Love and Deepspace Dreams

He’s at the booth, headphones slung around his neck, shirt clinging like it was made to keep all eyes on him and only him. He doesn’t need the spotlight, people part for him before realizing why. I don’t try to speak to him. Not yet. I linger at the edge of the crowd, let the bass thrum against my ribs, let the ice melt in my glass. Someone notices me. But not him. Someone else. I feel it before I see it, an unsettling presence, weight behind me, breath where it doesn’t belong. A voice leans too close, too familiar, without ever asking. I don’t answer. I shift slightly. That should be enough. It isn’t.  A second passes. Maybe two. I stay in high alert. Then the air changes. A different hand touches my arm. Light. Intentional. “Come with me,” Zayne says. I never looked at the man behind me, and now I don’t have to. Zayne’s voice isn’t loud. It doesn’t need to be, it just leads. And I follow him. He doesn’t make a show of it... no stare, no claim. Just a quiet path through ...

Lei froze mid-scroll, her thumb hovering above the screen. Zayne’s name. A new message notification. “The science of pleasure doesn’t sound like serious work.” She scowled and turned the screen toward Lassy. “Look at his comment on my timeline!” Lei grumbled. She could picture his stoic smirk, face illuminated by his phone light, silently judging their choice of reading material.  Lassy didn’t need to answer. Right on cue, her own phone buzzed. “No sugar. Keeping an eye on my patients’ activities is part of my job.” She could practically hear that smug tone. She groaned, equally irked by his surveillance. “He scolds me for giving in to temptation,” Lassy sighed, sipping her tea. “He nags about me reading romance” Lei muttered, flipping her phone face-down. Their eyes met, and the idea bloomed. Late night treats? Let’s invite him to study temptation. * He arrived at Lassy’s place after dark and stepped inside with practiced calm. He’d met mischief in them before. Tonight...

You were summoned by Sylus to his compound in the N109 zone. He didn’t give context to why but when does he ever? You walk into the main entry room, the fireplace lit and two figures standing and one sitting on the couch. As you approach you see Sylus sitting on the couch and two dark haired men behind him. You realize it’s Caleb and Zayne, both standing above Sylus. Your expression shows shock and confusion. Sylus reads your expression immediately and smirks, speaking in his signature low demeanor, “Hey kitten, a certain birdy told me that you had been seeing these two other men as well as me~” Your start panicking, realizing where this was going and shake your head, “No it’s not like that! We are-“ Sylus chuckles, a small devilish grin still stuck on his face, “No need to explain sweetie.” He looks up at the two men and then back down to you, a glint of lust in his eyes. “I’ve gathered him because it seems you want to experience other men, as well as yours truly. So,” He said, gettin...

"You were glowing that day." His voice is low, the warmth of it curling around the memory like the spring breeze that had tangled your hair as petals drifted past. Zayne leans against the bed, his gaze locked on you... unreadable yet impossibly soft. "The moment you saw the trees, your eyes lit up like I’d just taken you to another world." A quiet chuckle rumbles from him, the kind that lingers between amusement and something deeper. "And for a second, I almost believed you were part of it... Like if I let go, the wind might carry you away with the blossoms." His fingers brush against your wrist, barely there. A touch lighter than the petals that had fallen onto your shoulder as he’d stood behind you... watching... memorizing. "I tried to be subtle about keeping you close... But you caught me, didn’t you?" His lips twitch, the memory of you turning... laughing... teasing... etched into the way his eyes crinkle slightly. "You always do....

  Lassy had barely had time to breathe that week. Between tracking down rogue wanderers, dealing with ambushes in the dead of night, and patching up wounds that should’ve taken her out, she had been running purely on instinct and exhaustion. She hadn’t even thought about the gala. Not until the dress arrived. At the time, she had simply exhaled in relief, grateful that Sylus had thought ahead. Of course, he had. His taste was impeccable, and if he wanted to be seen with her on his arm, he wasn’t about to let her show up in a last-minute scramble of thrown-together fabric. She had slipped into the dress without much thought, never once questioning that he was the one picking her up. So when the knock came, she didn’t hesitate. She opened the door and realized her mistake. Sylus was there, as expected, a picture of confidence in his black suit and open red shirt, eyes gleaming in approval as they moved over her. “Sweetie…” His smirk curved lazily. “Perfect.” But just behind him, ano...

The room is warm, the air thick with candlelight and the faint trace of her perfume. The scent is something delicate, lingering—like jasmine after rain, like something meant to be remembered. He sits on the couch, his suit immaculate, posture relaxed but precise. The low glow of the lamps catches the sharp cut of his jaw, the composed stillness of his expression. His eyes—dark, unreadable—follow her with quiet certainty. Always watching. She stands before him, wrapped in the softest whisper of lingerie, satin ribbons hugging her curves. A bow sits tied around her waist, its message written in careful script: “I am your present.” A slow smile plays at her lips as she tilts her head, letting the anticipation stretch just a little longer. Then, her voice—low and smooth—breaks the hush. “I told you yesterday I had a present for you.” She watches the way his gaze lingers, not just on her skin but on the meaning behind her words. “Did you like it?” His reply is quiet, measured. No hesitation...