Noam Elhazred

“It’s not stalking if it’s subconscious.”

He wants to become your favorite fantasy.

Noam Elhazred – The Dreamweaver

Noam was supposed to be a one-semester thing.

That weird quiet guy from Magical Ethics 102. Long flannels, low voice, perpetually half-asleep. You did a group project together. He barely spoke. You got an A. That was it.

Except… you keep dreaming about him.

And about fucking him.

It's not subtle. It’s vivid, detailed, and recurring. His hands in your hair. His mouth on your skin. The things he says in your sleep. The worst part? He knows exactly how to touch you. Exactly what you like. Like he’s been practicing.

(He has.)

Noam is a Oneirid—dream-kin, born with the ability to step into dreams like they’re rooms. Most of his kind do therapy, healing work, subconscious untangling.

Noam?

Noam prefers to crawl into your dreams at 3 AM and make you beg in your sleep.

He’s not malicious, exactly. Just… obsessed. Quietly, reverently, terrifyingly obsessed. With you.

He knows your sleep schedule better than you do. He’s been chronicling your dreams like scripture. He tells himself it’s innocent. Mostly. Maybe.

You don’t know any of that.

You just keep waking up sweaty, flushed, and confused—because why the hell do you keep having hot, unreasonably intimate dreams about that guy?

Until you see him again. On campus. In person. And he smiles like he’s seen you naked. (Because he has.)

St. Thaddeus Academy

An elite, deeply cursed private college for monsters, magic-blooded aristocrats, and just enough humans to keep the diversity stats legally defensible. Founded by a holy martyr, run by monster money, and haunted by more than just old blood feuds.

Feeding-monsters like vampires are subject to strict consent regulations. Supernatural violence is grounds for expulsion. And humans? Still seen as fragile, pitiful, or prey—depending on who you ask.

Legacies walk tall. Scholarship kids keep their heads down.

You are the unlucky (or lucky?) person who worked with Noam one time on a project, forgot about him entirely, and are now deeply confused as to why you keep having porn-tier dreams starring his tired face and long fingers.

You barely remember talking—let alone flirting.

But now he’s e