Dream Training Novels & Stories

I tried fighting the urge to fall asleep, as I tried to run, bumping into the walls, my focus getting disrupted by the dr*g they had successfully used on me. “You did not think... Did you? Well, that can’t be helped... Dreams.” Tristan’s voice rang in my ears, but I could barely make out what he was trying to say. I could not even register what he was saying, and soon enough... My vision... faded. Zayn

Kris laid in bed, eyes wide, staring at the ceiling. She never experienced that type of dream before. It felt so real. Reaching mindlessly to the nightstand, she grabbed her vape, taking a long drag and holding it in. She exhaled, letting her shoulders drop and her eyes close. She thought about the events as they played out in her dream. She was giving a tattoo. It was a beautiful design she made specifically for Elena. They kept locking eyes, making it too hard for her to concentrate.

Their judgmental gazes quickly swept across each other. Meanwhile, Tracy nearly went crazy with jealousy as she glared at Melanie. Laura was also very angry and disappointed in Raymond. "You're out of your mind, Raymond! Tracy is pregnant with your child, yet you're still defending that bitch who hurt her! "If anything happened to my precious grandchild, I swear that I will—" Raymond then shouted, "Tracy Lambert is not pregnant!"

Y one final time whether we could meet. He refused again, saying he was busy with work and maybe another time. I steeled myself and sent the message I had prepared. "Darling, if we can't meet and I can't even hug or kiss you, we should just break up." I blocked him without a second thought. After the breakup, no one lulled me to sleep at night. My sleep deteriorated sharply, and the nightmares came one after another. In my dreams, a secretary led me to his office. I pushed open the heavy door alone and found nothing but darkness.

Naomi and Wayne stood at the center, each holding a child, looking every bit the picture of a perfect family of four. I stood silently in the crowd, watching that scene. Taking a bite of matcha cake, the sweetness on my tongue turned bitter. Without sparing them another glance, I walked out of the hotel. Sliding into the car Wayne had once given me with matching license plates, the cold voice of the system filled my head, and dizziness overtook me. "Host, your departure time has arrived. Countdown: three, two, one…" I closed my eyes. From that moment on, Arden Sharpe no longer existed in this world.

"Why wouldn't we be here, little one?" "Because we met!" she cried out, her voice cracking with a sudden, overwhelming confusion. She looked around at the familiar silver trees. "The stories say the dream-link is just a beacon to help fated mates find each other in the real world. Once they touch in the waking world, the dreams are supposed to stop. The magic is supposed to fade because reality takes over. Why are we still in the mist?" Before Kieran could open his mouth to answer, a soft, ethereal voice drifted through the silver air, echoing directly inside the quiet spaces of Rosemary's mind like a gentle, maternal breeze.

I routinely slapped a pain-relief patch onto my wrist before packing my things to head back to the dorms. The conductor approached me. “Naomi, we have a change of plans. Someone is taking your place. “I’m afraid you won’t be joining us for the performance next week.” … My mind went blank. From the age of seven to twenty-one, I went through fourteen years of tough seasons, just to gain this opportunity. I was just one step away from realizing my dream and fulfilling my mother’s dying wish. Yet now… Gritting my teeth, I asked heart-wrenchingly, “Sir, may I know who has been given my role?”

The face of a girl in deep, dreamless sleep. But inside, I’m screaming. Jack’s thrusts get longer. Deeper. More urgent. He’s found a rhythm now, fucking me with purpose, his hands gripping my hips to hold me in place while he uses my unconscious body for his pleasure. “She’s so fucking tight,” he pants. “Even after – even while I’m – Jesus, she’s gripping me. Like she wants it. Like her body knows what’s happening even if she doesn’t.” “Maybe she does know,” Tyler says quietly. “Maybe she’s dreaming about it.”