Friday, September 20, 2013

It's Flash Fic Friday!

Picture prompt and Judge this week is: Twilover76


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

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!


I gotta say... I didn't think I was going to have any entries at all. And then... you guys surprised me. Thanks to everyone who took the time to drop by and show me your words. Some of you had me wanting to track you down and pm you immediately, to beg for more. I wanted Max-fic and you over-delivered. I love these entries. You're all winners. 

1st Place:
Word Count: 300

He's standing in the corner when I see him. There's a cigarette resting on his bottom lip, and his thick, sandy hair is fucked up from too much raking. Somebody touches his arm; sharp, red talons curling around him like he's prey, and I have to stop myself from screaming.

A softer touch on my own wrist; I turn to see my son looking at me. "I was wondering when you'd get here."

I swallow down the bile that's rising up my throat and turn to Jack, smiling at his happy face. "It's your degree exhibition, Sweetheart. I wouldn't miss a thing."

"Did you see Max's stuff?" He points to the nudes hung around the room. They're perfect; pale pink flesh brought to life by a master.

"They're good," I murmur, feeling strange when I see my own body reflected back at me over and over again. "But not as good as yours."

Jack laughs loudly. "He's out of my league."

Him and me both.

I spend the evening hiding, stepping behind installations, avoiding his notice. It almost works, until Jack's tutor spots me. His loud hail causes everybody to stare.

But cerulean blue is all I can see.

The world stops. Clocks don't tick, rivers don't run. I stand like a frightened deer when his eyes catch mine. He walks toward me, his swagger cocky and knowing. I grip my glass so tightly it almost breaks.

"You're here." Max leans forward to brush his lips against my cheek, pausing by my ear, his breath dancing on my skin. "You look fucking incredible."

I blush and pull back too quickly. He can see the way my nipples pucker beneath my sheer dress. His bottom lips fall open as he grabs my wrist, fingers tight against my flesh. 

"I missed you."

2nd Place
Word count: 296

It started with a simple glance. 

“Here you go.” The guy I’ve been chatting with hands me a beer. 

Not even his offering can make me break eye contact with this man.

This shining star.

This beacon.

The way he leans against the railing listening to the small gathering of people who seem to be just as drawn to him as I am right now.

He answers them. A drag from his cig... never taking his eyes off me. His answering smile is bright, dimpled and sexy as hell.

He’s caught me in his web.

I’d barely escape his hold if I tried. 

I don’t want to escape.

I remember the feel of his lips.

I remember the feel of his smooth skin over the tight muscles of his back; his thick, wavy hair through my fingers as I tugged and pulled.

His warm, calloused hands setting me on fire.

The slight animalistic growl in his voice when he entered me, fucked me.

The velvety lilt of his accent after we lay there, speaking words of want; words of satisfaction in the dark.

Here I am... here we are. Again. An ocean of time between us. But it still feels like yesterday.

I break away from the connection when the guy talking to me calls my name.

“Hmm? I’m sorry?”

“Oh, I was just wondering if you maybe wanted to grab something to eat later?”

I’m about to turn him down when a strong arm snakes its way around my waist. The feel of him scorches every inch of me through my dress.

“Sorry. She has plans,” he says, whisking me away.

“I thought I could stay away,” he whispers leading me to my destiny. “I’m mad for you.”

And I know...

I won’t say no.

3rd Place
Bebe Ginja
Word Count: 299

“Come to me tonight. I must have you.” King Edward whispered into my ear.

I curtsied low before him as our dance ended. The court had already feasted, but the king, I noticed, was still hungry.

“Yes, Your Grace,” I replied.

Who am I to deny my king? I am only fifteen, and although I know the risks my consent carries, I also know in my heart that I must have him, too.

I knew it from the moment I saw him.

Now, I sneak my way to King Edward’s door. The guards ignore me—they must have been warned.

I enter his chambers, and my king stands in his undergarments in front of the fireplace. He is tall, muscular, and simply god-like.

“What is your name?”

“Isabella, my lord.”

“Let me undress you.”

As he unlaces my dress, his knuckles graze my bare shoulders, sending shivers down my spine. I turn to him and let my dress fall, let my hair down.

“So beautiful,” he sighs. He cups my chin with his hand and kisses me full on the mouth. 

“Am I your first?” he asks between unhurried kisses to my neck.

“Yes,” I breathe, feeling my heartbeat everywhere.

“Then I shall make it memorable.”

I lay on the bed before him, his body glowing in the firelight. His eyes, dark with lust, are in complete contrast to the playfulness of his smirk.

Despite his scandalous reputation, I am delighted to find that my king is gentle, and indeed quite gracious.

His fingers inside me force his name quietly from my lips. And, later, as he hovers over me, his name is an anthem, an incantation, a hymn, and a prayer.

God, forgive me for what I have done.

I am in love; in love and surely ruined.

4th Place:
Word count: 300
He walks toward me, his smile radiant and his bright, green eyes crinkling at the corners.

I can’t help but smile back.

I watch him as he watches me.

I bet my view is way better.

He licks his lips and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. I want to lick it, or gently bite it. I imagine the scruff from his five o’clock shadow tickling my lips, and squeeze my thighs together to relieve the ache between them.

He runs a hand through his wavy, messy hair and I groan, longing to do the same; wishing I was that hand.

His eyebrows rise up as he approaches. “Hey, Bella, what are you up to?”

I shrug. “Not much. You?”

“Same.” His lips wrap around each word.

I bite my lip hard enough to stop myself from telling him what a huge crush I have on him and how I wish he’d kiss me already and take me out of my misery. 

Instead, I say, “I was just going to get a coffee. Want to stand in line with me?”

I am lame.

But the smile he gives me eclipses the one from moments ago. “I’ll follow you anywhere, Bella.”

My toes curl and my insides quiver as he extends his hand toward mine.

Gulping, I nervously slip my palm against his. “Okay.”

I look up at him shyly and the way he’s beaming down at me tells me that maybe there’s a chance.

We walk inside the coffee shop together, confidence radiating off of him in waves. 

My hand never leaves his as he orders our drinks. He charms Mrs. Cope into giving us free scones and offers to feed me because my hands are full.

That’s when I know I’ll get to taste that tempting apple someday.

Honorable Mention
Maiqui Mycel Tameta

I took a long drag of the brightly lit cigarette between my fingers. I looked at her. Tears streaming down her beautiful face across from me.

I heard every soft whimper that chose to escape her lips.. every silent prayer she cried out to a god who restricted her rights because of her sexuality.

My arm leaned against the door frame as I surveyed the damage I’d done. 

“F*ck!” I exploded.

My hands grabbed my sand colored hair in a vice grip. I punched the wall more than once. The ache, caused by the force my hands were under, was nothing compared to the pain in my heart for her. It’s all because of her.

I kept punching the battered wall when I felt two small hands around my waist pleading for me to stop what I was doing. I punched the hole once more before I turned to face my blue-eyed angel.

I grabbed her face between my palms. I kissed her lips in hunger for her love. My tongue grazed over her bottom lips, begging for entry, hoping that she would return the same passion and intensity I poured into that kiss; pleading in it that she would feel the same.

“Come with me,” I whispered, already knowing that her answer would be no but I kept trying.

“My life is here, Max.”

I turned away and let out a mocking laugh. My body tensed with anger.


Tears streamed down my face as I kissed her stomach where our Little Miracle laid.

“Come with me, my beautiful girl… please,” my voice breaking.

“Don’t give him up.... Don’t give us up.”


  1. @lejadalulu‎



    “You're lying to me.”

    I jump when I hear his voice, but I'm not fast enough. He blocks my door with his foot, slamming it shut after backing me inside. I take a deep breath. A week of avoiding him was a week longer than I thought I'd last. Time's up.

    “I'm not.” I am.

    He scoffs. “You think I can't tell when you're lying?”

    I turn my head away, refusing to answer.

    “Why are you doing this?” He's angry, and it's better than the hurt I heard in his voice through my door last night. In every voicemail. It makes the lies easier to say.

    “I don't want you anymore, Edward. It's over.”

    I speak to the floor, to the tops of his shoes. The ones he was wearing the night we met. When he called me pretty and asked me to dance.

    “Look at me, Bella.”

    I don't. Can't. I'll buckle.

    My breath leaves me when I feel his hands cupping my face. He rushes at me, backing me against the kitchen counter. His touch is like free falling.

    “Stop, no.” I close my eyes and grab at his wrists, pulling without effort.

    He shakes my hands away and flattens his palm against my chest, right over my heart. “This... is mine. You gave it to me and I won't give it back.”

    A tear slips over the curve of my upper lip and he licks it away.

    My jeans and underwear are around my upper thighs and his shaking fingers slide over the wetness that belongs to him. He's frantic. Desperate and frenzied. I'm ashamed for doing this to him. “Don't do this to us, Bella.”

    I wrap my arms around his shoulders.

    “Don't let me.”

  2. TwiCharmed
    Word Count: 299


    My hand freezes on the door when I hear the familiar voice behind me. I don’t even turn around and say, “How did you find me?”

    It doesn’t matter. He’s here and I’m already slipping.

    He leans in and says what I’m thinking. “It doesn’t matter.” The whisper hits my ear and I close my eyes feeling tingles and warmth.

    The last ditch effort is out of my mouth like a broken record, “We’re not good for each other, Edward.”

    His mouth is at my throat and I can’t help but to lean back into him. He knows just like I do that this will not end well.

    “I don’t give a fuck.”

    I turn the knob to open the door just as I turn to face him, seeking out lips that have played a role in my dreams for the last four months.

    He leads me with his body, moving me into the apartment toward my hall table.

    Dropping my bag, I reach behind to support myself on the table while Edward grips my hips and moves his hands up to remove my t-shirt. His lips are back at my throat sucking while one hand goes to the back of my head and the other goes to the button on my jeans.

    The room is spinning when his hand enters my panties. I’m already wet. My body knows what’s happening even before my brain does.

    One last hesitation travels through my head. It says that I can still stop this. But the butterflies in my stomach and the moan coming out of my mouth drowns out that thought.

    “Bella…” My name sounds like a prayer as he whispers it across my skin, bringing his lips back to meet mine.

    He’s right. I don’t give a fuck either.


  3. Missy
    300 words

    The room was dark when we stumbled inside.

    His hands guided me through the dim light in his house then pushed my shirt up and over my head.

    “I’ll have you screaming my name before I’m done with you, beautiful.”

    His low growl and the way his hands moved over my body made my head spin.

    He didn’t waste any time pulling my pants down past my hips and pushing me up against the kitchen table.

    “I want you so bad, Bella, I can practically taste you.”

    His words were my undoing as his hand quickly made its way to my core.

    “So wet for me, sweetheart.”

    He pressed his body against mine, his fingers buried deep as his palm rubbed my clit.

    His kisses weren’t soft or gentle as his lips pressed against my mouth. My lips parted quickly; my tongue just as needy as his.

    He moved against me, the hardness in his pants rubbing my thigh rhythmically.

    “Touch your tits,” he said gruffly, softly biting the spot where my shoulder met my collarbone.

    I did as I was told, pulling down the demi cups and pinching my nipples as his fingers brought me closer and closer to bliss.

    “That’s it, baby,” he groaned. “Touch yourself … God you look good like this.”

    I whimpered helplessly as he pulled his hand away from me.

    “I want you to come on my cock,” he said between clenched teeth as I watched him pull my pants down my legs.

    He stood then, his fingers working over his belt buckle. “I didn’t tell you to stop playing with those pretty nipples, Bella.”

    The glint in his eye had me clenching my thighs together.

    “So beautiful.” He stroked his cock, his eyes wandering all over my body. “Are you ready for me?”

  4. kitchmill
    Word Count: 300

    “What do you think your students would say about you getting dirty in the stacks, Professor Masen?” I ask, dropping my purse and keys on the table. It was a long day at work, but his visit certainly made it an enjoyable one.

    “I don’t care what my students think, Mrs. Masen. I only care that my wife enjoys herself as much as I did.”

    Edward spins me around and pushes me against the table. His mouth is hungry against mine as his hands cup my face. I love this side of him. The six years we’ve been together have been quite an adventure.

    I hum into his mouth as our tongues dance together. His hands trail down my throat and over my shoulders before coming to rest at the opening of my blouse. In one smooth motion, he rips it open and pulls my breasts from my bra for the second time in as many hours. Only minutes later, my bra and blouse are discarded and Edward is unbuttoning my jeans and sliding them down.

    His kisses move down my neck and toward my ear. “I promised to take care of you, baby,” he whispers.

    My head drops back as his hand moves from my hip and slips into the front of my pants.

    “So wet,” he murmurs as two long fingers move through my slickness.

    “Since the moment you walked into the library,” I admit, although he already knows that.

    He pushes those fingers inside me and I immediately clamp around him. My hips buck as his thumb rolls lazily over my clit. “Ride my fingers,” he demands.

    It doesn’t take long for me to explode around him, screaming his name.

    When I come to, he’s lazily licking those fingers. “Now, I want a taste from the source.”

  5. @everydaybella89
    words: 115

    “Edward, we can’t.” I gasp as my back hits the low table and his hips pin me down.

    “Sure, we can.” His lips crash into my own and I’m helpless putty. His body turns me on, and there is no way to fight it.

    His long fingers reach between us, tugging my denim shorts down my legs before his fingers part my folds.

    The party, the fact that I’m forbidden, is forgotten as one long finger enters me. It takes everything in me to not scream as he finger fucks me hard and fast, his palm rubbing my clit.

    His mouth claims mine as I come alive under his fingers.

    “Tell me that’s wrong, Bella.”

  6. JennaReads
    Word Count: 300

    “Don't be a fucking child, Bella.”

    His voice raised the hair on the back of my neck. I met his gaze, unrepentant. “I have no idea what you mean.”

    He tossed his coat aside, began unfastening his cuffs. “No?”

    He folded back his left sleeve, his right. The sight of his strong fingers distracted me momentarily, but I reined in my traitorous libido. My chin hitched up a notch.

    I moved to walk deeper into his apartment, but he grasped the hem of my shirt, wrenching me back and whipping it over my head. I whirled, one arm a feeble cover over my braless chest even as I tried to stiff-arm some space between us.

    He didn't allow any distance, pushing against my hand until the backs of my thighs pressed against the hall table. “Jealousy is for children. You're better than that.”

    Shame shivered through me, but I couldn't back down. I needed something from him, some sort of affirmation that I was more than a good lay. “I need--”

    He leaned closer, dominating my space and stealing my breath. “You need to understand.”

    His skillful fingers twisted free the button of my jeans, shoved down the zipper. He ignored the flimsy barrier of my panties to slide into the heat within. “Wet for me, Bella.” He slid one finger inside, slick, easy. “Your body knows it.” He angled until our eyes met. “You know it.”

    He sank his finger deep, possessive. I gasped at the strength of the shudder rippling over me, captured entirely within his gaze, within his intimate hold. My eyes burned, then the cool slip of a tear down my cheek.

    He growled, pressed his lips to the trail. Gripping my hand, he flattened my palm over his heart. “Yours, Bella. Only, ever yours.”

  7. 297 words

    “No underwear, little love?”

    His fingers dip and slide, just to check that I’m wet - as if he doesn’t already know that I will be from just his proximity alone. His chuckle is brash as it breaks the silence between us, his thumb lingering for just a second before he brings his hands up to trail across my body.

    There are a thousand white-hot pokers hidden beneath the pads of his fingers, charring and scorching and searing my already-flayed skin. His touch is a brand that marks me as only his, as though I could ever belong to another after knowing him.

    “Sweet girl,” he whispers. “Sweetest girl. My sunshine.”

    He trails his hands across my body so slowly, so demanding that I surrender. I slump and give and he takes, takes, takes, using me. Consuming me.

    Freeing me.

    “I’ll make you shine.” He fingers the crease underneath the teardrop curve of my breast. “Little diamond, so precious. Love-ray so bright that she blinds me.”

    My hands twitch from their position behind me, wanting so desperately to feel him, read him, as though there are flesh-deep secrets written in Braille on his skin.

    “Keep them there, beauty. Don’t move them.”

    His words are steel veiled by softness, but we both know the warning is a real one. His skin is mottled and scarred, raised and jagged.

    Too ugly for my pretty to touch, he says. Too ugly to feel my love.

    So when his hand moves down to flick and fuck and rub, I keep still, giving him all that he lets me.

    When I come, I lock my eyes onto his.

    Praying that one day he’ll let me give more than just my gaze.

    And from the dark glimmer of green looking back, he knows.

  8. @bebeginja
    Word Count: 300

    Monday: Bella is my new lab partner. Bella Swan … how many times have I written her name across my ceiling at night? Pictured her perfect face behind squeezed-shut eyes as I stroked myself faster?

    Word is she just dumped her asshole college boyfriend.

    Word is she’s had her eyes on me.

    Tuesday: Her cleavage is on display. She sits closer than usually acceptable, and bites her lip when she smiles. I wince in pain watching her cherry-red fingernails dance across her collarbone.

    Wednesday: She says my name out loud, and it will never sound the same again. I make a list of all the ways I could make her say it.

    Thursday: She arrives at the library freshly showered, hair still damp. She smells like jasmine and vanilla, and I want nothing to do with exhaling when she is near.

    Friday: She texts me, asking to get together later to trade lab notes.

    What are you really asking for, naughty girl?

    Saturday: We climb the stairs to my bedroom in silence. Call me crazy, but she wears lust like a neon sign. I close the door, turn around.

    Nope. Not crazy.

    Two long steps and I’m flush against her. Our lips are frantic, like they’ve missed each other.

    “Is this why you came?” I back her into my desk, tugging at her jeans while she removes her shirt.

    “I haven’t come yet.” Deep brown eyes simultaneously order and plead.

    My fingers slide against her slick warmth, one on each side of her clit.

    Her tongue tastes like candy. I pull my hand; my fingers taste like honey and need.

    I turn her and bend her over the desk.

    With my jeans around my ankles, I roll on a condom, and fuck her until I hear my name again.

  9. Bellawannabe2
    Word Count: 299

    He slams the door behind us, locking it.

    “Edward, please. We can’t. Not here. They’re out there! They’ll come looking for us soon,” I plead backing away from him. I don’t escape far as I come into contact with the desk.

    He’s leaning against the door looking at me through burning emerald eyes. Almost like a predator stalking his prey. He has me right where he wants me. The thought terrifies me, excites me. Makes me wet.

    “Then I guess we better make this fast.”

    He walks slowly towards me stopping right in front of me. I can feel his body heat and smell his cologne. As he reaches down to grab the hem of my shirt, he leans in to whisper, “Do you know how fucking crazy it makes me seeing you with him? To see him touch you, kiss you?”

    My shirt is gone and lips are crashing to mine. I moan at the feel of his tongue pushing into my mouth. His taste is heady, addicting. I can’t get enough of him.

    I push my hands into his hair and pull. He brings his own hand up to grab my ponytail and yanks my head back.

    “You are mine,” he growls as he attacks my neck. I feel his hardness against my stomach. It makes me moan.

    “These are mine,” he states as he grabs my breasts. His hands continue south to yank my jeans open and down.

    “And this is mine.” He doesn’t hesitate to claim me with his long middle finger. There is no teasing as his palm grinds into my clit. His lips attack mine again swallowing my cries of pleasure. Expertly he brings me closer and closer to the edge.

    “Say it when you come on my fingers.”

    Exploding around him, “Yours!”