
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 6
Trevor's POV
My instinct had no choice but to work real quick.
I scanned the room in about two seconds flat and moved. The lockers along the far wall were arranged in a staggered layout, some pushed forward, some set back, leaving a narrow gap between two of the taller ones that was just wide enough for a person to press into if they weren't thinking too hard about comfort. I slipped in sideways, flattened my back against the wall, and pulled myself as far into the gap as I could go.
I made it just in time.
The door swung open and the noise of them filled the room immediately; which includes cleats on the floor, their bags dropping. It was all the kind of easy loud energy that a group of people carried when they owned whatever space they walked into. I held my breath and stayed completely still right there.
"The gay kid has got a crush on Trevor." That was Max's voice, as I didn't need to see his face to know. He had a specific pitch he used when he was running with something and thought it was funnier than it actually was.
Then, there was a beat of silence.
"Guys, let's just focus on the game for now, okay?" Sean's voice came flat and unbothered.
I almost laughed. You know, if I didn't know better, I would have taken that as Sean trying to defend me or something. But I did know better for a fact that; when it came to Sean and his passion for football, everything else got filed under 'deal with it later' including me, including Max's running commentary, including anything that wasn't directly related to the match they had in approximately - I checked the time in my head - less than ten minutes.
'Obsessed' was probably the word for it. But that was his thing to worry about, not mine.
What I was worried about was the paint. Specifically, the four colours of paint currently soaked into every single one of their match uniforms sitting in that basket not twelve feet from where I was hiding. You know, I had been so focused on getting in and getting out that I hadn't fully thought through the part where they would walk in directly after.
My heart was doing things that were medically concerning.
I pressed further into the gap and watched the narrow slice of the room I could see from the angle I was at. A few of them crossed into view, dropping their bags onto benches, and opening lockers. It was just the normal routine though. And then one of them got close to the basket.
The pause that followed wasn't normal and I noticed that at once.
It was the specific kind of pause that happened when someone's brain was processing something their eyes weren't ready to confirm yet. It all felt short, sharp, and then at the same time, very loud.
I think my heart skipped up to five hundred beats in that space of time. And trust me, that was no exaggeration or anything close to that.
*****
Sean's POV
We got back to the changing room to suit up for tonight's game and Max was already running his mouth about Trevor before we even got through the door. I let it go in one ear and kept moving. What we needed right now was focus. It was the first game of the season, and I needed every person in this room locked in and not distracted by whatever Trevor Matai had or hadn't done in AP Literature this morning.
I crossed to the basket where the uniforms were kept and stopped.
I stood there for a second and just looked at it.
All I could see was yellow, red, purple and blue colors, all over every single jersey in that basket like someone had gone at them with full cans of poster colors and zero hesitation. I could bet this wasn't accidental and there was nothing accidental about this. Whoever did it had come in here deliberately, with multiple colours, and taken their time to get this done.
I didn't say anything immediately, besides there was absolutely nothing to say as I was really thinking of what to do because as the captain, this was indeed my responsibility to sort this out.
I just looked and right there, something caught my eye on top of one of the jerseys, though it was small. Sitting right there in plain sight like it had been dropped without the person realising. It was a keychain and so, I picked it up and then turned it over in my hand. My brain made the connection before I had even fully processed what I was looking at - I had seen that keychain on Trevor's school bag, earlier today. In the classroom, when I had grabbed it off him and tossed it to the side of the classroom.
It must have come off then and landed in his bag, and then fallen out here when he...
I closed my fingers around it.
"Oh! What the hell?" Max's voice cut through the room as he reached into the basket and lifted one of the jerseys up by the shoulder, holding it out like some evidence. The rest of the team gathered around the basket and the noise level went from normal to loud in about three seconds.
I slipped the keychain into my back pocket before anyone looked my way.
"Someone sabotaged our uniform!" Max said it like he was announcing a national emergency.
"What do we do now?" Josh's head snapped toward me. "Kickoff is in 5 minutes."
I looked at the jersey in Max's hand, then at the basket, then back at the rest of them standing around waiting for me to either panic or fix it. But then, neither was going to happen.
"Guys." I reached in and picked up one of the jerseys, holding it up and turning it. "It's just paint." I kept my voice level and even. The way I kept it on the field when a play broke down and I needed everyone to stop spiralling and start moving. "Quit being a pussy and suit up." I handed the jersey across to Josh, who took it with the expression of someone who had more to say and knew better than to say it right now.
The room went still. All of them just stood there looking at me like I had suggested we play the game in our socks.
"Suit up! Let's go!" I said it louder this time, already moving toward my own locker. "The game is in five minutes and we need to head out right away."
That got them moving. Although not happily, but moving. The grumbling was background noise at this point but then, I had already mentally moved past the uniforms and was back on the game where my head needed to be. We grabbed our kits and split off to change and I did the same, pulling the jersey over my head and not thinking too hard about the blue streak running across the left side of it.
Abruptly, my mind went into thinking about the keychain in my back pocket.
I pressed my fingers against it once through the fabric, just to confirm it was still there.
Trevor had been in here. That wasn't a theory, but that was a fact I was now holding in my hand. He had come into our changing room before the first game of our season and gone at our uniforms with paint cans because of what had happened in that classroom. I guess, probably because I had cornered and pushed him with regards to the budget. And so I think this was his version of pushing back.
I almost wanted to respect it. I mean, almost.
But letting the team know what I had figured out wasn't going to do anything useful. Max would turn it into a whole thing before we even got to the field, and the last thing I needed was the team going into their first game of the season distracted and riled up about Trevor Matai when they should be thinking about their plays.
So the keychain stayed in my pocket and the team didn't need to know about it yet.
Trevor, on the other hand, had something coming. I just hadn't decided what shape it was going to take yet.
I would figure that out later after the match and he would regret in his lifetime ever having to think about this.
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8.6
I was the youngest Paladin in history, the absolute pride of the Azure Blade.
But after a disastrous mission in the snow, I was falsely accused of slaughtering my own squad.
Grand Master Bernardo Rowe didn't just exile me; he surgically severed my connection to the magic Aether, turning me into a crippled mortal.
Desperate to survive, I tried to climb the Holy Stairs to reclaim my legendary sword, "Rebellion."
Instead of answering my call, my own blade shrieked in absolute rejection and blasted me down the thousand stone steps.
My bones snapped like dry twigs, and I was left in a pool of my own blood.
The pilgrims laughed at me. The guards declared me a lost cause and left me to rot in the dirt.
I should have died there, betrayed by the Order and the holy magic I once served.
But a silent, massive laborer named Cato Sims dragged my mangled body into the shadows.
He healed my shattered skeleton in mere days with impossible skill, yet he allowed lowly servants to spit on him and beat him just to keep my presence hidden.
I didn't understand why my holy sword had abandoned me, and I understood even less why this stranger was protecting a condemned criminal.
When I finally snapped and demanded to know his price for saving my life, he didn't ask for money or my body.
"The mountain does not forget its debts. I am reclaiming what was taken from it."
Staring into his unyielding eyes, I realized my exile wasn't the end, but the beginning of a terrifying truth.

8.5
"Bride by day, prey by night."
When Raven Dierna's forced to pose as a bride for Caravia's feral wolf prince, Eilís. He thinks it's a death sentence. But Raven's caught in a brewing storm between humans and werewolves with Eilís's dark half, lurking in the shadows. As Raven navigates the treacherous royal court, hiding his true sex and avoiding deadly secrets, he finds himself entangled in Eilís's struggle. Raven's survival hinges on his wits and the forbidden pull between them.
Eilís Caravia, a werewolf prince, grapples with the beast within, torn between duty and desire as family pressures mount and Caravia's stability hangs by a thread. Forced to wed a human, Eilís finds himself entangled in a web of forbidden attraction and deadly secrets. As alliances shift and loyalties are tested, Eilís must confront his dark half, and make a choice that could save or shatter his kingdom and his heart.

9.7
Eighteen months ago, the man I loved shattered my heart, claiming everything between us was a mistake. Now, he's back, a ghost of his former self, a rookie tryout in my pro esports team. And I will make him regret crawling back.
Clifton, captain of a legendary esports team, was secretly battling a severe wrist injury that threatened his career, every match a fight against his own body. He pushed through the pain, ignoring doctors' warnings, desperate to maintain his god-like status.
His world was already on the edge, but nothing prepared him for seeing Justice Terry again in the team basement. Justice, pale and trembling, his eyes wide with naked terror, was now a rookie tryout.
Clifton had spent a year and a half trying to forget that rainy Chicago alley, the raw revulsion in Justice's eyes, the whispered "it wasn't real" that had left him heartbroken. Justice had vanished, and Clifton had erased every trace. Now, the boy who once looked at him like he was the sun was back, flinching at his touch, displaying a deep, primal fear. Amidst sponsor pressure and whispers of being "washed," Clifton saw Justice's return as a chance for vengeance. He publicly humiliated Justice on a live stream, forcing him into a suicide mission, then coldly benched him.
Yet, the satisfaction never came. Instead, a hollow emptiness and a torrent of questions: What had truly happened in the past? Why was Justice here, and what trauma had carved such fear into his bones?
Clifton, unwilling to be fooled again, swore to uncover every secret and every lie. He would force Justice to explain why he had returned, even if it meant tearing down everything they both had left.

7.3
Lukas Reiner built his life based off a promise 9 years ago with Viktor Volkov... the only person who actually saw him and knew him for what he actually was. They dreamed of the same future, the same ice, the same victory together. Until Viktor disappeared without a word, leaving Lukas behind with nothing but silence, rain... and feelings he never got to confess.
Now, Lukas is at the top of college... Captain, prodigy and untouchable on ice until Viktor comes back.
Colder and older, acting like the past never existed.
Their reunion explodes into violence, but being forced to work together drags them into something far more dangerous than hate.
The tension turns into stolen moments and those moments turn into a habit but before either of them can stop it, the line between resentment and desire begins to blur.
Lukas never let go of the past.
Viktor never planned to face it.
But on the ice, there's nowhere left to run.

7.2
SYNOPSIS:
"I spent ten years scrubbing your floors, Greene. Tonight, you'll scrub mine."
Elara Vance has always been the pride the Republic until she ran away from home, fell in love with Greene Jones, a man who treated her like dirt and discarded her like she was never the girl the entire Republic feared because of her strong dominating pheromones.
Now she's back after twelve years to serve revenge to Greene Jones like a hot dish in a way that he will pay for every act meted out on her for twelve years. But things wasn't going to go as planned as she meets Silas, the handsome bulky head of her father's security but a recessive omega of her past that she has totally forgotten but now wears a new stance as her bodyguard, recognized by the entire republic as an Alpha, and her perfect chosen mate, Calvin; ruining the comeback and revenge she planned out for herself and now she has to think about saving and claiming her mate, Silas while navigating and protecting the seat meant for her.
The real question becomes; will Calvin ever allow her take all it took him twelve years to build?
THEME: The true definition of power. Is it found in the biological dominance of an Alpha, or in the resilience of an Omega who survived in the lion's den?

8.2
Karmen lived suffocating under a tight chest binder and a grotesque silicone scar, forced to disguise herself as her degenerate twin brother, Kem. Her only job was to maintain a fake corporate engagement with the ruthless billionaire Earl Calderon.
But her abusive father suddenly escalated his demands. He ordered her to steal Earl's revolutionary AI patents, threatening to cut off her mother's life-saving medical trust and abandon the real Kem in a locked Swiss psych ward if she failed.
The task was a death sentence. Earl absolutely despised "Kem." He treated her like a repulsive parasite, constantly threatening to break her neck. When he accidentally caught her without her wig, he mistook her for a deranged cross-dresser, forcing her to glue the dirty fake scar back onto her raw, inflamed face in sheer disgust. At home, her father hurled glass ashtrays at her, violently yanking her collar.
"Do whatever you have to do in that bedroom, Kem. I don't care how disgusting it is. Just get the signature."
Trapped between a fiancé who loathed her very existence and a father ready to sacrifice their family for greed, Karmen endured the agonizing physical pain of her disguise. She was exhausted, terrified, and running out of time as her brother's life hung by a thread.
But they all underestimated her. When the Calderon matriarch forced Earl to link his ultra-secure private phone with "Kem" to fake their romance, she unwittingly handed over the master key. Karmen wasn't just a helpless victim; she was the elite hacker Nyx, and she was going to tear their empire apart from the inside.