Rating: M to be safe
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. Summit and Stephenie Meyer do, no money being made off this. This story mine. Characters of Twilight and associated - not mine. Don't sue.
100 words: Angst, inspired by Queens of the Stone Age: "Into the Fade"
You drive down the empty road, trees blindly flashing by as you hurtle towards the upcoming curve. Tires sing on the wet tarmac, occasionally slipping, losing their grip upon the slick surface. Tears fall in rapid streams, blurring your vision and in one angry swipe, you wipe them away. Approaching the corner, you realise with growing horror that you won't make it. Your foot punches down toward the floor, the car swerving wildly and it is then you realise the fight with him wasn't worth it.
As a large tree looms frighteningly in your windshield, you whisper, "It's not fair."
100 words: Fluff, inspired by Savage Garden "Truly, Madly, Deeply"
Balmy breezes, white sands. Golden sunlight kisses your skin, blue ocean swirls over your feet. You squint towards the horizon - your hand offering shade as you gaze searchingly over the calm, inviting waters. Arms grasp you from behind, gripping your waist and you squeal as they swing you high and around. Laughing, you lean into his embrace and accept his tender kiss, his warm mouth pressing softly against yours.
"My wife," he murmurs against your lips. Smiling, you pull back to stare into his eyes. Yes, your husband. For richer or poorer. For better or worse. Together. Now. For always.
100 Words: Sensuality, inspired by Marcy Playground "Comin' Up from Behind"
He sits up to look at you as you glide sinuously from the small gap in the velvet curtains. Your bare leg peeks out, enticingly leading the way. Eyes fasten on your soft inner thigh, irises dark with desire. You sashay, slowly trailing the heavy material behind you, the corner of your lips curling in a kittenish invitation as you float towards his seat.
Your lips part.
His eyes watch your tongue snaking out to glide along your lower lip. You shiver in guilty anticipation, the unfurling of the smoke in the club like your blatant desire; hot, sensual...erotic.