Pokemon Suit Tf Novels & Stories

My father, Henry Carlton, is a genius painter. My mother, Candace Mills, is a world-class dancer. Dad says Mom is his muse. To marry her, he gives up a family fortune worth hundreds of millions. Everyone is moved to tears by their beautiful love story. But on the day I am born, Mom is left paralyzed from childbirth and can never dance again. While taking care of me as I cry day and night, Dad does everything he can to help Mom recover. One day, he disappears. All he leaves behind is one letter accusing Mom and me of destroying his inspiration. He says we are the ones to blame. My helpless Mom holds me in her arms as I do nothing but cry. She becomes convinced that if I can become Dad's new muse, he will come back. So, she pushes herself through grueling rehabilitation and devotes everything she has to training me. When I win the silver medal at a national dance championship, Mom finally sees Dad again. Dressed in an impeccable suit, he carries himself with the confidence and air of a wealthy man. He has one arm wrapped around one of the competition judges, and the two of them are openly affectionate with each other. Unable to take the sight of him with another woman, Mom runs out. While chasing after her, I tumble down a flight of stairs. When I finally limp back home, Mom is waiting for me. She grips a stick tightly with a dark look in her eyes. "If you can't become a muse, then what good are you?"

For ten years, Charles served as the heart of his department at Black Industries, a senior manager renowned for his fierce protection of his team and his unwavering professional integrity. He was the buffer between his staff and the cold corporate world—until his boss’s blatant homophobic remarks crossed a line he could no longer tolerate. Refusing to work in an environment of prejudice, Charles walked away, a move that shattered the status quo and finally forced the "Iron Fist" CEO, David Black, to drop his mask. David, the formidable heir to the Black empire, had spent a decade secretly curating Charles’s career, keeping him close under the guise of professional necessity. The shock of Charles’s departure unearths years of repressed history and David’s deep-seated feelings. Realizing he cannot lose the one person who truly knows him, David pursues Charles, leading to a vulnerable and intense reunion. As the professional walls crumble, they begin a passionate love story, transitioning from the boardroom to a shared life of domestic warmth. Their new family is anchored by Charles’s two loyal companions: Bruce, a gentle Black Labrador, and Abe, an energetic Border Collie. Together, they find solace in quiet park walks and shared evenings, finally building the home David never thought he could have. However, their newfound happiness is not without its shadows. Standing in the wings is a formidable figure from the past—a tall, imposing presence in a suit and tie who refuses to let David’s legacy go. This mysterious antagonist threatens to dismantle their fragile peace, forcing Charles and David to decide if their love is strong enough to withstand a legacy designed to keep them apart.

Ria's life was turned upside down when her billionaire husband threw the divorce papers at her face! He wanted to divorce her and marry his lover who was a thousand times better than her. "It's time for us to go our separate ways, Ria. These five years have been nothing but torture to me. I don't love you," Wyatt Earlson declared. His tone was emotionless and indifferent. It seems like all the years together were nothing but a joke in his eyes. Eventually, he would choose that woman over her. Heartbroken and depressed, she took off on a dark rainy night. She had devoted herself to him and his family yet they treated her like trash. She was continuously abused and neglected yet she stayed by his side because she thought he loved her. Suddenly, a man in an exquisite black suit drove a limousine up to her and said, "Miss Flinch, I'm assigned to pick you up and return to your family. Your brothers and grandfather are awaiting your return," Few months later, she came back with a new identity and title that SHOCKED the world. When she arrived at the ball a few weeks later, they asked, "Isn't she that broke country girl who was divorced by her husband?" "How dare a street rat like her show up in this place?!" The moment Euphoria (Ria) Riley Flinch was born, the people who looked down on her, scorned and treated her like trash started to drop on their knees and beg for her mercy. "Please forgive me. I was wrong," they cried. Even her ex husband was now begging her for forgiveness. However, she only raised her chin and stepped on their fingers.

“Don’t you ever resist me again,” he breathed, his words brushing my skin like fire. One hand held my wrists captive above my head; the other traced the line of my throat, caging me against the wall. I looked up at him. My tormentor, my weakness, and the man I craved like sin itself. --- A fire stole her childhood. A contract stole her freedom. Now, a man dressed in a suit that costs more than her life is about to steal her heart. And possibly destroy what’s left of her soul. Evie remembers nothing before the fire, only the smell of smoke, the sound of screams, and a name she can’t forget. Years later, her life is a cycle of debt, slavery, and forced silence. She works herself to the bone while living in the shadow of her perfect cousin, never realizing she was born into a secret far darker than her life. Until the night she’s traded — like property to repay an old family debt — to a man no one dares to speak about. A man whose reputation bleeds power, cruelty, and blood. But instead of chains, he offers her a deal. Marry him, obey him. And never ask questions. Just business. But every time he touches her, the line between fear and longing blurs. His presence unearths flashes of her past, and memories that burn her alive. Because her husband is not who he seems. And the fire that destroyed her life didn’t happen by accident. As their marriage turns into a war of control and desire, Evie finds herself caught between the man who owns her and the truth that could set her free. But freedom comes with a great price. And love is the priciest thing she's ever had.

Three months before my wedding, I found my fiancé buried deep inside my maid of honor. ​I gave Leo five years of my life. I ironed his shirts, managed his stress, and sacrificed my own dreams to build our perfect future. My reward? Standing in the doorway of our bedroom, listening to him call me "boring" while he ruined our bed with my best friend. ​Shattered, humiliated, and completely alone, I ran out into the freezing, torrential rain with nothing but the clothes on my back. I thought my life was over. I thought I had hit rock bottom. ​Until a massive black umbrella blocked out the storm, and a heavy, expensive suit jacket was draped over my trembling shoulders. ​Alexander. Leo’s incredibly wealthy, terrifyingly ruthless Godfather. ​He is older. Untouchable. The most feared man in the city and the patriarch who controls Leo’s entire inheritance. He is the ultimate forbidden fruit. ​He didn't look at me with pity as I sat bleeding and broken on the pavement. He looked at me with a dark, consuming hunger that made my breath hitch. Kneeling in the wet street, he wiped a tear from my jaw and whispered a promise that would change my life forever: ​"Tell me who did this to you, and I will ruin his life by morning." ​I only wanted a place to dry off. I only wanted a little bit of revenge. I never meant to let him back me against the marble counters of his penthouse. I never meant to crave his rough hands, his possessive growls, or the intoxicating danger of his bed. ​If Leo’s family finds out, it will destroy Alexander’s empire. ​But once the Godfather claims you... there is no going back.

As I walked through the dimly lit hallway, my heart was still racing, my breath uneven from the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed me in the last few hours. Then, my eyes flickered up, catching sight of the metal plaque bolted to the doorpost "Wing 1." A cold chill ran down my spine. My body went rigid as Otto’s letter flashed vividly in my mind, the words echoing as if he said it directly to my face "Room 316. Wing 2." No. No. No. No. Oh, God. A sickening wave of realization crashed over me, leaving me breathless. The man in the grey suit… He had smiled, nodded, and gestured me down this hallway. So confident. So sure. And like a fool, I had followed. I had made a mistake. A colossal, irreversible mistake. My stomach twisted violently as the truth settled in, thick and suffocating. I had entered the wrong wing. The wrong room. The wrong bed. I had given myself to a stranger. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, drowning out everything else. The world tilted, my vision blurred. What had I done? How far is too far? In this encapsulating masterpiesce, Sucre is down for whatever gets him closer to taking revenge on Otto - his twin brother's killer. But, would he really do all that is necessary? Would he chose his ambition over that of Luca the cartel’s underboss and his lover? Can he stop the knife and gun violence on campus and win the five million dollars prize money? Dive into a story of love, betrayal, romance and suspense. The Cartel’s Forbidden Love is a gripping and intriguing read that will keep you on the edge of your seat until the very last page.

Vampires, I'd never seen one up close before. That is, until one tried to kill me. But he saved me, the Reaver Raphael. I know I'm only Human, but the more I learn of him, the more intrigued I become. He scares me, much more than I'd ever admit. My instincts scream at me to run. I know he's one of the four brothers who control the Underworld. I know he kills people without warning or trigger. I know the other Supernaturals fear him, and I know what he says goes… period. Yet, I find myself drawn to him, my fear tempered by a morbid curiosity. Being around someone as powerful as Raphael is daunting, yet every time I'm near him, I feel a swarm of butterflies in my stomach. But I'm aware of the danger. I've studied the Reavers, and I know their charm is designed to lure you in. Raphael doesn't even have to try… he exudes an effortless allure that draws me, and everyone else, to him. I know I should run, I want to run. But I'm frozen in place, and the warning signs only seem to heighten the allure. I've danced with danger for too long, but playing with fire has never felt so satisfying. That was, until I woke up in a strange place, surrounded by an unsettling array of supernatural creatures. Reality hit me like a slap in the face. And it's in this moment that I regret ever pursuing the man in the silver suit, who meets me in the diner... I've read enough love stories to know that love could be a fatal flaw, or a mans greatest strength. Could I be his? Or would our love become a fatal collision course from which neither of us would escape?

I sold myself to a masked stranger for one night. My brother is dying. The medical bills are drowning me. So I walked into a private auction wearing black lace and a mask, and I let a stranger buy me. He was cold. Commanding. Twice my age. He called me princess and made me beg for things I had never dared to whisper out loud. For one night, I was not the broke, exhausted twin sitting at a hospital bedside. I was his. Every moan. Every tear. Every orgasm. He gave me the first pleasure of my life and then sent me home with fifty thousand dollars and a bruise on my throat that I could not stop touching. I told myself I would never see him again. Then I walked into my new job. He was standing in the corner office. No mask this time. Just a sharp suit, cold eyes, and a smirk that said he had known exactly who I was all along. Ezra Dane. My brother's former best friend. The man who destroyed my family. He owns the company I just got hired at. He signs my paycheck. He holds the door to his office open every morning and waits for me to walk through it. And last night, he sent me a message. My penthouse. 9 p.m. Wear the collar. I should report him. I should quit. I should run as far from this forty two year old nightmare as humanly possible. But when he looks at me with those dark eyes and says good girl, my legs spread before my brain catches up. He wants to own me. And I am terrified that I want to be owned.

"You called me a spoiled princess who wouldn't last five minutes in the real world." "You hacked my team's group chat and sent my rookie hazing photos to the entire athletic department." Ivy Chen and Nate Callahan have history. Bad history. So when a reality TV show, a brother's scholarship, and one NHL reputation crisis collapses them into the same luxury off-campus house, fake dating, shared bed, live cameras it should be simple. Pretend. Survive. Walk away. Except Ivy already knows something she can't unknow: her anonymous 2 a.m. best friend, the one she's been trading secrets and stupid hockey memes with for months, the one who feels like the safest person she's never met is him. Nate. Her brother's grumpy, broody, insufferable captain. The guy who stress-bakes at midnight after losses. Who has a hidden playlist of cheesy 2000s power ballads. Who looks at her sometimes like she's not a problem to solve anymore. "This isn't real," she reminds herself daily. The staged touches say otherwise. Because somewhere between sharp barbs softening into playful teasing, stolen kisses that linger way past necessary, and quiet unguarded moments the cameras never quite catch the list of reasons she can't stand him stops growing. Then comes the night after overtime, Nate still in his game-day suit, eyes warm in the low kitchen light. "So what happens when the cameras stop rolling?" His thumb brushes her jaw. Soft. Certain. "Who said we're stopping?" One semester. One championship run. One expiration date. Neither of them is counting down anymore.

By the seventh year of my cold war with my father, Don Leonardi Rossi, he finally found a way to win me over. He introduced me to the most powerful Mafia Don in southern Ritalle—Riccardo Colombo. For my happiness, my father was willing to give me half of the family's empire as a gift. I surrendered completely to Riccardo's love. Four months later, I was pregnant. Every prenatal check-up saw Bascily regions' two most influential Dons personally by my side. Everyone envied me for having two men who loved me so fiercely. Yet, on the day of my amniocentesis, they were both absent. "There's a new arms deal in the north," my father said, stroking my head. Riccardo kissed my belly gently. "I'll bring you gifts when I return." I smiled and watched them leave. But as I lay on the examination table, my phone buzzed with an anonymous video. In it, my father wore a groom's suit, standing beside Rosa—the prostitute who had infuriated my mother to death. Their illegitimate daughter, Lina, cradled her swollen belly, proudly wearing the Colombo family crest, and clung to my husband's arm. The announcer cried, "Congratulations to Don Rossi for reclaiming his one true love, and to Don Colombo for marrying his soulmate!" At the video's end, my father laughed and clinked glasses with Riccardo. "The fake crest and fake marriage certificate for Lia—you really outdid yourself. Aren't you worried she'll be heartbroken?" Riccardo snorted. "She never let Rosa into the house, leaving Lina to grow up as a bastard. This was what she owed her." So that was the truth. But when I finally left with my child for the Massimo family, why did they still regret it?