He'd pushed up my shirt so that his bare hands resided on the bare skin of small of my back.

He broke the kiss, "Bella..."

I looked up at him, "Edward?"

"I don't know what I'm going to do next..." His voice was filled with confliction for the dead girl he loved and me, the living girl he obviously felt something for.

I'm sure the same emotion was written across my own face.

"Feel," is what I told him, "Just feel right here, right now."

And with that I kissed him. Kissed him with everything I was feeling. Want, need, and sorrow pulsed through me instead of blood, I poured it all into our kiss. We swayed, half-falling, half him pushing me up against a wall. His hands roamed from my back to the fly of my jeans.

I didn't think about how wrong this was, doing something so intimate, so raw, with someone I barely knew. I only thought if I could make someone feel something other than sadness, then I could feel something other than it too.

I short I was going to have sex with a practical stranger for purely selfish reasons.

I didn't think in the moment that I wanted to help him. I wanted to help myself.

So as he began to unbutton my jean, I raked my hands down his back and around his waist, heading for the button of his jeans. We kept pushing and pulling at buttons and zippers until our pants were pooled around our feet. I stumbled as I tried to step out of my jeans, causing him to laugh.

"You think it would be wise to maybe relocate... I mean, we are in your kitchen," he smiled.

I flushed bright red. "Erm... possibly, yeah." I took his hand, my tiny hand fit perfectly in his. "Come on," I said, leading him-in my now very wet panties, nonetheless-to my bed room door.

He took the lead, practically dragging me to the bed. He climbed up onto the white sheets, pulling me with him.

Smiling, I sat on the bed, opposite him. Leaning in towards his ear, I whispered, "You okay?" and kissed his ear.

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me flush against him, "Perfect."

We kissed, hands roaming over all over. We pushed at each other's bodies and tongues. We push and push and push, keeping each other darkness in the corner, wanting to believe in the good that we felt now.

Wanting so desperately.

We were are flying mess of limbs. One minute I was kissing his lips, the next his shoulder. He kissed my collarbone, then my breasts-at some point we must have lost the remainder of our clothing-and next my stomach. His hands rubbed against my most private parts. And mine his.

Suddenly I was straddling him, everything was happening so quickly, so fast. It was frightening. And wonderful. We were so wrapped up in the moment, in each other, trying so hard to bask in each others' light.

And in those moments Edward, whose last name I didn't even know, had become my life persever. And I became his.

He rubbed his shaft against me, back and forth, back and forth. I grew hotter and wetter. "Edward..."

As soon as I had moaned his name, he dove inside me. My hips buckled forward. He went out and thrusted back in, harder, deeper this time. I gasped. He came in and out, in and out. Each time was faster, deeper, each thrust got almost... fiercer each time.

I bit my lip to try and keep from screaming. I needed him, I needed more, faster harder. He gave it to me. It was almost like each thrust pushed my ghosts further and further away. The deeper he went, the farther they went. But then I felt myself tighten around his length and orgasm, and as if we're connected not just in the physical way were are now, but in some other more... I don't know, just more sort of way, he orgasmed as I did.

He slipped out of me and wrapped me up in his warm, strong arms, cradling me.

As we lie there, together, the sun rose above the city skyline.


*silence* ... So, what's the verdict: hit or miss?

I'd like to thank vampiremama1/readingmama for being an awesome, speedy Beta again. Seriously, check her out. She writes too, so give her some love.

And lastly, your listening material for the fic:

Doll Parts by Hole

Paranoid Android by Radiohead

Everloving by Moby

xo, Sam