Hate Obsession Novels & Stories

Brutally. I want to do so much more to her mouth than make it water. Fuck. What is this? This Lust. This Hate. This Contempt. All of it simmering deep. Could it be….? Obsession.

An addiction. She was nothing but an addiction. Yet an intense addiction that has made its way in his blood, coursing through his veins and now there was no turning around. He had reached to the dead end of that addiction that despite wanting, he can't give up on that addiction. Reaching a point that he had accepted he was obsessed with her. That he has fallen into the depth of that obsession. Fallen completely. Insanely. Passionately. Desperately. And lastly, hopelessly.

Now he had to rely on something else to keep the one he loved beside him. Even by force. Even if that meant binding them with a magical contract. Even if that meant placing chains around their neck. Even if that meant locking every door and every window. So tell me, dear reader... If you were the one who had been wronged, would you forgive the one who hurt you... Even if they loved you? Even if they were willing to literally die if you asked them to? Would you accept becoming the victim of their obsession... Their possessiveness... Their twisted love?

It never ends well. Obsession is lethal. It creeps in quietly, wrapping itself around you like comfort, but it suffocates in the end. It erases who you were and replaces it with hunger. If I stay, the person I am will disappear, replaced by someone who longs for a violent man, a sadistic killer. Obsession has never been a good trait, and this one terrifies me more than he ever could. More than what happened earlier tonight. Being locked in that office was horrifying, but this is worse. This feels like addiction, deep and consuming.

Obsession isn’t something you choose. It chooses you. Wraps around your soul like a vice, squeezing until there’s nothing left but the sickness of wanting. It seeps into your blood, replacing logic, making you something… else. Something monstrous. And fuck… I like it the more I watch her.

I want you to come to our final union as my bride. 'Three more days, my love. Three more days until we're united forever.' 'Eternally yours, Damien' I felt sick. The casual way he talked about murder, about stealing my life, about this twisted version of love he'd convinced himself was real—it was beyond disturbing. "He's completely insane," I said quietly. "He's obsessed," Maya corrected. "And obsession can be more dangerous than insanity. Insane people are unpredictable. But obsessed people follow patterns, fixate on specific goals."

Nobody accidentally followed people this closely. "Maybe instead of asking who hates us," I said slowly, "we should be asking who cares enough to spend this much time watching us." The silence that followed felt heavier than anything we'd discussed all afternoon. Adrian's attention shifted toward the photographs again, and something dark moved behind his eyes as he considered the possibility, because that was the terrifying part. Hatred eventually burns itself out, but Obsession doesn't. Suddenly the messages felt different. The photographs felt different. Even the threats felt different. They weren't random attacks from somebody acting on impulse. They were careful. Deliberate. Patient. The

She raised my chin up when she saw I was about to coward in her presence “ And where is the fun in that, huh? Why do you think I was eager to kidnap your kids___?” I gazed into Deborah's eyes, staring deep in the depth of the demon she had become all because of her obsession for Michael. I never knew obsession was real but with Deborah, I could finally understand why it is treated as a mental disease. I shake my head, to rid myself of those thoughts as I raise my lips about to answer her questions when she stopped me from providing the answers herself

I had one purpose, and one goal in my mind right now. A thought that took over me and consumed my being. This woman beneath me must die, right now and in front of everyone. Giovanni was right. I’m a monster, a beast who enjoys hurting people. I relish in the smell of blood and its color drenching me. I love watching the light fade from my victims’ eyes and it makes me shudder with joy. I’m a monster, the same as the man I love.

I couldn’t even explain to myself why I’d done it. I hated Rhea. I spent every waking moment thinking of ways to make her life hell. But the second Camilla’s mouth opened to talk shit about her, something inside me snapped. It was territorial. Primal. An instinct I couldn’t control. I could treat Rhea like trash. I could break her. But nobody else got to say a fucking word about her. The realization hit me like a freight train: I was obsessed. Completely, mind-bendingly fixated on this girl in a way that was messing with my entire existence.