Bob X Opheebop Novels & Stories

It was possession. She sat, trembling inwardly, but his touch anchored her. More than that, it branded her. She was painfully aware of the way the others glanced at her, their eyes narrowing, their mouths twitching with smirks they didn’t dare let fully form. Adrian’s silence was enough to keep them all in line. The man at the opposite end of the table cleared his throat. He was older, stockier, with a face that had been carved into hard lines by time and cruelty. “Maddox,” he said, voice gravelly. “We’ve come to discuss terms.”

"You renovated it? Damien Voss, CEO and destroyer of corporate empires, learned carpentry from YouTube?" "Turns out physical labor is good therapy." A small smile. "Dr. Morrison suggested I find something that forced me to be present. Something where I couldn't control the outcome, just respond to what each day required. Swinging a hammer at three AM when I couldn't sleep seemed healthier than my usual coping mechanisms." I study him over the rim of my cup. "What were your usual coping mechanisms?" "Work. Whiskey. Convincing myself I was fine when I was absolutely not fine." He meets my eyes. "Sound familiar?"

Omniscient POV “Ah, man... I’m beat.” Joseph tossed his backpack onto the living room sofa, the thud echoing in the quiet house. He unknotted his tie with a weary sigh, the exhaustion of the first day of senior year written across his face. “Damn. Since when did school get so boring? I wasn't expecting senior year to be this dry,” he added, collapsing into the cushions. Trish followed him in, a faint smirk playing on her lips. “That’s because your mindset has changed, Joseph. You’re no longer trying to get wild to maintain your status. You’re no longer trying to be the ‘King of Mthland High.’”

𝗦𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗮'𝘀 𝗣𝗢𝗩 The cold breeze brushed against my skin as I stood on the rooftop of the office building, a steaming cup of coffee in my hand. The city stretched out before me, its lights twinkling like tiny stars against the dimming sky. But my gaze wasn’t really on the view; it was distant, unfocused, as my mind replayed the heated confrontation with Sophia and Saniya.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the country. Dylan puts his phone back in his pocket and breathes in deeply. He wonders if he sounded tough enough to threaten the man he was talking to. "Dylan, are you okay? You look like you're going to pass out. You're so pale!" Bryce, his college best friend, and also the senior bartender of the Bartender's Shack which is Dylan's own bar.

I said, my voice sharp. “Keep telling yourself that and you might start to believe it.” His voice dropped, calm and deliberate. “You begged me to touch you. And when I did, you cried out for more. I’m not asking for much. Just one more time, and every picture, every video disappears.” My stomach turned. I nearly gagged at the thought of it. There was no way in hell, no fucking way. “You still don’t believe me?” He smiled like he had already won. “You have a birthmark on your left side. Don’t you?” My heart stopped immediately.