Fusionfall Fusion Novels & Stories

The aspirin was useless. Not because it didn't function anymore, but because Vanessa found that she didn't need it after all. Her migraines died out after her talk with Jake and they did not return. When she woke in the morning, she grabbed her phone to see if Jake had texted her, while half-praying he hadn't texted her. But there was no message from an unknown number. She frowned, a little disappointed, and she did not understand why she felt disappointed. She sighed, dropped her phone and rolled out of bed.

Before Milo she’d walked past it a couple of times, always intending to step in but never really getting around to it; then they started going out and he’d told her they served the best coffees in New York—a bias perhaps, since he’d worked there, but one visit was all it took for her to fall in love with the place. Since then they’d been there a couple of times, enough at least that most of the staff knew her not only by name, but by her usual order too: A pumpkin spiced latte, and two gluten-free double chocolate muffins—the latter she demolished only when she was sure her office’s door was locked, as once an assistant had walked in on her mid-bite and gone pale, wearing an expression like

Just three days to gather an impossible sum of money, or everything she had fought for, everything she had endured, would come crashing down. The door swung open, and she stepped inside, closing it behind her before sagging against the wood. Her heart pounded furiously, her breaths shallow and uneven. The walls of her tiny apartment felt like they were closing in, suffocating her in the silence that now carried a new weight—fear. Her knees buckled, and she slid down to the floor, pressing her palms against her face. A shudder ran through her, frustration mixing with desperation, creating a volatile storm inside her.

"A mess. He is scrambling to borrow money to cover the holes, but it's too much. He can't fill it." "How much?" "Nearly 20 million dollars. The company is on the verge of bankruptcy." I sighed, "Has he called the police?" "Yeah, but Yvette ran off clean," John replied. "It will take time to track her down." I hung up, reflecting. Elliot's betrayal hurt, but we'd shared five years and a son. His downfall stung, but it was his doing.

“I’m just thankful that we are still your mates, I was worried that things would end up being different with you not being a fallen.” I shook my head in shock. “What’s a fallen?” “They were angels in past lives and they’re used as tools to combat demons. They’re extremely rare because they’re normally killed off but you had survived. Baby, what I’m telling you is the truth.” He said. “This is a bit much for me to digest honestly, I barely know any of you.” I told him. A fallen? What’s he going on about things being different? I’m so confused. “I made you fall in love with me once, I’ll do it again.” He approached me and I felt tingles, proving that we were mates. He rested his forehead on to

“Now you’ve fallen—you’ve lost everything you were meant to be—just because of me!” He pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, his gaze full of love and quiet certainty. “Haven’t I fallen hard enough? Long before I lost my wings… I had already fallen completely for you. And that fall was far deeper, far more real, and far more permanent than anything else I could ever experience.”

Eventually, he grew emotional and yelled, "I just made an error, that's all! "There's always a margin of error. This doesn't prove that I tampered with the report. You can't just accuse me of falsifying the report!" All of a sudden, David remembered something. He excitedly pulled out his phone and started scrolling through it. After looking through his gallery, he pulled out the photo of the finger diagram and said, "Nick reminded me of something. There's always a margin of error, but the prints on the drug vial definitely belong to Natalie. This is concrete proof that no one touched the vial but her."

… When I came to, Lina was sitting at my side, her eyes swollen and red. I knew instantly what had happened. I slowly reached for my now-flat stomach. There was a pang of sorrow, yes, but also a strange sense of relief. With a father like Dario, perhaps not being born was a mercy. I asked Lina to hand me my phone. When I turned it on, I saw that Fran had flooded her social media with updates. One photo showed her reclining in a bathtub, back exposed, surrounded by rose petals and red wine, the city skyline glittering in the distance.

I moan, tightening my legs around him, holding myself in place so that he can fuck me with all his might. I don’t know how long we’re like that, our bodies wrapped together, our moans and groans of passion filling the tight space around us, and our hot breath steaming the windows so that no one can mistake what it is that we are doing. All I know is that by the time it all ends, I’m too exhausted to move and feel myself drifting in and out of consciousness. During my haze, I feel like my body is floating, or maybe it is being carried. I’m not sure, but when it touches something soft and is wrapped in warmth, I can no longer hold on, and I’m drifting.