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#robert gray
jinglejails · 3 months
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Robert "Bob" Gray (AKA Pennywise's non-clown form) as a stonky sewer rat. 🐀 My version has red-painted ovals on his cheeks. (●'ᴗ'●) Hope ya’ like him!
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thesightstoshowyou · 11 months
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All Better
Bob Gray x F Reader (NSFW)
Warnings: Noncon, daddy kink, breeding kink, medical terminology, clinic setting, blood, degradation, threats, creampie, stupid medical jokes
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Each day he’s in clinic, you print out the schedule for your physician. The schedule displays each patient he will see for the day, along with the type of appointment and duration.
Usually on the evening prior, you look ahead at the charts to see what the next day will bring, but yesterday’s shift had been hectic; last minute calls to schedule a blood transfusion, a STAT CT, coordinate a hospital admission. You hadn’t been given a chance to peek at the list until this morning.
A mistake.
The schedule sits innocuously on the counter, waiting for the physician, as always. You’re a competent nurse, after all.
Heart hammering in your chest, you stare at the last name on the list. God, of course, the one day you didn’t check ahead he had to show up....
Robert Gray - Physical - 60min
You’re not sure what it is about him. You can never put a finger on it, but there is something so incredibly wrong about Bob. His eyes, his grin, his speech, the way he walks.... Everything about him is wrong, rotten, vile.
You hear the heavy boot falls of Dr. Thompson as he stomps down the hall. Forcing a smile to your face, you stand, listening for any requests or orders he might have before you retrieve the first patient of the day. He scans the list, pausing at Bob’s name.
“What a way to end the day, huh?” he asks with a chuckle. You force a breathy laugh as Dr. Thompson moves away to his office. Swallowing thickly, your eyes close despairingly. Maybe you could go home sick....
It’s a whirlwind day. The third patient had required an ambulance to the hospital. The fifth needed several moles removed, all of which required sutures. An immediate MRI of the head and neck was needed for the sixth patient, a procedure which their insurance did not want to approve. DFA, nurse visit, pap smear, vaccinations, vaccinations, vaccinations. By the time 3:30 PM rolled around, you’d completely forgotten about Bob.
That is, until his name lit up in yellow on your computer screen, indicating he had checked in for his appointment.
Shit.
You glance around you, hoping to pass him off on someone else, but all your coworkers are with their own patients. You’ll have to be the one to room him.
Slowly, you stand and make your way out into the lobby. With each step, apprehension grows. Calm down, it’s just one weird guy, you can handle it.
“Bob?” you call. Immediately, you spot him across the room. His sky blue eyes are already trained on you, full lips curled up in a mischievous grin. They glisten under the fluorescents, like he’s been wetting them over and over.
Leisurely, he unfurls from his chair, standing to his impressive height and strolling across the lobby toward you. He walks with a limp...but maybe not. It’s so hard to tell with this way his gangly legs swing as he steps. Once again, he’s dressed like a man from another century; tweed slacks, suspenders, yellowing button down rolled up at the forearms, muddy dress shoes, hat clutched between spidery fingers.
The hair on the back of your neck stands on end the closer he gets, his eyes never leaving yours. You plaster a strained smile across your face as you greet him.
“How are you, Bob?” you ask, as pleasantly as you can manage, the cracking of your voice giving you away. Hastily, you lead him to the exam room. You hope to get this over with as quickly as you can.
“Well, well, old Mr. Gray has his favorite little nurse here to take care of him, so he’s good as new,” he replies in that strange, lilting voice. You see him leering out of the corner of your eye as you pull up his chart. Politely, you smile back, skin crawling frantically across your body.
“Anything in particular you want to talk to Dr. Thompson about?” you ask as you fill in your preliminary assessment. Bob tilts his head to the side as if he’s thinking.
“You know, there is something, just a little something....” he replies cryptically, his voice a sing song. You frown, look up to meet his baby blues—
Gold?
Heart stuttering in your chest, you blink several times in an effort to clear your vision. Blue, his eyes are blue. You could have sworn they’d been gold a second ago—
“Little girl’s seeing things, wonderin’ if her minds playing tricks, tricks, tricks...” Bob murmurs, his long fingers twitching in his lap. A glob of drool spills past his bottom lip, dribbling down his chin to patter onto tweed.
“W-What...?” you stammer, your breath coming in quick, little gasps, the noisy whoosh of your blood rushing in your ears. You scoot back on your stool, intending to flee the room, maybe even call security, but Bob is faster.
Spidery fingers wrap around your face, covering your mouth and nose and muffling your panicked shriek. You hadn’t even seen him move. Your own hands fly to his wrist, desperately tugging and clawing to get away, but Bob doesn’t budge. He doesn’t even flinch when your nails carve bleeding lines down his forearm.
Your eyes grow wide and horrified when he laughs, his face splitting into a manic grin filled to the brim with too many dripping needle-teeth. Animal panic surges through your veins, dosing your quivering muscles with strength.
You push to your feet, twist, rip your face out of Bob’s iron grip and let loose a piercing scream. That’s it, someone will have heard, they’ll send help—
Bob stands with you, free hand gripping the back of your head. He shoves hard, bending you at the waist and smashing your face onto the exam table. The impact knocks the air from your lungs and you’re left stunned, jarred, mouth gaping uselessly.
Just as your chest expands, function returning to shocked muscles, air mercifully flowing to straining lungs, Bob slams a hand down next to your face. You startle, a pathetic half-cry leaving your lips as exam table paper crinkles and tears.
His hand…. His hand…!
Bob’s hand and fingers have changed, morphed. His skin has darkened, digits elongated, terrible black claws now where fingertips should be. Deep grooves in plastic follow the path of the talons until they’re ripped away, shredded table fabric left in their wake.
There’s pressure against your rear and back as Bob leans over you, slick lips finding your ear, hot breath ruffling your hair. You cough, gag at the scent; rotting meat and melting ice cream all at once.
You whimper, wriggle, thrash, but he has you pinned to the table with his body weight. Teary eyes raise to the exam room door. Any second someone will throw it open and save you….
Noisy cackling in your ear jars you, makes your ears ring. Against your cheek, you feel Bob’s head shake slowly side to side in a ‘No,’ like he can hear what you’re thinking.
“Just you and Bob now, sweet pet. You and Bob Gray. Look!” As he speaks, the door swings open seemingly on its own. Your eyes widen, terror and disbelief turning your blood to ice when all you find is darkness, a void beyond the doorway. There’s no sound, no keyboard taps or phones ringing or vitals machines beeping.
Nothing. No one.
The ‘whowhatwhenwherewhy,’ the impossibility, the utter terror of such an unbelievable situation all muddle together in your racing mind until there’s nothing but buzzing. Your fear-addled synapses can only comprehend one thing: You’re alone. There’s no one coming to help.
There’s no one but you and this Thing behind you.
A gleeful giggle, a tremulous, “Now you see!” renews your panic. But there’s no where to go, no budging under Bob’s unyielding grip on your hair.
He snuffles near your ear, through your sweaty locks, sticky drool smearing across your skin as he sucks in your scent. “Pretty girl, pretty fear. So tasty. And. Wet.” That final consonant is so sharp as it pops off his tongue you wince, feeling it deep in your gut. A short, deep rumble follows his words—a chuckle—and then he’s singing, “Time for your check up, little girl.”
You squeak when that clawed hand brushes your hip, slides down the front of your scrub pants. Feather light, Bob strokes the apex of your thighs, tips of sharpened digits catching on your underwear until you’re shuddering.
Thighs shaking, it takes tremendous willpower not to buck and twist away. You’re terrified he will dig into your most sensitive flesh should you move, so instead you still, fighting the gathering wetness and tempting heat.
Shaky breaths leave your parted lips. One such breath takes the form of a mewl, your stomach dropping in shame at the sound. You grit your teeth, your traitorous tongue determined to loose more with every stroke of clawed fingers.
Bob titters; it’s a pleased, teasing sound. “Shy toy, but Daddy knows, he knows….” As he speaks, his dress shoes wedge themselves between your ankles and push, shoving your legs farther apart.
A squeal tears from your throat when claws twist, grab hold of your clothing, rip and tear until you’re bare from the waist down, tattered scrubs pooling at your feet. Tears welling in your eyes you plead, “No, no, please, don’t—
“Scared of the doctor, little treat? Nooo, noo, gonna make you feel all better. I smell something, something, something that needs examined, hmm?” He ruts his hips against your ass and it is then—face paling, terror suffocating—you notice the hardened length in his trousers.
Bob presses his mouth to your cheek so hard you feel the sharp sting of shark teeth when they dig into your flesh. Voice biting, he asks, “Think it’s that filthy cunt between your legs?” Sobbing, you shake your head, stammered pleas and garbled nonsense spilling from your mouth. All your words are drowned out by Its deafening, maniacal laughter.
Suddenly, your head is released and you hastily shove away from the exam table, only for claws to dig sharply into your back to shove you down again. You cry out, arch away, little pinpoints of blood welling up under each digit and soaking into your scrub top. Behind you, Bob ‘tsks.’
“The snack will stay still unless it wants to see its spine.” Tearfully, you nod, stabbing agony in your back holding you in place.
A snap meets your ears, then another. Bob undoing his suspenders, you realize. Twisting your head, you watch as he rips open the button of his slacks, only to quickly look away again when his thick, pallid cock springs free.
“B-Bob—
You pleadingly choke on his name, but the talons rip free from your back to wrap around your throat. Hard flesh slides between your folds when Bob leans down over you again, chilly spit trickling down your neck as he murmurs, “Daddy. Say it.”
“I-I c-can’t—
“NOW.” Claws tighten, pricking the skin of your throat, more stinging pain.
“D-Daddy!”
“Good girllll.” Bob’s hips surge forward, a strangled scream ripping from your throat as he buries every inch of his girth in your cunt. Bob hums appreciatively when your muscles spasm. They squeeze on nothing as he leisurely pulls back out, only to slam home again.
Every thrust jars you, rocks the exam table under your white-knuckled fists until it squeaks. The claw around your neck keeps your bleeding back arched and pulls you into Bob’s hips as he pops his cock in and out of your leaking hole.
Leaking…. You shouldn’t be, but you are, juices spilling down your thighs and cunt squelching loudly with each vicious thrust. Your mouth betrays you too, each snap of hips met with high-pitched keens that force their way out of your constricted throat.
Bob grunts, pants, mutters directly in your ear, “Sick little meal, needed Daddy’s help, needed treatment, hm? Its meat is flavored now, succulent,” he inhales noisily, drags his tongue through the tears streaming down your cheek, “Ripe with fear. Should Daddy take a bite? Sink his teeth in deep? Sup on the little treat’s horror?” You sob and tremble, head shaking hastily from side to side.
“No? ‘No,’ it says? This filthy little slut wants Daddy to keep fucking it instead! To fill it with seed and breed it until all it knows is how to beg and cum and float, float, float!”
The last word like a trigger, you tense, eyes crossing, world whiting out. Slick insides clench and flutter around hard, heated flesh, desperate to milk every drop of the promised seed. The unbidden orgasm is made even worse when a whimpered, “Daddy…” leaves your tongue.
A patronizing chuckle sounds in your ear, followed by a low, inhuman rumble that sends your heart into a frenzy. Bob’s hips stutter and he snarls, “Take your medicine.” Warmth fills your guts, overflows, spills down your legs and drips onto linoleum.
Gasping, quivering, dazed, you flinch when the clawed hand on your throat moves to your jaw. Thumb stroking your cheek, Bob nudges your temple with his nose. “Perfect toy,” he notes.
Without warning, he stands up straight and pulls away. No body weight to hold you to the table, your knees buckle and you crash to the floor in a puddle of spend and torn clothing.
Bob’s own clothes are righted, pants buttoned, suspenders back in place, scratches healed, hat clutched in two normal hands. No blackened digits, no claws. It’s as though nothing had changed at all.
Had it?
He crouches down before you and, fearfully, you meet his gaze. Blue eyes sparkling, buck-toothed grin stretching across his face, he holds out his hat. Bob’s movements are exaggerated as he reaches dramatically inside, like he’s performing a magic trick.
Slowly, he withdraws his hand. The stick of a lollipop is pinched between a long thumb and forefinger. Cherry flavored. You stare dumbly.
The wrapping crinkles, flutters to the floor as Bob peels it away. “Treat for a treat,” he states and pops it into your mouth.
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alstanfordart · 9 months
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"I Paint With Light"✨
Inspired by Mariusz Lewandowski's "Lightpainting". I'm very happy with how this came out.
The little turtle was a last minute addition.
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snowls-yt · 1 year
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Robert Gray (Human Pennywise) Character Design for my slasher au 😳
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into-crazy · 1 year
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Bob Gray nsfw thoughts
Bob Gray x Female Reader drabble
It's freaky fridayy and I've really been into Bob Gray lately. There's just something I love about that nasty old man, idk. Anyways, I had to get this off my mind. This is short and a tiny bit filthy.
Warnings- mature language, NSFW, SMUT, dry humping, choking, dirty talk, degradation, ages 18+
It had caught you off guard when Bob suddenly threw the door open and rushed at you with that angry look in his eyes. Good thing you weren't holding anything fragile, because it definitely would have slipped from your grasp. He grabbed you but you didn't know whether you should be aroused or afraid. Still completely unaware of the situation, you weren't prepared for what was going to come. You had no time to think, let alone react.
Next thing you know, you're on your back. Bob has you pinned to the ground as he hovers above you, pressing his pelvis against your own. The floor is a little dirty and dusty, you knew you should have cleaned it earlier. Guess it's too late for that now. It's all happening fast, in a hurry. Bob's restraining both of your hands with just one of his large ones. His grip is strong, you wouldn't be able to free your hands if you'd wanted to. Thrusting his hips forward, you feel how hard he is. He wasted no time in removing any clothing, from him or you. You're in your undergarments while he's still fully clothed. With his shoes on and all, he hasn't even bothered to kick them off.
You squirm around as he dry humps you roughly. His clothed, hard cock rubs against your heat, granting your clit some friction. Not enough to cum, but enough to make you moan and whimper. Quickly turning into a writhing, horny mess. Begging him to take you. To give you more. Something, anything more.
Though it's quickly become evident that Bob's focus is on his own pleasure at the moment. He is harsh and relentless as you uses you to take it. Rutting into you like an animal in heat. Breathing heavily against your slick skin, saliva dripping from his open mouth onto you. His other hand greedily gropes your body. Shifting between rubbing your breasts and squeezing your ass. His touches aren't gentle in the slightest.
Hot tears stream down your cheeks. It's torture. Your pussy clenches around nothing as you wish desperately for his fingers, his tongue, or his cock. The emptiness is becoming unbearable, you need to be filled.
"Bob- please, I can't take it! I n-need you!"
Your pitiful cries only spur him on more. His thrusts become harder and faster. Almost angry. His erection ramming repeatedly against your aching cunt. That's how he would be fucking you if there weren't any clothes in the way.
You continue begging him. "Fuck me. Please Bob, it hurts. Fuck me, fuck me!"
Bob's hand immediately wraps around your throat. Squeezing to shut you up because he's had enough of your mouth. Of your whiney complaints. "You're going to lay there and take it. Like the good, obedient whore you are. Hm, you got that?"
A pathetic squeak manages to escape your lips as you nod your head in compliance. Submitting to him without further words of protest.
He lets go of your throat to pat you on the cheek, a cruel smile creeps up his face. "Good, that's a good girl." He pants approvingly. His fingers brush away your tears and his drool. You look an absolute mess and he loves it. His eyes peer down your body. They land on your soaked underwear, his cock twitch at the sight of it. "Look at that, ha- oh you're dripping right through the fabric. Fuuck.."
His index and middle finger glide directly over that spot. Your body writhes in response to his touch. He grabs on to you and pulls you closer, holding you tightly against him. With a final thrust, his hips jerk and he cums hard. His hot, sticky seed making a mess in his trousers. Upon recollecting himself, he decides he wants to punish you because he made a mess of himself. It's your fault that he came all over himself, you are to blame for it.
He stands on his feet while you sit up on your knees. He stretches out the front of his pants to examine the wet spot on the crotch. Now you and him match. It irritates him.
"Oh ho ho, look what you did," he tsks. Grabbing you by the hair and pushing your face into his crotch. "You had me make a mess of myself. Better get to work cleaning me off."
You whine pitifully, rubbing your thighs together. "But I-I, I still need to-"
He cuts you off mid sentence. "Go on now. And if you do a good enough job, maybe I'll consider taking care of that needy cunt of yours."
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rhosmaryyn · 1 year
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i wanted to draw moonica's robert gray au from youtube but might have yassified (drew him way too much like bill skarsgard) him too much i'm so sorry please forgive me;;
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pennywisesupremacy · 1 year
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WHY I JUST NOTICED THAT?
Pettywise The Fucking Forehead Drama Clown puts his hand on his ruffled waffled chest while his voice is trembling on the edge of tears like he's OH SO TRULY OFFENDED 🥺🥺He thought he was SPECIAL and he can't BELIEVE Bill said that..,.,.,.,😞😞 and it HURTS his black venomous heart so much😭😭
all this time I havn't seen the hand and thought he is just mocking
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rabbitcruiser · 1 year
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Robert Gray commands the first expedition to sail into the Columbia River on May 11, 1792.
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violentbright · 2 years
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https://pin.it/3L0zzSK
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supercap2319 · 2 years
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Happy 1st day of Pride!!
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bfvbb · 2 years
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When People Always Ask You Why You Drag Kids Down Sewers, But They Never Ask What’s Truly Dragging YOU down
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x-littlemoth · 2 years
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I often look for character templates for OCs to help me flesh out characters a bit more, and since I've recently become obsessed with the newer IT movies, here's some OC templates for IT OCs.
**Note: I included the links to the original posters of the templates. The Google doc links are basically just a copy-paste version so you don't have to do it from the og links.
**Extra Note: You don't need to use these templates for IT exclusively.
🎈 IT OC Templates 🎈
https://docs.google.com/document/d/10rQ1ysU1IJzKP53ocKYL5jLQ_gnGLidYEzf_BPPzJ54/edit
(Original source: 𝐨𝐜 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 | Wiki | Official IT Amino Amino)
https://docs.google.com/document/d/110Aq0RkCj2O7Lu6DRujgWZRxGNpb8m_GzHc9dM-YKV8/edit
(Original source: OC TEMPLATE | Wiki | IT Movie Lo(V)ers Amino)
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alstanfordart · 9 months
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Still my muse 6 years on, 🎂 Happy Birthday Bill!
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ovnihoje · 2 years
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Astrônomos têm hipótese intrigante para mistério extraterrestre
Astrônomos têm hipótese intrigante para mistério extraterrestre
Quarenta e cinco anos atrás, os radioastrônomos da Ohio State University detectaram um sinal de rádio forte e claro vindo de algum lugar na direção da constelação de Sagitário. Uma digitalização de uma cópia da impressão original do computador. (Ignore o ET ao lado 😉) Ele tinha todos os recursos SETI (Search for ExtraTerrestrial Intelligence/Procura por Inteligência Extraterrestre) que os…
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View On WordPress
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Chapters: 1/? Fandom: IT - Stephen King Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Pennywise (IT)/Reader, Robert "Bob" Gray/Reader Characters: Pennywise (IT), Derry Residents (IT) Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Manipulation, Intimidation, Children of Characters, child death(s), The typical tags that come with a shapeshifting alien clown, Post-Canon, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Additional Warnings Apply, Explicit Language Summary:
Your dearest Granda used to tell you so many horrifying things when you were a child, and yet you still listened to every word he said. You were the only one who would.
Now that you are an adult and he has finally passed, you find yourself in Derry, Maine to fulfill his final wish. You don't know why he wants an empty journal left at a little door that probably doesn't even exist somewhere under the old sewer system, and yet here you find yourself being guided by three young children anyway.
If only you knew what torment your actions would bring down upon you.
So I've been sitting on this for years. This story is going to be a challenge for me, and it's going to be...different.
The Pennywise I'm going for is all of the Pennywises we've encountered so far since the novel was published, and yet none of them. He'll be sort of an amalgamation of all of them, though I chose to go with the Bill Skarsgård Pennywise look after a long debate (not gonna lie, it's my favorite, appearance-wise). I've also put a lot from the book in here, but I'm trying to mix everything together in one palpable hellbeast, so please excuse the slow pace and long length of the first chapter.
Things will hopefully make more sense once the second chapter comes out.
Please bear with me!
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culiehua · 12 days
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tmi verse x onion headlines
part 1 — part 2 — part 3 — part 4 —
part 5 (jem!edition) — part 6
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