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Fnaf Spring Bonnie Y Springtrap

TËSSÃ ãñd DARÆY

I closed my eyes, shutting out his face, trying to steady myself. But I could feel it—his surprise. The way his lips stilled for a fleeting moment before moving with mine told me he didn't expect this. Not from me. "Well done Tessa. You've outdone yourself" I thought, a quiet victory blooming inside me. And then, as if understanding my message he responded. His lips softened, calling to mine, pulling me in closer. The kiss deepened, growing more passionate, more consuming, as though he'd decided to match the boldness I'd thrown his way. This was real. Too real. I gave myself a warning, a fleeting whisper in the chaos of my mind: this shit is about to get real, girl. But it was too late. The ferocious rush of adrenaline coursing through me had already taken over. Butterflies danced in my stomach, fluttering wildly like they'd been let loose from a cage. I thought butterflies only happened when too people were inlove. So why—why is my body dancing to his tune ? His touch was quick, smooth and practiced. He knew exactly how to hold me, how to make my body respond. I was caught between surprise and satisfaction, entirely swept away. Of course, he knew what he was doing. I didn't expect someone like him to be inexperienced. He carried himself like a man who'd walk this path before. If he wanted to, I had no doubt he could have taken me here and now. The thought sent thrill down my spine,but also a jolt of clarity. I wasn't ready. I couldn't loose my virginity to someone I barely knew —whose name I didn't even know. Still he made me feel so much at once. Too much. I was floating, soaring high above the world while somehow still feeling grounded. I was up in the clouds—cloud six at most, but my body wasn't my own anymore. I couldn't feel it. Couldn't control it. It was as though I traded my sanity for this fleeting, intoxicating moment. I could no longer breathe. Every time I tried to take a breathe, he'd pull me right back into the moment and I'd loose myself all over again. It was overwhelming, intoxicating. What was wrong with him? Why wasn't he stopping? It was as if he wanted more—needed more. Like he was determined to dive deeper into the kiss. To explore every uncharted corner of it. Deeper? " Is there even a way to go deeper than this ? I thought to myself, my mind spinning. He'd gone through every kind of kiss I could imagine —soft, fiery, teasing, demanding. I didn't think there was anything left for him to try. But he didn't stop. I tried to push him away, my hands trembling against his chest. But before I could, he caught my wrist, his grip firm yet gentle, pulling me back into his hold. I couldn't escape. And truthfully? I didn't want to. I liked what I was feeling. No—i loved it. It was raw, Electric, addictive. My body craved it, craved him and I didn't want it to end. I wanted more. More until I couldn't feel anything else. Untill my body didn't know where it began and where it ended. Then like a splash of cold water, the sound of voices broke through my haze. " Hey, don't you think it's enough" I froze, reality crashing in. I had completely forgotten about them —our friends. I'd forgotten about everything: where I was, what I was doing, the fact that we were standing out here in broad daylight. The world around me felt like nothing more than a tool for this moment, as if the sunlight itself was feeding into the darkness we'd created together. It had been just us—only us. And now it was over.
Black_Diamond626 · 4.3K Views

The Last Bloom of Spring

In the year 2025, India stood as an elective monarchy comprised of 563 kingdoms, a nation forged from the fires of the War of Independence in 1857. Yet, the spectre of an ancient threat loomed on the horizon, a menacing force that had once brought the subcontinent to the brink of annihilation. Vikram, a young prince from the revered Zamorin lineage, found himself exiled to the bustling city of Kolkata, banished by his mother for a transgression that remained shrouded in mystery. Stripped of his privileges and forced to live a life of austerity, he sought solace in the sacred precincts of the Kalighat Temple, where the fierce goddess Kali reigned supreme. As the weight of his exile bore down upon him, Vikram's path became intertwined with three remarkable women – a woman whose life he had saved, another he had rescued from the clutches of a depraved trade, and the daughter of the temple's priest, all of whom harboured profound feelings for the fallen prince. Yet, Vikram's true destiny lay not in the pursuit of earthly affections but in the mastery of an ancient art – the path of cultivation. For he was among the most powerful warriors in the land, a prodigy whose potential had barely been tapped. As the three years of his exile drew to a close, he knew that he must advance his cultivation to realms uncharted, unlocking the secrets of energy manipulation and spiritual transcendence. The urgency of his quest was fueled by the looming threat of an ancient enemy – a sorcerer of unimaginable might who had once marshalled a force of 25 million troops and 2.5 lakh ghosts and jins against the very heart of India. This formidable adversary, whose name had been lost to the annals of history, had come perilously close to subjugating the nation, only to be thwarted by the heroic sacrifice of a South Indian prince and six others, who had given their lives to vanquish the invading horde. Among the few survivors of that cataclysmic battle was a messenger, entrusted with a secret message and a mystical ring, both of which he had delivered to the Zamorin lineage before breathing his last. The contents of that message remained a closely guarded secret, but it was whispered that it held the key to unravelling the sorcerer's true identity and the means to defeat him once and for all. As Vikram's exile drew to a close, he found himself at a crossroads – to embrace his destiny as a warrior of unparalleled prowess or to forsake his heritage and live a life of obscurity. The choice was his, but the fate of India, and perhaps the world, hung in the balance. With unwavering resolve, Vikram chose the path of the warrior, immersing himself in the ancient arts of cultivation and unlocking the secrets of mind, body and soul for his country and countrymen. In the climactic confrontation, Vikram stood face-to-face with the sorcerer, a being of immense power who had eluded death for centuries. Drawing upon the full might of his cultivation, Vikram unleashed a torrent of energy that shook the very foundations of reality. In a cataclysmic clash of wills, the sorcerer's ancient magic and Vikram's Cultivation prowess faced off. But little did they know, the understanding of the universal secret is a domain they hardly chartered
Kannanunni_K_S · 5.1K Views

Entre Sombras y Poder

Beatriz, la duquesa de una de las casas más poderosas del reino, vive atrapada en un matrimonio sin amor con Winston, el temido Duque de York. Su esposo, conocido por su crueldad y su capacidad para matar sin titubear, es respetado y temido por todos, incluido el rey. El matrimonio entre ellos fue un acuerdo político, un intercambio de poder entre familias, sin espacio para el amor o el consentimiento de Beatriz. Desde su boda, su vida ha sido una prisión dorada, marcada por la distancia emocional y el constante desprecio. Winston no oculta sus infidelidades, y su relación con Clara, una sirvienta arrogante y descarada, se convierte en una humillación constante para Beatriz. Clara disfruta del favor del duque, se sienta en su regazo, lo acaricia y ríe con él frente a los ojos de Beatriz, sin importarle lo que esta piense. Mientras Winston se regodea en su desprecio, Beatriz observa en silencio, con la furia ardiendo en su interior. Esa noche, durante la cena, Winston lleva su desprecio a un nuevo nivel. En un gran comedor iluminado por candelabros dorados y rodeado de lujos, hace que Clara se siente en su regazo mientras continúa la velada sin ningún pudor. Los sirvientes, testigos del espectáculo de humillación, no se atreven a levantar la mirada. Beatriz, sentada al otro extremo de la mesa, mantiene una apariencia serena, pero su interior hierve con rabia contenida, como un volcán a punto de explotar. Beatriz ha soportado esta farsa durante demasiado tiempo. Aunque Winston la ve como una esposa sumisa y débil, su calma esconde una mente afilada y un espíritu indomable. Mientras Winston se regocija en su crueldad, Beatriz comienza a trazar en silencio un plan. Sabe que la paciencia puede ser una poderosa arma, y aunque todos temen al duque, Winston subestima a la mujer que lleva años ignorando. Pronto, Beatriz aprenderá a jugar su propio juego de poder. La cena, aparentemente rutinaria, podría marcar el principio de un cambio. Esta noche, Beatriz decidirá si sigue siendo un peón en el tablero de Winston, o si finalmente toma el control y se convierte en la jugadora maestra en el gran juego del poder.
Shelvy_Aguiar · 457 Views
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