Flash Fic Friday



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.

Chosen by Heather Twilover76

Thank you so much to everyone who submitted entries for me this week. They really were all excellent!!! I had a tough time choosing between them and wanted to place every one of them!

One little note... remember the word count needs to be between 100 and 300 words. There was one entry I would have placed in my top three if it hadn't gone way over (TouchMyNeck).

Thanks again for entering and I hope you all come back for this week's round.

Heather (Twilover76)

First Place: LovelyBrutal
Word Count: 242

I love this song.

The rhythm that pounds steady as your heart's heavy beating right now.

Unfaltering, endless, and wicked, it leads everything else on the track.

The guitar, the lyrics, the bass – they were all secondary, crafted to surround and glorify the beat that's guiding and adhering everything together. That drives everything in and of you to agree, to move, to revel. The sway in your step, the light in your eyes, storm in your synapses. It's all perfectly in tune with this song.

It was written to make hips grind and toes curl. To make you want to turn it up. To make you open your mouth for me and sing.

To give life to your ache. To set your need on fire.

And it does.

You love it. I can feel it.

It's in the way you rock your hips into mine like a drum beat. The way you beg for deeper with the curve of your back, a dance trapped between sheets and skin.

The way you twine your fingers around mine, tighter than the coil of guitar strings while I slide, and push, and drop my weight right through you.

The high pitched pleas that float up in the shadow of my low groans.

Each little “don't stop” prayer that follows my whispered “fuck” like a chorus.

It all comes back to this song.

It ignites you.

It was meant to.

I wrote it for you.

Second Place: Lost In Fanfiction
Word Count: 300

Your weight is stifling. Our fingers laced together, above my head, oppressive. Yet, I don’t
fight it. Pleasure outweighs discomfort. The unyielding rhythm of your cock and sounds in my ear let me know that you feel this, love this. I submit to you, the feelings, the pleasure, knowing I will regret it.

After I reach my peak, you reach yours. The weight of your body remains. Reality hits me strong, the doubt, the knowing. I almost start counting the minutes until you go. And I wonder, will you say anything first? Will you wait until I’m asleep to slip out? It’s not always the same with you, but ultimately…you leave.

I’ve become that girl I never thought I’d be—the weak and powerless one when it comes to a man. One man...you. Every time you leave I say it will be the last.

But it never is.

I’m weak, a doormat even. You’re my drug and I’m hooked.

You roll off and snuggle in, a deceiving possessive arm across my middle, almost taunting me to believe it means something.

I take one last look at you before I close my eyes, same as always, committing you to my memory. Your unkempt yet perfect hair, the scruff on your strong jaw, the masculine eyebrows, the long, lean muscles of your arms. One last time, I tell myself, remember it well.

Touches and feelings begin to rouse me. I dare not open my eyes and wake myself from this dream. The pleasure builds until white light bursts behind my lids. My body sings from head to toe.

When you enter me, I realize it’s not a dream. I peer through heavy lids and see the pleasure on your face as you move inside me.

“You’re here.”

You smile. “Always.”

Third Place: mystiquejeweled
Word Count: 300

His eyes had been following me all week.

I felt it most when I laughed loudly or fingered my hair. I’ll admit, I may have given the locks an extra twirl just to feel the burn of his gaze on me.

I hated that I loved his attention. I hated him. Then again, he hated me.

Too bad our bodies didn’t get the memo.

I’d just walked in to my room when I felt two large hands grab my waist and lift me. Before I knew it, I felt my back hit the soft mattress of my bed. One of the hands quickly slipped off my waist and covered my mouth, muffling my shriek of surprise.

My eyes met impish, green ones and narrowed. I shoved his hand off me and glared at him. “What the hell, Edward?”

He smirked down at me. Bronze-haired, green-eyed, and with a body that was sculpted to perfection, the best friend of my older brother was a heartbreaker. “Hey there, Bella.”

He leaned down and kissed me, his soft lips roughly pushing against mine. I desperately wanted to stop him, but I couldn’t.

My legs wrapped themselves tightly around his waist and my hand tugged at his hair. He groaned and ran his hands up and down my waist, thrusting his hard cock right where I needed him.

“I’ve wanted you all week.” He muttered roughly.

“Stop talking.”

I moaned as he kissed my neck, his hands pushing my dress up my thighs. One of his hands grabbed both of mine and held them above my head as he kissed his way down my collarbone.

His other hand crept up my thigh, dangerously close to my sex. He grinned against my skin. “Love me now?”

I wish I could say ‘no’.

Honorable Mention: TGBMcCray
Word Count: 296

Since my six-week checkup, he's been sniffing around like a dog looking for a place to bury his bone. I'd as soon play dead.

Oh, they are a joy, to be sure, and work, these whelping babes, wriggling and screaming for dinner among the mounds of swollen flesh I once shared only with him. We live days of adoration and nights of blinding exhaustion.

I am stripping wet sheets, and he is home early. I am mad when I see him in his work shirt and shaven jaw. He's got those hopeful eyes. I just want a fucking nap.

He's crushing me to his chest. "I missed you." His lips are against my neck and that heavy scent of musk and salt water; it works over the Dreft and sourness, pulling me in. He's needy and I don't want to fill anyone else, but his lips are trailing where his hands pet. I am worn and warming.

My head turns and he licks my lips. "I need you."

I say it. "I'm so tired, so...ugly."

His hand stills on his belt. "No..." He follows the curve of my ass and squeezes, walking his hands up my ribcage, skirting the edges of my breasts. "You made my babies, darlin’.”

My mouth is working like a fish, because, oh! One long finger is inside me, and then two, and he is grunting and rutting, dropping his jeans. "My love, my love..."

He grabs my shoulder and turns me. I bend at the waist and when he's slipped inside, we both shiver deep. His hands cover mine as he pushes. I stick out my ample ass to meet him and we are not mom and dad anymore.

We are Adam and Eve in the garden of this holy space.

Chosen by Jaime Arkin

Thank you so much to everyone who submitted entries for me this week I loved them! 


1st Place

“Take out your tits,” he says, pushing my legs open and standing between them. “I want to see them.”

I can feel the pressure of the skirt against my legs – tight and straining and almost painful.

“Fuck you,” I all but spit. “You can’t just come in here demanding whatever the fuck you want. And what? I’m just supposed to be ready and waiting whenever the mood strikes you? Well, I’ve got news for you. I’m not your girlfriend. And I’m not some subservient little whore who wets her panties every time you cast a glance in my direction. If you want that, you should go back to work. I’m sure that assistant of yours would be more than willing to comply.”

His green eyes flare with a golden heat around his dilated pupils. His breath, hot and sweet, brushes across my face as he lets out a controlled groan. But the frustration is there, boiling just beneath the surface of his always intact restraint.

“Her tits are too small. They wouldn’t feel as good wrapped around my dick as yours.” He says it so casually I can’t help the gasp that escapes me. It turns into a moan the moment he pushes his hand up my skirt, cupping me possessively. “And don’t lie to me again. Your panties aren’t just wet, baby. They’re soaked. Now, take out your tits.”


“I don’t need you to be subservient,” he whispers as he leans in. “If I want something, I’m man enough to take it. And this flimsy little shirt won’t stand in my way.”

I reach out and run my hands up along his stomach and chest; my hands fist in his hair at the nape of his neck, making him hiss. “Then take it.”

2nd Place

She shrieks, almost slipping and falling down as she rounds their tiled kitchen table.

Male laughter sounds, playfully sinister, close behind. He’s absolutely going to fucking catch her. And when he does, he’s going to show her.

She races in socked feet out of the kitchen and past the stairs. She squeals, feeling his fingers as they try to latch and catch at her shoulder only to grip at thin air.

He’s playing with her. He let her go. This is too much fun. She fucking knows.

His girl’s in a mood. A challenge-your-horny-boyfriend kind of mood. The kind of challenge she wants him to win. He loves a good challenge, especially then.

She giggles and runs, loving this chase. His running-after-her making her heart race. She laughs and looks back, only to stop in her place. Her sexy boyfriend is not to be traced.

Oh fuck!

Where the hell did he go?

Then suddenly she screams, airborne, “Arg! Edward!” His fine ass now in her face.

He struts slow through their den and over to their plush couch. He flounces her down, landing her on her back. Then he shouts, “You fucking dare me woman?” Large hands fist her shirt at its V-neck. His man-muscles tense. Then he locks stares, and says quiet, “Get ready, Bella. I accept your dare…and win.”

3rd Place

"Ow!" He yelped as my teeth sank into the skin on his neck. "What the fuck, Bella?"

His erection was pressed against my thigh. I shrugged against him.

"How am I supposed to explain a bite mark when we go back out there?"

"Tell them a vampire bit you," I giggled. Our coworkers would know what he had been doing in here.

Oh well. They wouldn't know it was with me.

He growled as he brought his lips to the place above my collar bone and began sucking.



My eyes rolled back into my head. He ground himself into me and dragged his fingers up my chest. After a minute, he pulled back and laughed.

"What is so funny, Edward?" I hissed.

He pointed to the spot his lips had been. "Revenge. Nice hickey, by the way."

I glared at him. There was no way they wouldn't see it.

"Asshole." I reached up and stuck my fingers in the pocket of his shirt. Then, I pulled until I heard it rip.

There was silence as his jaw dropped and his eyes slowly trailed down to the giant tear in his shirt. There was definitely no hiding that. I but my lip as I saw the muscles in his chest. Then, I giggled.

"Sucks for -" Before I could finish, his hands grabbed my shirt and ripped it from my body. I looked down to see my black bra, as well as the rest of me, completely exposed.

This time my reaction mirrored his.

"It looks like I've been attacked!"

His face was bright red as his body convulsed in laughter.

"Edward!" I slapped his chest. "What am I suppose I do?

"Who cares?" He brought his lips to mine.

We were so fucked.

Chosen by Twilover76

Thank you so much to everyone who submitted entries for me this week. They really were all excellent!!! I had a tough time choosing between them and wanted to place every one of them!

Thanks again for entering.

Heather (Twilover76)

First Place: Jadafukkinlulu
Word count 289

“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.”

Second Place: @lellabeth
Word Count: 297

“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.

Third Place: 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.”

Honorable Mention: 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.

Honorable Mention: @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.

Chosen by PAWsPeaches:

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
DH78- http://www.fanfiction.net/u/2231937/DH78
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.”

And a special thanks to our last week Guest Judge, @Cosmogirl7481! 

300 words

"Can you help me find something on the back stacks, Bella?"

My boss’s husky voice filled the nearly empty library, and a tremor vibrated through my suddenly alert body.

"Sure, Edward." I quickly logged off the computer and made my way around the information desk.

One week ago, he had asked for my assistance in the stacks. Without warning I found myself pinned to the shelves behind me with his hand tugging the buttons of my blouse apart. The cups of my bra pulled down exposing me to the cool air. As his tongue thrust into my mouth almost desperately, his hands teased and tugged at my tits and I begged for more.

He made me come with his fingers that night, my whimpers and moans filling the silence of the room. Pressed against authors I studied and read and admired, and I didn’t care one bit.

What we did that night wasn't pretty or sweet or loving.

Some might even call it disgusting.

But fuck... it felt good.

It was rough and desperate and dirty. It was perfect.

I tugged his pants over his ass. His cock sprung free, the swollen head of him right there waiting for me to say yes.

"Fuck, Bella... I want to be in that hot, sweet mouth of yours."

I remember licking my lips and whispering ‘yes’, as he slid his hand into my hair, his fingers digging in, grabbing and holding me steady.

He grasped himself tightly and slid his cock over my wet mouth and I let my tongue taste him.

I tasted everything he gave me that night.

As I follow him away from the bright lights of the entryway, into the darker recesses of the building I’ve worked in for years, I silently wonder what this night will bring.

300 words

Bella was just going to lock the library doors when she heard the bell tinkle.

“I'm sorry, the library is cl—ˮ

Her words were choked off at the sight of the man who stood there.

“Lock up.”

Bella shivered at the sound of his voice. With trembling hands, she did as he ordered.

“Go to the back, to the reference section. Take your tits out.”

Bella's mouth gaped. He arched a brow, his eyes never leaving her face.

Slowly, Bella walked to the back of the library. With her back to him, she began to unbutton her blouse with trembling fingers.

“Turn around so I can see you. Get on your knees when you're done.”

Bella closed her eyes and swallowed. Turning to face him, she continued.

As Bella sank to her knees, she heard his zipper being released. Looking up she came face-to-face with his cock, hard and slick with precum. Instinctually she licked her lips.

“That's right, baby, lick those lips. Get them nice and wet.” Taking his cock in hand, he rubbed it over Bella's lips and cheeks, leaving a sticky trail. Her eyes fluttered closed and a soft whimper escaped.

When Bella's tongue peeked out, he pulled away.

“Ah, ah, ah...did I say you could have my cock? Beg for it; show me what a hungry cockslut you are.”

“Please, may I...may I suck your cock, sir?”

Groaning, he tapped his dick against her lips. “Fuck, yes. Open up.”

Eagerly Bella took him in, working his cock until he grunted and pulled out, spraying her breasts with come.

After he'd caught his breath he smirked.

“So did that satisfy your fantasy of being dominated?”

She grinned and leaned up for a kiss. “Yes, sir!”

Missy (CullensTwiMistress)
300 words

...My pussy throbs and my body tingles in anticipation as I drop to my knees in front of him.

"That's it, sweet girl, take my cock," he says between clenched teeth, the tendons in his neck pulled tight. "Open your mouth, Bella."

I obey greedily, parting my lips, my tongue peeking out, wanting to taste him.

He runs his length along my jaw, the smooth skin pulsing as he teases. "I want you to suck it, sweetheart."

I nod, moving my head, my mouth instinctively following his movement.

My breathing is ragged at best and my chest heaves as I finally taste him.

"Such a greedy girl," he coos, finally sinking deep into my mouth. I open my throat for him and take him deeper, breathing and swallowing when I can.

"Such nice tits, Bella. And your mouth, Jesus, sweetheart, how am I supposed to control myself around you?" He moves his hips in time with my movements and threads his dexterous fingers into my hair.

I moan, my eyes meeting his as I swirl my tongue around him and reach down under my skirt to touch my soaked pussy.

I’ve wanted him to notice me every time I walked into this little book store, little did I know he wanted me too.

"That's right, touch yourself, greedy girl. I fucking knew you were perfect." His eyes are soft, in spite of his dirty mouth. I love it. I love everything about him.

I can’t wait to finally have him inside me.

He groans pulling his glorious cock out of my mouth and leans over me, his lips crashing into mine, his tongue pushing between my lips and his strong arms lifting me off the ground. My legs wrap around his hips and my back hits the bookshelf behind me.

298 words

I love Mondays.

My afternoon meetings with Professor Cullen on Wednesdays are very nice, sweet even. Screwing in a locked meeting room in the back of the campus library doesn’t usually provide uninterrupted time for long but we make the best of it. We don’t rush too much.

Fridays are even slower. The library is mostly empty and we know we won’t see each other for three more days, so we strive to make every thrust count.

It’s the best kind of torture the way our bodies push and pull at our leisurely pace and, by the time we both fall apart, our bodies are sticky with sweat and exhausted from the exertion.

Monday is the day we crave the most, though. Needy from being deprived all weekend, our bodies connect in a fast and furious way, always leaving us wanting more.

He’s watching me. My teeth graze my bottom lip before I walk away, knowing he’s following me to the back of the library. When I turn the last corner, his mouth attacks my own, his tongue not waiting for an invitation because it knows it’s always welcome.

My shirt is undone and my breasts are released within seconds but I don’t allow him to linger for long. I quickly undo his pants and pull them down as I sink to my knees.

“You gonna suck me, baby?” He rubs his cock across my face, teasing me, but, when I grab his hands, he stops.

“No touching. Hold onto the wall behind me because I’m going to fuck you with my mouth.”

My command surprises him but, when I wrap my lips around him and push his hard cock down my throat, placing my hands on his ass for leverage, he quickly surrenders.

Yeah, I love Mondays.


"I know I shouldn't be watching him, but I can't look away."

Special thanks to our last week Guest Judge, @Carenl!!!

Words: 300

I haven't been back here since that fateful day - the blow up between him and I. The two months that have passed since I moved with my little guy into the small town down in the valley, have shown me that I really can make it without Edward. Even when it hurts like hell.

Taking a deep breath, I use the old key he gave me back when we shared this small home, and let myself inside. The room smells like bacon and coffee and butter, and I know he's already made his breakfast. I hope he hasn't already left to work for the day, because, frankly, I'm not sure that I have the nerve to attempt this twice.

The entire place is eerily quiet, except for the crackling wood that is likely falling apart in the dying stove fire. I'm about to push back through the creaky door when I hear it: the squeaking springs of the old brass bed, and the irrefutable sound of his moans.

I carefully - quietly - make my way back toward the room. The door is open just enough for me to peer inside. What I see steals my breath.

Edward is pumping his cock with one hand while the other fists the white cotton sheets. My pussy clenches when he moans my name, and every nerve ending is alert. I must've gasped, because his bright green eyes are suddenly focused on mine. His hand stops rubbing and he quickly pulls up his shorts to cover himself.

"Bel--" he starts to call my name, but I'm already running.

Making it to my old red pickup, I start to open the door but his hand slams it closed. And he spins me, lips assaulting mine and his breath becoming my own.

"Mine," he groans. Owns. Possesses.

298 Words

I crept along the hallway, wishing I had grabbed my socks. October in Marquette was cold. I was freezing, tired, and completely on edge.

Fucking Edward.

He had arrived today with his cocky smile and wicked sense of humor. When we ended up alone in the kitchen, he was all flirty banter and light touches. I wanted him, and I knew he wanted me, too. But he didn’t make a move - just teased me all night - so I went to bed alone and frustrated.

I slipped quietly across the floor as I headed for the kitchen, knowing Edward and Jasper were sleeping in the great room. A soft grunt stopped me in my tracks. I peeked around the corner into the den, wondering what...


Edward - on the couch - in nothing but his boxers. Head back, jaw clenched, his body practically glowed in the moonlight. That chest, those arms, those abs - everything about him was long and lean, sinuous...almost feline.

His arms shifted down, his ab muscles quivering, his hand disappearing under the black cotton fabric.

Oh my God, his hand was on his cock.

I knew I shouldn’t be watching him, but I couldn’t look away. The way his muscles contracted when his fingers wrapped around himself...the sighs and groans as his arm moved faster...the frantic way he used one hand to push the fabric over his hips so he could grip his balls.

It was the most erotic thing I had ever seen.

I glanced up at his face as he came, shocked to see his eyes open, watching me as I watched him. A slow smile spread across his face, and I returned it as I stepped into the office and closed the door behind me.

260 words

When Bella asked if one of her old friends from college could stay with us for a few days, of course I was fine with it. When she told me that this friend was male, I was a little leery, until she laughingly explained that Carlisle was gay and they'd never been anything but friends.

Carlisle turned out to be easygoing and personable, with a wicked sense of humor. He and Bella were like siblings—inwardly I laughed at myself for thinking he might have an interest in her. We drank wine and talked and laughed, and I was sure I was imagining the lingering looks he was giving me.

Eventually we were all yawning and decided to call it a night. As we climbed into bed, Bella asked if I would check and see if Carlisle needed anything. I got up and walked across the hall to the spare room, seeing a thin sliver of moonlight spilling out. I raised my hand to knock, but stopped short when I heard my name in a hoarse whisper.

Peering in I saw Carlisle had pushed the blanket down past his groin. His hand played along his abs, combing through his pubic hair and grasping the base of his dick. I knew I shouldn't be watching him, but I couldn't look away. “Edward.” A strangled groan and then come was spilling over his hand and onto his abs. My heart was pounding, and I felt sick with guilt as I realized that my own cock was in my hand, hard and throbbing.

Word count: 293

This is wrong. So, so wrong.

I shouldn't.

I won't.

"Lead me not into temptation..."

My impatient fingers drum the mouse. Just one click. One click.

No one will know.

Erase the history.

"Flee from sexual immorality." -First Corinthians 6:18 I hear it echo in my head as I stare at the link Jessica sent me.

I glance over at the bible on my nightstand. Father would kill me if he found out.

I shift my laptop to obstruct my view of The Good Book. I'll ask for forgiveness later.

"Oh be careful little eyes what you see..."

Palms sweaty, heart racing. I flex my fingers, and I click.

And I gasp.

And I can't look away.

My eyes are frantic across the screen.

A man, shirtless, six pack, leans back on a couch. He's...he's...touching himself...while he watches her.

I swallow.


He watches them. Two women.

Kissing. Squeezing. Petting. Licking. Legs spread, tongues out.

Does that feel good? My free hand absently moves to my chest.

He calls the women to him. His hands stroke himself wildly, and he says bad, bad words. He kisses the blond, pulls her by the hair to his mouth while the brunette pulls down his pants.

Then, I see...it.


My eyes go wide.

It pops up, stands erect, the tip almost reaching his belly button. She takes it in her hand. Her long, decorated fingernails barely wrapping around his girth.

I lean closer. Breathless. Flushed.

My body feels soft and heated, but I have goose bumps. I'm trembling with anticipation and nerves.

"Put to death sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires... Because of these, the wrath of God is coming." -Colossians 3:5

The floor creaks behind me, and-


299 words

“Knew you’d be here,” he says, and the shame coursing through me makes me shut my eyes.

Just for a moment, though - the image he presents is too tempting to ignore.

Flushed skin and dark hair covers hard muscle, his abs tensing in time with his grunts as he fists his cock.

“He fuck you tonight?”

His words are vulgar and crass, a venom-dipped arrow meant to pierce my softest part.

And it does.

“Yes,” I whisper, not certain he can even hear me from my place just inside the door. But he doesn’t have to hear, because he already knows.

He always knows.

“Yeah, bet he did. He fuck you good?”

I shake my head. He knows this, too.

“No, never does. That’s why you come to me.”

At my nod, he pulls his cock free. I stare at it, just as flushed as the rest of him, the skin tight and straining as his hand swipes over the head.

“No one but you gets me this hard. No one. That’s fucked, babe.”

This time, my eyes stay closed for long seconds, because he’s so right.

“Touch yourself. Legs spread, let me see what belongs to me.”

My movements are an apology; my reparation for the parts of myself I can’t give because the wedding band on the third finger of my left hand won’t let me.

He gives me words full of filth, but it’s the raw affection in his tone that makes me hurt.

When I come, it’s a sigh that’s edged with tears.

When he comes, it’s with wet eyes locked on to mine.

There is no afterglow, just endless dark.

“Me or him, Bella. ‘Cause I swear, I’m done with this.”

As I creep into the corridor, I pray to God he’s lying.

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

Winners and Prompts for 9/4/2013

"I know I shouldn't be watching him, but I can't look away."

Special thanks to our last week Guest Judge, @Carenl!!!

Words: 300

I haven't been back here since that fateful day - the blow up between him and I. The two months that have passed since I moved with my little guy into the small town down in the valley, have shown me that I really can make it without Edward. Even when it hurts like hell.

Taking a deep breath, I use the old key he gave me back when we shared this small home, and let myself inside. The room smells like bacon and coffee and butter, and I know he's already made his breakfast. I hope he hasn't already left to work for the day, because, frankly, I'm not sure that I have the nerve to attempt this twice.

The entire place is eerily quiet, except for the crackling wood that is likely falling apart in the dying stove fire. I'm about to push back through the creaky door when I hear it: the squeaking springs of the old brass bed, and the irrefutable sound of his moans.

I carefully - quietly - make my way back toward the room. The door is open just enough for me to peer inside. What I see steals my breath.

Edward is pumping his cock with one hand while the other fists the white cotton sheets. My pussy clenches when he moans my name, and every nerve ending is alert. I must've gasped, because his bright green eyes are suddenly focused on mine. His hand stops rubbing and he quickly pulls up his shorts to cover himself.

"Bel--" he starts to call my name, but I'm already running.

Making it to my old red pickup, I start to open the door but his hand slams it closed. And he spins me, lips assaulting mine and his breath becoming my own.

"Mine," he groans. Owns. Possesses.

298 Words

I crept along the hallway, wishing I had grabbed my socks. October in Marquette was cold. I was freezing, tired, and completely on edge.

Fucking Edward.

He had arrived today with his cocky smile and wicked sense of humor. When we ended up alone in the kitchen, he was all flirty banter and light touches. I wanted him, and I knew he wanted me, too. But he didn’t make a move - just teased me all night - so I went to bed alone and frustrated.

I slipped quietly across the floor as I headed for the kitchen, knowing Edward and Jasper were sleeping in the great room. A soft grunt stopped me in my tracks. I peeked around the corner into the den, wondering what...


Edward - on the couch - in nothing but his boxers. Head back, jaw clenched, his body practically glowed in the moonlight. That chest, those arms, those abs - everything about him was long and lean, sinuous...almost feline.

His arms shifted down, his ab muscles quivering, his hand disappearing under the black cotton fabric.

Oh my God, his hand was on his cock.

I knew I shouldn’t be watching him, but I couldn’t look away. The way his muscles contracted when his fingers wrapped around himself...the sighs and groans as his arm moved faster...the frantic way he used one hand to push the fabric over his hips so he could grip his balls.

It was the most erotic thing I had ever seen.

I glanced up at his face as he came, shocked to see his eyes open, watching me as I watched him. A slow smile spread across his face, and I returned it as I stepped into the office and closed the door behind me.

260 words

When Bella asked if one of her old friends from college could stay with us for a few days, of course I was fine with it. When she told me that this friend was male, I was a little leery, until she laughingly explained that Carlisle was gay and they'd never been anything but friends.

Carlisle turned out to be easygoing and personable, with a wicked sense of humor. He and Bella were like siblings—inwardly I laughed at myself for thinking he might have an interest in her. We drank wine and talked and laughed, and I was sure I was imagining the lingering looks he was giving me.

Eventually we were all yawning and decided to call it a night. As we climbed into bed, Bella asked if I would check and see if Carlisle needed anything. I got up and walked across the hall to the spare room, seeing a thin sliver of moonlight spilling out. I raised my hand to knock, but stopped short when I heard my name in a hoarse whisper.

Peering in I saw Carlisle had pushed the blanket down past his groin. His hand played along his abs, combing through his pubic hair and grasping the base of his dick. I knew I shouldn't be watching him, but I couldn't look away. “Edward.” A strangled groan and then come was spilling over his hand and onto his abs. My heart was pounding, and I felt sick with guilt as I realized that my own cock was in my hand, hard and throbbing.

Word count: 293

This is wrong. So, so wrong.

I shouldn't.

I won't.

"Lead me not into temptation..."

My impatient fingers drum the mouse. Just one click. One click.

No one will know.

Erase the history.

"Flee from sexual immorality." -First Corinthians 6:18 I hear it echo in my head as I stare at the link Jessica sent me.

I glance over at the bible on my nightstand. Father would kill me if he found out.

I shift my laptop to obstruct my view of The Good Book. I'll ask for forgiveness later.

"Oh be careful little eyes what you see..."

Palms sweaty, heart racing. I flex my fingers, and I click.

And I gasp.

And I can't look away.

My eyes are frantic across the screen.

A man, shirtless, six pack, leans back on a couch. He's...he's...touching himself...while he watches her.

I swallow.


He watches them. Two women.

Kissing. Squeezing. Petting. Licking. Legs spread, tongues out.

Does that feel good? My free hand absently moves to my chest.

He calls the women to him. His hands stroke himself wildly, and he says bad, bad words. He kisses the blond, pulls her by the hair to his mouth while the brunette pulls down his pants.

Then, I see...it.


My eyes go wide.

It pops up, stands erect, the tip almost reaching his belly button. She takes it in her hand. Her long, decorated fingernails barely wrapping around his girth.

I lean closer. Breathless. Flushed.

My body feels soft and heated, but I have goose bumps. I'm trembling with anticipation and nerves.

"Put to death sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires... Because of these, the wrath of God is coming." -Colossians 3:5

The floor creaks behind me, and-


299 words

“Knew you’d be here,” he says, and the shame coursing through me makes me shut my eyes.

Just for a moment, though - the image he presents is too tempting to ignore.

Flushed skin and dark hair covers hard muscle, his abs tensing in time with his grunts as he fists his cock.

“He fuck you tonight?”

His words are vulgar and crass, a venom-dipped arrow meant to pierce my softest part.

And it does.

“Yes,” I whisper, not certain he can even hear me from my place just inside the door. But he doesn’t have to hear, because he already knows.

He always knows.

“Yeah, bet he did. He fuck you good?”

I shake my head. He knows this, too.

“No, never does. That’s why you come to me.”

At my nod, he pulls his cock free. I stare at it, just as flushed as the rest of him, the skin tight and straining as his hand swipes over the head.

“No one but you gets me this hard. No one. That’s fucked, babe.”

This time, my eyes stay closed for long seconds, because he’s so right.

“Touch yourself. Legs spread, let me see what belongs to me.”

My movements are an apology; my reparation for the parts of myself I can’t give because the wedding band on the third finger of my left hand won’t let me.

He gives me words full of filth, but it’s the raw affection in his tone that makes me hurt.

When I come, it’s a sigh that’s edged with tears.

When he comes, it’s with wet eyes locked on to mine.

There is no afterglow, just endless dark.

“Me or him, Bella. ‘Cause I swear, I’m done with this.”

As I creep into the corridor, I pray to God he’s lying.


count: 298

She’s there.

I can’t believe it. She’s actually there.

She remembered.

I squint into the midday sun, against the ocean air kicking up grains of sand as it breezes off the Pacific, and take a long, hard look at Bella to make sure I’m not imagining what I’m seeing.

That was the last place I saw her, sitting just like that, in that exact spot. Four years ago, the summer we left for college.

“I don’t want to go,” she told me, leaning her head on my shoulder.“Yeah you do.”“Yeah . . . I kinda do,” she laughed.

It was time. We were both leaving this small town, discovering the world on our own. We promised each other we’d keep in touch. And we have, for the most part, but college life and work make for busy lives. Not to mention opposite coasts. Social media made it convenient. Random texts to say Hi and share old personal jokes made the time pass a little easier.

We also promised to return to this place.

“The next time I see you, I want it to be here. Just like this. Meet me here. In four years, after we graduate. Okay? Promise me, E. No matter what.”

I take a step off the concrete stairs leading from the parking lot to the beach and begin walking to her, my eyes fixated on her nearly bare back. Before I know it, I’m running, thankful that the hot sand quiets my footsteps.

Bel-la, Bel-la, Bel-la my heart sings with every stride.

I slow to a walk as I get closer. Hesitating slightly, I walk up next to her and sit down to mimic her position.

“Hi,” I say guardedly.

She leans her head on my shoulder. Smiles without looking up at me. “You remembered.”


Word Count 298

A couple sit further down the beach. Their bodies are angled toward each other as the girl laughs at something the handsome boy says.

I should look away. I should turn and walk in the opposite direction forgetting I ever saw them. Instead, I stand frozen unable to move.

Silent tears fall down my cheeks. I don’t wipe them away.

You were supposed to wait for me.

One year.

We didn’t even make it to Christmas.

You surprised me one weekend. I thought it was romantic, that you couldn’t bear to be away from me. I was wrong.

You loved college. It suited you. You loved the freedom, the parties… and the girls.

It was over. You wanted to enjoy college life properly. And the proper way was single, without a girlfriend pining for you back home.

I cried. I yelled. I threw stuff and told you to leave. I didn’t mean any of it.

As the summer months loomed closer I listened to the rumors. You were coming home. And you were bringing someone.

I dreamed of the moment you would be back here. In our spot. I never thought you would be here with another girl.

She’s beautiful.

Her blonde hair shimmers in the sunlight, her shoulders tanning in the midday heat.

You smile at her and my heart shatters. That smile used to be for me. I hate that it’s now hers.

In those moments I realize it’s over.

Planning to follow you to the same college is not an option. I can’t be near you and watch you love another.

With one last glance at my past, I turn and go back the way I came.

I don’t see you turning round, or the smile that falls from your face when you see me.


Word Count - 299

I dream of you. Every night, I lay my head on the pillow, your pillow, and smile. It’s my favourite time of day. I know that in a few short minutes, the sleeping pills will kick in and I’ll be with you.

As always, we’re sitting on a beach. Today it’s Waikiki, from the last trip we took together. The soles of my feet sting in the heat as I walk towards you, your back to me. I can still see the faint red lines from where I raked my nails down it last night.

You hiss as I press the ice cool bottle of water against those scratches. Tugging, you pull me down into the sand, rolling to near on top of me but mindful of the families nearby.

“You minx,” you growl, but your eyes sparkle in playfulness, so full of laughter.

I may have seen your face a thousand times but I can’t help but stare. You’re beautiful and you’re mine.


“Nothing,” I smile. “I was just wondering what I did so right to have you wander into my life?”

Your hand reaches up to caress my cheek, you gold band glinting in the bright light. “You were you; perfect in every way.”

A beat or two passes before I burst into laughter. “God, that was the cheesiest of cheesy!”

You blush, and I can’t help but kiss you. “Just as well I love you, your cheesy lines and all!”

We lie there, cocooned in our own bubble, talking about everything and nothing at all. The sun starts to descend, and I know we have to leave soon.

The beach scene begins to fade, taking you with it. I wake to another day where you are no longer in my world. At least until tonight.


Word Count: 243

It is just another day in paradise. We are sitting on the beach. It is our honeymoon. We are a perfect couple. My bleached-blonde hair looks nice against his olive skin. I smile. Jake is a generous lover. I can still feel his kisses all over my body. Mrs Black this time… It’s my fifth honeymoon in the past seven years. It’s my third time at Belize and it‘s getting old. Maybe Maldives next time?Tomorrow Jake will get on his boat and sail to the sea, the defective wire will cause the fire. A honeymoon tragedy. The inconsolable widow (me) will collect three million dollars in life insurance. Just one more day in paradise and I will be free to join my husband, partner and love of my life Edward Cullen.***My wife is sitting next to me on the beach. Bella. The name suits her. We do look good together. She is blonde and I have a black hair. We are a perfect couple. The sex is amazing too. I still have one more night with her. Bella, Nessie, Leah… The list is too long. I have to admit that I will miss Bella but I will do anything to keep my girlfriend Vicky happy.Tomorrow I will take my wife on a boat ride…Defective wire. Fire. Boom. Three million dollars in life insurance.***From a local newspaper: Honeymoon Tragedy. A Seattle couple married last weekend vanishes at sea.

Winners and Prompts for 8/23/2013

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


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."


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.


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.


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.


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.”

Hosted by JaimeArkins


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.

Winners and Prompts for 8/2/2013
Hosted by SixDlb5

Word count: 300

“I love you.”

My words are whispered against Edward’s cheek while I trace my thumb along the arch of his eyebrow. His eyelids flutter but don’t open. Skimming my fingers from his temple down to his jaw, I chuckle when he twitches, trying to escape my slumber-threatening caress.

Since he moved over to share my pillow sometime during the night, we’re nose-to-nose as I study him in the early morning light. Against the white sheets, his face is tan, relaxed. Peaceful. I should let him sleep, but…

I press my lips to his. “I love you.”

Still not quite awake, he mumbles my name and rolls away to lie on his back. Determined, I carefully pull the sheet down, and then crawl over him, hovering on all fours, trapping him underneath me.

Dipping my tongue into his navel, my hair falls forward to brush his skin. As I kiss a path up his abs, he grips the hanging strands, pushing them away from my face.

“You’re not gonna let me sleep, are you?” His deep, raspy voice sends a wave of desire pulsing through me. “What are vacations for?”

Raising my eyes to meet his, I smile playfully. “Fucking?”

Laughing, he sits us both upright, wrapping one arm around my bare back to steady me.

“And getting engaged.”

Tears spring to my eyes as he takes my left hand, tenderly fingering the ring he put there last night.

Gentle kisses quickly turn frantic, and when he shifts me off his lap, I know what he wants.

“Roll over, baby.”

Lying on my stomach, I moan as he fills me again and again. Covering me, he thrusts faster, sliding his fingers between mine. Neck arched, I cry out in pleasure.

Against my ear, he finally answers. “I love you, too, Bella.”

300 words

Your lips don’t kiss. They bruise and punish, suck at my skin until I’m covered in lovebites so dark there’s no love in them at all. Your hands are rough, your touch so careless that I wonder if you know what it means to be soft. You insist on being behind me when we have sex, and I tell myself it’s the position you like rather than the anonymity. Your hips thrust so hard I know there will be bruises on the back of my thighs all week. I know that I’ll feel you each time I sit - as if I don’t think about you often enough anyway.

I lay face down in a comforter that smells like another woman as you fuck me, because that’s the only word there is to describe the way you take pleasure from my body as though you’re owed it. Your weight pushes mine down into the mattress, your rhythm never faltering even as we fall. I thought I was past falling for you.

There’s a moment when your hands cover mine that I think, “This is it. This is when you start loving me back,” except all you actually do is admonish me for wrinkling the sheets. And then I remember that you have no love left - that you save it all for your wife and leave me with nothing but hate.

Your cock fills me, but I can’t remember a time I felt so empty.

You pull out roughly once you’ve come, disposing of the condom and shutting yourself in the bathroom. This has always been my cue to leave.

Except this time, I leave a note under your wife’s pillow before I walk out of your house for the last time.

Revenge doesn’t taste as sweet as I’d hoped.

Word count: 300

Face down.

Ass up.

This is my favorite position. You don’t complain.

I love and crave the way your body covers mine—the way you dominate me.

The intimacy of missionary has its merits as well, sure. And you love it when I get on top. But there’s something about this way.

It’s carnal.


I fucking need it.
Your skin slaps against mine, your hips to my ass. Your fingers dig into the fleshiest part of my hips as you plunge your cock into me in a hard but steady rhythm.

You do my most favorite thing. You lay your torso over mine, caging me.

My hands are fisting the sheets as your cock hits that spot inside that makes white spots dance across my vision.

You lace your fingers with mine, dropping hot kisses onto the back of my neck.

You’ve already made me come three times tonight—once with your tongue alone, once with your tongue and fingers working in tandem, and once while I rode your cock on your wife’s precious $5,000 Italian leather sofa.

My walls begin to flutter around you again, and you whisper hotly into my ear, “Don’t you dare come again. It’s my turn now.”

Your grip around my fingers tightens as your hips pound into me relentlessly.

I shatter around you just as you shudder and falter.

Sated, we fall together, your body still covering mine.

I relish your weight on me.

Moments later, you’re up and disposing of the condom. You slap my ass, and I giggle.

“You’d better go, beautiful. She’ll be home any minute.”

I give you my best pout but get dressed anyway. You kiss me passionately at the door, and I have no doubt of your love.

You’re leaving your wife next month.

I just know it.

258 words

What was it about last night?

We were both in rare form. When have I ever been more engrossed in a television show than you? When have you ever been so... needy feels like the wrong word. Demanding, perhaps. You were demanding of my attention, and when I didn’t give it to you...

When I ignored the way you started to press little kisses to my cheek, when I moved your hand off my thigh, you straddled me right there on the couch. That got my attention. There isn’t anything on television that’s better than your tits in my face, your fingers in my hair, and your ass sliding over my lap.

But baby, I was watching that. My minx. My beautiful brat.

Turnabout is fair play, love.

I know how much you love your sleep. You’re not a morning person. The way you sleep on your belly, your arms grabbing the pillow as if for dear life -- it’s adorable. I could watch you for hours.

But not today.

No. Today I steal your covers. You hate the cold, don’t you? But I’ll warm you up right quick. Just like this, with my hand between your legs. And you’re trying to get away, trying to get back to your blankets and sleep. But then your curses turn to moans and your shivers to sighs. That’s when I slide into you. Deep. Quick. You lift your head. I kiss your neck.

I didn’t really mind missing my show, and we may make a morning person of you yet.

Winners and Prompts for 7/26/2013
Hosted by Nicffwhisperer


Rochelle Allison/ @roglows
words: 295

“Does he know you're home?”
I shake my head, staring at Edward. He's been standing at the water's edge, silhouetted by a slowly setting sun, nearly as long as I've been standing here, watching him.
“Are you going to –”
I grab Alice's hand, squeezing until she quiets. I'm nervous enough as it is; I don't need her saying the same things I've been thinking all day...
No one knows I'm home – I'm a day early. I couldn't stay away from this place, and if I'm being honest with myself, from this boy. He sets me ablaze the way he always done, making me feel more than I have in a long time. I wonder if he still feels the same way, too.
It wasn't hard to find my friends. We've spent lifetimes on these shores, and no day is more significant than the first of summer. Life is different now, with college and jobs and friendships spread thin by distance and time, but somehow time stands still here. Like nothing is different at all.
And that's what I'm counting on.
A couple of friends wander by, hands clasped, faces open in surprise when they see me. They smile and hug me, eyes darting back and forth between me and the boy on the beach. They look almost as anxious as I feel.
Heart in my mouth, I rip my shirt off and drop it to the sand. I take one step, and then another, and then I'm flying across the warm expanse, nearly blinded by the sun.
I say his name. He pauses, jeans soaked heavy, hair dripping down his back...and catches me when I jump.
“I missed you.”
My eyes burn with salt.
“I've missed you, too.”


words: 300

She doesn’t get it. Bella doesn’t have any idea how hard it is for me to watch her laying there on the beach with her bikini top off and not try something. But I promised her that I’d be her friend forever.
You know what? Forever is a hell of a long time. Especially when all I want to do is fuck her into the sand.
Yeah, we’re friends. The best of friends, actually. But somewhere between playing in her tree house as kids and escorting her to prom in high school after she refused that Jake-dipshit, I sort of fell in love with her. Well, not really “sort of”—more like all-consuming, marriage, babies, mortgage, and growing-old-in-rocking-chairs-on-the-porch in love.
Fuck, I’m such a sap.
I push myself to stand and walk toward the waves. I need to take a breather. Yeah, that sound a hell of a lot better than being forced to lay there and not touch her the way I want to.
Just as I step into the surf, her scent swirls around me. It’s so Bella—soft lavender and the spiciness from the Merlot that we were drinking. Her little hands press down on my shoulders and she hops up onto my back. This isn’t our first piggy-back ride, but it is the first time her bare tits are smashed against my back.
“How long do I have to lay there topless before you decide to make love to me, Eddie?” I crane my head to look at her, shocked at the desire I see in them. It matches my own.
I drop us to the cool waves and kiss her like my life depend on it. It’s the beginning. This is the forever I want.



Word count: 300~~~~~~
“Go!” we yell at the same time as our feet kick up sand.
We run like mad toward the surf.
Last one there is a rotten egg.
Edward is getting ahead of me, but I know just how to gain the advantage. I work the tie loose on my top and hold it up.
“Hey, Cullen!” I shout, releasing the strings as my feet continue to fly.
His head turns, eyes widening.
He stumbles, trips.
I laugh as I pass him, raising my arms high in the air in victory.
Just as my toes meet the surf, strong arms wrap around my middle and my upper body lunges forward, my feet lifting off the ground.
“That was a dirty trick,” he growls into my ear.
“You like me dirty.”
Edward chuckles and play-bites my neck as he sets me back down onto the wet sand. I turn and jump into his arms, wrapping myself around him.
He’s so close. His face is tan, making his brilliant green eyes stand out even more. Tiny grains of sand are stuck to parts of his face, his hair a riotous mass of copper.
“I guess you win,” Edward says with a smirk.
“Guess so. Good thing you’re a boob-man.”
“I’m pretty much an everything-man.”
“Oh, really now?” I ask with a raised brow.
“An everything-Bella-man,” he corrects.
“Ah, much better.” I bring my lips to his and mumble against them, “What do I win?”
“Well,” he says before kissing me, “your trophy is about seven inches long.” Another kiss, moving to my jawline and neck, making me arch against him and moan. “It’s quite solid and of the highest quality.”
I giggle at his words and the tickle of his scruff against my skin. “It sounds kinda perfect.”


Word Count - 294

She’s been taunting me all day. Her white bikini leaves little to the imagination.
It’s identical to the one she wore on our honeymoon.
The one she wore as I made love to her in the sea for the first time.
Ten years later we’re back at the same beach, and I want to repeat history.
I smile as I turn on my side to face her. With sun-kissed skin and a blissful smile, she’s never looked more beautiful.
Her nipples pucker in the cool air, as I tug the ties on her bikini top and pull it from her, throwing it in the sand.
She shudders as my fingers trail over her exposed skin, avoiding the area that’s begging for my touch.
“Edward,” she gasps, threading her fingers through my hair.
“Come into the water with me,” I whisper against her lips.
She nods shyly as she stands and jumps on my back. I run into the water, ignoring her pleading and squeals as the waves crash over us.
As we emerge, she wraps her legs around my waist and my greedy fingers pull her bottoms to the side.
“Are you ready?” I ask, as my fingers find her swollen clit.
“Yes,” she moans.
I move us deeper into the water as her hand moves between us to free my hardened cock.
She whimpers when I remove my fingers, pushing her hips down, searching for friction. I answer her with a thrust of my own, groaning as I enter her fully.
We forget our surroundings as we focus solely on each other.
“It’s just like our honeymoon,” she moans, as I hit her favorite spot.
I sigh and kiss her softly. “No, it’s better.”
Her answering smile dazzles me.
“Happy Anniversary, Mrs Cullen.”

Winners and Prompts for 7/19/2013
Hosted by evilnat


Word count: 296

I ignore the buzz of my phone on my nightstand. I can’t talk to anyone right now.

I can’t talk.


I’m sprawled spread eagle on my bed. On the inside I’m writhing, begging for a reprieve from this nightmare. A wide awake nightmare.

Are my eyes open? Is my heart beating?


I’m trying to feel but I can’t. What am I supposed to? Am I supposed to? Is this why people self harm? To feel? To focus?

Crazy. They’ll call me crazy. Off.

Something’s off.


I curl in a ball on my chair in the middle of the room. Somewhere deep within me a voice is screaming get up! Get. Up. GET UP! Knock it off! Snap out of it! He’s not worth it!

But he is. He’s worth everything. I was stupid to do that, I know. To make him everything. I never wanted to be one of those people. I know better.

What have you done? Look at you, you’re pathetic.

But I don’t understand. Was I too much or not enough?

It hurts. The pain is so intense I can’t even tell where it hurts the most.


I lie on the floor and stare up at the popcorn ceiling. If I believed in God, I’d ask him to take me now.

I am frozen. Consumed. And certain that no one else has ever felt this way.

Because no one else had him.

I could laugh at the absurdity. I should hate him, but I take it all. I take whatever he gives me, and right now he’s giving me this. His absence.

Even as he damages me I cry for him.

Even as he slays me I die for him.

Even as he leaves me I’m lost for him.

Word count: 297

Sitting alone in the darkness and solitude of my childhood bedroom nearly drives me past the brink of sanity.

I quickly grab my jacket, not caring that the rain is pouring down outside. Standing on my porch, I rip my jacket off and toss it back into the house, suddenly craving the feel of the wet, cold drops falling on my skin.

I walk aimlessly for a while, soaked to the bone by the time I finally stop. I swallow and push open the wrought iron fence. I follow the worn path, careful to avoid the mud so I don’t slip.

When I reach the headstone I’m looking for, I drop to my knees.

“Everyone told me to just give it time, they said I’d be fine eventually.” I let out a cynical-sounding laugh. “Edward,” my voice breaks. I can feel the warmth of my tears mixing with the cold of the rain. “When is eventually going to get here? It’s been four months. I can barely breathe without you.”

I run my hand along the grooves in the headstone, tracing his name. The marble should feel cold to my touch, but it doesn’t, it feels warm. The wedding band that rests securely on my left ring finger and the dog tags nestled safely between my breasts seem to heat up as well.

It’s crazy to think that he’s somehow giving me a sign, isn’t it?

Just as I’m about to brush the feeling off, for the first time, I feel a kick.  My free hand clutches at my stomach. I can’t help it, I smile. A sense of peace rushes through me, calming me.

I take a deep breath and stand, blowing a kiss to the stone.

“I hope he has your eyes. I love you.”


Word count: 229


That’s all my mind does lately.

All my feet do.

There’s never a specific destination.

Just wandering.



You’ve been gone five months.

It’s never a conscious decision to seek you out.

My feet take me down the path in the woods where you told me I wasn’t good enough.

They take me to our meadow where you once told me I was everything.

My brain wanders around these conflicting thoughts.

It can’t make sense of them.

It wanders through memories of us--touching, kissing, laughing.

Through every ‘I love you,’ not believing them anymore.

Why should I?

Was any of it real?

You’re not coming back. I can feel it in the very marrow of my bones.

I’m lost now.


My feet have wandered past the spot where you stood and ripped my heart out.

Past our meadow full of happy, purple flowers.

My mind doesn’t recognize these surroundings--mossy rocks and sparse trees.

I hear water crashing against rocks in the distance.

My feet wander that way. My mind wants to see the chaotic waves.

When I reach the cliff, my mind wanders down the path of no return. How will it feel when my lungs fill with water? When I can’t breathe anymore?

Will my mind finally forget you?

Will I finally be able to let go?

My feet wander.

Right over the edge.


Words: 271

“Fallen” (Sarah McLachlan)

What am I supposed to do?

The room spins around me and my head matches the revolutions in a sickening, dizzying whirl. How did I let this get so messed up? I sat by, idly watching as the control I once had slipped right between my fingers and I just...allowed it. I permitted him to speak to me that way. I accepted the ache inside of myself and ran away. I signed off on my own downfall instead of fighting back.

Now, Rose truly believes that I’d been fucking Jake, and apparently Edward does as well. How can anyone believe that when I had him—the highest and most powerful of all sexual deities—at my fingertips? Edward’s life and mine have been intertwined by the fates, spun on the thread that held my entirety. It would seem, now, that the cotton has been cut as my world unravels around me.

My stomach lurches and my vision blurs in the twisting room and I slip off the chair, falling to my knees before the garbage can just in time to empty the contents of my stomach. Over and over, I heave until there is nothing left for me to surrender. The pain serves as a reminder of why I’m doing this; why I’ve made these choices, but also a reminder of just how lost I really am.

But then Ben opens the door, knocking lightly before he steps inside. As I fall into the strong arms of my best friend, sobbing in frustration, I remind myself that I haven’t lost yet. No. The battle has just begun.


Word Count 283

I watch as you sleep on our couch.

Curled in the fetal position, it’s as if you’re trying to protect yourself from something. Even in slumber, your thoughts are consumed by darkness.

I want to smooth the frown lines between your eyes, wishing that just for once,
your dreams at least, are a happy place.

Recently, it seems that everything makes you cry, and I hate how helpless I am
in all of this.

I used to be able to make you smile or laugh, no matter the situation. Your
eyes danced with mirth as you played your practical jokes.

Now, your tears are my demons.

“Edward,” you murmur, and my heart breaks just a little more.

You begin to whimper, and I consider waking you, to calm you. Only, that didn’t
go too well last time.

“No…Edward…Sorry…” Your voice breaks and tears roll down your face.

I hate the tears.

Drawn to you, I move from my chair and take you in my arms.

You stiffen, and I brace myself, unsure of which Bella I’m going to be faced

“Edward?” your murmur.

“I’m here,” I soothe, kissing your forehead softly.

Your arms wrap around my neck. “I’m so sorry,” you sob. I feel your tears on my

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, baby,” I whisper.

You sigh, melting into my embrace.

I close my eyes, cherishing this moment, unsure of when the next one will come.

Pushing the hair from your face, I look into your tired eyes.

“We’ll beat this won’t we?”

I smile softly, “Of course we will.”

For the first time in weeks, you smile—a proper Bella smile—and I know we’ll be


Words: 296

“Compose yourself Bella,” I growl at my reflection.

The girl looking back at me isn’t the girl I saw when I came in here. That girl was full of hope. The girl I see now knows it’s over. The tears stain her face like battle scars as she clutches a stick, her knuckles turning white.

I know I should be happy, I should feel blessed. But instead I feel dread and emptiness.

I’m so lost.

I know I shouldn’t have let him pursue me. I knew it would blow up in my face. But I went with my heart and I let myself fall without thinking of the consequences. I just thought of him and the way his smile made everything better, and the way his fingers could make me feel so alive.

Now I won’t ever be able to forget the way he made me feel, because the evidence of our love for one another is growing inside of me.

I know I have to keep this to myself. Even if his promises and declarations of love are true, this could ruin him. It could ruin everything if I let this slip.

No matter what my feelings are for him, I’m just the help. I wish I remembered
that before all this happened.

I don’t have time to dwell on my mistakes, I need to do my job.

I hold my head up high as I dispose of the test. Securing a smile on my face I grab the tray of appetizers. It’s my job to make sure this event goes smoothly, it’s the most important one of the year for our country.

Today I’m working Prince Edward’s engagement party, and the future Princess has no idea I’m having his baby. And neither does he.

Winners and Prompts for 7/12/2013
Hosted by SureThing


Word count: 300

Stupid fucking truck.

It would choose to break down in the middle of a motherfucking monsoon.


There are only two other cars in the parking lot, the game long since finished.

I had to stay and help put away the equipment though. 'Ball girl' they call me.

Yeah. Fifteen sweaty teenage boys asking me to take care of their balls.

Fucking hilarious.

Huddled next to the brick wall of the gym, I search my bag for my phone.

"Hey, you okay? Need a ride?"

Fuck, that's a sexy voice. I glance up to see who owns it, and holy shit. "Cullen?"

He runs a hand through his wet hair, and my mouth falls open. I've only ever seen it parted on one side, combed down straight.

But right now it's this beautiful mess framing his face, some of it flopping onto his forehead with water steadily dripping off the ends.

His glasses are in his hand, probably too spotted or streaked with water to see through. Piercing green eyes blink back at me, framed by thick, dark lashes.

The white t-shirt clinging to his body shows off defined muscle--firm pecs, solid abs, that delicious V peeking out of his jeans, hard little nipples.

His jeans are soaked, showing off thick, muscular thighs, and I lick my lips.


"When did you get so fucking hot?" I blurt out.

Subtle, I am not.

His face twists in confusion. "Huh?"

"Seriously. Have you always been this hot?"

He rubs the back of his neck. "Um, I don't know. I've been working out, and-"

"No shit." I'm still gaping at him.

Edward glances toward the parking lot and back, still seemingly baffled. "So, uh... ride?"

I step forward and press my wet body to his. “Oh, yeah. I definitely want a ride."


Word Count: 299

Your rain-soaked t-shirt clings to you like a second skin. My eyes hungrily roam your body.

Your muscles twitch beneath my wandering hands. As I move lower I hear your sharp intake of breath.

I love that with a simple touch, I have this effect on you.

“What about—“

“Don’t,” you mutter. “Don’t you dare say her name.”

Your hands are on the button of my jeans. The rain has soaked them through, but you still manage to push them past my hips.

“I refuse to think of her when I’m with you.”

“She wants to work things through.” I gasp as your fingers move deftly beneath my panties.

“I don’t care,” you growl. “She signed our divorce papers the day she cheated.”

My weak argument comes to an abrupt end as your fingers find my sensitive flesh.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet.”

“For you,” I whimper as your thumb finds my clit.

The rain continues to pound us, but I barely notice.

I fumble with your belt. “Don’t. I just want to see you fall apart.” Your urgent voice coupled with your expert fingers brings me to the edge within minutes.

“Edward,” I gasp.

“You’re mine Bella. You’re going to go back inside and finish things with him.”

I look back to my house, the lights glowing through the darkness. You grasp my chin and turn my attention back to you. “Don’t look. This is all that matters right now. Right here. Right now.”

I tighten around your fingers and bite back a moan as my orgasm approaches.

“Say it. Say you’ll do it.”

Your thumb presses my clit, and your name falls from my lips. I come hard. Your fingers continue their sweet torture as I descend from my high.

“Yes. I’ll finish it.”


Word count: 299

"You sleep like the dead!" I rub my eyes and see my roommate standing over my bed. "Your phone has been ringing nonstop and that guy is yelling from under your window again. It's 3AM."

I grab my shoes, and groggily rush down the stairs. I see Edward Cullen, holding his phone to his ear, frowning up at my window, like every other night. I tremble near the wall, realizing that I have no bra on and that it's fucking raining.

"What do you want?" I hiss.

"Bella," he grins because he knows I have to see him to get him to leave.


"A kiss?"

"For the last time, you aren't getting in my pants." I yawn and stretch my arms.

"Those pants are nice," he smirks and closes the distance between us. He pins my arms above me. I'm trapped. He teasingly dips the forefinger of his free hand into the waistband of my yoga pants. I shiver. "But I think they're too small for me."

Normally, I can successfully send him away. Tonight, though, my fatigue has ruined everything. I notice his shirt to cling to his body. As I do, his hand creeps further into my panties. I gasp as he rubs me. I'm sure he can feel my arousal. While I'm distracted by the pleasure, he kisses me.

Then, he pulls back and pushes my hair out of my face. His eyes are overwhelmingly tender as he brings one of my hands to his erection.

"Please." I feel his breath against my face, and with little thought other than how much I want him inside me, I answer.


Hidden behind the trees and against the brick of my building, Edward gets what he's always wanted.


Word count: 299

“Fuck, come on!” I pound my dash as I miss the light.

Work kicked my ass today, and now I’m racing home late. I need these heels off and my sweats on. I need a glass of wine and my favorite throw blanket. Right after I feed the kids, get them bathed, and do the dishes. Shit, I’m exhausted.

I’m on autopilot, when I see movement outside. It’s a couple up against a building. In the pouring rain.

“Thaaat’s unfortunate,” I scoff.

And then I really see them. He’s leaning into her. They’re soaked but smiling. Kissing. Handsy.

In a flash I’m envious. Edward and I were them once. Uninhibited. Unabashedly affectionate. Oblivious to anything but each other. I miss the days of our young love.

A car honks at me when the light changes, and jars me back into the present.

I arrive home hurried and flustered to find the house quiet, warm. There’s a fire already lit. Edward is seated at the table with our girls. They’ve eaten and he … did he make cookies? Oh god, I could jump him right here and now!

“Welcome home, babe.” The previous ten hours immediately melts away with his smile and I want to cry in relief. And joy. I’m on the verge of tears when I collapse in his arms.

He hands me a glass of wine, and with a gentle kiss ushers me toward the bedroom.

“Let me finish with the girls, then I’ll come take care of you,” he whispers.

I think back to the couple in the rain. We used to be them. But now we’re this. They won’t be this for at least another fifteen years.

I hear my girls laugh with their daddy in the other room.

I wouldn’t trade this for the world.


Word Count: 300

I don't know why I'm here. I shouldn't be here...waiting for him in the pouring rain. He broke my heart and left me in the dust. He's engaged.

I will be too. Soon.

I picture Jake's rugged-yet-beautiful face in my head and start walking home. I don't hear anything, but suddenly, I'm pulled backward and shoved against a wall. He towers over me, his bright green eyes clouded with rage.

“I've been looking everywhere for you.” His words are immersed in venom, his hate for me.

I look at him square in the eyes. “I'm here. What do you want?”

He stares at me as the anger in his eyes melts into...desolation. I strain to hear his whisper. “Are you really going to marry him?”

The nerve of this man...

I ball my hand into a fist. “Yes.”

“But why? You don't love him.”

I scoff. “I don't love him? How exactly did you come that conclusion, Mr. Cullen?” I all but snarl at him.

“Because you love me.” There's a small smirk at the corner of his lips. It's the last straw for me.

After everything that's happened, after years of being a part of this one-sided love, he admits it now?

He's too late.

I shove at him with everything that I have and run...only to be dragged back and trapped again.

His face is mere inches from mine, his eyes coal-black. I struggle against him. “You love me. No one else can have you. You. Are. Mine.”

Before I can reply, he kisses me, his lips soft and yielding compared to his tight grip. I can't escape, so I do what I've dreamed of doing since middle school; I wrap my arms around his neck and fall into him.

Winners and Prompts for 7/5/2013
Hosted by twilover76


Word count: 300

The scenery whizzes by, greens and browns blending together as I keep my gaze fixed on the window.

I can't look at you.

Your warm hand rests on my thigh, just above my knee-high boots. They kill my feet, but I love the way you look at me when I wear them to school. How you lick your lips when I walk past you to reach my desk.

Sitting in the back row, no one can see when I grasp your hand and move it under my skirt.

You love chaperoning class trips.

I bite my lip in anticipation at your sharp inhale as you come into contact with the damp fabric of my little cotton panties.

One long finger hooks under the elastic, gliding through the wetness, spreading, pressing.

I’ve had the most elaborate dreams starring those fingers. You talk with your hands in class. Your fingers distract me from learning the facts that you tick off on them.

My teeth press even harder into my bottom lip as your probing finger slides easily inside.

My eyes fall shut as I keep my face angled toward the window.

If I looked at you now, I'd give us away.

I want to see your sea-green eyes. I want to watch your lips part, your tongue snaking out to wet them as you feel what you do to me.

A second finger slips inside, and a strangled whimper escapes me.

Your thumb can’t reach my clit from this angle, but you use the heel of your hand, and it’s perfect.

Pressure and friction combine and combust until I shatter silently around you.

You wipe your fingers
on the underside of my skirt, but I know you want to taste them.

Your sharp jaw ticks in my periphery, and I whisper, “Tonight.”

Second Place

Word Count: 300

He wore a pair of jeans and a green t-shirt, both soaked by the rain. He ran a hand through his hair, spraying droplets of water everywhere.

I instinctively jerked my knee away as water flew in my direction. The movement attracted his attention, his startling green eyes snapping up to mine.

His emerald eyes wandered down my body and a hot blush immediately coated my cheeks. His eyes met mine again and a crooked smile spread across his face.

“Sorry.” He smirked. “Can I…sit with you?”

“Y-yes.” I stuttered.

He grinned and plopped down next to me, sighing contently. He extended his long legs in front of him.

I quickly turned away from him. For a while, we rode in silence. Until I felt it.

His fingers gently brushed down the side of my thigh. I gasped and my eyes snapped towards him. He stared back, his expression completely nonchalant.

Tingles spread across my body and I had to repress a sigh. His fingers brazenly trailed up my thigh and my hand instinctively grabbed his, halting his progress.

His lips turned upwards at the corner. He laughed softly and nodded, pulling back.

The bus slowed to a stop once more and he got up, walking to the door. Before he got off he shot me a wink and another breathtaking smile. “Can’t wait to see you again.”

I had no idea what he meant until I got up to get off at my own stop and a folded piece of paper fell to the ground. I picked it up, my heart pounding in my chest when I saw the row of numbers listed. I had no idea when he’d written them. Below it was a small message:

You’re beautiful. Hope to see you again, Bus-girl.

Third Place


"Where have you been?"

He intends to sound accusatory as he grabs my knee, pulling me across the seat - but all I hear is need, buried deep in his throat.

He's all buttoned up, crisp black on clean white. Hair just cut. Sunglasses on.

Eye contact is delicate and volatile matter here.

"You're always hiding." He slides his hand higher, just under sunshine yellow skirt
cotton, studying me, watching me twist my waterbottle cap in my lap. "Why?"

Acuteness, endowment, and the promise of total destruction radiate from his touch.

"Where do you go, little poet?"

Long, strong, never-calloused fingertips brush my teenage skin while I pour all my wishing into wringing the bottle's neck, while Eric Packer simply does what he loves best -

I don't need to be one of his wonder-geniuses to know -

This is dangerous.

He finds patterns in my breathing, in my thoughts and heartbeats, and claims them his.

I deny it.

But they are.

"Look at me," he says, his regard heavy under sunglasses. "Stop hiding."

Taking his familiar right hand under mine, I bring it under my pristine skirt and press his palm where my pulse is pounding. Giving him what he seeks, the patterns in me that tremble undeniably possessed, I take his glasses and put them on myself.

Now, I'm real.

And his bare eyes are so blue.

I can't marry you, I nearly scream.

Marriage is a contract, and it will find me out, and you won't want me anymore...

"All night sex in the minaret wasn't enough?" I ask instead. "Sunrise in the chapel?
Being my first, right here in this car wasn't enough? Being my only, ever?"

His propensity toward obscene instinct has him above me in the next beat.

Even his stillness is threatening.

Especially this stillness.

"No," he says, staring through lenses, pushing hard between my legs. He lays his right hand on my neck.

"I'm going to make you my wife," he whispers. "And then I'm going to bottle-fuck

Through the lush daze of cool leather seats and the weight of him like a god, I remember desperately twisting my waterbottle, wishing through aching.

"Slowly," he continues.

He means to warn.

"With my sunglasses on."

But all I hear is yearning.

Honorable Mention

Word count: 300

Deft fingers on creamy, bare skin. He tickles, firm, but soft. Ghosting, they glide up slowly, methodically, under the ruffled fabric of her skirt.

She shifts her hips, opening up to him.

He slowly pushes higher, until he reaches what he seeks.

Humming, she looks ahead to the other cars passing by. They have no idea that the man sitting next to her has his fingers buried inside.

Bella licks her lips, and looks at the striking man sitting beside her. This is too good to be real. Excitement bubbles in her chest as he presses and circles, drawing out her pleasure for his own gain.

He smirks as he whizzes by another car. The top is down and although they cannot see, he knows what he’s doing is wrong, yet feels so right.

Wetness seeps from her core, her panties pushed to the side, also drenched. His fingers are relentless against her flesh as she presses her clenched fist against her parted lips to stifle her screams as she comes undone.

Long, wet fingers leave a trail on her thigh then get pushed between her lips as she sucks them dry. Tangy sweetness on her tongue, she closes her eyes and crosses her legs, pulling her skirt back in place.

His eyes haven’t left the highway. He hasn’t even spoken one word to her. Not since he picked her up and promised his ex-wife he’d bring her home.

“This is my house, Mister Cullen. Same time next week?” she asks, before getting out of the car.

He nods in confirmation. “Have a good night, Isabella.” And watches as the eighteen year old babysitter skips to the front door to her house.

He knows what he did was wrong, but he can’t help himself.

Next week couldn’t come soon enough.

Winners and Prompts for 6/28/2013
Hosted by PAWsPeaches


Word Count: 300

“What’re you doing up here?”

Trying to breathe.

“I drank too much.”

“Me too.”

The bed dips. Your head presses into the pillow, turned to watch me. Our eyes shaded in the dark.

“I want everyone to go home.”

I never wanted them here at all.

“It’s your party. You can kick them out.”

“Yeah, but I feel bad. They’ve come to say goodbye.”

Don’t say that word.

You play with my fingers, counting my nails, tracing my knuckles. “I can’t believe I’m finally going. What are you gonna do without me?”

You’re the blood flowing through my veins, my heart’s beat. The air that sinks into my lungs and lifts my chest in a rhythm of your making. My vital signs.

“I will most likely die.”

You laugh.

I’m not joking.

“You will not. I’ll be back before you know it.”

It’s not enough.

“I’ll miss you.” Your voice is weighted with intoxicated sleep.

A childhood spent in each other pockets yet my words have fallen through a hole in the lining. They dissolve unrequited on my tongue.

“I’ll miss you too.” A whisper only I hear.


I wake and wipe the dust of the night from my eyes. You’re gone.

An impression in the crumpled sheets is all that’s left with the heaviness of things unspoken.

Curling against your pillow, the scent of rivers and bonfires stutters a weak pulse that fades with the memory.

My fingers are clasped around my knees, pulling me tighter to hold the pieces together, when I see it.

Your scrawl, sliding up the inside of my knee in black marker, jump-starts everything.

I couldn’t leave without telling you. I've only ever wanted you.

I chase the sunrise to give you my words before you leave.

I love you. Take me with you.


Word Count: 300

Seeing you walk into the bar makes my fingers falter on the strings.

You're more beautiful than ever.

My heart hammers against my ribcage as our eyes lock before you make your way to a table near the stage.

I haven't seen you in a month.

We've always fought like brother and sister, but this time was different.

I couldn't deal with your asshat of a boyfriend anymore, and you got tired of being in the middle.

Unfortunately, I was the one who had to go.

The small smile you give me makes warmth take root in my chest; I grin down at my guitar as I begin singing the next verse.


Removing my sweaty sock cap and running a hand through my hair as you approach me, I brace myself for whatever you've come here to say. We both said hurtful things to each other, but I can't lose you all together.

"Hey." You’re smiling.


"Great set tonight."

"Thanks." My hand rubs the back of my neck. A nervous habit.

"I'm sorry," we both say at the same time.

"You go."

"I broke up with Jake. You were right about him."

"Oh, that's..." awesome "...too bad."

Your familiar snort relaxes me. "Yeah, well. I really am sorry for the things I said, and...I just want my best friend back. I miss you, Edward."

Best friend.

It's now or never. This last month just about killed me.

"Thing is..." The skin on my neck may not survive the night. "I really wanna be more than just friends."

Your wide brown eyes shimmer in the low light just before you launch yourself at me, your hand replacing mine on the back of my neck.

Catching you is second nature. Hugging you again helps me breathe.

Kissing you...is everything.


Word Count: 300


I flip the tab on the beer can and hand it over, taking a seat at his side.

“Tell me again what happened?”

When he’d called me from the club, all I could hear was Pit Bull rapping in the background.

He sighs a familiar sigh. Everything about Edward is familiar, my best friend since second grade when Mikey Newton snuck a caterpillar down my dress and Edward shoved a stink bug down his throat, instantly becoming, “My Hero.”

I’ve never been more than “My Homegirl,” to him.

“She said she was moving to L.A. and didn’t see the point in staying together. Then she admitted that she was fucking her agent. The confession was preceded by an “I’m sorry,” so I suppose it’s okay.” He shrugs and takes a drink from his can.

If his sarcastic streak is still intact, it can’t be that bad. I’m the one who usually mends his broken heart, yet I’m never the one who gets to keep it.

I trail a hand over his muscular arm, wondering how it would feel to trace the path with my mouth.

“Tanya was high-maintenance, Edward. You need someone as easygoing as you are.”

We open the sleeper sofa and watch a movie, falling asleep halfway through - also something familiar.

I wake to honking horns and blaring sirens seeping through the window.

Edward lies flat on his back, gazing at me in a manner that’s not at all familiar.

He reaches out and tangles our fingers together. “How long have we been friends, Bella?”

“Fifteen years.”

“Fifteen years,” he echoes. “It’s taken me that long to see…”

I know where he’s going. I know everything about Edward. I’ve been waiting for him to see.

Our fingers laced together, they mimic what both our hearts finally feel.


Words: 297

Getting into a fight always seems like a better idea before it starts than when you’re laying on your back licking your wounds and begging for no broken bones.

“Oh my god! Edward!” Bella leans down next to me, her hand covering her mouth as sobs threaten to escape. Her eyes pleading for me to be okay.

“I’m fine, just looking at the stars,” I force out a laugh as I see the guy that tried to feel up my best friend huff and walk away. He won the fight, but Bella ended up by my side not his. I can’t complain much.

“Edward Cullen!” She smiles as tears fill her eyes. I tug her down on the grass next to me.

She lays down and looks up at the stars with me, not saying anything for awhile. I know she’s organizing her thoughts, because being her best friend comes with the privilege of knowing everything about her. So I wait, I give her the time she needs.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“But I do. You saved me from a guy that doesn’t know the meaning of the word no. You always do E, even at the first house party of our senior year you risked social suicide to save me.”

I look at her and I know, I can’t hold it back anymore. My hearts starts pounding as I spill my guts. “Bella, I will always save you. You’re everything to me. I wish you would see the selfishness in my actions. Because the thing is, I really want to be more than just friends.”

I hold my breathe as she twists her hands with mine and gives me her secret smile. “Oh Edward Cullen, I thought you’d never ask.”


Word Count: 300

She opened the expected letter with apprehension. One per week while he was away, but this one felt heavy. She had sensed a shift in tone over the last few weeks, but refused to read too much into it.

~ A Serious Request For My BFF ~


This is my last letter before I return home. I just want to say thank you for keeping your promise. For writing me. Being away has been tough, but your words helped close the distance of time and space. I love you to death, like, literally. You know that, right? You’ve been my closest, dearest friend for … well, forever. You know me better than I know myself (that pisses me off – you know that, too). You’ve been my cheerleader, and my reality check. You know my scars and who put them there. You know my darkest desires and deepest secrets.

But one thing you don’t know is this: I want more.

I want to call you mine in the most complete sense of the word. I don’t want to continue knowing all these things about you, about us, and just keep it at that. I don’t want to pretend to be happy with what I get from you, and what I get to share with you. I’m not happy any more. I feel like I can’t love with my whole heart until I can love with the part I have reserved for you. It’s not fair, really. Or right.

I’ve thought so much about us. I know there’s more to our story, don’t you?

Have I ruined everything?

I know you love me, too. So, I guess I’m calling you out here.

~ E.

She stood frozen in shock, elation, and anticipation.

He comes home tomorrow.

He’s wrong. She knew. She’s known for a while.

Winners and Prompts for 6/21/2013
Hosted by Edmazing

Jonesn Fanfiction
word count: 300

I try to watch the road, peeking at you out the corner of my eye.

Your hair blowing in the breeze, your hand coasting the wind.

The smile pulling at your lips, makes mine do the same, and I don’t want to just look at you anymore.

I never just want to look at you, your hair and your hands and your lips.


All of you.

It’s almost painful, just looking.

Pulling off the shoulder, I take the old, beaten path, stirring up dirt and dust in my wake.

The winged seeds break from the surrounding trees, flutter and fly around you, falling into your lap and your hair and you laugh, picking them off and throwing them out to crunch under the turn of the slowing tires.

The lake’s just beyond the bush, the sun casting its glare, glimmering in waves and waves off the rolling, muddy water.

You watch it as I come to a stop, climb into the backseat, making you squeal in surprise as I take you with me.

Pushing open the back door, you try to escape, but I’ve got you.

I’ve always got you, wrapped in my arms to keep you where you belong.


Right here.

Giggling, you wiggle as I lie back, settling yourself on top of me, stomach to fluttering stomach, chest to beating chest.

Looking into those bashful, brown eyes, I hold your hair in my hands; lightly fingering the soft, auburn sheen and feel yours cradle the back of my head to pull my lips to your lips.

I can still taste the summer, sunset citrus you smeared on long before we left, the sweet tang coating my tongue as it slithers out to seek yours. And I feel like I could kiss you forever.

Forever and always.


Word Count: 296

"Did you like your nickname when you were little? Teddy, I mean," I clarify as though he had more than one.

"Mmm. I don't know. I guess I didn't really think about whether I liked it or not," Edward says as he tilts his head back a bit further into the soft, worn leather of the seat. His water bottle rests on the exposed skin of my lower back, his pinky just brushing against me now and then, with his right arm stretched above his head. His eyes are closed and he looks peaceful, almost as though he were asleep. "Why do you ask?"

"I think it's cute."

He scrunches his eyes closed tighter and laughs, jostling me a bit where I lay on his chest.

"Well, I've kind of grown out of it."

"Not for you. For a kid, a baby." I stretch my hand up above his head and grab his hand in both of mine. Our stomachs touch where our shirts ride up and the hair below his belly button tickles me.

"A baby, huh?" He smirks and cracks one eye open.

I nod, a bit nervously. I want him to be as excited as I am.

"Really?" he asks, a grin creeping onto his face.

"Yeah," I say softly, returning the grin.

"So, how long would you say we have to decide if Teddy seems like a good nickname for a baby?"

"A little less than eight months."

He brings both hands to my face and stares at me, his eyes studying as if he hadn't looked at me a million times.

"Are you happy?" I ask. I have to hear him him say it.

He answering smile is blinding. "I think, right now, that happy doesn't even begin to describe it."


Name: Chocaholic123
Word Count: 298

The summer sun beats down. Its warming rays dance across my skin, bleaching hairs and stirring memories I try to repress. Every year it's the same; like a hibernating animal awakening from a winter's sleep my libido stretches and curls. Your name trips across my tongue in a litany of prayers.

My skin tingles with the synaptic recall of your caresses. Invisible lines forged by your fingers are burned into my body, created when we were little more than children, made permanent by your persistent touch.

You'll break my heart again when you haphazardly stuff your cases in your trunk, pulling your Raybans down to block out the reflection of the September sun. But it's still June, and I let the butterflies flutter in my chest when I see a trail of dust in the distance, the air filled with the buzzing of weed whackers as gardeners clear a trail to your summer home.

I know you'll seduce me with a smile. I know I'll let you.

Down at the lake the water warms up, still sand disturbed by a hundred happy toes. I remember nights curled up with you by the shore, you moving inside me, whispering promises we both knew you couldn't keep. Every year it gets a little harder to fill the void you create, but still I let you dig at my soul until there's nothing left.

The dust cloud gets closer, and I can make out a car; new and shiny, the top pulled down so you can be baked by the same sun. I stand by the road, my body trembling with need, watching as you slow down to a halt.

You open the door and pull me inside, our legs tangling, our laughter mingling as your lips devour mine.

"I'm back."


Word count: 244

My fingers drum on the steering wheel. The wind whips through my hair.

Three hours. Only three more hours.

What's three hours on top of thirty days? When it's all that's left, it feels like a lifetime.

My convertible continues to rumble down the highway, and the engine protests as I floor the gas pedal. I know she can handle it though. She's been there since the beginning. She was there through all the firsts. She took us on our first date, to prom, on summer road trips, to college, and now she's gonna take me right back where I belong.

I exit the highway and it feels like the car is driving itself. She knows the way.

She takes me down the familiar dirt road that leads to you. But really, all roads lead to you.

It's always been you.

When I pull up in front of the quaint white house, you're already waiting. I leave the engine idling as I step out to get to you faster, but you beat me to it.

You're down those stairs and in my arms before I can stand up. And then we're both back in the car.

Right where we belong.

"Never again," I whisper between kisses to your face. "I told them I won't travel anymore."

"Never, Edward," you make me promise.

And it's right. The right time and the right place, because everything happens here.

"Marry me, Bella."

Your smile is breathtaking.



Name: CullensTwiMistress

Word count: 300


I hate it.

Middle of nowhere with a flashlight and a tent. No running water. Friends all coupled off except for Cullen.

I hate Cullen.


“Bella, we’re going for a hike, you coming?” Rose asks.


I’m a sulky bitch, but whatever. I don’t hike. Give me a book and some bug spray, and I’m golden.

“You staying here?”

Ugh. Cullen.

I shrug. “Yeah. You?”

“Hiking. Not my thing.”

I nod. At least we agree on something.

My book’s good. Cullen…not so much. He’s distracting. All hard body and slick skin. His hair a dishevelled mess. He’s almost attractive. Meh, who am I kidding?

“Hey, Bella?”

My eyes slide up to his face. He smirks, knowingly. Asshole.

“You wanna go for a ride?”


“Come on. I don’t bite.”

I wish.

“Fine. But don’t try anything.”

I hate him.

He opens the door for me and I slide in. “Where are we going?”

“Beer run.”

The store isn’t far.

The way his forearm flexes every time he shifts is hard to ignore.

I hate him.

He puts the twenty-four into the back seat along with some bottled water, and gives me a knowing smirk.

Damn him and his sexiness.

“Find something you like, Bella?”

“Shut up.”

The ride back to the campsite is silent. Thank god.

I get out of the car and go around, but I trip on a branch and with a huff, fall onto Edward as he’s reaching into the back seat for the water.


“Are you okay?”

He holds me on top of him, one hand smoothing the hair back from my face; the other shifting my body so that I’m pressed comfortably against his.

I nod, looking into his eyes.

He grins and presses his lips to mine.

“I don’t hate you.”


Word Count: 299

“You’re doing great,” he says, shaking excess water from his head. It lands in gleaming droplets all over his face.

I watch a bead of moisture make its way down his long neck, trickling down the taut curve of his pectoral muscle, before landing on his firm, dark nipple.

My tongue wets my lips as I imagine licking that wet, soft spot on his chest.

His hand rests lazily on the fabric of his wetsuit, which is turned down to the waist. His other hand covers his face as yawns, before moving to join the other hand.

He whips the lower half of the wetsuit off.

I forget how to breathe.

I would never have considered a Speedo sexy.

But now that I see my kayak instructor, with his untamed hair and sun-kissed skin, water dripping down his perfectly sculpted six pack, the sexy “v” shape of his muscles dipping into the waistband of the scant navy fabric, I am mesmerised.

He’s talking, but the words are a blur.

I want to run my tongue along that “V”…

He tugs on my ponytail, interrupting my dirty thoughts.

“You need me to unzip you?” he asks. My cheeks heat - I’ve been caught staring. I quickly nod and turn around. The zip opens - his fingers linger against my skin longer than would be considered appropriate.

The heat pooling between my thighs finds it very appropriate.

I shake the wetsuit out, letting it fall to the floor.

He’s chugging from a bottle of water - I lick my lips again.

I want to be that bottle.

He releases it with a pop, offering it to me. I step forward, tripping on the wetsuit, sending us both flying through his open car door onto the backseat.

I gasp.

He’s rock hard.

Winners and Prompts for 6/14/2013
Hosted by Six Dlbfive

First Place

Name: CullensTwiMistress
Word count: 300

My heart is going to beat right out of my chest and land on the ground.
The sound of my own scream gets lost in the midst of the rustling branches and leaves. I know she’s out here.
I saw her run out of the church, down the gravel driveway and into these woods.
Where is she?
With every inhale and exhale, my ribs ache from the cool air filtering in my lungs.
Leaning against a fallen tree, I spot a beaten path and an opening with some steps that seem to be carved out of the earth and trees.
“Bella?” I sigh, my voice faltering when I see her small figure balled up with her shoulders hunched and shaking; her white dress dirty and snagged.
She looks up at the sound of my approaching footsteps. Her cheeks are stained black from the mix of tears and mascara; her eyes shallow and her lips quivering.
“Edward?” Her voice is strained, but soft.
“Why did you run?” I kneel on the step below her and wipe her cheeks, listening to her sniffles as she stares at my face, her eyes wild.
“I couldn’t … I just couldn’t.”
My eyes bore into hers. For a brief moment I forget I was supposed to be the best man.
“Why not?”
She breaks out in another round of sobs and I instinctively wrap my arms around her, pulling her into me. I love this woman. More than I should. Seeing her like this absolutely breaks me.
“I can’t marry him, Edward.” I feel her lips against my skin as she speaks. The mere whisper of her breath sends a chill through my body.
I pull back slightly, searching her eyes. “Why not, Bella?” I implore, needing answers.
“Because he’s not you.”


word count: 300

She laughed at his seriousness.
Sixteen and tangled up, twirling, star gazing through treetops.
“I want a love that breathes meaning into life!” she screamed into the night. “A love that wants happiness above all else, no matter the cost.” Her words sprouted wings, twinkling into the sky like fireflies. “Do you believe in that kind of love, Edward?”
Spellbound, his heart clamored wild and uncertain.
“Oh, but you’re only thirteen,” she laughed again, floating down to earth to kiss his nose. “How would you know?”
But he did know. The stars counted how many times he’d dreamed of her, infinite, never-ending. He is a supernova; fated to burn and die and be born again.
She spins again and he is a North Star, knowing as long as he breathed he would love her.
The scandal was legendary, whispers and shock, a cake that would never be eaten.
He ran, only him, because the trees hid secret places only they knew.
Twenty-eight and she’s beautiful still, even broken and wet-eyed, sprawled in the grass. Her white satin sparkled in the few sunbeams that survive the twisted canopy of leaves.
“I’m sorry,” he said, out of breath. He jerked his bow tie and threw it on the ground.
“It doesn’t feel real..." slowly, her voice faint. “Everything’s muffled, in a mist. I feel like water draining through too much sand.”
Dropping to his knees, he lifted her chin.
“Don’t." She wiped under her eyes. “I was pretty an hour ago.”
He shook his head, kissing her fingertips.
“He didn’t love me, not really. I only saw what I wanted to see.” Her head lay soft against his shoulder. “Why didn’t I believe you?”
He sighed.
“Edward.” Sniffing, she trembled against him. “Will you stay?”
“Always," he whispered. "I’ve been here the whole time.”


Word Count: 298

I find you over the rise of the hill. Your dress and tears, all for him, fall into the dust.
You turn to me with red-rimmed eyes and ask me why he does this to you.
I don't know. It's all I can say, because if you were mine ...
Like the hundreds of times before, I wrap my arms around you. Whisper words to dry your tears and make you smile.
I press my lips to your hair. Summertime and pear drops.
Lace my fingers with yours, brushing my thumb over the raised silver line on your wrist—a childhood memory of our tree house.
I know the story behind every single mark on your skin.
I know you hate jelly and love peanut butter.
You love to dance to rock music but secretly adore terrible 80's pop.
You look at me with deep brown eyes, brimming with hurt, rejection, and betrayal. I want to punch his face, break something so he stops doing this to you.
The sunshine has kissed your freckles. A constellation I could draw with my eyes closed.
I hold you and tell you you're my world. An old joke you always giggle at, but it's so true.
I'll never love anyone the way I love you.

He comes to find you.
You tell me you'll be back later. Leave me with a hope-filled smile that'll be crushed the next time he feels like it.

I sit alone and watch the sun set fire to the sky.
To you, I am a safe harbour from the storm, but truthfully, I'm a ship tossed against razor sharp rocks, splintered and sinking. I can feel myself drowning, and for the first time, I realise I have to save myself.
Tomorrow, I'll tell you I'm leaving.


Word Count: 300

“Always a bridesmaid, never a bride.”
Mrs. Brandon’s words run through my head again. Although she was teasing, her statement still struck a chord with me. A really fucking depressing chord.
Reaching down, I grab the champagne bottle by the neck and take several sips. The joy I felt three hours ago when Alice and Jasper exchanged vows is fading with the sunlight, quickly being replaced by self-pity. Both of my best friends are married now. And I’m alone. No one to bring along when I meet friends for drinks. No one to kiss. No one to huddle under the covers with on chilly nights.
Unless you count the cat.
Sighing, I set the bottle on the stair beside me and bend forward, resting my flushed forehead against the cool satin of my dress. Although Atlanta-born Jasper hardly has an accent, Alice decided on a Southern-themed wedding, trapping me in a pale yellow, Scarlett O’Hara gown all day. A stark contrast to the short, black bridesmaid dress I wore at Rosalie’s wedding last month.
“Miss? Are you okay?”
Startled, I sit up quickly and look at the shadowy figure standing two steps below me. He’s tall, wearing a dark suit. Since the setting sun is shining in my eyes, he’s also faceless. I squint, but still can’t see him clearly.
“Yeah, thanks. I needed some air.”
“And champagne?”
Laughing, I pick up the bottle and shrug. “It’s a celebration. Want some?”
“I don’t drink with strangers.”
“Bella.” I hold my right hand toward him. When his warm fingers wrap around my palm, squeezing gently, the current that spreads up my arm is surprising… strong… breathtaking.
“Bella,” he repeats. Shifting his stance slightly, he blocks the sun and I look into the most brilliant green eyes I’ve ever seen. “Hi. I’m Edward.”


words: 289

I run through the underbrush as fast as my bare feet will carry me. Even the sharp rocks scattered about in the dirt, don’t register on my soles the way the pain does in actual soul. The twigs crunch, snap, and break beneath me but I don’t stop until I get closer to the little creek down below.
This is our place, where the forrest—in all of its emerald and azure and magenta grandeur—breaks into a field of wildflowers, dancing and reaching up toward the bright sunshine.
I waited under that makeshift chuppah as attendees and even the preacher scrambled around trying to find you. But the more time that passed, the more apparent it became that you weren’t going to show. So, I ran.
The sob rips from my chest as my legs finally give way, and I sit with my face in my hands as tears stream through my fingers, down my arms, and drip onto my white satin dress. Why aren’t you here? We’ve planned this for months, yet I am left in trembling humiliation in front of all our guests.
A rustling in the shrubs beside me barley registers against the ache inside. But when your glorious face appears, and I can see that you’ve been seeking me out just as frantically as we had been looking for you, my tears dry up.
Your eyes take in my dress for the first time.
“Wow.” Though I’m a disheveled mess, the words out of your mouth are filled with lust and love, swirling magically into the crisp mountain air. Then you see the mascara running down my face and pull me to my feet and into your strong arms. “So sorry I’m late, love.”


Billi Cullen
Word Count: 299

The cold hard cement of the stairs was seeping into my skin. I could feel the pebbles grinding into my ass cheeks like tiny marbles.
I was supposed to be marrying the love of my life. How does a simple girl like me, end up marrying someone like him?
Exquisiteness in male form, bronze hair, green eyes and the longest fingers I’ve ever seen. Oh what those fingers do!
Too perfect. I need to rethink our impending nuptials before it’s too late to back out.
Shit, I’m a fucking idiot!
I love him, he loves me!
Standing up I brush my bum off, turning around quickly to run back to the sanctuary so he can’t change his mind!
I’m startled to see him standing there. His hand is outstretched to me, the smile on his face assuring me that we truly are meant to be.
“I figured you’d be back here,” he said sweetly, his green eyes blazing into mine, his smile wide and happy.
“I needed a moment, a time to reflect, if you will,” I replied, my voice soft, grabbing his hand, getting close in his embrace.
“Well I certainly hope you haven’t changed your mind and decided to marry that dog, Jake, instead?” he questioned, his brow raised, smirking while looking down into my eyes.
I smacked his chest, laughing lightly, saying, “No! Not Jake, only you... only you forever.”
He pulled me closer, leaning down to place the gentlest of kisses on my lips.
As we walked away I looked back over my shoulder to that cement step, I knew that our life might be like that sometimes. Hard, rough, rocky, but knowing it would be worth it in the end because what we had together was sturdy and strong, just like the cement.

Winners and Prompts for 6/7/2013
Hosted by Edmazing

Name: @bebeginja
Word count: 298

I can feel her hands on me.
“Belllaahh,” I say groggily, rolling over. Her bed is soft, warm, and marinated in her scent.
“Edward get up.”
“Mmmm bab-“ THWACK!
What the FUCK?! I sit up, immediately stunned out of my sleepy haze by whatever just pounded the side of my head. Squinting into the sunlit room, I see Bella holding a pillow in front of her naked body. She’s gorgeous and frazzled.
“Edward. Get. Up. They’re. Coming!”
“Wha-? Who?”
“They know you’re here. They know you spent the night. Now get up, get dressed, and get OUT!”
I’m staring at her nipples as she frantically pulls a t-shirt over her head. We hear a car honk and her eyes go wide. I step to the window, still naked, and peek outside.
“Oh shit,” I laugh and flash my junk, waving both of my hands in a little dance. My smile disappears as Emmett gets out of his Jeep and stomps toward the house, cussing and mumbling under his breath. “Oh … shit.” Jasper sits in the passenger seat looking amused.
“See you soon babe!” Bella swats me away after a quick peck to the lips, and I head for the back door. I run around the side of the house, dressing along the way, and surprise Jaz when I jump into the back seat. Emmett hears my door slam and storms back to the car. He gets in and glares at me from the driver’s seat.
“You’re not supposed to see her for another … 4 hours!” he says, pointing to the clock on the dash.
“Sorry man, couldn’t help myself.” I’m not sorry.
“Whatever dude, let’s go. Dad will have MY ass if you’re late to your own wedding.”
I look up. Four hours until she’s mine forever.


Name: CullensTwiMistress
Word count: 300

Her apartment is across the alley from mine.
She smirks and rolls her eyes, waving at me through her window as she sips her coffee.
I nod, acknowledging her and can’t help but chuckle when she sticks out her tongue.
We’ve known each other for a while now. As neighbors.
Oh, and I’m a bit of a voyeur and she’s a tad exhibitionist.
I think we’ve exchanged fewer words than we have orgasms, but we can’t stop.
Leaning my head against the glass, smiling, I watch as she puts down her coffee mug and removes her T-shirt.
The subtle flush of her cheeks as she throws the shirt on the floor is enough to make me hard without even getting a full view of her tits.
Even after seeing her completely naked and exposed more times than I can count, there’s a certain vulnerability in the way she glances back at me. That’s what gets me. Every time. Since the very first time.
I let my pants and boxers fall to the floor and watch as she bites her lip; something else that serves to entice as I stroke myself.
Once she’s completely naked and exposed to me, she sits on her kitchen table and spreads her legs. She’s glistening and ready; fingers deep and wet.
I stroke myself, imagining the slick feel and sweet smell of her sex as I pound into her.
My eyes don’t leave her body as we both find the release we sought.
She sits up, picking up her mug, and crosses her still bare legs as she resumes drinking her coffee.
Her eyes meet mine, happy and sated as I stand there naked and blissful, staring at the girl across the alley.
She smirks.
I grin.
I’ll knock on her door tomorrow.


Word count: 300

Shaking off the fog of sleep, I sit up and try to determine what woke me.
When I reach my window, one hand covering my junk, a smile stretches across my face at the sight down below.
I wave you up, and you begin climbing the latticework on the side of the house, landing deftly onto the overhang that extends over the wrap-around porch and under my window.
You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you the first time I saw you dance in a performance at school. I haven’t said the words yet, but they’re always there. Right on the tip of my tongue.
After realizing I’m still naked, having gotten lost in watching you move, I scramble toward my dresser to pull on some boxer-briefs.
Before I can get them all the way up though, you're smoothly crawling through my window.
Your gasp makes me chuckle. We haven’t quite gone far enough yet for you to have seen my bare ass.
Not that I haven’t wanted to.
"S-sorry," you stutter. "I just wanted to bring you your lucky hat for the big game tomorrow. You left it in my car."
Your face is flushed in embarrassment. You couldn't be cuter if you tried.
"You're coming tomorrow, right?"
"I haven't been able to find anyone to cover my shift. I-"
Interrupting you with a kiss, I pull you in close, and you release a sexy moan into my mouth as my hands grip your hips and squeeze. I know I’m not playing fair, but I NEED you at that game. YOU'RE my lucky charm now. Not some dirty, old hat.
You look dazed; your fingertips lightly touch your plump bottom lip.
"I'll call in sick."


Name: randomfish
Word Count: 296

I woke up alone in my bed and I heard soft noises coming from outside. I rolled off and lazily walked over to the window, not bothering to throw on clothes and smiling once my eyes saw two figures. I watched the two of them as they scrambled around the backyard, hanging up the last of the streamers wherever they could reach. I chuckled softly as I remembered at how adamant my lovely wife, Bella, was on decorating the area and just how excited she was when I eventually agreed. Somewhere in the middle of their talk, Bella had finally caught on to my presence and smirked, knowing that I was naked behind the window. Her tongue quickly swiped across her bottom lip and I flashed her favorite smirk, remembering what had happened only hours before.
Bella certainly had surprised me when I came home late from work and found her on our bed in that sexy lingerie she knew drove me crazy. It didn’t take long for me to completely undress and attack her, kissing her lips hungrily and removing her underwear painfully slow, smiling as she squirmed with impatience. After excessive teasing, only the sounds of our gasps and moans filled the air, and then the cries of my wife as she found her release…
My focus went back to the two as I saw Bella talking to the other figure and then pointing at me, most likely letting her know of my presence as well. I covered myself with my hands on reflex, even though my lower half was probably hidden behind the window. The petite figure turned around, looked up, and waved furiously to me with a huge grin on her face, her eyes sparkling with happiness. My eyes. “Happy Birthday, Daddy!”


word count: 300

She pulls the popcorn out of the microwave and smirks over her shoulder. “I’m not wearing panties.”
“Shut up.”
“Go ahead and check,” she says, leveling her devastating gaze at me. Her hair floats like a cloud, the sunset behind glowing red, framing her beautiful face in the square kitchen window.
Fuck, I love her.
“Maybe I will,” I shoot back.
“Kids!” she yells, not moving her eyes, daring me. “Popcorn’s ready!” She bends down, kisses two little noses. “Go on and start the movie, okay? Auntie Bella needs to talk to Mr. Edward for a minute.”
“Hurry… come here…”
“Fuck, baby…” I gasp as she pulls up slow, slams down fast.
“That’s it... ride me, beautiful.”
“We don’t have long…” Bella likes to fuck hard until we’re both sopping wet, then she pulls away so she can lick herself off my dick. “Damn, I’ll never get tired of seeing that.”
She looks up, half lidded, lazy. Her tongue swirls and I’m dizzy. “Let me taste you,” I whisper, pulling her mouth to mine. “And get back on my dick so I can make you come.”
“So close…” she whines, throwing her head back. Her thighs tremble. “We need to hurry.”
I rub her clit, suck her nipple into my mouth, salty, sweet, I bite and she clenches, sobs, her eyes squeeze shut.
“Ohohoh, Edward, oh fuck…” Heat punches low in my belly as she pinches her own nipples, that vision sending me over the fucking edge.
“Auntie!!!” A little voice shrieks. “I’m telling!”
I can’t believe how fast she scrambles off me, throws on my t-shirt.
“You little sneak!”
“I’m telling Mommy you put your mouth on Mr. Edward’s peepee!”
I watch from the window, laughing.
He makes it all the way to the front yard before she catches him.

Winners and Prompts for 5/31/2013
Hosted by Nicffwhisperer


 pename: evilnat
link: http://www.fanfiction.net/~evilnat
word count: 245

The sheets are soaked from our lovemaking. Our bodies are slippery. Sweaty. WetYou kiss me deeply, slowly, endlessly. Passionately.Your
dog tags drag slowly down my chest, down the valley between my aching
breasts, as you lean back and watch as you take me, deep and slow.
Hard.Muscles flexing. Slick. Your skin is shining in the light coming in from the window.Your
hands roam and I shudder under your touch. The backs of my thighs.
Over my hips. Across my stomach. Kneading my breasts. Teasing my
nipples.I'm loud, and you love it; knowing that it's never been like this with anyone else. Ever.I think I might lose my mind. And then I do.Toe curling euphoria. You follow seconds later and collapse on top of me. Your weight is delicious.Rolling
us to our sides you curl your arms around me, pressing your face into
the crook of my neck. Our bodies so close they’re almost fused
together.I pull back to look you in the eye, if I speak now I
know I will cry, but I want to memorise their colour, their character,
their depth.We stare at each other in silence for minutes. Hours. The words we both want to say, not quite ready to be spoken.Your
voice is strong when you finally speak, as you reach up and caress my
cheek, “I promise you, Bella, when this war is over I’m coming home to


Word count: 299

It’s hot in here. Cramped. I’ve been waiting patiently, but I’m
anxious to see her. To see what she does. My body buzzes in
anticipation.I hear them now. The door flies open and I see his
hands cupping her ass, her legs wrapped around his waist. She’s wearing
red. Blood red. Fucking brilliant, sweetheart.She’s wild. Her hands are roaming. Up through his hair, down across his back, and up again while he attacks her neck. Yeah, I know what she tastes like, buddy. My mouth salivates at the memory. My cock hardens instantly.He
throws her on the bed, and the action sends a rush of scented air my
way. Damn she wants him, I can smell her arousal. I’m torn between
pride in watching her work, and envy for wanting my turn. Just a little longer. She deserves this. Look at my baby go.I reach down and begin to stroke myself. She’s magnificent when she’s like this. She grasps at the sheets above her head as he kisses up the inside of her leg. Her eyes roll back as she licks her lips.Fuck that. Time’s up.I
step out into the open, still pumping my now throbbing cock. She turns
him, pushes him down so he’s beneath her on the bed. He grunts in
approval, completely oblivious to my presence. She holds his
wrists above his head, looks up at me from under her lashes, then bares
her teeth and goes for his jugular. I hear the ripping of his flesh and
I pump faster. I make my way to stand beside her as she whimpers in
satisfaction, emptying him of life.She finishes her meal. A blood red smile to match her dress.I smile back. Because I know what comes after feeding.


 Name: QuinnLark
FFN: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/4383791/
Word Count: 285

Paris, Sept 1944 Though the sheets are arranged around us, the
concrete floor is still hard and unforgiving beneath me. Bdut my mind
doesn’t care. All I can think of is the way his hand is holding my arms
in place above me, lifting my breasts up against his chest, as he pushes
in and out of me. My silk slip slides against the silk of the
sheets with each thrust of his body into my own. His dog tags brush
against me, leaving goose bumps in their wake where cool metal meets
heated flesh. “Je t’aime,” I whisper in his ear as he releases
my hands. I wrap my arms around his neck and allow him to lift me over
himself as he sits back on his knees. We remain connected the entire
time. The angle is as deep as it wonderful. If I lean back just a bit, I
can feel his hard length brushing against my inner walls, hitting that
perfect spot within me. “Tu es à moi...pour toujours,” he tells
me with his thick American accent as I begin to climax around his cock.
His voice just does things to me. In the past two months that we have
been lovers, he has brought me to the highest heights. Tugging
on the chain of his dog tags, I pull him closer to me. I squeeze around
him with my lower body until a strangled moan escapes from the back of
his throat. I can feel his hot seed spilling inside of me as my name
falls from his lips. “My Bella.” “Oui,” I say. Then, I speak to him in a mixture of our native tongues. “Et, you are mine.”


Name: MinaBR
Profile: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/2471205/
Word count: 299

The power of the passion simmering between us steals my breath away. At
the feeling of your rough hands caressing my skin, all my reservations
fade. Indulging in the carnal delight of being possessed by you is a
temptation I cannot resist. Breaking my promise to love and honor the
loving husband whose touch I no longer crave, I wantonly lie beneath
you.Your brand of loving isn’t of the gentle kind. Between us there
isn’t an ounce of affection, just the unbearable lust of primal
attraction. The boundaries to which my husband so sweetly adheres, are
nonexistent when I’m with you. Pushing away my inhibitions, you take
your pleasure as you see fit, chuckling at my feeble protests.Masculinity
pours out of you and I’m helpless to prevent the instinctive reaction
it elicits in me. I’m yours to command, willing to fulfill your every
whim. At your hands, I’m a writhing ball of need, forever begging for
the release only you can provide. In your arms, I lose the sense of self
that makes me an individual. I become you, yours—whatever you need,
whatever you demand of me.There is no peace, no contentment to be
had unless you’re inside my body, reaching the hidden depths of my
anatomy. The fit is tight, your pace unrelenting, you proceed without
any consideration as to my comfort or my needs. You are selfish in our
joining, but that only enhances my enjoyment, for I don’t want to be
anyone’s porcelain doll.The aftermath is always the same: you turn
and leave while I’m consumed with guilt and shame. The unspeakable truth
is that I bask in the knowledge that, according to my own standards,
I’m nothing more than your whore.It makes me a hypocrite.It leaves me satisfied.


Name: CullensTwiMistress
FFN link: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/2593677/
Word count: 300

“Bella, you mean everything to me.“ His voice was soft as he brushed a piece of hair away from my face.“I know. I'll never forget you.”His eyes were honest, yet pained. “You’re sure about this?”“Yes. Always. I love you, Edward. I’ve never been so sure of anything.”“I love you too.”The room was stunning. We were surrounded by white; softness draped everywhere around us. He had made this perfect for me; for this.As he pushed inside for the first time, I felt complete and finally fully connected to the only man I ever loved.Everything around us disappeared, leaving us nestled in our own little bubble of bliss.Nothing would ever be the same.Because I was forever transformed. All because of him. He showed me with his body, what mere words could never express.And then left at dawn while I was still asleep. I woke up surrounded by fluffy white nothingness. His warmth gone, discarded in the early summer breeze.I would keep him in my heart until I could see him again.We
had met only two months prior, but knowing him - being with him in that
short amount of time - was worth lifetime of waiting for him to come
back to me.Summer holiday romances are fickle. We knew this going in.Life went on around me.I would close my eyes and for a moment, he was there, lips brushing against skin and whispered words making me blush.The end of summer turned into fall, and then winter. The snow covered everything only to melt away into spring.And then, he was back.“You’re here.”“I said I would be.”His face hadn’t changed much. Older, maybe. Still beautiful. “I missed you.”“I’m staying this time. For good.”


primarycolorswords: 300

It was quiet, nothing but the gulls, the crash of waves. All the workers were gone.“I gave them the afternoon off,” Edward explained, opening the car door.Bella blinked. “Why?” Her phone lit with a text and she was instantly diverted.“Put that away and come inside,” he called.What was to become their master bedroom smelled of sawdust and sunshine, brine from the sea breeze and… wine, oysters… roses?She was speechless, even as his arms came around her from behind.“What…”“Happy anniversary baby,” he murmured, kissing her neck sweetly.Despite the incomplete state of the house, Edward had managed to transform the
upstairs into a wonderland of white… soft billowing sheets instead of plastic tarps, an ivory down comforter rippled soft across the floor. A ladder holding a leather tool belt stood guard over the unfinished
stairs.“I thought I’d misplaced that,” Bella frowned down at the bedspread. Her phone buzzed and she moved to answer it.Edward sighed. “Give it to me,” he said abruptly, holding out his hand.“Wait a minute,” she started, “I—““Now.”“But—“His chin lifted slightly. “What was that…?”Something inside her went limp, the stern look in his eyes sending quivers through to her toes. “Oh,” she whispered. “Yes, Sir.”He powered the phone down, threw it across the room. “Get undressed, Isabella. I’ve been more than patient.” The corners of his eyes
crinkled, but his gaze held heat, not laughter. Her hands trembled as she pulled off her shirt, letting the warmth of his eyes soak into her body.“Which way would you like me, Sir?” she breathed, stepping out of her panties.“Down. Lie down.” A smile curved his mouth as he stripped. “Arms up and don’t move them.”She swallowed, whispering, “It would be my pleasure, Sir.”

Winners and Prompts for 5/24/2013
Hosted by evilnat


NAME itravelalone

I see you well enough. Your hair clashes horribly with the vibrant red of the star spangled banner wrapped around your shoulders as you hang out of the window as the carriage comes to a stop, but to me, you’ve never looked more handsome. Your smile is so, so brilliant, and it lights up my whole world, and I’m so in love with you I almost can’t breathe. You’re joking around with your mates, laughing and cursing as they pull you into the train by your feet and my heart flickers uncontrollably with impatience.

And as you step out of the car, your eyes meet mine and I just hope that deep, deep inside you, you love me as much as I love you.

Your eyes are roaming, and you catch my eye and smile. I smile back.

I love you.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

You’re full on sprinting now, towards the crowd that have been waiting for all of you for hours. I have been waiting for you for hours, and you’re finally home. You look so, so handsome in your green uniform, the metal on your chest bouncing with each step.
You stop. And kneel. Scoop up your child and throw him up in the air as the kid giggles and shrieks with joy.

God, you’re so glorious.

And then you’re here.

You rip my heart straight out of my chest and stomp on it a thousand times as I watch you bend down and kiss your wife.


NAME @primarycolors1


A bump and his stomach rolls. The plane races over uneven ground. He has a ghost of a headache; his armpits are sour, his tongue coated with slime. He presses his nose against the window and sees nothing but darkness. No runway lights. No moon.

“Hey,” the lieutenant says.

Edward glances at the guy next to him, big and friendly, dimples, laugh lines.

“We’ll be at the base soon, alright? Get you cleaned up, get you home. They’re calling your family right now, man. You’ve been all over the news.” He pats Edward on the shoulder, wincing at the glazed look in his eyes. “You gotta girl at home?”

Edward squeezes the metal seat beneath his leg, rubs a mosquito bite on his arm.

Minutes or hours pass.

“Wife,” he whispers, the profound darkness swallowing his words.

“Yeah?” The lieutenant smiles. “Bet she’s pretty. You’ll have some story to tell, maybe you’ll win the Pulitzer or somethin’.” He shrugs. “Whatever it is journalists win.”

Edward thought about the month he’d been gone on his first assignment, years ago as a graduate student. How she'd waited hours at the Cambridge station for his return. Not caring who saw her run full tilt like a maniac and leap into his arms, cheeks wet with happiness.
"You've been gone too long," she'd whispered.

“How long?” he asks suddenly.

“'Bout 23 months,” the lieutenant answers. “You were never assumed dead though… just missing.”

There is no air.

Edward rakes his fingers through his hair, digs at his scalp, heart thrashing madly in his ribs. He wants to stand; he wants to walk. To run.

God. Two years.

“Whoa, hold on.” The lieutenant grabs his shoulders. “It’ll be fine, I promise. What’s her name?”

“Bella.” A prayer, as he slumps against the curve of the plane. "Bella."


NAME my2galspal


I have been waiting at this train station every Thursday afternoon for the past month. It’s the day he is supposed to come for me. All the other times I returned to a cheap motel, disappointed and scared, and rented a room for another week. Today is different though. My single bag is packed, just like before, but now I hold a ticket in my hand. I have to move on.

I grab a lock of my newly dyed hair and nervously twirl it around my finger. Being a brunette isn’t the end of the world but it still shocks me whenever I catch a glimpse of my reflection. Used to be the bruises that made me do a double take. Will he mind the change? Will he even recognize me?

Why am I worried about my hair when I may never see him again?
We planned our escape so carefully. We only separated to make sure my ex couldn’t trace us. We were only supposed to stay apart long enough to keep suspicion off the man who saved my life. We were supposed to meet up in this nothing town before moving on together. Something must have happened.

I am terrified to move on without him. What good is being away from the man who beat me if I can’t be with the man who treasures me? If it weren’t for this innate will to live I’d go back to find him.


I turn at the sound of my new name, the one only he knows. I want to answer him, but I can’t remember his new name. Instead I run to him and throw myself into his arms. At his touch it comes back to me.

“Emmett,” I breathe in relief.


NAME @boomboom_jones


I want to tell him to stay and that I’ve been in love with him from the moment he stole my pen in Art History.

He’s tired and excited. His eyes are ringed dark but there’s this little glimmer there, and that’s something I can’t take away from him.

We stayed up all last night packing, and the words were right there on the tip of my tongue but… I’m a coward.

He’s supposed to be gone for six months. This internship he’s dreamed about forever.

Everything’s going to change.

“Why so serious?” he asks. He nudges my shoulder with his as we sit
on the bench, waiting for the train to begin boarding.

“You don’t want to know,” I say, which is already more than I should be saying.

“You’re my best friend. Of course, I want to know.” He rests his elbows on his thighs. “Besides, this is probably the perfect time since you’re about to be rid of me for a while. You know how bad my memory is, so, really, you could tell me you’re growing an eleventh finger and I’d definitely forget by tonight.”

“I don’t think you’d forget something like that. That’s gross, by the way.”

“I was going for extreme,” he says, then pauses when I don’t smile. “Talk to me, B.”

“It’s nothing. I’m happy for you is all.”

Edward frowns. “Oh.” Clasping his hands together, he stares off in the opposite direction. The silence between us lasts for a decade. “Did you ever wonder why people wait until the last minute to do something they should’ve done from the start?”

“No.” Yes.

He reaches into his bag. “I bought two tickets,” he says. “Just in case.”

“Just in case what?”
“Just in case you realized we’re supposed to be together.”


NAME Bravery0898



8:06 AM.

Exactly nine minutes until I would be leaving. Permanently.

Would she be joining me? Would she leave everything behind for a summer fling? I shook my head.

We were much more. I prayed she knew that.



"Excuse me, sir, but you forgot your wallet!" I turned around and saw her, breathless, holding my black wallet in her hand. Her dark hair was falling from the messy bun and her cheeks were flushed.

I had purposely left it, hoping that today would be the day I could talk to her.

"Thank you so much," I feigned surprise. She smiled shyly, shook her head, and turned to leave. I put my hand on her arm. "Wait. May I take you out to dinner sometime? Tonight, perhaps?"

She blushed and told me she got off work at seven.

I was victorious.


"How long?" Her head rested on my chest as I drew patterns on her naked back.

"Until August 5th."

"Will you be back?"

"I don't think so."


I brought her lips to mine.


"Come with me," I begged.

She knew what I was asking.

"I...don't know if I can."

"Please," I kissed her. "Please. I love you."

She shook her head as tears formed in her eyes. "You don't."

"Oh, I do." And I showed her.


8:12 A.M.

I was numb. I adjusted the strap to my bag and turned to the train.

She must not have loved me. She never said it.

"Edward!" I whipped around and saw her. Beautiful as ever, holding two giant bags. She shrugged.

"I had to pack." Then she ran and jumped in my arms. "I love you. I could never let you go." She murmured against my lips.


Winners and Prompts for 5/17/2013


Twitter name: @incog_ninjaFFn 

It’s that frustrating moment right before you’re wet enough to take him, but you still want him right fucking now, and you just can’t say it out loud. All you can do is lie there helpless, thighs spread wide and thrashing, back arched dangerously, head thrown back and chest heaving. 

But he knows what you need – what you both need. He swipes his fingers over his tongue then slips them down between your thighs, slowly slides them around your clit. He gently pushes them inside your body and twists and pumps them. His thumb presses at the top and just to the side with a sensual grip over that spot that’s throbbing inside and outside and everywhere for you.

You rotate your hips and buck lightly into his hand because you don’t want to fuck it up. What he’s doing is magic; it’s exactly what you needed and you didn’t even know it. You pray he never takes his hand away and that his maneuver isn’t simple chance – that he knows what he’s doing and that he’ll keep on doing it. 

You’re suddenly gushing, and the silence in the stiflingly hot and quiet attic is broken by your cries for more more fuck yes more now please. 

Then his hands are spreading you wider and his cock is pushing inside, where you’re so fucking hot and wet and wanting. Just minutes before, you were frustratingly unprepared, but this man… he knows how to make you ready.

He knows how to make you sing and cry and scream. Just a few minutes more of him pushing and pulling, in and out, and you’re muttering nonsense, clawing at his chest and back and shoulders.

Then you find out that he also knows how to make you come apart.



He growls. His eyes are dark and a little twisted. He is big and powerful, and I cannot deny that those fangs scare me a little. My mother always told me to stay away from demons—so, why am I fixing to fuck one?

He grabs my hips, locks my ankles around his waist, and towers over me. “You smell amazing.” His voice is rough and gravely, like it’s coming from deep inside his chest.

My heartbeat thunders in response, and the rational part of my mind tells me to be afraid. I can’t bring myself to feel the emotion, however. I know him perhaps better than he knows himself.

I bring my palm up to caress his cheek. The action is surprisingly sweet amidst the almost violent passion swirling around us. “You won’t hurt me,” I order him. His nostrils flare at the idea of being ordered around by a human. I don’t give him a chance to dwell on it. “You’ve saved me too many times to kill me now.”

He leers and his black, bottomless eyes make it clear that he wants me in more ways than one. “Are you sure about that, sweetheart?” He growls, and shivers of fear and excitement shoot down my spine.In answer I grind my pussy against the hard cock still inside his boxers. “You’re mine,” I declare, making it clear what I think about his teasing.

He licks three fingers coating them with venom before pushing them inside me with one hard grunt. “Mate.”


Betty Lovegood (@LovegoodBetty)

The room was dark. I could only feel him over me as my eyes adjusted to the city lights entering from the open window. The warm summer breeze enhanced the whiskey-sweat-and-sex-scent surrounding us, and it drove me crazy. It seemed to drive him crazy, too. I felt hot with need for him. I hadn't even given him my name, but he already knew how and where to touch and kiss me to make me whimper breathlessly. 

I'd dreamed of this many times from the moment I laid eyes on him weeks ago. But this wasn't a dream; there was no haze, and definitely no stopping. He was all mine and I was his... for however long he'd let me stay in his bed.

I thought I couldn't become any more desperate for him, having him shirtless, clad in only his boxers and looking down at me with bedroom eyes, ready to dive in. But I did, when he licked his fingers before repeatedly massaging right where I ached the most. He had a talent I'd never experienced. I was ready to climax after a few seconds. He caught one of my nipples in his mouth when I arched my back, grinding into his fingers, and he sucked just perfectly for me to fall over the edge. I could very clearly feel the electricity between us.

He didn't withdraw his hand as he kissed down my stomach and promised, “I've only just begun, gorgeous...”



Fuck, you're dripping, baby." His voice was a harsh rasp just above me. "See? I told you that you wanted it. I told you I could make you want it."

"Fuck you," I spat, just as he pushed two thick fingers inside me, spreading them, then curling them up against the spot that always made me whimper.Every single time.

"I am fucking you," he said, "First with my fingers and then...then, you know what I'm gonna do?"

I wanted to give him silence, but the whimper that escaped me told him clearly that I couldn't. It didn't matter that we'd been fighting. It didn't matter who was right or wrong. They were only words. They were nothing compared to the way he made me feel.

He slid his fingers out, pulling them up to his mouth and licking. And everything about him was filthy. His words, his tongue.

But me even more.

Me, most of all.

Because I wanted to watch, wanted to see him tasting me, sucking me off of his skin. But it didn't last.

"I'm gonna fuck you with my cock," he said, his fingers slipping easily inside me again. "I'm not even gonna lick your sweet pussy because you're so fucking ready for me. It's all over your thighs, sweet girl. But I'm not gonna do it until you tell me."


"Say it."

"Oh, god. Just...please."

"Say the fucking words."

"You're right, goddamn it," I cried, and he immediately covered me with the weight of his body. "You're always fucking right."



Edward kept Bella’s thighs from tightening around his head, but he refused to show her any mercy. He wanted her to remember what it was like to have his mouth on her, his fingers in her. 

As her body began to calm, Edward raised his head and let his eyes roam her body. Over her stomach, between her breasts, up to her face… It was his favorite map in the world. It was a map of Bella. 

“Oh, my God…” she panted.

It was music to Edward’s ears. And heart. 

He couldn't resist taking another lick of her pussy, to have another taste of what he did to her, which caused her body to jolt. 

“Edw- Jesus Christ. Wait.”

He climbed up and hovered over her body.

“What? I just wanted seconds. And now I want thirds,” he smirked as he licked his hand and ran it between her legs, teasingly applying pressure with his middle finger. 

He showed no shame as he brought his hand to his mouth and licked, relishing in the taste there and humming his approval.

Bella’s chest rose and fell, as Edward did everything pure and sinful to her body.

But before she could savor that feeling, Edward’s cock pushed into her, giving her even more to drown in. It was heaven and explosive, and she couldn't get enough.

Edward placed his hands on either side of her head.

“Open your eyes, baby,” he whispered, and when she did, she couldn't help but stare into his. 

He pulled out and in, rocked and swiveled his hips, driving her crazy.

“I’ll never get my fill of you…”


AND even though this one is NOT at all a representation of the gif I have to include it because it's damn hot 


She’d stopped chewing, mouth hanging open, salt from the popcorn burning her tongue.

“Are we…umm.” She was finding it hard to finish a sentence, or even a complete thought, her mind so consumed with the frantic couple on the movie screen. “Is this the right…”

Edward frowned. “I’d thought so,” he whispered, shifting in his seat. “But I… wow.”

Running late, they’d ducked into theater 10, giggling, spilling snacks on the multicolored carpet, assuming the gritty black and white scene was a trailer for some foreign film. French, maybe. Only they couldn’t be sure. There hadn’t been any words.

The man had the woman pressed up against a window now, pounding into her from behind. Breath frosted across the glass as she panted, fingers splayed, moans mingling with the wet sounds of sex.

Bella bit her lip hard. Every muscle in her body was strung tight, her heart racing.

On the screen, another man was watching the couple from the doorway, slowly unbuckling his belt.

“Fuck,” Edward said in a strangled voice. He pressed Bella's hand to the front of his jeans, groaning when she rubbed lightly. “Come here.”


“Theater’s empty,” he said hoarsely, throwing the armrest out of the way, dragging her onto his lap. He draped her legs on the outside of his and pulled her back against his chest, one hand pushing inside her panties, the other already under her bra, pinching, pulling. “Watch,” he murmured into her ear, breath hot against her cheek.

The couple had finally made it to the bed, unsurprised when the second man crawled up beside them. Both men were on their knees, one fucking her pussy, the other fucking her mouth.

Edward bit her neck when she came all over his fingers. 

“You liked that, didn’t you? Naughty girl.”

Winners and Prompts for 5/10/2013


 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.”


Sparrow Notes
 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.


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.”


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. 


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.”

Musical_Voice on TwitterMusicalVoice on 
Word count: 274

“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.

Winners and Prompt for 5/3/2013


 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.


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