Technoblade X Dream Novels & Stories

ONE Tulip's POV. Tonight was when I would lose my virginity to Damian, my boyfriend, my mate. He had been patient enough to wait ever since our mating ceremony, and I made a secret deal that when I get the approval to be a Coach to Hockey Dreamers players, I shall be ready for sex. I applied the red lipstick on my lips, ensuring I was good to go in the mirror before exiting the dorm room. I was locking up when; "And where is the nerd going, dressed like this?" I heard the voice of Xavier Grey, my childhood bully and Damian's cousin who was also his greatest rival.

Her skin soft and warm against his, her breath on his chest, her hair smelled of lavender brushed under his chin. "You don't remember anything?" she couldn't imagine what he must've gone through. He shook his head, "I had a dream about it ... I think it was a glimpse of what I saw in that brief time I woke up in that room ..." he rubbed his face to wipe away the nightmare. "I don't want something like that to happen to you ... we can't risk it, your teacher is right, we have to get out of this contract." Charlie paused for a moment, she too had a confession to make. "About my teacher ..."

Blade’s POV I woke up panting and sweating profusely from head to toe. It had been over three months since I had dreamt of anything. No surprise that after such a long break, I would have a terrifying dream of being chased by my own wolf. The cold wind blew against my skin, sending chills down my spine. For the umpteenth time, I had slept on the bench outside Camila’s cottage. I stared at my phone and was astonished to see that it was five minutes past five in the morning. I couldn’t believe that I had been asleep for almost ten hours.

Pointing the blades to the supposed threat. Just as he was about to plunge forward, I walked in on his crazy idea of defense. “ What do you think you are trying to do Balmoh? Are you crazy? Put that down this Instant!” I commanded, crossing my arms in exasperation. Can't anything be normal around here? Now it's an eight-year-old wielding a knife, threatening to kill someone. An absolute stranger at that! Where's everyone anyways? Nobody is ever around when you need them. “ Ssshhh, come over to this side Zoa. This is between the two of us. I can't put the knife down, how else would we protect ourselves.” He turned to face me, throwing his hands up as if stating the obvious. Urgh!

BLADE 3. Pain. It was all I felt when I shot my eyes opened. I felt so sore and tired. The memories of how Lorenzo plunged deeper into me last night filled my mind. He was so cruel to me. I didn't find any enjoyment in it at all. I tried lifting my hands and I was happy It was back to functioning. My tit hurts too as a result of the sucking he did last night.

"Do you have a question, kitten?" She nodded. "You may ask one question." "What is this place?" Blake crossed to the stove to peer into the tub of water. "This is my play cabin. Some Doms have a dungeon, I have a cabin." He returned and stopped behind her, lifting her hair, twisting it up and securing it with a large tortoiseshell clip.

Nova chuckled hoping for a miracle, "Plate flipper! But I hope you find your dream girl there, if she exists for real." A game of destiny, a series of uninvited co-incidences, what's awaiting for Xander and Arabella in the upcoming event? Will their crossing paths begin a new journey?

I touch his chest and start to rub him in slow, circular motions. "And then you came. You saved me. You took the guy off me, beat'em up and then you lifted me into your lap and started to whisper comforting words. Then everything went blank." "So why are you scared? It was just a dream." Xander said looking up at the trees. Intentionally avoiding my eyes. "That's the part that has me scared," I confessed as I stared at him, "Was it a dream? It was so real Xander...So real. How can that be a dream? Why would I even dream that? Is it real Xander? Or is it a dream?"

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.