“Bullets are now ineffective.” Flash Fiction for Siobhan Muir’s #ThursThreads

Tex_playing_video_gamesI jumped through the nearly closed wormhole, snagged the shiny dagger lying on a mutant toadstool, then climbed up the wall of Bloodthorne Castle a breath away from the secret passage leading into the King’s treasure room.

“I’m almost to the princess,” I gloated, taking a moment to glance over at Kevin as his vice-like grip on the controller turned his knuckles white. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip and my concentration faltered…for a moment.

“Fine, I’ll just have to use my infinite ammo blaster when you get there,” he said.

I clicked the red button and selected an item from the drop down menu, ducking into the dark passageway. “Your bullets are now ineffective, Kev. I put on my resistance cloak. Nothing gets through this baby.”

“Christ!” Kev threw the controller across the room and scooted back until he hit the couch. “How the hell am I supposed to beat you, Eric? I never win. Never!” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Are you pouting?” I asked, hitting pause.

Kev squinted at me.

I slid over next to him. “I can only teach you so many tricks to this game. You might have to start getting sneaky.” I grazed my lips over his ear.

He pulled away and gave me a long, hard look that made my heart beat faster.

“Take off your pants. We’ll see if you save the princess with your cock in my mouth.”

“I love you.” I wimpered.


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“You don’t know a damn thing about me.” Flash Fiction for Siobhan Muir’s #ThursThreads

closet“This is crazy, Dad.” Paul ran both hands through his hair, eyes affixed to the floor.

Craig, on the other hand, stared at me like I had grown two heads. “Are you positive?”

I laughed then. I had just come out to my two sons after forty years of denial and their reactions couldn’t be more fitting. Paul never liked anything outside the norm, preferring to stay in his safe little world. And Craig constantly questioned everything, his scientist’s brain always at work.

“It’s that whole mid-life crisis thing,” Paul replied before I could answer, beginning to pace. “He’s struggling to find himself after being alone for so long and with his 55th birthday around the corner….”

I grabbed him by the arm to stop him. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that. I’d like to think you believe me to have a healthier grasp on reality AND my own life than that.”

Paul sighed. “This is not who you are, Dad.”

“You don’t know a damn thing about me, Paul.” I said through clenched teeth. I took a calming breath. “What do you either of you know about my life? You went to live with your mother in the middle of grade-school and never gave me the time of day when I tried to keep in touch. But here it is twenty years later, we’ve reconnected and I’ve finally accepted who I am. I had hoped my sons would understand.”

Craig blinked and smiled. “He’s positive, Paul.”


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“Take it back.” Flash Fiction for Siobhan Muir’s #ThursThreads

I walked in from the garage, smiling at Jim as he came down the stairs. His green eyes hadn’t lit up like they used to since he’d moved in with me last week. So I thought I’d try and lift his spirits with a present.

“What is that?” He asked, furrowing his dark brow at the tissue-wrapped object in my hands.

“It’s a housewarming gift.” I removed the tissue to reveal an antique lamp. “For us.”

I put the lamp on the end table near our leather sofa. It was hand-painted and in excellent condition. It looked divine.

Jim walked over to stand near me as he studied the lamp. “Take it back,” he said finally, covering his mouth as he broke into tears.

“Hey…” I gathered him in my arms, rubbing his shoulders. “If it’s not something you like….”

He mumbled something unintelligible through his sobs and I held him tighter, attempting to calm him down before having a conversation. “Talk to me,” I said after wiping away his tears with my thumb.

“I’m having a much harder time than I thought I would with….this,” he gestured about the room.

“My house?” I swallowed. “Or me?”

“No, lover. No.” He held both of my hands. “It’s what moving in together means…for me. I’m going to need some time to adjust before you start buying US such lovely things.”

I relaxed a bit . “You like the lamp?”

“You know you have exquisite taste.”

I smiled. “No rush then.”


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“Shut up, that’s not true.” Flash Fiction for Siobhan Muir’s #ThursThreads

ThursThreads HM

“Shut up, that’s not true!” Arnie growled, and shoved Brett hard.

Brett stumbled back. “Hey! What the hell?!”

“My brother is NOT gay.”

Brett adjusted his jacket and moved behind the tire swing for protection. ”He has a boyfriend.”

“He does not!” Arnie kicked a lump of sand. “Mason is just his friend.”

“I saw them kissing in the locker room.”

Arnie covered his ears and grimaced. “Stop saying things like that! I swear Dan is NOT gay! He’s straight!” Arnie’s last word came out as a sob.

“Arnie…” Brett sighed, and came out to guide Arnie down to sit on the rusted roundabout. “Why is this bothering you so much? You never had a problem with anyone’s sexual preference before.”

Arnie wiped his eyes and sniffed. “Once this gets around school Dan’ll get picked on and treated like crap for being different, just like me. I get bullied for being small, smart, and bad at sports, but it’s all the same. I’d never wish what I go through every day on him. He’s my brother.”

Brett patted him on the back. “That’s kinda sweet, Arn. Still, you’re an idiot.”

“What?” Arnie narrowed his eyes.

“Aren’t you forgetting that he’s your BIG brother? Hasn’t he always had your back in the face of danger? He hasn’t changed. Don’t doubt for a minute he won’t be there for you when you need him.”

Arnie took a breath and nodded. “Yeah. And maybe it’s my turn to be there for him.”


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“Are you sure you want to do this?” Flash Fiction for Siobhan Muir’s #ThursThreads


Since #ThursThreads is on hiatus this week due to Siobhan participating in Authors After Dark, I will post last week’s flash fiction story. I’m now caught up!! Hopefully, I will be able to continue to post my submissions one or two days after the Thursday of the contest.



“Are you sure you want to do this?” Marcus asked, waiting until I nodded to snap the handcuff around my left wrist. He fastened it to the headboard of the bed and moved over to the other side, his chest hair tickling my cheek. “One of the perks of being a cop.” He grinned down at me with those deep blue eyes.

I chuckled nervously as he finished with the right side, very aware that I was completely at his mercy. He’d already secured my ankles with thick leather straps and now I could barely move.

“You’re so sexy, Aiden,” he purred, stroking my lower lip as he straddled my naked body. I hoped I wasn’t trembling, but his furrowed brow told me otherwise. “Sweetheart,” he breathed, trailing his fingers down my chest. He circled my nipple and I arched into him. “You do know I only want to give you pleasure.”

“I know,” I whispered, touched by the softness in his voice. “It’s just new, and a little overwhelming. But I trust you.”

Marcus smiled and brushed his knuckles over my other nipple. My breath hitched at the sensation, definitely heightened by being this helpless, this vulnerable.

“Promise me you’ll say our safeword if ever you feel uncomfortable. And we’ll stop.”

“I promise, Officer,” I replied, anticipation taking a hold of my nerves. I winked.

A wicked smile spread over his handsome face and I knew I was in for one wild night.


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