Fantasy
Imaginative scenarios, supernatural encounters, dream worlds
51 stories
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I Should’ve Just Sent a LinkedIn Request
He looked at me like I was a failing campaign he was personally assigned to turn around with a massive budget and no oversight.
Don't Break the Seal
His hand is a heavy weight against my throat, not squeezing yet, just a binding clause I haven't figured out how to litigate.
A Thimble of Saffron
The heat of the stove was nothing compared to the way his hand felt against the small of my back, heavy as a sidearm and just as dangerous.
Heavy Light
His hand caught my waist, and the static between us didn't just crackle; it rearranged the molecules of the overpriced chardonnay in my other hand.
A Crushed Eucalyptus Leaf
The residue on the glass wasn't condensation; it was the shimmering, oily remains of a projection he'd left behind for me to find.
A Torn Laminate Pass
His thumb hooked into the waistband of my shorts, dragging the denim down just enough to expose the white line of my hip bone.
Do You Feel the Bass in Your Teeth?
The bass from the main stage didn't just vibrate the air; it rearranged the marrow in my bones until I was hers.
Crazing
Her laughter had the texture of expensive stationery—heavy, slightly abrasive, and hinting at a message I wasn't quite ready to decode.
A Copper Bolt, Thrown
I had spent a decade teaching students that 'show, don't tell' was the ultimate commandment, but as his tongue traced the architectural line of my hip, I realized I had never understood the weight of a physical verb.
Fracture
Elara felt the vibration of his intent before he even spoke, a low-frequency hum that settled deep in her marrow.
Solid Smoke
Her fingers were stained purple with juice from the crushed blackberries, a messy contrast to the clinical precision of her knife work.
![](https://miscd.fra1.digitaloceanspaces.com/medium/"i'm-not-sure-which-part-of-you-is-the-ocean"-679-cover-1778515265468.jpg)
"I'm Not Sure Which Part of You Is the Ocean"
My psoas muscle, usually a tight knot of professional composure, simply dissolved the moment his saltwater-slicked hand found the small of my back.