Fever Dream Novels & Stories

Hearing the cheerful question, Sung-ho replied blankly, "I'm good. How are you, Myung-dae?" Choi Dea cleared her throat, breaking the mutual stare with him. His voice was husky and pleasant, it sent another motion of tingle through her body. 'Why am I feeling like this?' Myung-dae followed his gaze to her, then grinned again. He waved his hand to introduce her to him, "This is Miss Rachel Choi, the CEO of Dream Shade...." Before he could say anything more, Sung-ho stood up from his chair, never taking his eyes off her. He wanted to see her from more closer, as close as possible, he thought.

By the seventh year of my relationship with Vanessa McBride, she inherited everything her late sister, Rebecca Holloway, had left behind, including her brother-in-law, Derek Holloway. Every time Vanessa returned from Derek's room, she would hold me close and whisper softly, "Just wait a little longer, Grant. Once I give him a child, we'll finally have our wedding." It was the only condition her family had imposed for her to inherit the McBride legacy. In the six months after returning to the capital, Vanessa went to Derek's room regularly. At first, it was once a month. Then, once every few weeks. Eventually, it became almost every other night. And after six months of being alone every

Then there were the fangs and the biting— Yeah—how high school is it to have dirty dreams about a vampire? To hell with it, because in these dirty dreams, Gaia had the best sex she'd ever had. It had gotten so bad, that on nights she didn't dream of him, she'd lie in bed using all her might to conjure his spirit. When these dreams did happen, Gaia could not control them. She always woke the next morning, sometimes sore, in her bed, alone, and fully clothed in pajamas that she never remembered putting on.

I didn't hear anything after that but felt something wet on my back as someone is putting some kind of ointment in my wound but is it possible to apply ointments by their tongue? Maybe possible in our dream. When I thought it was done, a hand placed a cold cloth on my burning forehead that was soothing my body heat. I think I am having a fever in my dream but it felt so real. I chuckled inwardly and hugged the pillow even tightly. --- "What the hell are you doing here?" Someone shouted from behind. I can sense the anger in his voice but I'm busier in drowning in my body heat as the temperature in my body raised 110 degrees Celsius. But I have a fever in my dream, not in reality. Have I?

The room was deathly silent except for the frantic beat of my heart in my ears. His low voice and the one from my dreams overlapped, weaving into a single key that unlocked my carefully built self-deception with a sharp click. He was Mr. Y—the man who sang off-key love songs to me at midnight, and the very same one who had chastised me relentlessly in the day. I stared at him. His handsome face was so close, and the usual coldness and distance were gone, replaced by a fragile, pleading vulnerability. The light in his eyes flickered like a candle tossed all night by a stormy wind.

I hate standing around babysitting these bitches. For the main reason, Tiberius waking up would be more for my sake. If he wakes up, maybe just MAYBE I can stop having these fucked up dreams. Bisnonna still hasn’t called me back, but I know these dreams are connected to Tiberius. I see glimpses of him as I have to face off against some pretty weird shit. Yes, more bizarre than the giant Queen of Hearts playing card hitting a hedgehog at me like a game of croquet from Alice in Wonderland.

I was sobbing so hard I could barely breathe. Rowan grabbed a washcloth and wet it with water. He gently wiped my face, his touch was so tender it only made me cry harder. “Iris, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice filled with worry. “Talk to me.” He pressed his hand to my forehead, and I heard him inhale sharply. “You’re burning up,” he murmured. “You have a fever.” But all I could think of was the dream. “Something’s wrong with me,” I sobbed, my voice breaking. “Rowan, something is really wrong with me.”

He seemed to be fading. “I’ll see you again, Jennah.” The buzzing grew louder. Jennah opened her eyes. Her alarm clock was going off. She reached over and slapped a hand on the snooze button and then focused to make sure she was in her room. She blew out a breath and tried to shake the fog from her mind. That explained a few things. The dream was so real, but not at the same time. Too bad, really. That man, Dominic, her mind had invented was quite nice to look at. No more chocolate caramel popcorn for you before bed, she thought as she slowly sat up.

“If I knew, I would fix it. I can’t stop getting enough blood. I feel like a bus ran over me. Literally, I feel like I was hit by a bus. Those dreams were so real, so powerful, and I can’t shake them, Alex. I never, ever, have had anything feel like this before. I woke up a pool of sweat and took a shower once already. I feel like a wreck, and all I can do is think about Amber.” “Wow, Dom, that is crazy. I didn’t realize that. I don’t think I have ever heard you say anything about dreaming before.” “No, I hadn’t. I had this vision, which sucked a lot of energy from me. I then fell asleep, which just became a trap. I was stuck in a wonderfully, erotic, real, intense, and I don’t have the word

"Serena" He called again wanting to be sure that this wasn't one of those dreams he woke up with screams and sweats all over his body seeing her not moving or answering his calls, seeing her with those puff eyes with tears in it he just wants to console her even if it's a dream he wouldn't want to see her in tears not now and never. He began to move wanting to stand up so he could reach out to Serena. "Fuck this hospital and it's equipment"