Rushed Novels & Stories

Xena Quinn posted in the homeowners' group: “Anyone interested in adopting a puppy? $200 each.” I took her at her word and rushed over to adopt one. When she opened the door and saw me, her expression immediately soured, clearly disgusted. “What? A woman?” She quickly raised the price to $2,000 per puppy, and I was so pissed off I just turned around and walked out. The next day, my boyfriend, Hugo Xavier, bought the dog for the original $200 price. Before I could even process what had happened, the doorbell rang. There she was, standing at the door in a revealing nightgown. “Hugo, are you home? I came to check on the puppy.”

Connor's missing first love was found. When he received the police call, he lost his composure and rushed out of the office, forgetting to grab his jacket from the chair. The business partners he was discussing a new collaboration with were stunned, all of them unconsciously looking at Anne. "It's fine, continue," Anne withdrew her gaze from following Connor, offering a poised smile as she smoothly took over his unfinished words. "Regarding the investment in the new project..." An hour later, Anne personally saw off the business partners. She returned to her office, picked up her phone, and saw that there were no messages from Connor. Anne called Connor. After a few rings, the call was answered, but it was a girl's voice on the other end.

Jax I called out quickly rushed over to him. Jax, are you okay?. I brushed his hair away from his face. His beautiful eyes were deep red and he was covered in sweat. A...Aurora.He called my name in a whisper " You're here?. He said, fear evident in his voice. Of course I am. What the hell happened to you? Did you get into a fight? Are you hurt?. I questioned. My blood boiled at the thought of someone hurting him. If there was then I would snap all bones out of the culprit’s body. He shook his head. It's none of those things. He grabbed my waist, burying his face in my stomach. Then what was it?.

For years, Viola thought their marriage was built on love, until she overheard the truth. Her husband’s heart had never belonged to her, but to another woman… his brother’s wife. Every anniversary, he left her alone, not because of “work,” but to prove his loyalty to the woman he could never have. And when his brother died, he rushed to comfort the widow, protecting her from blame while neglecting his own wife and family. Now, he wants to bring his sister-in-law and her daughter into their home. Humiliated and heartbroken, Viola finally decides to walk away, only for the lies to unravel one by one. Because the brother they buried isn’t dead. And the woman everyone pitied is far darker than she seems.

I knew Adeline Shaw had been entangled with her childhood sweetheart for over a decade, but I still dove headfirst into our relationship without hesitation. Then came our engagement day. Adeline got a call that her childhood sweetheart had collapsed and was in the hospital. Without a second thought, she dropped everything - dropped me - and rushed to his side. My grandmother, who witnessed this whole scene, hurried after her. In her rush, she was struck by a car. By the time they got her to the hospital, it was too late. We couldn't save her. That's when I finally let go. She was never truly mine, and I shouldn't have tried to force what wasn't meant to be.

In my previous life, my sister set her sights on the formidable river dragon and married him without hesitation. I chose the unassuming merman. She thought she would ascend as the queen of the dragon clan. However, when the river dragon failed his ascension trial, my sister, as his mate, was caught in the fallout and narrowly escaped death. Meanwhile, the merman unexpectedly inherited the Sea God’s Legacy and rose to become ocean royalty. Everyone knew I was to become the empress. At the celebratory banquet, my sister poisoned my wine. Reborn into a new life, my sister rushed toward the merman and chose him, saying, “The empress’ throne will be mine!” Little did she know that the merfolk’s true nature was cruel, finding pleasure in tormenting others.

I went on holiday intending to forget everything about my failed college admission. Instead, the heat stripped me bare, stolen looks that turned into touches, touches that into desires .With him, every desire wasn’t rushed; it simmered, built in shared rooms until restraint felt like a lie we were both tired of telling. What we did there was indulgent and dangerous, a secret written on my body before I ever said his name out loud. I knew it couldn’t last. I knew what it cost. But in that borrowed place, I let myself want him fully and it became the best holiday of my life, because for once, I didn’t stop something that felt so good.

When Ivy Yarley learned that Jason Hough had been in an accident due to speeding and lost a massive amount of blood, she rushed to the hospital without hesitation and donated a full liter of blood for him. His friends all urged her to go home and get some rest. Reluctantly, she agreed, but the moment she reached the exit, worry hung heavily in her heart, so she turned back. That was when she saw the nurse dumping all five full bags of blood that had just been drawn from her into the trash can. Before she could even process what was happening, a burst of laughter erupted from a nearby room. "Hahaha! That idiot Ivy Yarley fell for it again!"

It was the thirtieth anniversary of my alma mater, and I had been invited back to give a speech. But as I stepped on stage, my husband's illegitimate son rushed toward me, brandishing a knife. His accusations rang through the hall: I was a homewrecker, the woman who had driven his mother to her death. He went even further, kidnapping my daughter and threatening her safety unless I publicly read a letter of confession. I was beaten to within an inch of my life, my body battered and bruised. I demanded my husband come forward and confront the truth. Instead, he turned on me. "I was forced to be with you in the first place!" my husband spat, venom dripping from every word. "You're the real mistress!"

At our seventh wedding anniversary party, Caleb Thorne shares a drink with his childhood sweetheart. My face darkens, and he publicly snaps at me in front of everyone. "It's just playful fun between friends—why are you so uptight? If I really had something going on with Emma, do you think you'd ever have become my wife?" He storms off in anger. That same night, his childhood sweetheart updates her social media banner to a photo of her holding hands with Caleb. In the past, I would've rushed to her house without a second thought, dragged Caleb out, and demanded to know if he ever truly loved me. But this time, I don't care anymore.