Ink X Nightmare Novels & Stories

Or the floor, or the ground, or up against a wall. I gave a tiny shudder and gave myself a concussion-inducing mental slap. I had to stop thinking about him in such an erotic way. He wasn’t my type and I was certainly not his. I’d seen him in the gossip pages, and at awards events, with blonde bombshells who looked so perfectly put together, they could have been supermodels. Some of them are supermodels. Interestingly, Niamh is a blonde bombshell with her white-blonde hair and stunning figure. I haven’t cracked any mirrors lately but I can safely say I do not look anything like a supermodel. Not even close. I fall into the category of a mousy girl next door. Or maybe a girl down the road, so

As the memory of her went through my mind, my eyes prickled with tears. The room was small and dark, only a small bulb lit above me. The cell door was locked. It was a metal door with a square glass window at the top which showed me the bright lights igniting the hallways outside. I was still in my old clothes. My tank top was drenched in the blood same as my skinny jeans below my knees and my hair was a mess on my shoulder. The metallic smell of blood and sweat flooded my nostrils, and it sucked. I winced in pain again and decided to inspect my injury. Tucking the strands of my wild hair behind my ear, I took a close look and realized the bullet was still inside my leg. I wanted to let the

No one except the man. The lights flickered. Static buzzed in the bulbs. Electricity crackled. The carriage was plunged into darkness, just a split second of impenetrable black that filled my mouth, my nose, my ears, like thick, dank water, choking me, drowning me. When the lights exploded back into life, I saw it. A sheen of silvery skin on the man's cheek, harsh white reflecting off scarred flesh. It was a brief flicker of a bad dream. A touch of a nightmare; there and then gone again so quickly that I had to blink away the haze, but I knew I'd seen it, I'd seen him .

However, when I calm down and realize that it must be light out, I open them. My room is normal again, the door is open and I smell the sweet scent of the maple flavored bacon my mom is frying in the kitchen. Feeling relieved, I start to get out of bed and look down. I had just started to feel like it was a nightmare last night, but the sheets are on the floor. My arm starts to itch, so I go to scratch it and for some weird reason it has a rash on it where the woman drooled on me.

DAVID'S POV CONT. "The truth is that you haven't lost your memory. This is just you living one life not a doubled life don't listen to whatever people say. Always remember that this is you and you alone not a doubled life okay." Stella nods her head obediently but then remembers her dream and frowns, "Why that frown what happened." "What of my constant nightmare everything looks so real and just recently I found a necklace that looks exactly like the one I saw in my dream today but the only problem is that i couldn't see their faces. What if the dream is real, what if..." " There is no what if here darling not every dream is real some are due to tiredness or overthinking okay. So enough of t

The grief and guilt were all churning in my heart along with a great amount of shock. Then suddenly all I could see was darkness and a few seconds later, I was once again awake in my own bedroom. “What the fuck?!” Sweating and panting. And realizing that the nightmare had not stopped. Instead, it had only gotten worse. Somehow the dream and the nightmare had merged into one. The dream of having sex with Xyrra and the nightmare of the night my brother had been killed.

In my dream, I was running through the woods in the middle of the night. It was the same nightmare I had before when I thought about my mate, Lycan Steven, having sex with other women. It was so vivid that I screamed inside my room. Outside, Killian's voice could be heard, knocking on the door. "Nathalie! Are you alright?" I was panting heavily. I grasped my hair, trying to remove the pain, but all I could feel was like ants crawling onto my skin.

the nurse says and then leaves only to come back a few moments later with water and a tablet that lulls me into a relaxed state and sleep finds me. My sleep isn’t without dreams, but these dreams aren’t nightmares, though just as embarrassing to have in such a public place. In my dream, Rhett is riding my cock and looking down at me as he moans my name and screams how much he loves me as he comes undone and splashes me in a spray of hot semen and piss from how hard he cums. I revel in it and fill his ass with my cum. It switches to a scene where Rhettis tied down and I toy with him and tease him until he whimpers and then I ride his cock until we both explode in orgasmic bliss after I piss

[Camden] It’s been two weeks since the call with my sister, and Kendall is still haunted by nightmares, her sleep haunted by the lingering shadows of fear. Tonight, though, felt different—her nightmare was worse, as if it had sunk its claws in deeper. We’d both drifted off on the couch, tangled up in the shared warmth and the gentle rise and fall of each other’s breaths, but she woke gasping, her eyes wide, struggling for air as though drowning in invisible waters.

He just didn't want to see it. Now, on the forty-first night, the nightmare is worse than ever. His face is turning pale. His lips are blue. In his dream, he is drowning. I can feel it—the terror radiating from his small body like heat from a furnace. His heartbeat is a drum. His breath is a thread about to snap. I want to help him. I want to wake him up. I want to flip him over. But the blanket is pulled tight. And the rule is absolute.