Friday, August 16, 2013

TLS's Flash-Fic Fridays are in full effect! Come and see who's flashing us this week: 8/16 - 8/21



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 by commenting on this post. Submissions must be 100-300 words ONLY. No more, no less. The entries are then judged and we post the winners here, each Friday, to share with all of you.


"If I love you, is that a fact or a weapon?"

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

Picture prompt and judge this week is VampiresHaveLaws.

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
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!



Word count: 291

“Just let me touch you.” You breathe in my ear. Your hands feather up my sides, cupping my breasts, the sensation shooting between my thighs like it’s the Fourth of July.

“We shouldn’t …” I bite my lip as the fingers of your right hand dance on my belly, just dipping inside the elastic of my panties. I can hear people outside the door, the murmuring of voices, the clinking of ice against glass. The party is still going strong. They’ll be looking for you at any minute, the genial host, the family man.

My father’s best friend.

“You’re so fucking sweet.” You place little butterfly kisses along my throat, your teeth nipping at my skin. “I need to taste you so bad.”

Your fingers dip farther still, making my body hum. You linger on the edge, long enough to make my hips roll to encourage you down, needing to feel you right there.

“Please.” Your lips capture mine and I moan into your mouth. You push down; cool fingers on slick heat, slipping and sliding. My eyes roll back as you play me like a finely tuned instrument. None of the boys at college even come close to your expertise.

“You don’t have to beg, sweetheart.” Your tongue pushes into my mouth at the same moment you plunge your fingers inside me. My back arches from the bed and I’m lost.

You drive me insane.

I can’t remember my name, or your name, or even why I’m here. I only know I never want this feeling to stop, never want to let you go. Fireworks explode behind my closed lids as pleasure whips my body. You silence my scream with your lips.

And then you do it all over again.


Word count: 292

This room is sweltering.

The triple digit numbers caused the brown out, but your naked skin brought the heat.

“Ugh, I can’t breathe. I need air,” you whined through a smile. The frayed denim shorts rushed down your legs a second before you tugged and yanked off your shirt.

“I never got ‘offending garment’ til now,” you tried to laugh as you stretched out on the bed. I paused to take in the sheen on your chest, your ribs and, the curve of your hip. I took in the swell of your breasts while you arched to twist your hair out of the way. I’d always loved to watch the motion, but moments like now? With you nearly naked?

I understood how keeping you covered was goddam offensive.

I stripped down to my straining boxer briefs, needing to feel you and get some relief, as my eyes ran over your skin. I started at the Peachy Breeze nail polish I’d put on you after slow, take all afternoon sex and scanned up your legs. Up to where pale pink met heaven at a tiny bow before they flashed to your hooded ones. I twined myself around you on top of the sheets.

The fan’s blades hung motionless. The curtains stood still without a breeze to dance to, but my fingers swayed. First, tiny shifts back and forth over your elbow while you shifted and sighed before long strides up over your arm. I dipped down your collar bone and your chest rose. Tightened nipples came up as I swept down to capture them. I cupped and squeezed until your steady touch guided me home. I knew it then.

The air in this room is stifling, but you leave me struggling for breath.


Word Count: 295

The bronze and green dancing in my brain swirl into grey, as I open my eyes and squint against the blinding yellow that beams through the window.

Images of my dream fade and I groggily fumble around for my tank top, having discarded it in the sticky summer night.

Head pounding, memory blank.

I climb out of bed, not quite awake, ready to make a hasty exit from this nameless stranger's embrace.

I'm startled by a tug to my shoulder and pulled back into bed.
A calloused hand palms my breast, the contrast of his rough skin on mine sending shivers down my spine.

Sensations sharpen as a single digit traces the lace edge of my underwear. Flames lick across my skin, my body blazing under his touch as his finger explores my flesh.




Heightening my awareness, rousing the ache inside me.

The previous night comes rushing back.

He arrived drunk and sad because she broke things off.

We downed shots and cursed her name.

We got smashed and stumbled into bed.

Now, in the stark sober light of of day, his green eyes bore into mine and my heart skips a beat as more memories crash through my mind.

His hands in my hair, on my face, his lips on my shoulder, whispering that he wanted me.

That he needed me.

That it had always been me.

That she was just a distraction.

Words that I realise now weren't part of my dream.

My hand on his halts his movement. "Edward..."

"Please," he rasps, as his hand moves below the fabric, dipping into where I'm dripping for him. "Please, Bella. I've wanted this for so long."

My lips taste his, long, slow and torturous.

As if I would ever deny him.

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


  1. If these were, and I quote, "spur of the moment, tiny story, prompted by words, images or silliness" what would you ladies deliver if you had lots of time to think!!! I'm in awe ladies. All three were awesome and I'm certainly glad that I was not one of the judges. Congrats to you all!!! :D

  2. @GeekChic12FF
    Word count: 300

    "Please don't do this," he said as I threw my clothes into our biggest suitcase. "Don't do this to me. To us."

    "There is no us, Edward," I hissed back at him. "You made sure of that." I started grabbing shoes from the closet and tossing them into a bag. "There's only you and what works for you. What I want obviously doesn't fucking matter."

    "It's only for a year. I can't just turn my back on them." He gripped his hair in both hands. "Once she finishes school and gets on her feet, they'll move out and everything will go back to normal."

    "Ha. Normal. Can't you see what she's doing? Using your own daughter to wheedle herself into our life?" I asked, desperate for him to see. "You've never been able to fucking say no to her."

    "She is the mother of my child!" he roared at me. And I knew then that I'd completely lost him. If I'd ever truly had him in the first place.

    Shaking my head, I started zipping up the bags I'd packed. I couldn't be stuck in this sinkhole of a relationship any longer.

    I'd tried.

    God, how I'd tried.

    But I was never enough.

    Maybe if I'd popped out a kid, he'd look at me the way he looked at her. But it was too late for all of that now.

    Just as I was gathering everything to leave, there was a knock on the door.

    "They're early," Edward muttered.

    "Well, don't let me interrupt this lovely family reunion. I'll just be going."

    I swung the door open and looked into two sets of big brown eyes and rolled my own eyes.

    "Hi, Kate," she said quietly. Always so meek.


    "Bella," I sneered. "He's all yours. Have a nice life."

    Word Count: 253
    "If I love you, is that a fact, or a weapon?"

    You always had a funny way of showing your affection.

    As though you knew a language, but forgot all the words. Lost the ability to speak, even though nothing was wrong with your tongue. Just stared at me with raging emerald eyes and your tongue tied between your teeth like stitches holding together a wound.

    Scarred across the mouth and right through the very center of your heart.

    “Everything about you is infuriating,” you say and I wither, a flower caught under the baking rays of the run. “I didn’t want to do this,” you whisper and I fold, an origami creature smashed flat under your weight. “You made me fall for you,” you hiss and I shatter, the slow motion view of a bullet through a water balloon.

    When you tie me down, it’s your adoration speaking.

    When you blindfold me, it’s your lust.

    When you wrap your palms around my neck and fuck me with no air, it’s love.

    You still haven’t said the words, but I know they’re there, somewhere. Between my skin and the metal around my wrists. Beneath the silk of your blindfold, dipped in acid truth and my eyes can see everything, even in the dark. The gag in my mouth tastes of stone-washed regret and I wonder why you can’t just say it. Why you can’t show me in a way that doesn’t involve weapons and handcuffs.

    Body armor and a battle plan.

    I am a prisoner of your war.

    I’ve already given myself up.

  4. @JennaReads
    Word Count: 298

    Funny how time can shudder to stop, a tiny breath, a tortuous frozen instant when you reach a pivotal shift in your reality.

    A light mist coated the quiet street and my skin, chilling, moist, bitter. Better to hear the sound of my heart ripping wide, I suppose.

    I stared through open blinds at one of the dozen quaint little tables in the quaint little cafe. Jake leaned across the white Formica and pressed a kiss to Leah Clearwater's lips. As though he had to taste her now, this very instant, couldn't wait until the hindrance of the table was removed.

    I stood in pained stillness, my breath fogging the window, but not enough to obscure the couple holding hands inside.

    No, I wouldn't be so lucky.

    Someone jostled against my shoulder in passing, but my gaze didn't falter from the pair. A quaint little bell tinkled as the stranger opened the door, the chime harsh in my frozen quiet. Jake looked toward the sound. I felt the burn of his gaze the instant he saw me, fiery and excruciating, even as the icy mist coated my skin. He shoved away from the table, said something to her, then strode quickly to me.

    Too late.

    He stood beside me—not true. I'd always been one step behind, never more proof than the dark-haired girl waiting patiently for my boyfriend inside that cafe.

    He stood near me, his voice low, intense. “Bella.”

    I shook my head.

    He reached for me, tried to pull me into an embrace.

    He would lie. Tell me he loved me, that I was reading the situation wrong. My naive love for him his greatest weapon against me. If I loved him, after all, I would trust him.

    I sucked in the frigid Washington air. “No.”

  5. @DH__78
    Word count: 300


    “You so did.”

    “I don’t remember it that way at all.”

    “You have selective memory. You weren’t as cool as you think you were.”

    “What? I was cool... enough,” I say, not very convincingly.

    She eyes me with that “aww, poor thing” expression. I get that a lot.

    “Aw, you think you were cool. That’s cute.” She unpacks groceries. “Why don’t you tell me your version?”

    “Easy. I did my grand gesture thing and you swooned all over the place. You couldn’t resist my charm.”

    She was in my history class sophomore year. I fell for her the moment she sat next to me with her swooshy ponytail and Bambi eyes as she asked me for a pen.

    I was paralyzed. I wanted to tell her how beautiful I thought she was. How I could totally see her mothering my children.

    But even someone socially inept like me knew saying things like that was generally frowned upon.

    Luckily, she smiled and simply took one of the pens lined up in a row on my desk.

    A week later, after a bit of liquid courage, I asked her on a date. She said yes.

    I loved her. I never told her.

    A year later she was tired of being the one to say everything. She was going to break up with me.

    I begged her to stay.

    “Stay with me. I love you. So much it physically hurts my heart to imagine my life without you.”

    I blurted it out and hugged her. Hard.

    Bella’s right. I totally smooshed her. I was awkward.

    “Best day ever.”

    “It was,” Bella’s voice brings me back, eyes shimmering happy tears. I take her in my arms and kiss her.

    Breaking from me her fingers caress my scruff.

    “Now go change your daughter’s diaper.”

  6. @sparrownotes24
    Word Count: 300

    The knowledge you can't have something makes the unattainable shine.

    It lures you with curls brushing the delicate skin of bare shoulders, lips wrapping around words that steal your attention, bright eyes holding a thousand promises across your heart.

    "Maybe you could come by the coffee shop sometime, Edward?"

    She's a break in the clouds, a caress of wind on a deep summer’s day.

    Everything I need.

    Everything I can't have.

    "I'm not sure that's a good idea." I hate the lines of disappointment I’ve etched onto her face.

    "I'm sorry that was inappropriate."

    Her embarrassment is unnecessary. I want to tell her I think about her when I shouldn't, picture her smile when I'm alone.

    "No I’m sorry. I should go." I wish she could see every facet of my apology.

    There are so many.


    She's kept her vigil, curled on the window seat.

    Her breath frosts the glass where she traces patterns, eyes glittering navy blue in the dim light. "I've missed you."

    "I'm home now." I pull her into my lap. Relief wilts her body while guilt settles heavy in my chest—bleak as the snow covered garden.

    "Remember when I lost control and crashed my car into the crab-apple?"

    Memories of the night I’d forgotten to call home shudder deep in my bones.

    "Yes." My voice croaks, breaks, cracks.

    "The tree hasn’t blossomed since. Do you think I killed it?"

    Love for her strangles the answer in my throat. "No, you didn't."

    In weighted silence, I trace the silver scars on her arm, translucent in the moonlight. My penance for the night I stayed out too late.

    This love binds us in shackles that maim and slice. She believes holding my heart is worth more than the beat of hers.

    So, I let her crush it.

  7. @chocaholic12345
    Word Count 297

    It starts with a rose; fleshy, red petals laying softly on the porch. She picks it up, inhaling the sweet, fresh fragrance. Carrying it into the house, she places it in a glass of water. A smile curls at her lips.

    Weeks pass. She finds more gifts; old, dusty books, classics she has loved. She opens them and motes dance in shafts of light, particles itch her nose.

    Then a note. Lipstick smeared on dirty glass.

    I love you.

    Months pass. From the corner of her eye she sees a dark-haired stranger, the blur of a car as it accelerates away from her house. She pulls her collar up, keeps her head down. Wishes herself invisible.

    A newspaper cut up to form new words.

    You’re mine.

    Spring becomes summer. Windows are flung open, doors left unlocked. A doll on her wrinkled bedcovers, its once shiny, brown hair has been ruthlessly chopped, body mutilated. She comes home late from work to find the stove burning hot, a stainless steel pot full of steaming, bubbling water. She is too afraid to look inside.

    A note next to it, this time handwritten. Only one word.


    This time she calls the cops. They laugh.

    Years pass. Plump thighs turn slender then thin, lush hair becomes lank. Her natural posture is stooped, body shaking like an old man. Her eyes dart from left to right, rarely meeting anybody’s gaze.

    Work is her only escape. She arrives early, leaves late, is grateful for the security guards. Her computer screen is her friend, until the day an IM slams onto her screen, making her heart drop.

    I love you.

    She leaves the office that night, her body weary, her gait slow. He waits. She walks. He wields love like a sick weapon. It burns.

  8. @everydaybella89
    Words: 208

    “Bella, love, please just let me explain.”

    “I don’t know why I should. You’ve made it clear what you want.”

    I pushed myself to my feet and rushed toward the diner’s front door. I had to get out of there before I cried. Edward had made it clear what he wanted and it wasn’t me. I wasn’t going to make him try to comfort me. Ben and Jerry’s could do that later.

    I had just made it out the door when I felt fingers grab my elbow. “Bella, stop. I need to tell you...”

    “What? That I’m not enough? That I’m just your fling and now it’s time to go home? That you don’t love me? Spare me the trouble and just let me go.”

    “Bella, listen to me. I do love you. I do want you. You are enough for me. I want you to come with me.”

    He stopped for a half a moment, and perhaps he saw the pain in my eyes. He rushed forward and before I knew it his lips were on mine. He kissed me breathless.

    I threw myself into him. I still didn’t believe him but I was going to make this worth it.

    Why did love have to hurt so much?

    1. awwwwww i loved that one ... and it's the most fitting to the prompt so far :) good luck

    2. Boo Iwmec

      "It's over."

      I know it's cowardly to do this here, out in the open, but I'm too scared to do it when it's just the two of us. When he can put his hands on and in me, make me forget my own name and agree to just about anything that crosses his mind.

      "Excuse me?" He can't comprehend this. Like he doesn't believe I've dared to do it.

      "I can't do this anymore."

      He laughs.
      But I don't mistake the fire in his eyes. It makes me step back.

      "Is that so?" He steps forward.

      "Yes." I swallow, "You're too controlling, Edward. And this jealousy thing is ridiculous; you can't punch every single person who so much as says hello to me."

      "I can and I will,” He growls.

      I ball my fists. “Well, I’m breaking up with you.” I say through clenched teeth, when I see his smirk I rush, “I mean it this time.”

      Suddenly his arms are clawing at me, pushing my body flush with his. I try to be limp, but when his lip ghost over my ear and his hands slide to my ass I swallow nervously.

      “You’re mine.” He whispers and I shudder.

      “You’re mine and you love it. You can pretend all you want. You and I both know It’s bullshit. late at night, when I strip you, tie you up and fuck you so hard you can’t even find your voice to scream. Then you’ll know that I own you,”

      “Mind.” His hand tugs roughly at my hair and shakes my head.

      “Body.” His other hand pinches my ass cheek and pushes my lower half to feel his very prominent erection.

      “And soul.” He finishes with his tongue invading my mouth and proving that it’s a battle I know I’ve lost.

  9. I love the third one!

  10. @sparklymeg
    Word Count:297

    “Please, don’t go.” He pulls me into his arms and clings to me like I’m the last person on earth. He buries his nose in my hair, his lips tracing my jaw. “Please,” he rasps. “Please.” He sucks my earlobe into his mouth and my resolve almost crumbles.

    My knees go weak as his kisses and nibbles trigger a slideshow of memories in my mind. The last time we were together plays across my vision, and I can’t see anything but us.

    His kisses, his hands all over me. The way he teases me, brings me to the precipice of ecstasy before retreating, only to begin the torture all over again. My body shudders when he finally sends me over the edge, with dirty whispers and sweet nothings in my ear.

    His is the sweetest kind of torture, the most luscious affliction. He fucks me so good, makes me burn so hot. And afterwards I’m like ice.

    “Just sex, no strings,” I’d said. I liked my life the way it was.

    He’s melted the ice, and I don’t think he even knows it.

    He’s everything I’ve ever desired and nothing I should dare to hope for. I’ve fallen hard for him, and I need to protect my fragile heart before he can tear it in two.

    He would never feel the same. Could never fall for me.

    His scent washes over me and I beg him, “I can’t. I can’t do this anymore.”

    “Do what?”

    “This. Us. I can’t lie to you anymore, I can’t lie to myself.”

    His eyes burn me. “So don’t lie.”


    He swallows my words with a kiss so tender, like warm honey on my tongue.

    “I love you,” he whispers, before capturing my lips again.

    And then I’m not afraid.

  11. @boomboom_jones
    Word Count: 185

    "If I love you, is that a fact or a weapon?"

    You don't understand what I mean. Your face is hard. Unreadable. Deliberate.

    You reach out to touch my hand. I pull it away.

    We used to live in a bubble made from stone. It's almost like we're there now, but the bubble is translucent. I'm aware what's on the other side.

    You begin to speak and I beg for you to tell me what I need to hear. You close your mouth. I want your lips on my neck. Don't say it. It's all wrong, isn't it?

    Press my cheek to your leather jacket, let me smell wood and winter. Mask the exhaust in this parking lot.

    Let's pretend for a while. Cover my ears with your hands. Take me away and unbutton my blouse then say things you'd never say anywhere else.

    Your expression is here and now and it kills me.



    "Fact or weapon?" My god, I don't even recognize my own voice.

    A million seconds pass before you say, "I don't know." And then you admit, "Both. Mass destruction."