Friday, May 10, 2013

TLS's Flash-Fic Fridays are in full effect! Come and see who's flashing us this week: 5/10 - 5/15



Each Friday a new prompt will be posted along with the previous week's winners

What exactly is a Flash-Fic? It's pretty much a spur of the moment, tiny story, prompted by words, images or silliness. Not sure if you've ever been on twitter when this has happened, but it's pretty awesome when it does. It also happens often in threads, with a combination of people contributing. 

How does it work? Each Friday one admin of TLS posts a picture prompt here to the blog. Using this image, entries are created. Entries must be 100-300 words ONLY. No more, no less. The entries are then judged and we post the winning submissions here, each Friday, to share with all of you.


You will have until next Wednesday at 9 p.m. EST to submit your entry.

Picture prompt and judge the week of 5/10 - 5/15 is by Obsmama.

 Please leave your submission in the comment section at the bottom of the post using this format:

Your name (use your Twitter, Facebook or FFN name)

Your link to your FFN profile if you choose to share it

Number of submission. Example: #1

Submissions will be judged on Thursdays and on Friday the winning entry will be posted here, on the TLS blog. 

This feature is open to everyone, so come one, come all!



 DH78 on FFN, DH__78 on Twitter, Diamond Hart on FB
Word Count: 297

Eighteen years.

It took us eighteen years to get here.

I remember it like it was yesterday.

You were ten and I was eight. Our parents took us to see it.

We were obsessed and you swore you were Buzz.

“To infinity and beyond!” We’d shout.

A sort of affirmation of being best friends.

I loved you then. You didn’t. I’m certain of it. But I didn’t mind.

Best friends. To infinity and beyond.

Years later, you took her to prom. Not me. But it didn’t matter because at the end of the night, it was you and me, drunker than drunk off your big brother’s stash, at the tattoo parlor.

It was so stupid... but so, so perfect.

To infinity and beyond. You said it was the right way to end this era and move on to our new lives miles apart.

I was losing you. I loved you then. You didn’t. I know it.

We moved on.

Emails, texts, phone calls. At once so frequent, then not.

Years went by without a word from you.

All the others were mere poor imitations of you.


Your brother’s wedding. I’m invited. I wonder if I’ll see you, if you’ll be different.

If this love is just an exaggeration of my memories.

But then, it’s so not.

You see me, I see you... from across the room. Like magnets.

You’ve changed, but you’re the same.

Words, apologies, and electricity. That’s what we are.

“I love you then,” you say. And I’m floored.

“I love you still,” you say, much later when we’re skin to skin.

Your fingers trace the words on my skin, trailing delicious fire, and I trace your words.

The branding of our skin echoing what’s been branded in our souls.

To infinity and beyond.

Word Count: 300

He was seventeen when she met him, all loose limbs and sweat and red dirt, a faded Cubbies shirt, baseball cap spun backwards while the pitching machine hummed. His jaw edged so dark she could almost feel the sandpaper rasp on her fingers, hair damp and curled up the sides of his hat, the pink of his tongue wet as he tensed for the next pitch.

She stood shy behind the bleachers. Breathless.

"Come here," he called softly, watching her too.

He made a show of twirling the bat before solemnly pointing it into the sunset. "For you," he said, winking, when a tremendous crack echoed around the field and then the ball was soaring, soaring into infinity and she bet no one ever found it.

They were lying on his bed when she asked why he always did that, what it meant to point his bat toward the heavens.

“To infinity and beyond,” he’d answered, green eyes playful. A Sharpie cap bobbed from the corner of his mouth as he drew a tiny baseball on her stomach. “It’s my thing... like a promise. I aim, then I hit a home run." He'd shrugged and nibbled his artwork.

Two years later she watches TV as she packs away her childhood. Youngest player ever to be signed, ESPN says. 9.9 million for five years.

She already knew.

Swallowing hard, she wonders how much of him she'll be able to keep.

“They called me Roy Hobbs,” he says, shining, bursting through the doorway. “The best that ever was.”

“Cuter than Robert Redford,” she adds with a watery smile, loving him too much. “To infinity.”

He sobers, his gaze holding a promise so rich her heart twists, almost afraid to hope.

“Beyond,” he whispers, pulling her in, kissing, pressing a ring into her palm.

Word count: 227

Finding relief under the warm spray, my fingers find the words.

To infinity.

My half of the promise.

The promise of us.

And I’ve come to learn, we are infinite.

Never ending.


And beyond.


The words you took with you.

They couldn’t be any truer. And now, they’re all I have to hold on to.

I know you’re still here.

Some nights I wake to the feel of fingers.


A whisper on my skin where the other half of us lies marked.

The way my skin responds, I know.

At times I think I’m dreaming. So I lie there, oh, so still. Desperate to stay in an alternate reality.

A reality I yearn to have back.

Last night I woke to the sensation of my hair being smoothed over.

The softest touch.

The most calming.

And I know.

I know what I have to do.


My last hope sits before me on the bed.

The beyond that took me a long time to come to terms with.

It had to be here.

This is where we knew each other best.

Where we learned everything there was to know about one another.

Inside and out.

Shaking, I place my fingers on the planchette, ready.

With a heart that’s about to beat out of my chest, I take a chance.


Boom-Boom Jones
Word Count: 300

She’s been in remission for a year now. Her thinner hair touches her shoulders and her skin finally resembles what it was before. She can breathe and sleep and eat. At twenty-six, her bones are healthy as they can ever be, and it is a gift.

She’s promised herself she won’t ever be afraid.

The plane ascends, jostling passengers as it breaks through a layer of clouds. Her ears pop. She plugs them with her fingers, widens her jaw in a way that is unattractively excessive. The man across the aisle throws a crooked grin her way then offers up a stick of gum.

A flight attendant solicits snacks, and the man hands over ten dollars for two rum and Cokes.

Pretzels, too, please.

He moves to the empty seat next to her.

A child’s movie plays on the screen – something about a cowboy and a spaceman. She’s not really sure. Neither is he.

They talk about little somethings. Her ribs cage in acrobatic butterflies. He wonders where she’s staying, if she’s meeting anyone there.

Five hours later they awaken to the announcement that the weather at Heathrow is a perfect thirteen degrees Celsius. They’ll be landing shortly. She slides open the shade, peers through the window.

He cranes his neck, searching for proof they truly are over part of Europe. He’s not disappointed when he catches a glimpse of the Thames. It’s his first time, too.

“I am in love,” she says, staring out at the rapidly approaching city.

“How many times do you plan to fall?”

The question doesn’t catch her off guard.

She turns to him. “So many.”

He slides his hand over hers.

She’s been in remission for nearly two years. He slips her shirt over her head, traces the words scripted over her butterfly cage.

Word Count: 262

I shoot myself up with heroin and fuck a girl who looks just like you.

Her brand tastes like shit.

Her pussy smacks of low grade trash someone cooked in a bathtub. Her mouth is a big black hole. Her tits are lopsided and her hair isn’t long enough, but she has your eyes and a ring through her clit and I just can’t fucking help myself.

You always accused me of being an addict. I never told you that you were better than any drug.

I dig my fingers into her, bite her, treat her worse than I ever treated you but only because she’s asking me for it. Begging. Relishing every painful mark I leave behind. I slap her hard enough to leave a bruise and think about the one you left on my face, just before you vanished.

Since you’ve been gone, I’ve replaced all my blood with chemicals. All my love with lust. All my decency with this strung-out version of me and I can’t even bring myself to give a shit.

If I squint, I can pretend that she is you.

If I bury my face deep enough, I don’t have to squint at all.

Nothing relieves the ache. Nothing compares to your poison. Even when she cums on my face, it’s your taste. Even when she moans my name, it’s your voice. Over and over and over and I’m shooting for infinity. Shooting for beyond. Shooting for a million more moans. I don’t want to hear anything else, ever again.

Her words. Your voice.


The Lemonade Stand would like to thank all of the participants. We thoroughly enjoyed ALL of the entries!

See you next week!



  1. All of these are amazing. I wish I could write. So thank you to those who can.

  2. becky_rtgirl on twitter/rtgirl on FFn
    word count: 291

    “Lie to me again,” she whispered.
    “I love you,” he said.
    It didn’t sound like a lie.
    The way he kissed her, slowly sliding his lips down the column of her neck, nipping, tasting her skin from ear to collarbone, didn’t feel like a lie.
    But how could it possibly be the truth, after all she’d put him through? After the lie she’d told him?
    It’s not yours.
    But the baby could have never been anyone else’s.
    He was her first, her only.
    But she wanted so much more for him than to be tied down in a small town to a country girl with no future.
    She pushed against his chest, needing air, but praying for assurance.
    “You can’t want this…want me…after everything. I’m no good for you. You could be so much more without us.”
    He shook his head slowly, his lop-sided grin equally as lazy.
    “Don’t you get it? You are everything. Both of you. If I don’t have you, nothing else is worth it and then what will all these past months have been for?”
    She toyed with a stray string on the pocket of his worn t-shirt, his heartbeat wild beneath her fingertips.
    “How can you be so sure?”
    “I’ve known since we were ten and you knocked on my front door. You held a plate of cookies that your mom sent to welcome the new neighbors.”
    She leaned her forehead against his chest.
    “This won’t be easy,” she murmured.
    Strong fingers slid gently beneath her chin, tilting her eyes toward his.
    “No. But it’ll be worth it.”
    “I love you,” she whispered.
    “Then never lie to me again,” he said.
    “Never,” she promised; her words and kisses filled with nothing but truth from then on.

  3. Agrutle on twitter/ffn and Gayle Whitlock on FB
    Word count: 298

    I had known Edward Cullen since he and I were eight years old. He was my brother Emmett’s best friend, so he was around all the time. It was about that time that I became fascinated with him. I wouldn't call it love, more like hero worship.

    He thought I was the biggest nuisance in the world up until we were in high school. It was there that the hero worship became a teenage crush and consequently lust. We couldn't keep our hands off of each other. I knew we would last forever, go to college together, get great jobs,get married and live happily ever after.

    Sometimes though that isn't the way things go, other forces choose the way things happen. We did go to college together but Edward got a great job after in another state and he told me that the space would be good for us, and he didn't want me to go with him. He said he didn't love me anymore.

    He left and I was heartbroken. I went to work and I came home, and that is all I did. How could he say for so long that he loved me and then just leave after all we had shared?

    Two years passed and I was on my way back to our home town for my brother and his sister’s wedding. I knew I would see him and it scared the hell out of me because I still loved him even after all he’d done and how long it had been.

    When I saw him, and the look in his eyes I knew he still loved me and had lied. He reached for me and we fell into each others arms.

    “Lie to me again” I cried.

    “I love you.” he whispered.

  4. VissiCaze
    Word Count: 176

    Lies were always easier than the truth; he had been telling them for years each new one rolling off easier and more believable than the last. Until he didn't even know where the truth started and he ended.

    There was only one lie in his entire twenty - five years that left a bitter taste right down to his stomach because that was the only lie that he wished had been the truth.

    She saw through him from the start, straight though the name he had given her with a smile. Not once since that night did he lie again, he had nothing to gain and neither did she. The words that flowed between them were seamless, filled with omitted truths and vague details.

    She said when he lies his left eyes sparkles a little more than his right, she asked him to lie again, so he did.

    "I Love you" he said.

    Her smile was blinding, full of pride and his was a little darker, and how he wished this lie had been the truth.

  5. Musical_Voice on Twitter
    MusicalVoice on FFN (
    Word count: 274
    Submission #1


    “The date was awful,” she said as she stripped off her shirt. “Total dud. I don’t know why Kevin was under the impression I wanted to hear about rebuilding his engine, but he was seriously deluded.”

    Edward watched her take off each heel and her jeans without breaking stride. He lied when he promised himself he wouldn’t let this happen again, that he needed for her to see how much he cared about her. In the end, Bella won out. She always did.

    “I couldn’t wait to get to your apartment,” she said, pushing him back onto the bed and roughly taking off his shirt. “You don’t know how much I needed this. Needed you.”

    “I always need you,” he said as he firmly held her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “It should’ve been me taking you out tonight.”

    “But I came home to you, isn’t that what matters?” she asked, slipping out of his grip and grinning slyly as she deftly removed his belt and jeans.

    Three weeks. Three weeks in a row Bella had gone out with men who meant nothing to her only to show up at Edward’s apartment and spend the night with him. She knew how he felt, but it wasn’t enough for her. This would have to be enough for him until she changed her mind.

    “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he said as she straddled him, lightly cupping the side of her face as he finally slid into her.

    “Lie to me again,” she whispered.

    “I love you,” he said sadly.

    He knew she didn’t believe him yet, but someday… someday she would.

  6. CrackedFic on Twitter and ffn
    296 words

    Once upon no time in a land of no wishes a boy with no truth bumped into a star.

    "Pardon me," he said with a smirk.

    "Yes yes," said the star. "Is that a question or an answer?"

    "I should hope a request, Madame," he said with a sparkle.

    "Yes yes you should," she said back to him with her back to him. "I most certainly hope so."

    "Shall I go then?" the boy said in earnest, very earnestly.

    "Not yet," she said and she turned back around. "Dance in flip flops and festoon the unicorns with glitter."

    The star sighed and slumped, which pleased the mischievous boy to no good end.

    He danced and he pulled glitter from the air and sparkle rained and the unicorns galloped and smiled like a throng of forgiven mystics.

    "May I tell you a lie?" the boy said to the star.

    "You must," the fallen star replied to the boy with a dazzle, for she had not been lied to in ages, so strong was the desire for wishes among those who believed truth was what she wanted to hear.

    "I am not a boy who longs for wishes," the boy blurted out.

    "And I am a star with no wishes left," the star shot back. She liked this ping-pong of lies.

    "I never lie," said the boy.

    "And I am unbroken," she retorted.

    He smiled at her and she glowed at him.

    "Lie to me again," she whispered.

    The boy thought and thought and he came upon the biggest lie of all and he gasped at its power for he knew he had won because the only lies that matter are those we believe because we are broken.

    "I love you," he said, and he collected his wish.

  7. teamedwardalways on FFN, teamedwardalwys on Twitter,
    Number of submission:#1
    Word Count: 299

    Those three words echo in my head. Rolling around, bouncing between every nerve, making me feel alive and dead at the same time. I’m trying to process what he’s just said, what he’s admitted, and the lie he tells me— he loves me, but that’s impossible. I can’t be loved. I’ve never been loved. He. Doesn’t. Love. Me. I am the girl with the impenetrable exterior, whose heart is made of stone, who doesn’t get emotional, whose face remains stoic under all circumstances. And yet, as he tells me he loves me my façade begins to crack.

    “Lie to me again,” I whisper to him.

    “I love you,” he simply says, his eyes focused on mine, penetrating right into me.

    I squeeze my eyes shut and shaking my head. “No you don’t.”

    No one does. No one ever will. He doesn’t. He can’t.

    A dry, irritating lump whittles its way into my throat. My insides twist, shake and burn with something I’ve never felt before.

    “A lie,” the two words come out in a breath, barely audible to anyone, but he’s not anyone—I know he hears.

    I suddenly feel enclosed—confined and normally I would push against the infringing element, but I can’t, my body is in control and it knows it’s him—it wants him, it needs him.

    Strong arms wrap around me and pull me against his chest. “I love you,” he whispers into my hair and gently kisses my head. In an instant my resolve shatters into a billion pieces and my dam breaks. Every emotion pours forth and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

    “I love you,” he puts those three words on repeat…until…

    I echo them back and for the first time I don’t believe the lie—I feel the truth.

  8. Twitter: @k8ln713
    Word Count: 298


    All we had between us were lies.

    I don’t think there was ever a time that we were truthful with each

    Normally, I’d lie about my emotions or how I spent my day, just because he would be overbearing.

    He’d lie to me about not being with other women while with me.

    I hated it.

    I realized I’d fallen in love with him.

    I loved him despite him being an asshole.

    I just don’t like the lies.

    Today he found me in my meadow smoking a blunt.

    He collapsed onto the grass. Then he was on top of me, kissing me, sucking on my neck and then bit it.

    Then he fucked me… nice and rough.

    Even though it felt so good and he smelled like another woman, this mystery woman’s perfume permeating the air around me.

    Now that I knew I loved him, I didn't like the lies or him fucking around. I wanted him to only want me.

    I mentioned it.

    We fought.

    I slapped him.

    He spat nasty words at me and spewed even more lies to me.

    I loved him, but not the lies.

    I didn't want to stay with him if all he’d do was lie.

    He told me I wasn't allowed to leave him.

    “Try me,” I said.

    “You can’t leave me.”

    “Okay… then lie to me again and you’ll see what happens.”

    He was silent for a few seconds before speaking up.

    And his words almost knocked me off my feet.

    “I love you.”

    I could tell that was no lie. He wasn't meaning to tell me a lie.

    Just the truth.

    For the first time. Ever.

    I leaned in and kissed him.

    “I love you, too.”

    “Stay with me,” he whispered. “And I promise… no more lies.”


  9. @sparrownotes24

    Word Count: 300

    I beg you to save me from this. From him.

    The man who's trapped me in his underworld nightmare for years.

    His dark and cold sharklike eyes watch you. Waiting.

    He smiles when you press cold steel to my temple.

    My breath catches, blood freezes, hope dies.

    "Why?" I ask you.

    The sharp click of the safety deafens me.

    "Collateral damage. You know too much."

    "You were never going to help me?"

    "No." Your voice is black ice. Treacherous.

    "Everything was a lie?"


    A laugh bubbles up, choking me. "Lie to me again."

    "I love you."

    You both laugh at the cruel words, and I know I'm going to die.

    I close my eyes to the curled sneer of the man I'll never be free from. To look at him is unbearable.

    "I trusted you."

    "You shouldn't have."

    I see now every whispered word, every secret shared, was a stroke of ink on my death warrant.

    You are my fatal attraction.

    "Kill her," he says.

    My heart collapses.

    Tears fall as memories disintegrate to dust. The heat of your lips against my skin, touches that consumed me as much as your promises. Too much and not enough.

    A thousand decibels rip through me.



    I wake with you by my side, reaching to trace my finger along the dark line of your jaw, making sure this isn't a dream.

    "You said you didn't love me?"

    "Bella, I fell in love with you the moment you smiled at me."

    You brush the back of your fingers across my cheek to ease my confusion. "The truth was less dangerous than the lie."

    "What was the lie?"

    "I was."

    You show me your badge.

    Detective Edward Cullen.

    You tell me it's over. I'm safe.

    You killed him. You broke your cover, for me.

  10. Mrs. Peanut Butter
    Word count: 300

    My tears fell silently, as silently as my heart breaking- all over again. I thought I could handle this. Handle seeing him. Handle hearing his laugh. Handle seeing his smile. All while knowing it's not for me.

    In high school, you were my everything. Now, 5 years later, even at our high school reunion, you still are. I sit in the corner of the bar, quietly observing you while Jessica chatters in my ear.

    When you told me you loved me, I believed you. I never dreamed it'd be something as cliche as an immature bet you and your friends made. But it was. A week after I gave you my virginity, you had looked me in the eye and told me that it was all a lie. Every loving whisper was a carefully plotted scheme. Every single date, every single kiss, every single sweet thing you've ever done for me, all a lie . And after another week, you already had a new girl on your arm.

    Rising swiftly from the table, Jessica looked up quizzically. "Bella?" She questioned.

    "I'm going to the bathroom... to freshen up, " I answered lowering my head.

    Then, like a coward, I ran.


    I Iooked at my reflection. Same pale skin, same dull eyes. Taking out a tube of lipstick, I added another glossy coat on my lips. Taking a deep breath, I told myself that I could do this.

    Exiting the bathroom, I felt a pair of warm hands- your hands- clasp around my shoulder, pushing me against the wall. Your warm lips on mine sent my brain into a tailspin.

    "Lie to me again, " I said, breathing ragged. "I deserve this."

    He wrapped his arms around me and breathed, "I love you."

    I closed my eyes, content to believe him.

  11. Boom-Boom Jones
    Word Count: 300

    His wife died. Her husband did the same thing.

    Car accident. This big pile-up on the one-oh-one.

    They left them to fend for themselves.

    If only she hadn’t told him to hurry up and get home.

    If only he hadn’t fought with her that morning.

    Their hearts were open and full but then their hearts were ripped out of their chests and all that was left was a gaping hole and inside that hole a constant ache.

    They were told to try a support group, because alcohol and pills weren’t the answer. His sister made him go. Her therapist strongly suggested it, after her own accident. “Just go once, twice,” is what they said.

    It’d taken four meetings for her to say anything. He listened to some of it.

    After the fifth it’d rained, asphalt glistening beneath streetlamps. He sat on the curb outside the church, smoking. His pack was almost empty. He ignored the others as they dragged by to go to empty homes. She stopped and bummed a cigarette, and then they went to a bar.

    Support Group.


    Their routine for weeks until they quit group.

    They said fuck it and drank at home.

    They did this for months, a year.

    He stayed over. Her sheets smelled of him, distracting.

    His sister loathed her. Said, “You’re not moving on.”

    Her therapist said, “It’s self destructive.”

    They closed the door on the sister and the therapist.

    Numbness stitched up holes that choked.

    They had their unspoken rules. Knew what they needed.

    Another year and they still functioned. Still had jobs. Paid their bills, taxes. Ate.

    They had rules.

    Naked backs touched. “Lie to me again,” she whispered.

    “I love you,” he said.

    “Now the truth,” she said, phantom heart thumping.

    He couldn’t breathe. “I really don’t.”

    “Me either.”

  12. Sharon Henderson
    256 words

    He’s awake, running his hand slow and soft-tickling down my back to my ass, cupping and squeezing, then moving back up again. He reaches around and pulls me against him, holding me there. His breath on my neck is heavy.

    He moves his hand down my front now, skimming my breast with a light tug of my nipples. I push my ass back against him, spread my legs hoping he’ll slide inside. He doesn’t. He just slides his cock back and forth over my pussy, making me moan in pleasure and frustration.

    He’s always like this when our time is almost up. Slow and teasing. Touching me in a way that feels so much like making love, though we both know it isn’t. He was clear. This is casual. Nothing more.

    But, he knows that even though I agreed, I want more. So he gives it to me the only way he can.

    “Lie to me again,” I breathe out, overcome with the need to just hear it, those words from him. Only him.

    He pulls me onto my back and eases between my thighs pushing into me. I want this slow tender fuck. It makes it easier to pretend what he’s about to say is true.

    “I love you” he says. I close my eyes and let his words sink into the deepest parts of me and hold them there. Because the way he gazed into my eyes, the way he’s moving inside me, I believe it.

  13. @primarycolors1

    word count: 300

    We were always outside when the streetlights lit up, prowling the neighborhood in a pack of banana seat bikes and skateboards, popping wheelies behind the mosquito truck, light-headed, silly, laughing as we sped past the cemetery.

    Edward and I rested on the hill behind the gas station, letting the others go.

    I was glad I’d left my hair loose. Sometimes, if I stood close enough, Edward curled his fingers ‘round the ends. I’d loved him forever and he probably knew it, but nothin' had ever been said or done.

    “What’d y’have for dinner?” Edward asked, squinting into the sky like he couldn’t care less. He did though. He liked to live vicariously through my dinnertimes since he never had a proper sit-down himself, his mom working so much.

    “Daddy’s outa town,” I answered. “Em said I could do whatever I wanted so long as I don’t blab that his girlfriend is sleeping over in his room.” I cut my eyes over. “Maybe I’ll stay out all night. Smoke cigarettes and have Krispy Kreme for dinner.”

    “Nah you won’t,” he said, laughing.

    “I will!" I punched him on the arm for emphasis.

    He sat up suddenly, holding my hand tight to keep me from hitting him again. My stomach flipped at the way he leaned over me, eyes bright.

    “You won’t. You’re so…” he trailed off, swallowing hard.

    “What?” I frowned. “Goody-goody? I’m not, I—“

    “Pretty,” he said softly. “You’re so pretty.”

    “Shutup! That’s a lie, Edward Cullen.” My face was hot.

    He shook his head, bemused. “If you say so.”

    “Alright then,” I whispered. “Lie to me again.”

    Leaning close to my ear, “I love you.”


    “Shh,” he said, kissing the corner of my mouth. “Forgot to mention it’s opposite day.”

    “So that means—”

    “Not a lie.”


  14. Honeybeemeadows
    Word Count: 297

    Let’s face it.

    If I am a garden, my heart is full of weeds.

    The kind with pretty flowers that you don’t mind so much until there’s no stopping the ravenous consumption. There’s nothing left in my chest but a knotted ball of roots and dirt. My rib cage is held together with vines and when I wake up in the mornings, marigolds bloom out of my eyes.

    Sugar blossom skin that bruises easy as a poppy and tears that taste like candied violets.

    You can’t see past the flashy petals.


    “I have to tell you something.”

    “What’s that, Sugar Plum?” I lick my lips while she fiddles with the hem of her tank top and pulls it over her head.

    “I’m not who you think I am.” She drops it to the floor and I clamp my mouth shut, eyes on her face. “I’m a fake.” Off comes the short sleeve and she peels herself from her long sleeve. “It’s all just a show.” Reaches behind herself, unclasps her bra and dangles it from one finger before it joins the growing pile between us.

    Rose colored nipples and peach flavored skin.

    “Bella,” I try but she shakes her head. Drops her skirt and then her lacy slip. Pulls off her leg warmers. Struggles out of her tights. Steps free of her panties. Stands there with her eyes on the mountain of clothing between us.

    “I’m a liar.”

    “Honey, if this is lying, I hope you never stop.” I shake my head at her.

    “I’m too broken for you.”

    “Lies. Do it again.”

    “I can’t love you,” she pleads.


    “I’m not worth this.”

    “You’re such a liar.” I catch her in my arms before she wilts away. “I love you. And I’m not a liar.”

  15. Ange de l'aube


    Word count: 298

    There was nothing but shadows between them. Shadows of what could have been and wasn't.

    She had loved him forever. She still loved him in silence.

    It hurt to love him and hide it.

    "You should slow down," a friend shouted.

    She smirked and gulped the rest of her drink.

    "The night is young and so am I," was her reply as she watched the one man she had ever loved grinding against some bimbo.

    Liquid courage coursing through her veins, she raised herself from the sofa and decided that enough was enough.

    "Where are you going?" the same concerned friend asked. She knew the truth. Everyone but him knew how she felt. "Please don't do anything stupid," her friend added.

    Everyone knew she wouldn't listen. She was beyond the point of listening.

    She walked right up to him and pushed the bimbo away.

    "Wh--" He started but was cut off by the sudden way in which she pressed herself against him.

    She turned her body and rubbed her ass against his cock with purpose.

    He moaned as she wrapped her right arm around his neck.

    "You feel so damn good," he groaned.

    "Lie to me again," she whispered.

    "I love you," he said.

    She stiffened. She did not expect such cruel lie.

    He knew. He had to.

    "Please not that lie," she begged.

    "Look at me," he ordered.

    Face to face, his deep eyes fixed on her, he said, "It's not a lie. It's the only truth I have."

    "But--" He placed a finger against her lips.

    "I've been a fool. I want you. Please be mine. "

    She kissed the tip of his finger and whispered, "I've always been yours."

    She chanted the same words later that night while he fucked her against his bedroom door.

  16. @bebeginja
    Word count: 299

    I was 15 when I became addicted.

    A leather jacket, a dangling cigarette, the perfect timing of wandering eyes, and I was gone. His reputation didn’t matter. A sideways smirk was my undoing.

    For months his eyes pursued me. For the first time ever, I felt desired. Chosen. Even as I watched him walk with his arm around the others, saw them in his car, I still ached for the weight of his stare. The glance over his shoulder when he passed. There was always one for me.

    Of all the places to find hope, I put mine in the lies he told me with his eyes.


    I was 17 when I gave him my innocence. I convinced myself that I was the only one who mattered to him that night. I trembled as he hovered over me; his experienced hands caressed away my inhibitions.

    Every touch was a lie that told me he was all mine.

    He never has been, never will be. I’ve always known that.


    I’m 22 now and he’s packing his things. It hurts more than it should, but it’s never been about how much I can take. An addict never cares. My dependence has always been on what he might give.

    I’m always second to something. These days it’s his career.

    “You’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. We’ll get through this. Just let me work this shit out. I’ll be back, I will.”

    I wrap my arms around myself, clench my eyes shut. A last ditch attempt at self-preservation.

    But the addict needs one last fix.

    “Lie to me again,” I whisper.

    He puts his hand on the back of my neck and pulls me to him.

    “I love you.”

    I hold my breath as he kisses my forehead. And then he walks away.

  17. xxxKittyMasenxxx

    Word Count: 139

    Fifteen years ago she met the love of her life.

    Ten years ago she lost him.

    She doesn't know how she got here … to this point in time.

    Missing in action they told her.

    That may be true, but he was ever present in her dreams.

    The night-time her only constant solace.

    Five years ago she met her current partner.

    He knows.

    She doesn't feel the same way about him as he does about her.

    But he knows.


    A familiarity.

    That’s what it is.

    He tells her they will get there one day.

    Everything will be alright.

    But he’s lying.

    He reaches out and cups her cheek.

    Sighing she leans into his touch.

    Closing her eyes she imagines for a moment that it’s fifteen years ago.

    “Lie to me again” she whispered.

    “I love you” he said.