Secret Obsession

by S. Massery

Like he might have some ogre blood in him, if ogres actually exist. This guy makes me think they do.

“Hurts? A bit more than a usual hangover?” He lifts one shoulder. “Or maybe it feels the same as a hangover. I don’t fucking know how date rape drugs work.”

Miles glowers at me. “This is why we don’t take drinks from strange men who want to fucking rape you!” he shouts.

“In what sort of world do we live in that I have to go out and mind all my drinks, and then—and then I get blamed for some douchebag’s decision to put something in my drink?” “...

this is one of the few paragraphs the author was spitting fax even if its a regurgitated tweet

“I wanted to turn it into a lesson.” My mood plummets because I don’t think Willow learned her lesson in the slightest. “So I brought him up here and kept him alive until she woke up this morning.”

She left her freaking phone. What am I supposed to do when she does that? Put a tracker under her skin?

this is foreshadowing btw

He did that to Aspen.

and the mentions to her prior books are why im never reading another one of her works-- I don't trust it WONT be hot garbage

“I want to be able to use this,” I say suddenly. “To control her. Which means I need access to the body.”

“Willow?” Miles answers. Fuck, I like his voice. “Why are you calling me in the middle of the night?” I can’t answer that because I don’t know.

“Why are you outside?” I blurt out. “How about you come find out?”

“Oh, just your run-of-the-mill psycho bitches.”

misogyny is a shitty writers best friend

Suddenly all my pep talks when Greyson was harassing Violet come back to bite me in the ass.

press a button to turn her camera on, but all I get is a shot of her ceiling. Huffing slightly, I focus back on the song. And her voice.

How many times have I watched her toss and turn in my brother’s bed, knowing the consequences of getting caught?

wants to be inside her. Fuck, I could get behind that. But she’s not ready for it, so I turn away and palm my length through my jeans. It doesn’t do much to soothe the ache, and before I know it, I’m fucking fumbling the button and zipper of my pants. I expose myself in her room and jack myself off, cursing my willpower in my head.

Her tongue flicks out, almost licking the pad of my finger. I let out a low grown at the sight, standing stock-still over her. Debating how to play this.

“No, if I wanted to force you to spend time with me, I’d tie you up and keep you in my room like a good little pet.” He leans in, his eyes gleaming. “I’d cut off your clothes and make you kneel at my feet as I did my homework, with a gag in your mouth and your wrists bound behind your back. Maybe I’d put a vibrator in your pussy and watch you squirm and see how far I could push you before you begged for just a little more… pressure.”

embarrassing

He shrugs, sitting straighter and focusing back on his easel. “We can simulate your death if you want, baby. But you’re not leaving this earth one second before me.” I shiver.

this is so corny

“Maybe you should stick to singing,” he says in my ear.

and she doesn't think anything of this, bitch you're stupid

I’ve got all the blockers up on Willow’s phone in preparation for her to try and salvage her Amanda situation. Her laptop is in my hockey bag, which is safe and sound in the locker room.

btw this was literally like never brought up again bc the plot was prob like 100 pages out of 592

“Look at me,” I command, wanting to ride the exhilaration with her. Willow’s gaze tips up to mine.

But I don’t quite have it in me to do anything else nice for her.

“No—” He shakes his head. “Don’t do that.” “Don’t say no to you?” “Exactly.”

He reaches for me too fast, his hand going around my throat. He shoves me against the door, his fingers digging into my skin. I go completely still for a split second, then try the sensible thing—you know, to remove his hand. His grip tightens when I try to yank it away, and suddenly, my vision is speckled black. He’s not blocking my airway—but he is pressing on my pulse points. Everything goes weak—and then fades. My hand slides off his wrist, and my eyes roll back. Out like a light.

A plan forms in my mind. First, a way to claim her. Then, a way to save her.

“This is how it has to be,” he whispers. “It’ll be okay. Promise.” “None of this is⁠—”

He’s out to prove something. To himself, or me. Or maybe he just wants the pain that comes with this moment—when we’re joined but so fucking far apart. My mind is a million miles away.

I dig my nails into my palms, and my skin crawls at this total invasion. Tears burn behind my eyelids. A few leak out, slipping down my temples and into my hair.

He doesn’t let me bury my face in the pillow, as if I could hide and just get this over with.

this isn't noncon its just boring

“This is our initiation. If I didn’t do this, you’d never let me in. But it’s my promise to you.” I don’t understand. “You’re doing it without my consent⁠—” He nips my earlobe. “I own you, wild one.”

Your body knows it’s true. We’ll just have to wait for your mind to catch up.”

You sound so fucking perfect when you’re helpless like this.

Now I’m falling again, but it’s not into love. Or even lust. It’s just misery.

“Get off,” I whisper. My voice cracks. Maybe I’ve been in misery for a while, because when I reach for the feeling, it’s as familiar as breathing. “No.”

he’s clearly not done. It wasn’t enough for me to say no and mean it.

My chest is too tight—all of this is uncomfortable. How much longer until he leaves? The longer we lie in silence, the more nervous I get. “You didn’t wear a condom,” I point out. “I didn’t.” I grit my teeth. I want to get away from him. To bathe in acid.

“This whole thing is violating.”

reading this book is violating

Do I want this? No. Do I want to stop it? No again. That thought breaks me.

this book broke me i never want to read again

the most wicked thrill. Like I’m doing something wrong—well, I am—and right at the same time. My blood sings with harmony.

I want her alone. I want her isolated.

says every abusive boyfriend

Tomorrow, I decide. Tomorrow, I’ll tell her the news: she’s my girlfriend. And the whole school will know by the end of the day. But this doesn’t mean I’m not the worst sort of asshole.

He violates me, I violate his car. Or… something.

you're violating my eyeballs miss ma'am

then, of course, there’s the lingering thought of cleaning up. Of protecting myself against infections. I should pee.

most rational thought

As it is, I’m not nice. And the sound of her throwing up vaguely makes me nauseous, too.

weak

I want to do this, but I also know that Willow will freak out when she discovers it. Aspen and Steele still haven’t had this conversation yet—and I’m crazy enough to want to be around for that show. Back upstairs.

Too late now. I hold the back of her neck, lest she starts squirming or suddenly becomes conscious, and push the inserter into her skin. She lets out a whimper but doesn’t otherwise stir. Not even when I press down on the trigger and the chip finds its new home. Satisfaction rages through me. I pull it out gently, then replace the bandage that’s been hiding Amanda’s nail marks. They’re healing well, though. Another one might escape Willow’s notice, and in a few days, they’ll all be healed enough that she won’t give them another thought. I check my phone again, and her blue dot shows up on the app.

I dunked her head in water and threw her in a freezer. That might be a new low.

But the one constant was him. Did he leave me in the freezer? Yeah. Technically. Do I blame him? Strangely… no. As traumatic as it was, I was also mostly out of my mind. And I can’t find it in me to hate him for it.

In a way, this is like a rebirth. A second chance.

this scene was so pointless and useless

I shake my head. Miles has a blade in his hand, and he stabs at the sheets. There’s already drops of blood on it, vibrant against the white linens.

cringelord