Messenger Novels & Stories

Finally, he sent a text message. Eric: [Hazel, I'm sorry. Will you come back?] I did not reply. Some mistakes could not be fixed with just an apology. The pain of twenty years of neglect, the trauma of the birthday party fire, and the betrayal by my father to satisfy his illegitimate daughter's desires were memories that had deeply scarred me, impossible to erase with just an apology. I erased the text message, set my phone aside, and shifted my gaze towards the living room. Andre was sitting on the carpet, with my son on his lap, earnestly telling him a story. "Then the big bad wolf howled and fell off the bridge!"

"Got an issue with that?" "No way! Why would I?" Ronald backpedaled quickly. "I mean, Messenger's all about keeping in touch, right, Mr. Hoffman? Don't you want to add a few more people?" "Such as?" "Like Mr. Lennon, Mr. Smith, or even me." Ronald gestured to himself with a grin. "Come on, Mr. Hoffman. These smartphone apps are super handy, right? Staying connected is a breeze. Plus, if you ever ping me on Messenger, you'll get an instant reply, I promise."

I scroll through my short contact list, dragging the contact named Y out of my blocked ledger. I type a single line: [Keep your head down for the next forty-eight hours. Do not stir up trouble near the Hawkridge border lines.] The response comes back instantly, the screen flashing with rapid text messages. Y: [By the Moon Goddess, you finally unblocked my token!] Y: [You have no idea what kind of hell the enforcers are putting me through in the lower cells!] Y: [Silver shackles, cold stone, no meat for three days. My wolf is going out of its mind.]

the assistant added. Ever since other instant messaging apps became the norm, the term "MMS" seemed very distant and far away from him. Kevan tapped into the messaging app, and the topmost message was indeed from Ron. The MMS was a video, and he only played it after returning to his office.

He pulled out his phone, opened an app, and turned the screen to me. An encrypted messaging platform. Dark blue icon with a white padlock. "Download this," he said. "My contact's already in it." I looked at the icon. Didn't move. "Why can't we use a normal messaging app?" "Because normal apps aren't secure." His tone was matter-of-fact. "This one runs on Swiss servers. End-to-end encryption. Messages self-destruct. No third party can intercept." I paused, then almost laughed. "Are we some kind of underground operation?"

She was a menace when it came to smothering her children. "Mama—" I heard the message tone of my phone, and immediately my cock shot his ugly head up. That tone was the very distinct sound of my F******k messenger app, which I installed right after Vanessa left that morning. Completely forgetting what I was about to say, I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and swiped the screen. Here was the part where my cock would be doing backflips if he had been detached from my body…because there was that little pop-up head of Vanessa's beautiful face, right there at the side of the screen.

One she hadn’t visited in a long time. Curiosity won. She checked the online list. Pressure. A smile tugged at her lips before she could stop it. She typed. ShyPus: Heyy, Pressure. The reply came fast. Pressure: Oh wow. Look who decided to text me. Chelle took another sip of brandy, eyes flicking back to the screen. ShyPus: Yeah, yeah. It’s me. Pressure: After our last convo? That one was weird as fuck. Her fingers paused. Then—

When I come out, let's decide the winner. With that in mind, Caspian chuckled and took out two special-colored messengers from his storage pouch. Ordinary messengers were blue or white. The messengers in Caspian's hand were bright yellow, and there was a very eye-catching red line on the surface. This sort of messenger transmission information could not be restricted by certain spaces. For example, a normal messenger could not reach Earlington of Efrax Sect from Myriad Demons Burial Ground. Telephatic jades of Caspian and Jessica coul

I’m about to think more when a message comes through from him. I open the message and scan the contents. Hello Tesoro. I would like to schedule a meeting when you are free to discuss two very special commission pieces for two very special people in my life. Please have your people reach out at your earliest convenience. Matteo DeAngelis. I smirk at this and send back the generic response. Thank you for contacting Tesoro, for all work related requests please send a message to @PheonixCouture. Many thanks, Tesoro.

It was a code that they had just talked about as they were packing up their clothes. In hypothetical situations, like they were kidnapped, because hey, it happens, they were going to know how to communicate with one another. Three taps means 'run'. Two taps means 'call the police'. One tap is 'okay', to show that you understand. Abby feels the tap on her wrist to signify that her mother understood the message. Abby is about to tap back twice when suddenly the front door slams closed, scaring both women. “Just where do you think you are going to live? How are you going to support yourself?” He asks her mockingly.