Pokemon Reaction Novels & Stories

"Do not dare pretend you didn't pray hard to be our mate so you can live in wealth and luxury, human!" one of the mighty angel Kings snaps in disgust. "I measure the quality of a man by his hardwork. Have you worked hard for this wealth, your majesty?" I boldly ask. * * * * * * * The angel kings of Lordsland, considered to be the most flawless of beings, had hoped that they would have a useful mate, like the graceful princess of the neighboring kingdom, especially now that the kingdom is facing the greatest crisis. Attacks by Rogue dragons are becoming more and more frequent, their kingdom could use the help of another army. They are utterly disgusted when a human of no royal blood, Rana, turns out to be their mate. They demand that a special ritual be performed to transfer the mate bond to the woman they truly desire. What they doesn't know is that despite Rana being a human, she hails from a special bloodline. She isn't just the bravest and kindest woman across all kingdoms, she also possess rare blood, the only thing that can control rogue dragons and wipe away every magical spell cast against their reign. Everyone is surprised by Rana's careless reaction to their rejection. Any woman would have knelt and begged to be their cherished queen. But Rana believes that only a kind man with genuine love for her is worth her tears. She also knows that the Angel Kings are making a huge mistake by choosing the pretentious Princess over her.

I could hear the thoughts of the poorest girl in the entire school. At our campus ball, she deliberately ate food that contained nuts to give herself an allergic reaction and blame me for it. With tears streaming down her face, she cried, "I know you don't like me! I know you look down on girls as poor as me, but you can't bully me like this!" Everyone believed her and turned on me, including my fiancé, Mark Hawkins, who was expected to form a political alliance with my family through our engagement. He pinned me in place and demanded that I apologize to the 'victim'. I shook my head, trying desperately to explain that it was not me who put the nuts in her food. That was when I heard the thoughts of that 'poor' girl, Alice, ''So what if she's the mafia don's daughter? I still brought her down. Being defended by her rich, clueless fiancé feels incredible!' I was stunned. Before I could react, Mark pushed me to the floor and said firmly, "Helen, apologizing won't kill you." A disbelieving laugh slipped out of me. I wondered if he would still say the same thing if he could hear Alice's thoughts. When I finally gained the ability to share the thoughts I heard with someone else, I chose Mark without hesitation.

You will marry me! You will be my contract wife! He declared his voice cold and threatening. Ophelia looked at him without averting her gaze. He wasn’t demanding that she marry him; he was commanding her to. “Marry you!” Is that a request or a command? She asserted bravely, not minding whatever was coming her way. She expected Something worse to follow, but she was startled by his reaction instead. He walked closer to her and slowly raised her chin with the tip of his finger. “Ha..ha..ha, I like smart girls,” he enunciates with a devilish smile. It's a command, and you must abide by it. He pauses and moves his Lips Closer to her ear. Ophelia quickly closes her eyes, bracing herself for the impact. Or else……….. He whispered slowly. Then everything paused. She couldn't feel his breath on her skin again and she quickly opened her eyes only to find out she was the only person in the room. It's like he disappeared into thin air. She heaved a sigh of relief as her eyes became blurred with unshed tears. She just found a wallet on the road hoping it would change her life for the better not knowing it's actually for the worse. “She is trapped!” She is Captivated!” And now she is going to be a Captivated Contract bride she can’t deny nor can she accept. One choice. One contract. One dangerous game. Will Ophelia run for her life, or fight for his love? Or will she lose herself in a world of luxury, lies, and power where freedom comes with a price?

I'm the best plastic surgeon in the industry. Hendrick Twain is a regular customer of mine who has gotten his manhood enlarged nine times via surgery. But after I performed the latest surgery on him, he decides to linger around in my clinic instead of leaving. He keeps showing off his brand-new luxury watch while gloating to me, "Isn't this watch pretty, Dr. Yard? Winona was the one who gifted it to me." Upon noticing my lack of reaction, Hendrick approaches with a smile on his face. Then, he lowers his voice. "What's the use of preserving your chastity, anyway? Winona prefers to be with a plastic hunk like me, who's gone through nine manhood enlargement procedures, than be with you, Mr. Au Naturale." As I stare at Hendrick's face, which has gone under the knife countless times for minor adjustments, I remember the excuses Winona Grahm made to my face every night to avoid going home. Just the memory makes my gut churn in disgust. All of my grievances and disgust turn into ice at that moment. Finally, I take the wedding ring off my ring finger and place it on the desk gently. Then, I grab my phone and dial the number, which I haven't called in the past three years. "Dad." I sound eerily calm on the phone. "Since Winona thinks marriage is nothing but a joke to her, then there's no need for the Grahm family to continue existing in this world."

During the mandatory freshman orientation camp, my skin had flared up with a severe allergic reaction, so I didn't use the plastic washbasin the school handed out. Instead, I opened my suitcase and took out the custom silver basin I had brought from home. My roommate, Louisa Carter, immediately made a snide remark, drawling, "You're really something, huh? Kids from broke families like us are lucky to have any basin at all." I didn't bother responding. I simply pulled out my facial essence to do a cold compress, but she immediately rushed over, slapped the bottle out of my hand, and jabbed a finger at my face. "Bet you get tens of thousands a month for living expenses. You have a sugar daddy, don't you? Don't you feel guilty making your folks work their fingers to the bone back on the farm? People like you don't deserve to be at our school. I'm reporting you to the student counselor." I laughed in disbelief and slapped her. … The next morning, the family photo I'd left on my desk had been slashed to ribbons. Across the back, carved in ink, were the words: 'Daughter of a homewrecker. Go to hell.' I went straight to the police. While officers pulled the dorm security footage, our student counselor and the university president rushed in. The moment the president saw the man whose face had been cut apart in my photo, his legs nearly buckled. He almost dropped to his knees.

I am born with a body that draws men in, but the moment I marry, I develop a terrifying allergy to them. Every time my husband and I try to be intimate, my skin erupts in violent rashes, and I nearly suffocate. Still, I want a child so badly that one night I climb into his bed in secret, willing to gamble with my life. Strangely, nothing happens—no hives, no swelling, no shortness of breath. My husband even takes me to a clinic, where the baby is confirmed healthy. For the first time, I believe life can return to normal. Eight months in, we share a bed again. The allergic reaction hits instantly, worse than ever, and I'm rushed to the hospital. When the procedure ends, he is nowhere to be seen. I step into the hallway and hear him talking with his friends. "Did you see her face? Swollen like that. Ridiculous." Leonard Carter swings a vial of the custom serum he has been giving me and snorts. "I engineered this formula myself. It makes her break out the second a man touches her. It keeps her off me. "She wanted a baby so badly. Fine. She's carrying mine and Hannah's. That should make her feel accomplished. "When she gives birth, I'll let her spend the rest of her life calling herself Mrs. Carter." Blood drains from my face. The child I've been cherishing isn't even mine.

His eyes locked with mine and I could feel the strength of the mate bond gnawing at me, but I forced it down. Devin eyed me with annoyance and prominent in his gorgeous grey eyes.“Alpha Devin, this is my daughter.” Papa Jamie said with pride in his voice. Devin gave him a weird look, but turned to me instead. Before he could speak I cut him off with a surveying look from head to toe. He was still as hot as hell if not more; his body was more built and his face more chiseled than before. He looked all man and sue me for finding it sexy. mate bond. My eyes were void of emotion as I looked at the pack that flanked him and back into his stormy grey eyes. I stuck out my hand with a smirk on my face, “Welcome to the Blue Moon Pack.” He grasped my hand and shocks ran up my arm and through my body as it did his causing his eyes to widen, but before he could react I continued. “I am Alpha Allison Trust Wells.” My tone oozed confidence and mirth. I heard a few gasps, but the biggest reaction I got was from Devin whose eyes widened in shock.~~~A story of hurt, betrayal and second chances in a world of mystical creatures. Allison is a young Shewolf with a gift from the Goddess Selene. Join her as she navigates the web of secrets and lies weaved by the people she once thought of as family and learns forgiveness.Not all second chances are started on a clean slate...

********* “Did you really come all the way here to tell me you were with another woman you slept with and impregnated?” “What?” Travis is the one who speaks, his voice echoing his shock as he looks from me to Kian. Kian’s usual blank look remains as if he is unaffected by my words and the pain he has caused me. “Let’s not do this here, Leslie. You know I can’t just leave her.” I scoff. “I never stopped you. You know what? You should have never come here. You should have stayed with her since that is where your loyalties lie now and I am no longer in the picture.” Kian frowns, moving closer and intimidating me just a little with his height and muscular frame, “What does that mean? You are my wife.” “Ex-wife,” I say the words without even thinking. I didn’t think any of this through but I don’t care because my entire being seems to agree that this is what’s best for me, “I want a divorce, Kian.” His eyes grow wide, unable to contain the shock at my words and I am proud of myself that I finally got a reaction that isn’t anger or coldness from him. “Both the divorce papers and my resignation will find their way to you soon.” I add before he can get over his shock and I don’t wait for him to reply as I turn to an equally stunned Travis. “Take me home, Travis.”

During my night shift, I refused to help my adopted sister administer fluids to her patient. After the wrong drug is given, I watch a seven-year-old boy die after he suffers an allergic reaction right before my eyes. In my previous life, the boy's family stormed the nurses' station after I'd just finished administering his IV medication. The next thing I knew, I was violently beaten up. "You poisoned my grandchild by giving him the wrong medicine!" But the fluid I introduced into his bloodstream was a simple glucose solution. It couldn't have led to such a disastrous outcome. When I was on the brink of passing out, someone called the police. I thought help had finally arrived, but I was sorely mistaken. The police officer—my brother—pinned me to the ground. "We found your prints on the drug vial. You're a murderer." Then, my childhood friend, a forensic pathologist, held up an autopsy report and accused me of the same crime. "The patient's time of death is around 5:00 am. That's the same time you administered drugs into his system." Unable to prove my innocence, I was ultimately beaten to death by the boy's enraged family members. My brother and my childhood friend had always loved me. Even on the brink of death, I couldn't understand why they would do this to me. Now, I open my eyes and find myself back on the night it all began.

The world snapped back into focus, the memories of my brutal end crashing into the present. I was back—right here, right now, the exact moment Jarrold Jameson was trying to hand me that obscenely expensive purse. In my past life, he'd had a nasty fight with his precious Cindy Mayford. To make her jealous, he decided to use me as his pawn. I'd been stupid enough to love him once, but my pride had revolted. I'd refused to be a stand-in. It didn't matter. He kept engineering "accidental" run-ins, crafting one public misunderstanding after another, all to get a reaction from Cindy. I had done nothing wrong. I gained nothing. But I became Cindy's enemy. Her jealousy festered until it turned lethal. She had me kidnapped. The men she hired left my body shattered and broken. And Jarrold? He held his sobbing darling close and whispered those unforgettable words, "She got what she deserved." In the end, they stepped right over what was left of me and walked off into their picture-perfect life. Now, staring into his smug face, a cold clarity settled over me. This time, everything would be different. I snatched the handbag from his grasp. "A present for me?" I asked, my voice sweet, a sharp, calculated smile on my lips. "I love it. But just so you know, for next time… I've always preferred the classic design from her family's brand. That's the one you should be buying me."