
Owned by the Star Quarterback; My Dark Obsession {M*M}
⚠️ Warning: This book contains explicit scenes, strong language, mature content, sexual kinks and dark themes that may not be suitable for some readers. Read at your own risk.
Trevor Matai had already made himself an enemy of half the school just by being the smartest person in the class. So when he won the student body presidency, they just found newer and louder reasons to come for him.
What he was not prepared for was jerking awake from a nightmare in the middle of class, calling out Sean Pierre's name in front of everyone, and having a very visible and undeniable 'boner' to go along with it. Does that mean he got 'bricked up' for Sean.
That was quite unbelievable because Sean Pierre, who is a star quarterback and the school's golden boy, happens to be the most aggressively straight guy Trevor had ever been forced to share oxygen with. So, Sean was the absolute last person his subconscious should have chosen.
And now the whole school knew.
What followed was supposed to be punishment as a result of the two clashing over school activity funds. Instead, something neither of them planned for started building because the closer Sean kept him, the harder it became to pretend that none of it meant anything.
But Sean was the star quarterback and there were rules that came with that title. And wanting Trevor wasn't something the world around them was going to quietly allow.
Two boys with two different dreams that couldn't both survive this situation, which seemed like a rivalry that had already drawn blood and a romantic feeling between them that refused to take note of that.
Society had already written the rules, but they were about to break those rules and rewrite them.
Because when someone is willing to burn everything down for you... the only question left is whether you are brave enough to let them and decide what you are willing to risk for love.
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Chapter 3
Trevor's POV
"Bye, Trevor." One of the students said it on their way out. I didn't even bother to look up to know who exactly that was because it was either Sean or any of his friends in my class, and I already understood it wasn't some sort of pleasantries. It was sarcasm... the kind with a smile behind it that they never bothered to hide.
I kept my head down and let them all file out.
The classroom emptied slowly, the way classrooms do at the end of a school day when everyone has somewhere better to be. Chairs scraping, bags zipping, voices trailing off down the hallway. I stayed exactly where I was and counted the seconds. I had gotten used to doing that...you know, just sitting still and waiting until the room was clear before I moved. It was easier than walking out in the middle of them and giving anyone a reason to start something fresh.
When the last set of footsteps disappeared and the noise finally died down, I let out a slow breath.
"I don't know what is worse." I muttered to myself, staring down at my lap. "Getting a boner in front of the class, or that the most hoo-rah hetero quarterback we've got gave it to me in just a mere dream."
Neither answer was doing anything good for my dignity.
I reached into my bag and pulled out a wipe, then went to work on the stain Max had left on my trousers. It didn't come out clean as the stuff had already settled into the fabric and there was still a faint sticky feeling no matter how many times I went over the same spot. But I got it to a manageable enough state that I could walk out of the building without it being the headline. That was the best I was going to get.
I gathered my things, swung my bag over my shoulder, and pushed the chair in. Detention was still waiting for me somewhere down the hall and I needed to think through exactly how I was going to handle that without it turning into something bigger. The principal didn't need Ms. Presto's version of today reaching her desk before mine did. I was student body president and I had worked too hard and too long to let one bad afternoon become the thing that defined how people in this school saw me.
I crossed the classroom and stepped out into the hallway.
I had taken maybe two steps when a hand shot out from the corner beside the door and grabbed my chest.
"Your ass is mine!"
"What!" It came out loud and sharp before I could catch it, and my whole body locked up on instinct.
Then I saw who it was.
'Sean.' Of course it was Sean.
He had his palm flat against my chest and his eyes were already on mine, steady and deliberate, like he had been standing in that exact spot waiting for me specifically. Before I could get a single word together again, he pressed his other hand over my mouth, cutting off whatever I was about to say. Then he grabbed my bag off my shoulder, pulled me back through the classroom door...with my back going in first and tossed the bag somewhere near the wall. And then, he slammed the door shut behind us.
He let go of me, pushing me slightly in and I staggered back a step, catching myself against the edge of a desk. I straightened up and found my footing but my heart was going faster than I was willing to admit.
"Sean, what exactly are you doing?" I blurted.
He stood right in front of me with his arms loose at his sides, looking like he had all the time in the world. That smirk was already on his face - the one that meant he thought he had something on me and wanted me to know it.
"You thought you could hide it." He said it slowly, like he was enjoying the weight of each word. "But I caught you."
I knew exactly what he was pointing to. There was no version of playing dumb that was going to work here and we both understood that.
I held his gaze and said nothing. My brain was already running through options, pulling apart angles, trying to find the one response that would shut this down cleanly without giving him anything new to work with. Because that was the thing about Sean, which was the moment you handed him a reaction, he ran with it every single time.
The classroom was empty and the door was closed. Again, from the way he was standing, relaxed and unbothered with zero intention of letting me leave here till he was done with whatever this was all about, it was very clear that he was not unlocking that door until he got what he came for.
Honestly, I wasn't ready for this conversation. Not today...at least, not after everything that had already played out in the last few hours. I had survived the boner, survived Max's little stunt, survived detention being handed to me for something I didn't start and now I was standing in an empty classroom after school with the one person I least wanted to be alone with, who was looking at me like he already knew things I hadn't said out loud.
The best I could do was find something solid to stand on before he got there first.
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7.2
Clara's husband of three years walked into their penthouse with two lawyers.
He threw a divorce agreement on the table, demanding she sign away all her assets. If she refused, he would bankrupt her family and send her mother to federal prison.
He did it all for his new girlfriend, Corinne. After stripping Clara of everything, Kane stood by while Corinne publicly humiliated her, stepping on her fingers and mocking her misery. When Kane suspected Clara might be pregnant, he dragged her to a private clinic. He forced her onto an examination table and ordered a deeply invasive medical check-up, treating her like absolute garbage just to ensure she wasn't carrying his heir.
Lying on the cold medical bed in a thin paper gown, Clara's heart completely shattered. She didn't understand how the man who once promised her forever could turn into such a ruthless monster. She was indeed pregnant, but she knew if he found out, he would steal her baby and destroy her completely.
With the help of a tech-genius friend, Clara faked a negative test result and escaped his clutches. The next day, she walked into their company, threw a bold "I QUIT" note right in the mistress's face, and walked away. Touching her belly, Clara swore she would return to make them pay for every single thing they had done.

7.5
WARNING: This book contains mature content, explicit scenes, and dark themes. Reader discretion is advised.
"Maybe... maybe I don't ever want to be anyone's wife again."
Betrayed. Banished. Broken.
For eight years, Selena was the devoted Luna of the Knightstorm Pack, until her alpha husband branded her a whore, stripped her of their children, and cast her out.
Years later, she's risen from the ashes as a renowned artist, fiercely independent and done with men forever. But when her ex-husband discovers the devastating truth, that a cruel scheme made him punish the wrong woman, he will stop at nothing to win her back.
His reckless, alcoholic brother has always wanted her too.
And then there's the powerful alpha trapped in a loveless open marriage, willing to burn down his twenty-year union the moment he scents his second-chance mate in Selena.
Three alphas.
One woman who swore she would never belong to anyone again.
As old wounds resurface and new desires ignite, Selena must fight not only for her stolen children, but for the heart she thought was dead.
Who will claim the broken Luna... and will she ever let any of them in?

9.2
After six brutal months, I returned to my Seattle villa, my sanctuary. An unsettling quiet, then a cloying mix of cheap vanilla and baby talc hit me. Pink slippers, a cookbook, and a blonde hair on Nathan's hoodie screamed betrayal.
Unwashed baby bottles and a note from "M" to "feed the baby" confirmed my dread. A baby's cry led me to Misty, holding a baby with Nathan's exact curls. She claimed Nathan called me his "bankrupt ex-wife," my clothes gone, wedding photos crumpled, and his loving text proved his calculated fraud.
Nathan burst in, spewing gaslighting lies, despite finding a deed transfer for *my* house. His blame—that I was a "cold work machine"—only solidified my resolve. My husband used my money, home, and trust to build a new life, systematically trying to erase me. He didn't just cheat; he tried to steal everything. A venture capitalist doesn't just walk away from a hostile takeover.

9.5
One night, I was a girl seeking vengeance in a velvet mask. He was the stranger who took me against a cold stone wall, his touch a silent, lethal promise.
Now, he is Caspian Blackwood-the most feared architecture professor at Aethelgard. When my "perfect" boyfriend, Dominic Calloway, cheats on me and sabotages my degree, Caspian offers a lifeline with a razor-thin edge: Be his silent, nude model for thirty days.
The rules are absolute. I must wear a silk mask and a weighted collar. I must never speak. I must hold the poses he demands until my muscles scream for mercy. In the lecture hall, he ignores me with arctic indifference. In the studio, his gaze is a physical weight, stripping me faster than his hands ever could. But as the charcoal scratches against the paper, I realize the "deal" isn't just for art. It's for the soul I accidentally gave him in the dark. Will the deal destroy his career, or consume me first?

7.4
I was Z, the world's most lethal hacker. But after I died, I woke up gasping for air in a massive, freezing bathtub.
Memories that didn't belong to me slammed into my brain. I was trapped in the body of Zero Vance, a notorious "trashy young master" of a wealthy family, who was actually a girl hiding in plain sight.
The original owner of this body was a pathetic, lovesick stalker obsessed with an esports god named Maverick Thorne.
She wore ridiculous rainbow hair and cheap makeup, sending him thousands of desperate, unread texts every single day.
When he completely ignored her, she became the ultimate laughingstock.
Bullies at her elite academy spray-painted "freak" on her locker, shoved her around, and her own family looked at her with exhausted disappointment.
Unable to take the endless humiliation and his cold rejection, she swallowed a bottle of pills and slipped into the icy water.
Looking at the ruined, tear-stained reflection in the mirror, physiological disgust washed over me.
Why would anyone throw their life away for an arrogant, frozen block of ice?
I grabbed the grooming scissors and sheared off the neon hair until only a sharp, silver-blonde crop remained.
I deleted his contact, blocked his number, and put on a perfectly tailored black suit.
When the school's head cheerleader pointed a finger at my nose, warning me to stay away from Maverick, I snapped it backward.
"I have zero interest in Maverick Thorne."
I am alive. And as the new Zero, I am going to take everything back.

9.8
Erica Murphy had spent three years rotting in a freezing prison cell.
She thought she was serving time for a tragic accident, but the truth was much darker. Her husband, Colten, had framed her for his mistress's drunk hit-and-run, stolen her fortune, and left her to take the fall.
The day Erica was finally released, a speeding car intentionally slammed into her, shattering her spine. As she lay dying on the emergency room table, flatlining on the monitor, Colten and his pregnant mistress didn't come to save her. Instead, they tossed a stack of divorce papers onto her bloody hospital blanket. They wanted her to sign away her last remaining shares and take on thirty million dollars of toxic corporate debt.
"Sign it," Colten demanded coldly, looking at her crushed body with utter disgust. "Consider this the last bit of dignity I'm giving you."
The original Erica died right there, suffocating in despair and betrayal, unable to understand how the man she loved could be so monstrous.
But when the flatline on the monitor suddenly spiked and her eyes snapped open, the traumatized victim was gone.
Replaced by the cold, calculating consciousness of a future special ops commander. With microscopic nanobots rapidly fusing her shattered bones together, Erica picked up the pen, preparing to burn Colten's entire empire to ashes.