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transform4u · 3 months

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Success comes with a Price

Andy’s journey into the digital cosmos began with a fascination for pixels and a love affair with pop divas. His YouTube channel, a kaleidoscope of colorful thumbnails and clickbaity titles, became his virtual playground where creativity knew no bounds. Whether he was unboxing the latest gaming console with theatrical flair or choreographing a new TikTok dance routine that could rival any K-pop star, Andy’s videos were a testament to his infectious energy and unapologetic zest for life.

In his studio – a snug corner of his apartment adorned with LED lights and posters of Lady Gaga's most iconic moments – Andy scripted his online persona. His audience adored his playful banter and irreverent humor, which seamlessly blended with his genuine passion for queer advocacy and social justice.

Behind the scenes, Andy was a meticulous curator of content. His mornings were often spent scouring the web for Gaga news and fashion trends, transforming his findings into engaging narratives that captivated his Little Monsters community. Each video was a carefully crafted homage, where Andy dissected Gaga’s every artistic choice with the precision of a critic and the adoration of a devoted fan.

As the digital sun set on another day in Andy’s universe, he prepared for his next adventure. With a wink and a click of the upload button, he invited the world to join him – not just as viewers, but as co-conspirators in a journey where pixels and pop divas intersected with laughter, love, and the occasional dose of internet-induced chaos.

As Andy scrolled through his inbox, a subject line caught his eye: "Unlock the Ultimate Viral Video Strategy!" Intrigued, he clicked on the email. The message promised insider tips and a surefire method to skyrocket his views to unprecedented heights, but with a cryptic warning: "There will be a price."

Skeptical yet enticed by the possibility of fame and fortune, Andy hesitated. Could this be his big break? He weighed the risks and benefits before shrugging, thinking, "What harm could it do?"

With a decisive click, he followed the link provided. Instantly, his computer screen flickered, and a strange, pulsating virus icon appeared. Lines of code scrolled rapidly, overwhelming the display with neon colors and glitched patterns. Andy's heart raced as he reached for the power button, trying to shut down the system. But it was too late.

The screen went black, and Andy cursed under his breath. Anxiety crept over him as he restarted the computer, hoping against hope that he hadn't just compromised his entire setup.

Minutes later, the familiar desktop greeted him, but something felt off. Before he could fully process the relief, a notification pinged on his phone – a message on Instagram from @ CaliDude34 "That tan is looking great Andy, been spending time in the sun?" it read.

Confusion knitted Andy's brow. He hadn't been outside all day, let alone under the sun. As he puzzled over the message, a peculiar warmth enveloped him. It started as a gentle sensation, but soon intensified, spreading like a slow-burning ember through his limbs. His mind felt foggy, thoughts muddled.

Panic set in as Andy realized something was terribly wrong. He staggered to the bathroom mirror, his reflection revealing a subtle bronzed glow on his usually fair skin. "No... no, this can't be happening," he muttered, touching his cheek in disbelief.

Just then, a wave of lethargy washed over him, dulling his senses and clouding his thoughts. The warmth persisted, almost comforting now, but Andy knew it wasn't natural. His fingers trembled as he reached for his phone again, the screen lighting up with another message, this time from an unfamiliar handle: "You wanted views, Andy. We delivered."

Fear gripped Andy's chest as he realized the price he had unknowingly paid. The virus had infiltrated not just his computer, but seemingly his very body, altering him in ways he couldn't comprehend. His once-sharp mind felt slower, his once-pure skin now tinged with an unnatural hue.

Andy sat at his desk, still reeling from the strange messages and the unsettling transformation that had begun moments ago. As he tried to make sense of it all, a notification popped up on his screen. It was a direct message on Twitter from @Brospeh69.

"Damn, dude. Those gains are looking sick," the message read.

Confusion mixed with disbelief as Andy read the words. He glanced down at himself, half-expecting to see the familiar figure he had always known, but instead, he noticed a subtle tightness in his clothes. It was as if his body was subtly shifting, muscles awakening from a slumber he didn't know they had.

The first sensation was warmth, spreading from his core like a gentle wildfire. It felt comforting at first, a subtle embrace that soon intensified into a pulsating surge of energy. Andy's heart pounded in his chest as he lifted his shirt, revealing a midsection that had transformed before his eyes. What once was a soft, nondescript stomach now boasted defined, chiseled abs, each muscle etched with a clarity that seemed unreal.

His hands trembled as he tentatively touched the firm ridges of muscle, marveling at the solidity beneath his fingertips. The rush of power coursing through him was undeniable, exhilarating yet tinged with a creeping sense of uncertainty.

As he continued to watch, mesmerized, Andy's biceps began to swell, expanding beyond their previous limits. They bulged out, initially the size of baseballs and then growing larger, resembling small softballs. Panic threatened to overtake him as his arms involuntarily flexed, veins pulsing beneath skin that stretched to accommodate the burgeoning muscle mass.

But fear quickly gave way to a surge of confidence. A cocky grin spread across Andy's face as his pecs followed suit, thrusting forward with newfound definition and strength. His shirt strained against the expanding contours of his chest, a testament to the physical transformation unfolding before his eyes. Without thinking, Andy began to flex his pecs, performing a playful dance that showcased his newfound power and control.

Andy felt his quads and calves swell with unprecedented mass, the fabric of his jeans protesting as muscles expanded with every movement. He flexed his legs, reveling in the sensation of strength surging through them, every fiber alive with newfound vitality.

In the reflection of the computer screen, Andy saw a version of himself that seemed larger than life – a figure of raw power and sculpted perfection. Each flex, each movement of his transformed physique, was met with a rush of euphoria that bordered on intoxicating.

Yet, amidst the thrill, a nagging doubt lingered in Andy's mind. What had triggered this astonishing change? The mysterious messages, the inexplicable physical enhancements – they raised more questions than answers. But for now, Andy couldn't resist the allure of his newfound strength. He leaned into the sensation, embracing the rush of becoming something more than he had ever imagined possible, even as uncertainty gnawed at the edges of his exhilaration.

As Andy basked in the surreal glow of his transformed physique, a notification interrupted his reverie. It was another message on Instagram, this time from @HNYGRL6789. He read the words, a furrow forming on his newly defined brow.

"Like, you can totally tell he's a douchebag from that cocky, dumb face and look at what he wears."

Andy's initial reaction was confusion. He furrowed his brow deeper, trying to comprehend the sudden shift in tone. But as he did, a strange sensation gripped his mind – a dense fog that seemed to seep into his thoughts, clouding his once-sharp intellect.

He blinked, feeling disoriented as his college degree, once a source of pride and accomplishment, slipped further from his grasp. Concepts that had been second nature now eluded him, and simple arithmetic felt like a distant memory. Andy struggled to add two and two together, his mental faculties sluggish and unresponsive.

Meanwhile, his reflection in the computer screen began to change. What had been a face characterized by boyish charm and a touch of quirky charisma now morphed before his eyes. His features took on a more rugged, masculine appearance, as if sculpted by some unseen force into the archetype of a fratbro douchebag.

Andy's nose widened, his lips thickened, and his eyebrows grew denser, framing eyes that seemed to glint with a newfound aggression. A beard sprouted across his jawline, thick and unkempt, completing the transformation from clean-cut to ruggedly unkempt.

Even his attire underwent a bizarre metamorphosis. The trendy, fashion-forward clothes he had worn moments ago now shifted into gaudy, garish garments more suited to a frat house party. A loud, oversized T-shirt adorned with neon graphics stretched across his broadened chest, while flashy, designer sneakers adorned his feet. A gaudy gold cross hung prominently around his neck, a stark contrast to the subtle accessories he had once preferred.

Andy's mind reeled as he struggled to reconcile these physical and mental changes. The fog in his brain seemed to deepen, dulling his thoughts and replacing his once-articulate speech with a more brash, simplistic vernacular. His movements became more assertive, his gestures broader and more exaggerated, mirroring the confidence of his newfound persona.

Deep down, a flicker of awareness fought against the fog. Andy sensed that something was terribly wrong, that this transformation was not of his own making. But the allure of this altered state, coupled with the intoxicating rush of power it brought, threatened to override his growing unease.

As he stood there, grappling with the conflicting sensations of euphoria and confusion, Andy wondered how far this bizarre journey would take him. What had begun as a quest for viral fame and physical prowess had spiraled into a surreal odyssey, where every click and message seemed to lead him further down a path he couldn't fully comprehend.

As the gaudy gold cross hung heavily around his neck, Andy watched in a trance-like state as his follower count on Instagram began to climb steadily. Each new notification sent a thrill through his altered mind, a rush of validation that overshadowed the growing ache in his head. The fog thickened, clouding his thoughts further, as if a veil was descending over his memories and beliefs.

Liberal views that had once defined Andy's online presence began to fade like distant echoes. He struggled to recall the passionate discussions on social justice, the advocacy for equality, and the fervent admiration for Lady Gaga. Instead, his mind buzzed with unfamiliar tunes – hip hop beats and twangy country melodies that etched themselves into his consciousness with surprising clarity.

A comment on his latest YouTube video caught his attention, posted by @JesusBroFitness: "Love to get my fitness tips from a God-loving manly man like A." The words hit Andy like a truck, resonating in ways he couldn't fully comprehend. His gaze shifted to his reflection, now bearing the visage of a man transformed not just physically but ideologically.

The memory of Lady Gaga's songs slipped away, replaced by mental images of gym routines and workout regimens. Protein drinks and fitness gear dominated his thoughts, as if they had always been there, waiting to take center stage. Above all else, a newfound devotion to faith crept into his consciousness, shaping his beliefs and actions with a certainty that felt foreign yet oddly comforting.

Andy's mind wandered, memories shifting like sand in an hourglass. He recalled a childhood in a deeply conservative, entitled household where money and privilege oozed from every corner. The echoes of parental expectations and societal norms resonated within him, shaping his worldview into something more traditional, more conforming to expectations that had once seemed distant and irrelevant.

In his altered state, Andy found himself embracing this new identity with a mix of confusion and acceptance. The allure of likes and followers blurred the lines between authenticity and performance, nudging him further down a path that promised validation and recognition. The ache in his head dulled as he leaned into the role, crafting a persona that resonated with his growing audience – a blend of physical prowess, traditional values, and a devout reverence for God.

As he navigated this strange new reality, Andy couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental had shifted within him. His liberal past seemed like a distant dream, replaced by a present that glittered with social media success and the intoxicating rush of conformity. Whether it was for the likes or a genuine transformation, Andy couldn't say for certain. But as his follower count soared and his online persona solidified, one thing became clear – he was no longer the person he once knew, and the journey he had embarked upon was far from over.

The Snapchat notification from @StaceyGirl69 popped up, "I can't wait to see you tonight, stud ; I'm going to ride my Italian stallion A---A----Anthony---Tony. Can't wait to see that 10 inch cock of yours tonight" on Tony's phone, and a smirk spread across his newly transformed face. As he read the message, everything clicked into place with startling clarity. Tony – formerly Andy – was no longer the quirky, liberal-minded YouTuber and Gaga fan. He was now a straight-up douchebag, reveling in his newfound identity as a fitness guru and conservative influencer. Stacey was just some bimbo bitch he had been hooking up on the side between Amy, Samantha and Kelsey.

As Tony's thoughts turned to Stacey and Amy, his cock began to stir within his pants. He couldn't help but imagine the two women together, their voluptuous bodies pressed against each other as they eagerly awaited his arrival. The image of Stacey's large breasts and Amy's perfect ass filled his mind, causing a surge of blood to rush towards his groin.

His cock grew thick and hard under the influence of these erotic thoughts. It strained against the fabric of his pants, demanding release as he continued working out at the gym. Tony found himself flexing not just for show but also for pleasure; every time he moved a muscle or clenched a fist, it sent waves of pleasure through him that only served to intensify the growing erection in his pants.

Tony's mind, once clouded with confusion and doubt, now brimmed with self-assured confidence. He glanced around his lavish apartment, the walls adorned with gym posters and religious iconography. His social media accounts, from TikTok to Twitter, were a testament to his ego – a million followers hanging on his every word, idolizing him as the epitome of physical perfection and traditional values.

With a cocky swagger, Tony aged back to his prime at 25. His once-boyish charm had given way to a rugged, chiseled appearance that exuded arrogance. His face, now angular and defined, bore the unmistakable stamp of entitlement. His eyes sparkled with a mix of vanity and pride as he flicked on his camera, the screen reflecting his transformed physique.

Tony stood before the camera, shirtless and unapologetically narcissistic. He ran his hands over his sculpted chest, each movement a deliberate display of muscle and power. His biceps bulged as he flexed, veins popping with every movement. A smirk played on his lips as he angled his body to highlight every ridge and contour, reveling in the attention and admiration he knew would flood his social media feeds.

"Hey, fam," Tony's voice oozed with a blend of confidence and arrogance, "Today's workout was killer. Just smashed those gains, you know? Stay tuned for more fitness tips and life advice from your boy, Tony."

He turned to the side, showcasing his profile with a self-satisfied grin. His newly grown beard added to the rugged charm he now embraced fully. The camera captured his transformation from every angle, emphasizing his toned abs and powerful physique.

As Tony continued to flex and pose, a sense of fulfillment washed over him. This was who he was now – a poster boy for fitness, conservative values, and unabashed self-promotion. The likes and comments would pour in, validating his existence and feeding his insatiable ego.

Social media had become Tony's kingdom, where he reigned as a self-made influencer and icon. His Instagram and TikTok accounts boasted millions of followers who hung on his every word and admired his lifestyle. Comments lavished praise on his physique, his style, and his apparent success, feeding his ego and reinforcing his belief in his own superiority.

But beneath the veneer of confidence and bravado, Tony's personality had become shallow and self-centered. He had little patience for dissent or criticism, dismissing opposing viewpoints with a condescending smirk or a dismissive wave of his hand. Empathy and humility had been replaced by a sense of entitlement and a craving for validation, driving him to constantly seek attention and admiration from his online audience.

Tony stood in front of the camera, flexing his muscles and admiring his reflection. His body was a testament to years of hard work at the gym, dedication to a strict diet, and an unwavering belief in himself. As he posed for the camera on his phone, capturing every angle of his massive biceps and chiseled abs, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride swell within him.

"Big Tony," he said aloud with a smirk as he struck another pose, "fucking aces. fucking king of the fucking world." He snapped another photo before checking his social media notifications yet again. There were hundreds more comments praising him for being an inspiration or asking for advice on how they could achieve similar results. It was all too easy to get lost in this world where everyone seemed to be cheering him on and validating everything he did.

"Keep those likes coming," Tony muttered under his breath as he scrolled through endless streams of compliments and admiration from strangers across the globe. He knew deep down that there was more to life than just being famous or having big muscles but sometimes it felt like that was all anyone cared about anymore.

In the background, Tony's room slowly began to show signs of neglect as he became more consumed by his online presence. Beer cans littered the floor around him, their contents long since gone flat or warm depending on how long they had been sitting there. Posters featuring scantily clad women with large breasts hung on every available surface while sports posters adorned others - remnants from a time when Tony actually cared about something other than himself.

The air in the room reeked of musk, sweat, beer and sex; an intoxicating mix that seemed both familiar yet foreign at once. It was as if these smells were emanating directly from within Tony himself – a testament not only to his physical prowess but also hinting at deeper desires left unfulfilled beneath all those layers of bravado and ego.

#gay to straight #male tf #transformation #douchebag tf

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ask-the-prose · 1 year

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Do Your Research

This phrase is regularly thrown around writeblr and for good reason. It's important to research what you are writing about to know what to include, what can be fudged, and how to depict whatever you're writing. I see "do your research" most thrown around by well-meaning and highly traditionally educated writers. It's solid advice, after all!

But how do you research?

For those writers who don't already have the research skills necessary to write something comfortably already downloaded into your brain, I put this guide together for you.

Where do I even start?

It's a daunting task, research. But the best place to start is with the most basic, stupidest question you can think of. I'm going to talk about something that I already know a lot about: fighting.

When researching fight scenes, a great way to start is to look up what different weapons are. There are tons out there! So ask the stupid questions. What is a sword? What is a gun? How heavy are they?

Google and Wikipedia can help you a lot with these basic-level questions. They aren't great sources for academic articles, but remember, this is fiction. It doesn't need to be perfect, and it doesn't need to be 100% accurate if you don't want it to be. But knowing what is true to life will help you write well. Just like knowing the rules of writing will help you break them.

You may find in your basic research sweep that you have a lot more specific questions. Write them all down. It doesn't matter if they seem obvious. Write them down because they will be useful later.

How To Use Wikipedia Correctly

Wikipedia is a testament to cooperative human knowledge. It's also easy to edit by anonymous users, which means there is a lot of room for inaccuracies and misleading information. Wikipedia is usually pretty good about flagging when a source is needed or when misleading language is obvious, but Wikipedia itself isn't always the most accurate or in-depth source.

Wikipedia is, however, an excellent collection of sources. When I'm researching a subject that I know nothing about, say Norse mythology, a good starting point is the Wikipedia page for Odin. You'll get a little background on Odin's name and Germanic roots, a little backstory on some of the stories, where they appear, and how they are told.

When you read one of the sentences, and it sparks a new question, write the question down, and then click on the superscript number. This will take you directly to the linked source for the stated fact. Click through to that source. Now you have the source where the claim was made. This source may not be a primary source, but a secondary source can still lead you to new discoveries and details that will help you.

By "source-hopping," you can find your way across the internet to different pieces of information more reliably. This information may repeat itself, but you will also find new sources and new avenues of information that can be just as useful.

You mean I don't need a library?

Use your library. Libraries in many parts of the US are free to join, and they have a wealth of information that can be easily downloaded online or accessed via hardcopy books.

You don't, however, need to read every source in the library for any given topic, and you certainly don't need to read the whole book. Academic books are different from fiction. Often their chapters are divided by topic and concept and not by chronological events like a history textbook.

For example, one of my favorite academic books about legislative policy and how policy is passed in the US, by John Kingdon, discusses multiple concepts. These concepts build off one another, but ultimately if you want to know about one specific concept, you can skip to that chapter. This is common in sociological academic books as well.

Going off of my Norse Mythology example in the last section, a book detailing the Norse deities and the stories connected to them will include chapters on each member of the major pantheon. But if I only care about Odin, I can focus on just the chapters about Odin.

Academic Articles and How To Read Them

I know you all know how to read. But learning how to read academic articles and books is a skill unto itself. It's one I didn't quite fully grasp until grad school. Learn to skim. When looking at articles published in journals that include original research, they tend to follow a set structure, and the order in which you read them is not obvious. At all.

Start with the abstract. This is a summary of the paper that will include, in about half a page to a page, the research question, hypothesis, methods/analysis, and conclusions. This abstract will help you determine if the answer to your question is even in this article. Are they asking the right question?

Next, read the research question and hypothesis. The hypothesis will include details about the theory and why the researcher thinks what they think. The literature review will go into much more depth about theories, what other people have done and said, and how that ties into the research of the present article. You don't need to read that just yet.

Skim the methods and analysis section. Look at every data table and graph included and try to find patterns yourself. You don't need to read every word of this section, especially if you don't understand a lot of the words and jargon used. Some key points to consider are: qualitative vs. quantitative data, sample size, confounding factors, and results.

(Some definitions for those of you who are unfamiliar with these terms. Qualitative data is data that cannot be quantified into a number. These are usually stories and anecdotes. Quantitative data is data that can be transferred into a numerical representation. You can't graph qualitative data (directly), but you can graph quantitative data. Sample size is the number of people or things counted (n when used in academic articles). Your sample size can indicate how generalizable your conclusions are. So pay attention. Did the author interview 300 subjects? Or 30? There will be a difference. A confounding factor is a factor that may affect the working theory. An example of a theory would be "increasing LGBTQ resources in a neighborhood would decrease LGBTQ hate crimes in that area." A confounding factor would be "increased reporting of hate crimes in the area." The theory, including the confounding factor, would look like "increasing LGBTQ resources in a neighborhood would increase the reporting of hate crimes in the area, which increases the number of hate crimes measured in that area." The confounding factor changes the outcome because it is a factor not considered in the original theory. When looking at research, see if you can think of anything that may change the theory based on how that factor interacts with the broader concept. Finally, the results are different from the conclusions. The results tell you what the methods spit out. Analysis tells you what the results say, and conclusions tell you what generalizations can be made based on the analysis.)

Next, read the conclusion section. This section will tell you what general conclusions can be made from the information found in the paper. This will tell you what the author found in their research.

Finally, once you've done all that, go back to the literature review section. You don't have to read it necessarily, but reading it will give you an idea of what is in each sourced paper. Take note of the authors and papers sourced in the literature review and repeat the process on those papers. You will get a wide variety of expert opinions on whatever concept or niche you're researching.

Starting to notice a pattern?

My research methods may not necessarily work for everybody, but they are pretty standard practice. You may notice that throughout this guide, I've told you to "source-hop" or follow the sources cited in whatever source you find first. This is incredibly important. You need to know who people are citing when they make claims.

This guide focused on secondary sources for most of the guide. Primary sources are slightly different. Primary sources require understanding the person who created the source, who they were, and their motivations. You also may need to do a little digging into what certain words or phrases meant at the time it was written based on what you are researching. The Prose Edda, for example, is a telling of the Norse mythology stories written by an Icelandic historian in the 13th century. If you do not speak the language spoken in Iceland in 1232, you probably won't be able to read anything close to the original document. In fact, the document was lost for about 300 years. Now there are translations, and those translations are as close to the primary source you can get on Norse Mythology. But even then, you are reading through several veils of translation. Take these things into account when analyzing primary documents.

Research Takes Practice

You won't get everything you need to know immediately. And researching subjects you have no background knowledge of can be daunting, confusing, and frustrating. It takes practice. I learned how to research through higher formal education. But you don't need a degree to write, so why should you need a degree to collect information? I genuinely hope this guide helps others peel away some of the confusion and frustration so they can collect knowledge as voraciously as I do.

– Indy

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asunsetgrace16 · 1 month

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Johnny Gaudreau: A Tribute

Johnny Gaudreau was born in Salem, New Jersey.

He was drafted by the Calgary Flames 104th overall in the 4th round of the 2011 NHL Entry Draft. He played hockey for Boston College for 3 seasons, from 2011-2014. He won the National Chapionship title in 2011, and the Hobey Baker Memorial Award as college hockey's best player in 2014.

Johnny spent 9 seasons with the Calgary Flames and 2 with the Columbus Blue Jackets. During his first full season with Calgary, he was selected to go to the 2015 All Star Game and was a Calder Memorial Trophy, and won the Lady Byng Memorial Trophy as the NHL's most gentlemanly player in 2017. He was a 7-time NHL All Star through his career. Johnny was known as "Johnny Hockey" and had incredible skill and success on the ice, despite his size. He played for the Columbus Blue Jackets for the past two seasons and quickly became a favourite.

This is a tribute to our beloved player, may Johnny and Matthew forever rest in peace.

For Johnny...

from me

I am forever going to be sad over losing Johnny, but I am also angry. Two amazing people would still be here if that driver simply decided not to get behind the wheel yesterday night. I wasn't a hockey fan when he was still playing for the Flames, but he was one of four players I knew. He always made me smile when he was shown on camera, and his memory will live on forever in Calgary. His positivity and kindness, his electric game. Johnny was so much more than a hockey player. He was a husband, a father. A son, a brother, a friend, a teammate. My heart and prayers go to his wife and children, parents, sisters, and family. And please, please, take time to grieve. Take time to remember Johnny and what he meant to you, and to the game. Rest in peace, Johnny Hockey, fly high.

I believe that it is a testament to a person's character that when tragedy strikes, there are hundreds or thousands of people mourning for them, regardless of whether they knew each other or not. That is what Johnny has done for the hockey community. His infectious excitement and passion has moved people in ways he probably never imagined. We may never hear Johnny Hockey echo through an arena in celebration of a goal, but we will hear it in celebration of his life, of his game. We will keep his legacy alive. Forever.

Here's to #13

from @chukys-mouthguard

Johnny was never mentioned on my blog prior to this news. And while I know I don’t need to explain or justify my sudden sadness, I’d just like to reiterate this point above. We don’t have to post about someone or obsess over them online to love them. Johnny was never a player I would’ve written fanfiction about or shared unhinged thoughts. I’d loved him and admired him from my time playing hockey, and he was unlike anyone else. I frequently explained that compared to all the other players I love or “obsess” over, Johnny is in a league of his own. The sheer love and admiration I had for what an amazing hockey player, but an even more amazing person he was is something I can’t put into words. Rarely do athletes or celebrities have an impact on me, but Johnny did. The idea that I won’t get to see him take the ice again in Nationwide Arena, I don’t get to hear commentators call him Johnny Hockey anymore, and most importantly the fact that this heartbreaking tragedy is undoubtedly sending shockwaves through a family that was looking forward to a weekend of celebration of love and togetherness at their sister’s wedding. It all hurts. And there are no words right now. I want to blink my eyes and have someone tell me I’m dreaming. My own mother called me on my way to work to tell me the news because she didn’t want me to find out through social media, that’s the impact this man had on me and I’m sure so many fans across the hockey community. My sister even reached out to make sure I was okay. So yeah, people can say “they are just an athlete” or “why are you so upset over someone you don’t know?” And I respect people having those opinions, but when players truly make a mark on the sport and the fans, it resonates with you. Because you feel like you know them, like they invite you into their world and give you a chance to look at them in new ways. My thoughts are with the entire hockey community that knew johnny, and most importantly his family as they endure this terrible loss of Johnny and Matthew 💔

johnny gaudreau has been my favorite nhl player since his college days, and I have no words right now. I have multiple jerseys of his, signed memorabilia, but I sadly never got to meet him and tell him how much i loved him as a person and a player. My love for him, if you know me offline, s was unmatched compared to any other player I obsess over online. This world is so cruel and I’m heartbroken. I’m so thankful to have seen him play on multiple occasions, but blue jackets games will not be the same without his #13 on the ice 💔😞

from @perfectlysaltycat32

I just want to say the passing of Johnny and Matty Gaudreau is such a sad and unfortunate moment. Every time I looked through social media and saw more snippets of what happened and how he is remembered it just gets so much more sadder. It's really tragic how this happened *the day before* their sisters wedding. A time where the whole family is sharing one of their happiest moments, and now it's going to be a time of grief. I think it is absolutely gorgeous how all the Calgary fans came together in memory of them with their memorial. They are truly loved everywhere in the hockey community. I hope that every player has access to good therapy and counseling because this is such a rough way to start the season, but I am glad with how positive all of their friends, family, and teammates are. It really just once again shows how loved both of them are. They had a great life, were amazing people, and it deserved to be longer. But now they can watch over their families, teammates, and friends. I'm sending my condolences to everyone affected. Johnny was an amazing father, husband, son, brother, friend, captain, and teammate. He is and always will be Johnny Hockey. Matty was also an amazing husband, son, brother, teammate, and friend. It is deeply saddening that his wife has to raise her expecting baby without him. I hope everything goes smoothly as they can for her, and she and the baby can be healthy. Everyone loves you both, Johnny and Matthew Gaudreau. You will be loved and missed. 🕊️❤️

from @wehaveagathering

When I first got into hockey I heard about a guy named "johnny hockey" and I thought that this was like, a legend — someone like Gretzky or Lemieux, who had been so good that he'd had the game incorporated into his name forever. Imagine my surprise when I learned that this dude was just Johnny Gaudreau, not just a legend but an active one too, one still playing. I thought that was really cool. I figured he must have done something really special to earn that nickname. Turns out it wasn't just what he did — it was who he was. Rest easy, Johnny Hockey. You built a legacy that will live for a long time.

from @traiteursroe

I want to take a moment to talk about Johnny and Matty Gaudreau today. Absolute icons. “Johnny Hockey” has been a name that has been recognizable in sport since 2014. He was a gentleman and a fast fucking skater. His brother Matty was smart and talented. The fact that they’ve been taken away from their families by a drunk driver is heartbreaking and inexcusable. Spare a thought and a prayer for them today.

from @crow-the-unknown

just saw the news about johnny gaudreau and his brother's death and i'm honestly at a loss for words. my heart aches for his family and all the friends he's made throughout his career. i can't even put into words how horrible and devastating this is for everyone in the hockey community. sending my prayers their way. i'm fucking wrecked about this. if i could say more i would but. i don't even know. it doesn't even feel real.

from @callsign-denmark

Rest in Peace Johnny and Matthew Gaudreau. This was a horrible and tragic loss to the hockey community but more importantly a tragedy to your families. My prayers go out to them all. The hockey community has woken up today to the tragic knew of the passing of Johnny and Matthew Gaudreau who were killed last night while riding their bikes in their hometown by a drunk driver who was speeding while trying to pass other vehicles who were going slow to pass the brothers safely. Both brothers were hit from behind, and died due to their injuries. They were in their home town for their sister Katie's wedding which was set to take place today. Johnny and Matthew were not just hockey players, but brothers, sons, husbands, fathers, uncles and friends to many people who are now without their loved ones on a day that was supposed to be filled with joy and love. Please let all of us in the hockey community, as fans, to take a moment of silence no matter what team you cheer for, and send out a silent prayer to the family who will no longer get to hold Johnny and Matthew in their arms, who will no longer get to watch them grow old playing the game they loved, and to the children growing up without a father and uncle to guide them throughout life and love them. While we feel sorrow and sadness over this lose, it's nothing compared to their families who will have to live this life without them.

from @19mercer

all of the insta story posts from many hockey players, teams, and other sport leagues for johnny and matthew gaudreau make me cry. all of the support for their families is genuinely so sweet. i wish nothing but the best for their families during this hard time. i will forever be grateful that i was able to watch him play in the nationwide arena. i am forever grateful for johnny and his time as a blue jacket. and his time with us. thank you for everything 13. rest easy johnny and matthew.

from @bibliomoth

I adored Johnny because he was a such a small streak of lightning in a game full of huge dudes who were regularly a whole foot taller than him. His skills were just fucking phenomenal and he was so exciting to watch. I screamed with joy and cheered him on so loudly I lost my voice on many occasions. He represented his country for International Competitions and is the highest US point scorer. I could get technical and talk about my favourite goals of his, his stickhandling, dangles, on ice spatial awareness etc but it is all on film for anyone to see, just too much to choose from. Nobody moved like Johnny Hockey. As a person he was a sweet, kind guy who was universally liked in the sport and beyond. I do not follow celebrities on social media, but on hockey forums there are endless stories of his voracious love of mac and cheese (so much so Kraft put him in a TV ad) and skittles candies that he had a hockey stick covered in them and auctioned for charity. In interviews he always talked hockey and his family. Whenever asked about new contracts and paycheques he would just shrug and say ‘yeah I bought my dad a boat so we can go fishing’ or ‘I just got a cool new wheelchair lift installed in my holiday home so my cousin can come and spend time with me’, or change the subject and talk about his dog, his wife and kids or The Birds. He was a real gem of a gentleman, modest and always ready to give credit to his team and dad (legendary NJ coach Guy Gaudreau) who motivated Johnny to skate as a toddler by placing skittles candies on the ice for him to fetch. I’m am so sad for him, his family. This is just a blurb of feels about someone I counted down the days for until I could see them make magic on ice. I wish I could write a good tribute, dammit. Thank you Johnny Hockey.

from @blusical

Johnny was more than a hockey player. He was a friend, father, son, brother, whatever you say. And please, don't forget about Matthew too. In fact, don't forget about any of the Gaudreau family, they're struggling too.

from @slavet0thegrind

Man, the news about Johnny Gaudreau's passing has shaken this entire city. I've never cried over the death of an athlete before. Until today. He may have been traded, but everyone in Calgary loved that man so much. The fact that right now the steps of our arena are covered in purple Gatorade and flowers on honor of him says so much. I have also heard that people are flocking to what we refer to as "the Red Mile" tonight to honor him, which is a street downtown that turns into one big party whenever the Flames play a game during playoffs. Everyone pours out of the arena and heads down there to celebrate, or watches the game at bars on that street if they're not at the game. Johnny reignited the Flames when they were starting to burn out, he led that team for so long. We didn't call him Johnny Hockey for no reason. And for him and his brother to be tragically killed the day before their sister's wedding by a fucking drunk driver... It's unbelievably heartbreaking. Rest in Peace Johnny and Matthew Gaudreau 💔😭

from @areyoutherelarry

There are not any words to express how deeply sad and awful it is to hear about the killing of the Gaudreau brothers. They seemed like wonderful humans who positively impacted those around them. They had families who were clearly ripped through by this horrific tragedy. There are wives who will have to raise kiddos without their partners, and kiddos who won't have their dads around. Parents who outlived their kids. A sister who didn't get married. It's bleak shit. There's also a team that has faced so much tragedy. Boone Jenner has had to support the team through two tragic deaths (and faced his own personal loss this year), anyone who was around when Matiss Kivlenieks died, and Sean Monahan who was so excited to be reunited with Gaudreau. This is just heavy shit.

from @brb-counting-stars

today is such a hard day, but take inspiration from johnny to live life by being the kindest and generous person you can. take inspiration from the way he didn’t know if he would be able to make it into the show and pushed on anyways. take inspiration from the kind of brother he was. take inspiration from all the stories of what he would do for fans he spent mere moments with but those memories stayed with them for years, the philanthropic work he would do all throughout his career. take inspiration from the guy that grinned as brad marchand yapped at him from the opposite penalty box and then went on to score a hat trick, the teammate that was so beloved he inspired his buddy to sign with a team so that they could play together again. take inspiration from the nine-year-old kid that earned the nickname “love machine”, the twenty-seven-year-old man who finished his bachelor’s degree nine years later because he made a promise to his mom. and of course, you can’t forget the stories of him taping pucks to himself for weighing in at the combine, or writing a paper in college on how to make a ham and cheese sandwich, or how he would wipe red sauce off his meatballs, or how he got sick from mainlining nutella to gain weight for the season, or how he tried to cash his first paycheck at a random bar atm, or how he wore yeezys to ride a horse at the calgary stampede. live life to the fullest and remember johnny’s kindheartedness, humility, and positivity. his presence and spirit will really be missed throughout the hockey community.

from @hufflepuffhabs

Ever since seeing the devastating news yesterday afternoon while at work, I've been thinking of what the right words are in a situation as hopeless as this. There is no return button, no undo. In Memory of Johnny and Matthew Gaudreau Ever since seeing the devastating news yesterday afternoon while at work, I've been thinking of what the right words are in a situation as hopeless as this. There is no return button, no undo. A family, a community left with empty spots. All the circumstances make it only sadder and more tragic. There are no right words, but there are tokens of hope, showing up and lighting a candle in memory and remembrance for not only two incredible hockey players but humans. When I was a little tween hockey fan, I really liked the Calgary Flames. Mostly because they drafted a Swiss guy 1st round, but they had many other young prospects, Johnny being probably the brightest. But as for many, it was his character that impressed me most, a Skittle loving child-at-heart guy that left it all on the ice. I will always remember how disappointed he was when they did not all him to do a stunt with a burning stick at the All-Star Game. May Johnny and Matthew rest in peace. And may we think of their family and of all families that have lost loved ones in this tragic way.

from @tattoed-and-toothless

Fly high and rest easy Johnny and Matthew 🕊 You left behind a lot of amazing memories to be remembered by. The hockey world is rallying around your family, they'll be well taken care of ♥️

from @sportspuckball

I've driven that road. Fuck that driver for literally ever. May Matthew and Johnny's memories forever be a blessing to all who loved them, knew them, and were impacted by them. So many of us knew Johnny, but I'm also thinking a lot about the high school kiddos that Matthew coached. Every aching moment of this fucking sucks. Don't let anyone tell you that grieving someone you don't know personally is stupid -- grief is grief and it is yours. Do what you need to process it as you see fit. The only thing any of us *need* to do is respect the family's privacy as they grieve, too.

from the Columbus Blue Jackets

The Columbus Blue Jackets are shocked and devastated by this unimaginable tragedy. Johnny was not only a great hockey player, but more significantly a loving husband, father, son, brother and friend. We extend our heartfelt sympathies to his wife, Meredith, his children, Noa and Johnny, his parents, their family and friends on the sudden loss of Johnny and Matthew. Johnny played the game with great joy which was felt by everyone that saw him on the ice. He brought a genuine love for hockey with him everywhere he played from Boston College to the Calgary Flames to Team USA to the Blue Jackets. He thrilled fans in a way only Johnny Hockey could. The impact he had on our organization and our sport was profound, but pales in comparison to the indelible impression he made on everyone who knew him. Johnny embraced our community when he arrived two years ago, and Columbus welcomed him with open arms. We will miss him terribly and do everything that we can to support his family and each other through this tragedy. At this time, we ask for prayers for the Gaudreau family and that their privacy be respected as they grieve.

from the Calgary Flames

It is with great sadness, we mourn the tragic deaths of our friend Johnny Gaudreau and his brother Matthew Gaudreau. Our hearts are broken by this devastating loss. Johnny was and always will be a member of the Flames family and loved by all of Calgary. It was our privilege to call Johnny our teammate for nine amazing years in Calgary. He came to Calgary as a young man and grew up here, not only as a superstar on the ice, but also a beloved member of our community. The pain we feel for Johnny's wife Meredith, children No and Johnny, parents Jane and Guy, sisters Kristen and Katie, and the entire Gaudreau family is immense. Ownership, management, players, and staff of the Calgary Flames express our heartfelt spates during their time of sorrow. You are in our thoughts and prayers ❤️

from Brad Treliving

I am absolutely devastated by the news of Johnny Gaudreau and his brother Matthew's passing. John was truly a special player, dazzling on the ice with his incredible talent, but what made him truly special was the person he was off the ice. His thousand-watt smiles and infectious personality were matched only by his love for his family, friends, and those close to him. He brought joy to everyone around him and to the many who never knew him but marvelled at his excellence on the ice. John was a beloved teammate and a friend to so many in the hockey community, and he will be deeply missed by all of us who had the privilege of knowing him. My heart goes out to the entire Gaudreau family - to his mom and dad, Jane and Guy; his sisters, Kristen and Kate; his loving wife, Meredith; his precious children, Noa and Johnny; and everyone affected by his unimaginable loss. Family was everything to John, and in his memory, please hug those close to you tighter and longer today and every day.

from Gary Bettman

(paraphrased)...While Johnny's infections spirit for the game and show-stopping skills on the ice earned him the nickname "Johnny Hockey", he was more than just a dazzling hockey player; he was a doting father and beloved husband, son, brother, and teammate who endears himself to every person fortunate enough to have crossed his path... ...He will be remembered fondly in Calgary, where he played his first nine seasons with the Flames form 2013-14 to 2021-22, emerging as one of our League's brightest young stars while compiling the franchise's fits-highest career points total. His loss also will be felt profoundly in Columbus, the city in which he chose to settle his family and where he was one of the respected, veteran leaders of a club building toward the playoffs. And both Johnny and Matthew will be mourned at Boston College, where they were teammates the year Johnny won the Honey Baker Award in 2013-14, and at Gloucester Catholic High School in New Jersey, where both played and where Matthew was the head coach following his own five-year pro playing career. We send our most heartfelt condolences to his wife Meredith; their children, Noa and Johnny; his parents, Guy and Jane; and sisters Kristen and Katie. And we grieve alongside his teammates, members of the Columbus and Calgary organizations, his many friends hockey and countless fans around the world for whom he created incredible memories on and off the ice.

from Pascal Vincent

I want to extend my deepest condolences to the family of Johnny and Matthew Gaudreau. This tragedy has left me speechless and in shock. Over the years, I had the privilege of getting to know the real Johnny Gaudreau - the person behind the hockey player. He was a humble and unassuming young man with extraordinary talent, who never sought to be in the spotlight. Instead, he enjoyed life's simple pleasures and possessed a quiet strength of character. His passion for the game and exceptional hockey sense allowed him to achieve greatness, yet he remained grounded and true to himself. I had the pleasure of meeting his wonderful family, including his wife, children, and parents. My thoughts are with them today. It's an honor to have known not only the incredible hockey player but also the kind and beloved person Johnny was to everyone he met. Wherever we went, people admired him on and off the ice. Despite his success, he remained humble and genuine. Johnny, you toughed so many lives with your kindness and contagious smile. I feel fortunate to have known you so closely. Your memory will stay with me forever. Rest in peace Johnny.

from @love-youu-softly

When I first got into hockey, I was feeling really lost. The flames were one of the first teams I became a fan of, and so many nights were spent alone in my room at 20 years old watching the flames and Johnny hockey. Will forever be important to me.

from @primakira

johnny gaudreau was the first player i ever learned about when i was trying to get into hockey. he was a spitfire on the ice and an even greater person off of it. i'll probably write something longer later since i can't even type this through my tears, but for now, thank you so much for everything, johnny. 💙 rest in peace to his brother matthew as well. such an unimaginable tragedy. my heart goes out to the entire gaudreau family and to everyone that loved them.

out of all the players i like in the nhl, johnny has a special place in my heart because he was the first player i ever knew. he's the reason i got into the sport during the pandemic. even before connor mcdavid or sidney crosby, there was johnny hockey. as soon as i saw his small stature and big smile, i was hooked. his smile was infectious, his hands were amazing, his skating was mesmerizing (his lil strides were so cute too), and his heart was all-encompassing. every night, you couldn't believe the things he could do. he was a spitfire on the ice - constantly underestimated but tenacious as hell. furthermore, he was kind, humble, funny, and down to earth. there's a reason everyone loved him. hell, his team would wage a war for him (matty tkachuk i'm looking at your penalties during that stars series). off the ice, he was a family man through and through. he loved his family so fucking much and he loved his community so much. all he wanted was the perfect place to call home for his kids and he found it. johnny encapsulated the joy of hockey, and he took that joy with him today. my heart goes out to everyone who loved him and matthew, especially their family and friends. the world lost two bright stars in a heartbreaking and senseless tragedy. thanks for everything, johnny. may you and matthew rest in peace. 🕊

from @bedsyandco

so shocked and saddened by the news of johnny and matthew gaudreau’s passing. this is such horrible news and I can’t even fathom the grief and loss that everyone who knew them is feeling right now. I truly hope that their family and friends have the utmost support and love right now. sending love and prayers to everyone affected by this loss 🩷

from @soffsh

Truthfully what is there to say, I knew getting on here would be so utterly painful. Seeing all these black and white pictures of Johnny and Matthew doesn’t seem real. The world has lost an incredible hockey player, father, husband and person in Johnny Gaudreau. I was hoping and praying last night that we wouldn’t be making these posts today, but we weren’t that fortunate. My deepest and sincerest condolences to the family and friends of Johnny and Matthew Gaudreau. As well as the whole fan base of not only the Columbus Blue Jackets but the Calgary Flames who have lost a friend and a family member. Johnny and Matthew you will be missed so dearly amongst the hockey community, but not nearly as much as by your family. Rest in Peace, boys.

from @alexandretexiers

Only a few days ago, Kivi would have been 28. Just for another unimaginable tragedy happening only days later, took the lives of Johnny Gaudreau and his brother Matthew. Both brothers were taken from their mother and father, sisters, wives and children. Children who are all under two, with one not even born yet. I’ve been crying most of today, and I can’t even imagine the pain their families are in. One of their sisters was supposed to get married today, with her brothers by her side as groomsmen. And the bastard that killed them doesn’t even feel any remorse. Rest easy, Johnny and Matthew. You both will be dearly missed

from @rumandwhine

Had to take a day before I could even try to articulate any of this; I've never been this genuinely devastated by the loss of a public figure before. I can't express enough of my heartbreak and condolences for the entire Gaudreau family, I can't even imagine their loss and I won't insult their grief by trying. All I can do is thank them for letting us, the fans, get to know their amazing son, brother, husband, father for a while - it was truly a joy to watch and root for him. And to everyone else - the other fans in mourning or shock or whatever indescribable emotion you're feeling right now - all I can do is remind you that time is precious. Hug your parents, call your siblings, tell your partner you love them. I've already gotten years more than Johnny and Matthew will ever have; I intend to try and make the rest of the ones I'm allowed to mean more then the ones before them. I think that's the only way any of us can really honor their lives. Stay safe. And take care of yourselves.

from @wannabehockeygf

I wish I had all the words, but I don’t. They were so incredibly loved, and so young. My heart goes out to their family and friends. RIP Johnny Hockey & Matthew Gaudreau. Life is so fucking precious.

from @sweetestdesire

The Columbus Blue Jackets have unfortunately lost a few too many, and my heart is aching so bad for Johnny Gaudreau and his family. I can’t even begin to imagine how the team, his wife and children, and his family must be feeling right now. It’s times like this when we realize just how precious life really is. A life that touches others goes on forever. May Johnny and his brother, Matthew rest in peace.

from anonymous

this whole situation is so incredibly devastating. i’ll always remember johnny being afraid of both the CBJ cannon and the penguins at the calgary zoo 😔. while everyone should mourn and grieve as they do, please take the time to remember the happy moments and wonderful memories! seeing the outpour of love from brings me comfort and i can only wish the same for the gaudreau family.

from @bitchinbarzal

Dogs loved him, penguins startled him He was an amazing guy! I met him in Ohio, nicest guy - he deserves to be remembered that way 💙

from @mikkomacko

The first hockey jersey I ever bought was a #13 flames jersey I didn’t grow up in a hockey state, don’t have any friends or family that watch or follow the sport. Every time I asked for a jersey on a holiday or birthday I never got one. No one here knew what to get, where to look for one. I found the jersey for resale and used scholarship money my freshman year of college to buy it. I’m an Avs fan. I went to school in Colorado. But Johnny was one of the first players I ever saw on the tv and I liked his name and number. And I loved how he carried himself on and off the ice. I loved his love for the game and the way he played it. No matter the team, the number, the jersey, whatever I always wanted him to win. Today has been tough for so many and while it’s heartbreaking it’s so heartwarming to see how many players, fans, athletes, and people in general loved and cheered for not just Johnny but his brother too. Sending healing thoughts to his friends, family, and teammates. And to everyone else that was a fan of him like me.

from @strangelymint

I didn't watch much hockey growing up, I've only really started to consistently watch it and keep up with it since the playoffs of the 2021-2022 nhl season. However, the few times I did watch it growing up and starting to keep up with hockey, I remember watching Johnny Gaudreau so well. He was one of the players that made hockey and the Flames so fun, and he had such a huge positive impact on Calgary that I felt even before I watched those playoffs. I wish I got to watch him play more. Rest in peace to Matthew and Johnny Gaudreau and my heart goes out to their family and friends.

from @richards-mike

30/08 - dear johnny hockey, everyone knew your name. i knew it as well. it's difficult to put everything that i'm feeling into words & you kept being in my mind since i opened instagram at work today and that the first post that i saw was the devastating news that you passed away in some deeply disturbing and disgusting circumstances. you were the kind of player that was unique. you had a great talent on the ice, there is no doubt about it, but most importantly a you had the biggest and greatest heart of gold out there. you were the kind of player that everyone could cheer for and that we could admire in silent. you were our ✨special little guy✨ hockey was part of it. but the human part was the most important as well. we never know how much we can lose before we do. your remind us all today that life is fragile. but you reminded me that the world is still a good place. that people still can come together to remember the impact that a simple human can have when they choose kindness. you may be gone today, johnny but you will never be forgotten <13

from @annieqattheperipheral

(paraphrased) I keep getting waves of omg he's really gone. Like really really. We know there are going to be a lot of pregame tributes but like how you gonna do that and then expect anyone to do their jobs after without the entire arena from fans to teams to staff erupting in tears, times 32 rinks across the continent and probably flames and cbj's ahl teams and other teams too. agh. Grieving is so much. I'm glad we have our supports here with each other. Whenever i need to let something out i might post here (always tagging so you can step away, filter if you ever need to knowing what you can or can't handle that day). And so when johnny and matty's spouses each posted about their husbands this weekend.. i was amazed. And happy. I mean as i could be. Because it meant that they were being taken care of, they were supported so well they had no inclination of going inward and isolating. (I mean i withdrew so hard after i hit so many blocks with my family. I didn't post until a month later, informing so many ppl in my life.) Instead the gaudreaus were so open and sharing and that filled me with so much awe of the love and care within their family. Johnny and matty were so . well . loved. Matthew Tkachuk is one of the few players i keep notif on for and he was the one i learned the news from and every time he posts he proves yet again how incredible his family is, that he is being taken care of as well. That's a guy who has let us into his grief and i can't thank him and other players posting enough, that it's not radio silence. That we're sharing in this pain. Incredibly grateful.

from Matthew Tkachuck

Absolutely devastated. I will miss seeing that smile! RIP Hockey! love you bro 💔

from Rasmus Andersson

Trying to find the right words today is not easy. You were a hell of a hockey player but it's the person Johnny that was always is going to be with me, one of my closest friends, it didn't matter if we hadn't spoken in a day or a week we always knew where we had each other! There hasn't been a dry eye in the Andersson house today we all love you Johnny. Looking back at this picture with a smile and a tear, we were very hungover laughing about this the next morning... To Meredith Noa and Johnny Jr we're always here for you and we love you ❤️ Rest in peace uncle Johnny and Matty 🕊️

from Mikael Backlund

I can't believe it's true... I'm gutted. I'm going to miss you buddy. My thoughts are with the entire Gaudreau family. 💔

from Blake Coleman

It's hard to find the words so I'll keep it short. One of the best guys to be around, always had that big smile on your face and never passed up a good time. A great dad and husband to that beautiful family of yours. You will be missed by so many. Praying for your entire family in this incredibly difficult time. Thanks for the memories Johnny, you won't be forgotten. Rest easy #13

from Elias Lindholm

Completely heartbroken. Gonna miss you my friend. Sending all our love to the Gaudreau family. Rest in peace Johnny and Matthew 🕊️❤️

from Cole Caufield

We all lost an amazing person, both on and off the ice, in last week’s tragedy. My deepest condolences go to the entire Gaudreau family, especially Johnny’s wife and two kids, who I had the pleasure of meeting. Nothing will be able to fill the void in their families and loved ones hearts, but I hope it provides some comfort to know how these two positively impacted the lives of so many. They will truly be missed. Getting to play with your hero is something that most people only dream of. I was lucky enough to be Johnny’s teammate this past summer and it didn’t take long to realize how great of a person he was. He was the most welcoming, genuine, and funniest guy I have ever met. He was someone everyone gravitated towards and I took every chance I could to be around him. Not only was he an amazing hockey player and teammate, but he was down to earth and truly cared about every person he encountered. The last few years playing as #22 have been some of the best years of my life. It truly has been a dream come true and I will forever hold those memories and that number close to me. I wore #13 at a point in my career because of Johnny and now I will be wearing it again to honor him. He paved the way for smaller players and proved we had a future in this game at the highest level. I will forever be grateful to him for inspiring me and others. Rest in Peace, Johnny hockey.

from Boone Jenner

I'm absolutely heartbroken to be posting this but John deserves to be honoured, today and always. Take the hockey out of Johnny. You have one of the best friends, teammates, sons, brothers, husbands, and above all, fathers out there. It's impossible to put into words how much we will miss you man. I'll miss the backdoor tap ins, our battles at the card table, our gold matches, but most of all I'll miss you wearing black dress shoes with shorts on every Florida trip. Our thoughts and prayers are with eh Gaudreau and Morris family and everyone affected by this unimaginable tragedy and loss. I love you buddy. May Johnny and Matthew rest in peace.

from Jarome Iginla

While I never had the privilege to play with Johnny, the times we met or played together, I could feel how special he was. Johnny hockey made our sport better in many special ways. My family and I feel blessed to have had the opportunity to have spent time with Wim, and we will always be his fans. With broken hearts, we pray for the Gaudreau family and friends during this devastating time.

from Lanny MacDonald

You were magic, Johnny Hockey

I was in the 'Dome the night he scored in overtime to send the Flames to the second round of the playoffs in 2022. I swear the foundation of that old building was shaking, the eruption from the crowd was so violently joyous. It was the outpouring of love, awe, and gratitude for our fiery hero...watching the passion and fervour Johnny Hockey played with felt electric. There are no words that can match the tragedy of what has happened. Waking up to the news of Johnny and Matthew's passing hit my family like a ton of bricks, not only for their senseless deaths, but the gripping heartbreak for their loved ones who face the unimaginable. Let the hockey world rally around the Gaudreaus, their families and friends, and although we can't even start to understand the depth of their shock and pain, I hope they are overwhelmed with the outpouring of love and support. Go easy on those legends up there in heaven's hockey rink, boys. You're getting there earlier than expected, but they'll take good care of you. Godspeed Johnny and Matthew, Godspeed ❤️

from Jaromir Jagr

I honestly never thought I'd write a text like this to a post. Yea that goal was my last NHL goal. Yes, that's a pretty nice goal. Yes, it was a beautiful pass above all. Unfortunately, life can sometimes be incredibly cruel. Thank you Johnny for being there and giving hope to all the guys with your incredible performances, that though they are not the biggest and toughest, they can succeed at the NHL world class just like you did. My condolences to the whole family. R.I.P to you and your brother

from Wayne Gretzky

Janet, myself and our entire family are devastated as this senseless tragedy. We are sending our love, thoughts, and prayers to the Gaudreau family. We lost two young men who were loved and a huge presence both on and off the ice. Johnny and Matthew, you will always be remembered and missed.

#‣ ✦ ‣ johnny 🕊️ ❤️#johnny gaudreau #johnny gaudreau tribute #johnny hockey

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chlorinecake · 3 months

Text

— GYM BROS | 20th birthday special for @wonbinisbabygurl

⚡︎ PAIRINGS : fitness trainer!chaemin x gym rat!sungchan x subby!wonbin x desperate fem!reader

⚡︎ PLOT : in search for a hot body to match your plans for a hot girl summer, you seek out the council of your city’s most famous fitness trainer, Lee Chaemin… however, you never would’ve guessed that his intentions to get you in shape would turn out to be a team effort…

⚡ ︎WARNINGS : BIG DICK AGENDA, foursome, sungchan's kind of a perv in this, wonbin’s on the subby side, and chaemin's somewhat mean!dom coded, kissing, breath play, spanking/marking, dry humping, finger sucking, praise & degrading kink, oral (m. r) & fingering (f. r.), cum eating & breeding kink, ft. aespa’s ningning

⚡︎ WORD COUNT : 5.8k | co-written w/ the lovely @squoxle !

THERE HAD BEEN a time in your life where guys often threw themselves at you, gracing you with compliment after compliment in hopes that you’d spare them a prolonged glance… or perhaps, even a chance at hooking up with you somehow…

But then, your high school graduation happened, and coming up promptly on the adulthood menu, college applications and job searching.

Academia was simply something you weren’t interested in at the moment, so you took the work route, being employed at a 9-5 desk job until you got sick of that and terminated your contract before the summer.

Now, introducing your best friend Ningning Yizhou, someone you’ve known since high school yet only recently reconnected with within that past six months.

Your bond flourished as if time and personal journeys had never even separated you two, which is precisely why you found yourself where you were today:

Enjoying a sunny afternoon while walking arm-in-arm beside her, exploring the side shops of an outdoor strip mall from a distance…

The sunlight casted long shadows of the surrounding trees across the worn asphalt pathways trailing from the boutiques, the air meddling with scents of freshly cut grass, expensive perfumes, and tasty treats from the nearby food stands.

Back to Ningning though, the poor girl just wouldn’t stop raving about this new workout program she found online, excitedly informing you on all the details about this celebrity status fitness trainer who co-owned the company.

A strand of her long black hair danced in the wind as you both continued to stroll the area, her dainty sunglasses framing her round face as she nudged your shoulder slightly.

“Girl, you gotta try this with me,” she protested in between taking a sip of the fruit smoothie she held in her free grasp.

“Oh, come on ____,” Ningning whined this time, “how are we supposed to have a hot girl summer if we’re not looking like hot girls?!… The math is basic, to be honest…”

You let a soft sigh escape your lips as your gaze fell down towards the hoodie you wore, its fabric feeling heavier than usual, acting as a direct testament to your own lacking commitment to fitness.

“I’m just not too comfortable with the idea of wasting my money on some poor excuse for a fitness trainer,” you sulked, the sweet and icy nectar of your berry blast smoothie providing you with an extra layer of comfort beneath the blazing afternoon heat.

It had been far too long since you’d laced up your sneakers to exercise, your body looking a little too soft for your liking especially on top of the sedentary job you worked for months.

“Well, the lady who runs the program says that her trainers are licensed professionals,” Ningning continued passionately, despite the uninterested look on your face.

“Uh huh,” you nodded plainly, “and by that, you mean she hires people who wasted their money getting a license to help people do push ups, right?”

“Look, if we sign up now, we can get our first month free,” she stated, halting the pace of her steps to turn and face you directly this time, “so do you wanna do this with me or not?…”

The pressure was starting to kick in now, and although you had been trying to keep up your stubborn act for as long as you could, all of Ningning’s talk about sculpted abs, toned legs, and the perfect bubble butt was enough to spark even the smallest flicker of appeal within you.

It was a simple fact, really… like most women, you wanted to get in the best shape of your life this summer, possibly granting you a much needed injection of excitement into your otherwise mundane single life.

“Fine, I’ll join the stupid program,” you rolled your eyes sarcastically, a bright smile creeping across Ningning’s lips as she cheered for joy, exposing her cute round teeth.

“Yes! Hot girl summer, here we come!”

You let yourself giggle at your friends enthusiasm, her energetic aura always having a way of radiating onto you anyways…

And yes, you still felt a bit hesitant about venturing back into the gym after such a long hiatus, but with a little push, a little sweat, and a little confidence, you were ready to accept that maybe this whole workout thing was exactly what you both needed…

AFTER AGREEING TO enroll into the program, you decided to do a little research on your own back at home, and from what you could tell, the website looked fairly promising.

“Once I joined, I just couldn’t stop coming,” one review read, another following comment stating that they couldn’t remember the last time their bodies looked 'this great.'

And strangely enough, you found yourself convinced from that alone, jotting in your name, age, and other necessary credentials on the website's "SIGN UP" front page.

Wrapping a hoodie around your waist, you slipped into your fitness shoes, tossing your gym bag over your shoulder and making your way to your first fitness class.

Initially, you were under the impression that your trainer would be another girl by default, so you didn’t put too much effort into your appearance.

To be honest, your outfit was giving more of a “I just fell out of bed on a lazy sunday and decided to go for a jog” look rather than “Oh my God, this is my first workout class and I wanna make a good impression!”

Not like you cared all that stuff anyways, though... you were here to work up a sweat and get your dream body, not win a fashion competition.

Sprinkling a peach flavored electrolyte pack into your 40 ounce water bottle, you gave it a few shakes in your hand, watching closely as the powder dissolved before taking a sip and walking into the daunting building ahead of you—

“Alrighty, it looks like you’re all set, Miss ____. Your personal trainer will be waiting for you in the Private Training Room, code number 210B,” the older lady at the front desk smiled, straightening out the consumer information sheet you had just filled out and sliding it into the file drawer beside her.

“Ok, cool! And I'm sorry, but where do I go from here?”

“Just take that elevator to the second floor, hun. From there, you're gonna need to take a right, and room 10 should be right there!”

“Ok, thanks,” you nodded in a friendly voice before walking off, deciding within yourself that you'd take the stairwell instead of the elevator given the long line of people waiting there.

That's when the sound of humming treadmills, heavy metal clinks, and a mix of strained grunts hit your ears as you navigated around the second floor, taking a right turn just as the receptionist advised.

And there it was... Room 210B in all of its mysterious glory.

Your eyes wandered down to the soft natural light peeking from beneath the door, the handle twisting with a gentle creak as you walked in.

“Hi! You must be ____,” a deep male voice immediately greeted you. “I’ll be your fitness instructor and personal body trainer for the entirety of this program,” the man went on with a smile, extending his hand to shake yours, “My name is Lee Chaemin, but you can just call me Chae or Coach.”

What the actual fuck, you thought to yourself, struggling to properly return the handshake given the way your eyes ogled at him now.

He was criminally attractive, and you doubted wholeheartedly that you'd be able to function efficiently in his presence, let alone under his piercing gaze—

“V-very nice to meet you,” you somehow managed to choke out, making him quirk a brow at your flustered demeanor before going on to outline the criteria of your workout plan.

But your inner thoughts... God, they had gotten so loud that you could hardly even process a single word that escaped his lips, imagining within yourself how nice his hands would feel while wrapped around your neck...

At this point, you had completely missed the part where you were supposed to answer his question.

“Huh? I mean uh- Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you had any particular body goals in mind?” He repeated with a faint chuckle, eyes flattening out into pretty crescents as he tilted his head at you.

Shit, his smile is absolutely perfect—

“Hmm... I mainly just wanna tone up and lose some body fat, y’know?”

“Yea, of course... in that case, we’ll start you out with some basics so I can get an idea of your current strength... then, we can work our way up from there,” he said, just as he made his way over to the wall and grabbed two yoga mats.

“I’ll demonstrate the poses and you can just cop me. Don’t worry if it feels a little awkward at first, I’ll guide you into position if you need,” he smiled again, laying down the mats for you two.

You joined him on the ground now, eyes following the movements of his body as twisted into various different stretches before finally coming to one that nearly knocked you off your feet.

“Oh, hold on! I gotchya,” he huffed, grabbing hold of your waist as you bent over with your legs spread apart. Even though you knew he wasn’t doing anything intentionally, you couldn’t help but internally melt at the feeling of him standing behind you like this...

Eventually though, your stretching period was finished, following up with a few simple pilate-like exercises and a mile run on the treadmill right after.

Fairly easy enough for my first day, you thought to yourself again, noting that if there was anything you learned today, it was that this Chae guy or whatever the hell he wanted you to call him, was sickeningly sexy, or in other words, just the extra vessel of visual motivation you needed to keep going on this journey...

BY THE END of the first week, you had changed up your wardrobe completely, not wanting any extra fabric to get in the way of you copping a feel here and there.

Besides, wearing a tight pair of yoga leggings with a mini crop top was much better suited for your hot girl aesthetic versus your usual hoodie and baggy gym pants.

As expected though, the next few classes became progressively more challenging... similarly to the rock hard bulge resting behind Chaemin's pants.

You were already seeing some promising results, too, despite how it had only been a few weeks since you first started... Ningning was in a more dance-focused class than yours, but her results were just as amazing, making this little hot girl duo between you two really worth the effort.

Unfortunately though, your free trial was coming to an end soon, so with the last few hours you got to spend with Chaemin every week, you hoped there'd be a chance for you to get a little something more out of him.

“See ya after class, babes,” Ningning waved with her typically warm and optimistic energy, making you flash her an equally friendly smile as you waved her off in the same manner, walking off into Private Training Room.

“Today’s gonna be a little different,” your trainer started to speak as soon as you opened the door.

“Different how?” You asked, sliding your gym bag from over your shoulder and placing it on the carrier shelves beside you.

“Well,” he continued in between clearing his throat, “one of my friend’s will be joining us in the room today, if you don't mind... He’s a personal trainer, too.”

Your eyes widened slightly as his words as a neutral pout overcame your features. “Oh, well yea, I don't have a problem with that,” you reassured him, making Chaemin flash you a thankful smile as you got started on laying down the yoga mats, just as Chaemin reached in his gym shorts pocket to pull out his phone.

“Perfect... I'll get started with you in a bit, though... I'm just texting him to verify how much longer it's gonna be before he gets here–”

“Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long,” a new voice called out from beside you as the room door slung open, the sound of layered footsteps hitting your ears as the newcomer invited himself into the space, cutting Chaemin off mid-sentence.

“Oh- Hey, Chan! I was just about to text you,” Chaemin let himself chuckle slightly before dapping up his friend.

“____, this is Sungchan, the trainer I was telling you about earlier...”

“Nice to meet you, ____,” Sungchan nodded with a gentle smile, a feeling of butterflies rushing through your lower stomach aa you found yourself having to look up to meet his face.

That's when the source of the second pair of footsteps became clear to you, just as a slightly shorter but equally as attractive guy joined the space.

“Wonbin,” the third boy introduced himself plainly, voice a bit feathery as he nervously shook your hand.

“Don’t worry. We shouldn’t bother y’all too much. Me and Won are gonna be training over here, but if you need anything just let me know, okay?” Sungchan went on, looking directly into your eyes, practically knocking you off your feet.

“Cool! Me and ____ are gonna get started over here, then,” Chaemin clapped as you started your first round of cardio, which today turned out to be a 10 minute jump roping circuit to help warm you up.

Chaemin kept track of the time as usual in between barking out a few words of encouragement, even though you could definitely tell another set of eyes were on you...

Glancing in one of the mirrors, you caught onto to the way Sungchan shamelessly stared at your body as you jumped up and down, a small smirk staining his features as the sheen of sweat decorated you slightly exposed chest now.

He was supposed to be spotting Wonbin at the bench press, but he just couldn’t take his eyes off of you for the life of him, almost in disbelief at the way you clearly started to put on a little show for him, letting your breath come out in high-pitched pants as you continued jumping.

“Nice work, ____,” Chaemin exclaimed as your timer went off, right before he suggested that you work on a bit of strength training for the next 30 minutes.

“I think I need a little more time to calm down before I hit the weights, Coach,” you huffed out tiredly, explaining to him that it'd be better if you just worked on something a little less strenuous for the time being...

Glutes.

Of course, Chaemin wasn't going to make you overwork yourself, especially since you claimed to be feeling a bit more spent than usual...

By now, you had fully memorized the glute routine he made you do twice every week, including a rep of squat variations, lunges, bridge lifts, and fire hydrants.

Chaemin usually stood behind you whenever you did squats, guiding your waist with the lightest touch he could to make sure your form was on point.

This time though, you noticed that he wasn't even within three-feet of your presence, having his backed turned to you as you pushed out your first set of sumo squats, watching him walk even further away in the mirror ahead of you.

“Hey, where're you headed?” You asked through slightly labored breaths, still counting in the back of your mind how many squats you had done so far...

“Oh, I just gotta take care of something really quick... Sungchan'll be here if you need him for anything.”

“Alright then,” you nodded, feeling that familiar burning sensation course through your hips, “take your time!”

“Thanks,” he replied, walking over to where Sungchan stood near Wonbin and exchanging a few words with him that you couldn't make out through all of Wonbin's grunting, leaving to room shortly after.

Twenty-eight... twenty-nine... thirty, you lazily counted out each squat in your head, letting yourself take a few conscious breaths just as Sungchan made his way over to you now.

“Looks like it’s gonna be just you and me then, huh?” he began with a smirk, scanning your body with his eyes.

“Well... not exactly,” you returned quietly, peeking over his shoulder to find Wonbin adjusting a pair of headphones over his head.

“He's not one to bother people, trust me... It’ll be like he’s not even here,” Sungchan reassured you, just as he ran a hand through his shaggy hair and walked closer towards you, “Now... I say we freestyle a bit and try out a few exercises you've probably never done before, yeah?”

The word 'intrigued' didn’t even begin to describe the way you felt right now... the look on his face was so mysterious yet so telling at the same time... you could hardly make any sense of his behavior, but you had a pretty good feeling his mind was on the same thing as your own wandering one:

A quick fuck sometime with no strings-attached.

His heads rested at your shoulders now as he positioned himself behind you. “Let’s start with a stretch first since you just finished a pretty intense cardio set,” he suggested with a slight rasp to his voice, a familiar and alluring feeling washing over you as he spread your legs apart with a strong hand.

“This will help stretch out your hip flexors,” he continued, keeping his touch secured around your inner thighs. “Just get down as low as you can for me, 'kay? You can stop if anything starts to hurt...”

You couldn't help but blush a bit at his choice of words, following his instructions carefully as you squatted down as far as you could, poking your hips out a bit before coming back up to a standing position.

“So,” his still voice sounded from behind you, “you enjoying this little program so far?”

“Yeah, actually... I had low expectations in the beginning, but it's turning out to be a really good thing for me,” you answered while peddling your feet, hands glued to the floor.

“Oh, cool! That's always good to hear... What do you think about Chaemin, though?”

“What about him?” You returned with a bit of confusion to your tone.

“Well... I'm just curious to know if he’s been a little… touchy with you,” Sungchan hummed as you laid on your back, forcing your legs apart gently with his hands as your breath hitched slightly.

“I uh…well... not really,” you exhaled through your nose, feeling the sudden pull in your muscles.

“Oh?... I would’ve expected something different from him,” Sungchan shrugged while pushing his weight into your thighs even more... the position was already a bit erotic in itself, but it really didnt help now that his bulge had grazed up against the growing wetness behind your yoga pants, making your stomach tighten with need.

And it was written all over his adorably mischievous face, too... how much he enjoyed stretching you out passed your limits—

“Ngh!” You winced through furrowed brows, slightly turning your head to the side with your hands framing your head on the yoga mat.

He chuckled softly, letting his eyes wander from the sight of your puffy pussy poking through your leggings before making eye contact with you suddenly. “Sorry about that... Let’s work on a different position...”

You shook the tightness out of your legs before standing to your feet, letting Sungchan guide your body into a downward dog position, leaving your ass high up in the air and your legs spread wide open to the point where almost nothing was left to the imagination now...

You're not sure why, but every single thing this guy said or did in this moment was turning you on... from his voice, his body, and even to his scent, Sungchan had you fully enthralled by him in just a matter of minutes—

“So,” he started again, “how long have you been training with Chae for?”

“Just a few weeks,” you huffed back, voice a bit tight given the stretch you felt in your spine.

“Really? That’s impressive,” Sungchan exclaimed from behind you, eyes obviously falling to the view of your cleavage in the mirror ahead before flickering back up, “your physique already looks so amazing, ____.”

“Please,” you scoffed, a warm feeling erupting in your stomach given how close he was to you, “but I appreciate the compliment, Channie… your friend Chaemin’s a pretty good coach, y'know…”

“Yea, that might be true, but,” Sungchan’s voice trailed off in the same manner that his hands trailed from your thighs, applying pressure to your lower back as he forced you abdomen closer to the ground, “he can be a little mean with his clients, if you ask me…”

In all honesty, you didn't fully understand why Sungchan kept bringing up Chaemin, but you couldn't say you disagreed with his opinions about him...

Chaemin did have his moments where he was a little tough on you, but the horny slut inside you didn't mind his dominance, anyways...

“Agreed,” you sighed, letting your muscles relax into the position, “but if he’s so mean and what not... what does that make you?”

“A well-balanced personal trainer,” Sungchan replied with pride almost instantly, “considering that Chae often forgets to include the ‘personal’ aspect when it comes to fitness… he’s more—”

“Physical... like you said,” you budded in for him, making Sungchan chuckle, “and you’re personal… gotchya…”

“But what’s your preference?” He asked, voice falling a little closer to your ear as he forced his palm into your back even further, the curve of your ass sitting right at his front.

You knew there was more to Sungchan's question than what met the surface…

Briefly reasoning within yourself, you moved from the stretching position, turning to face Sungchan as you leaned towards him.

“I suppose I’m open to both,” you whispered seductively, resting your hand just inches away from the mound between his legs.

His breath got caught in his chest now as your hand started to tread even closer to his center, moving upwards until you suddenly stopped, looking back into his eyes. “Think you can meet both those needs for me… Channie?” You went on in a voice soft as silk yet as seductive as a siren, batting your eyelashes at him as he licked his lips slightly.

“How about this... I’ll offer you a free trial before we make anything official,” Sungchan whispered, trying to keep his lingo as indirectly suggestive as possible, “but it’s only a limited time offer…”

His voice faded away, just as the eye contact he held with you wandered off to the wall bench just a few feet from you both on the stretching mat.

And before you could even turn to meet his face again, he was already standing up, flashing you a knowing expression as he walked to the bench, taking a seat and shamelessly manspreading right before your eyes.

He reached for his water bottle sitting on the ground, raising the liquid to his lips and taking a few gulps, your eyes watching the line of veins trailing up his sculpted neck and shoulders as you simply accepted that fact that you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore…

Not while this horny, of course...

Besides, if there’s anything a hot girl did best it was hot girl shit, annd you’d be a fool to let Sungchan sit there and do nothing about the boner obviously growing behind his gym pants.

Limited time offer, huh? You thought to yourself before standing up from the mat, zipping down your workout top a bit to let your tits breathe.

Well it’s a good day to be impatient…

You climbed onto Sungchan's lap, wrapping your thighs around him as you felt him pressing into your core, a feeling that excited you more than you cared to admit.

"Oh so we're doing this now?" The tall boy asked, smiling as you got comfortable on top of him.

"As if this wasn't the goal since you set your eyes on me," you smirked, leaning in to kiss his plump lips.

Sungchan hummed within the contact, letting his eyes flutter shut before speaking...

"You just look so fucking hot in these yoga pants," he mumbled with your lower lip snug between his teeth before lightly pulling away "can’t wait to get ‘em off you..." he continued raspily, gripping at your hips before kneeding the flesh there in his hands.

In the midst of all this, Wonbin was completely oblivious to what you and Chan were up to, too focused on pushing out his final reps of bench presses, silver headphones secured tightly around his sweat-drenched mane as a certain tune blasted in his ears.

That’s when he caught onto the faint sounds bleeding beyond the audio from his headset, plain curiosity getting the best of him as he hooked the barbell back to its power rack, ending his set to get a peek at his surroundings.

He took off his headphones and sat them neatly on the equipment, giving his damp hair a slight shake before turning his head to the noise behind him, only to find a breathless you situated in Sungchan’s lap.

The eldest flashed Wonbin a look with the most shit-eating grin plastered across his deer-like features as your tongues intertwined sloppily, even though Wonbin’s attention had clearly darted toward your ass by now, both enticed by and shocked at the way you grinded against his friend’s lap so shamelessly.

You soon noticed the way Sungchan’s face wandered from yours slightly, provoking you to turn for yourself to see exactly what had caught his attention.

And there he was, an utterly flabbergasted Wonbin meeting your eyes with his own hesitant ones, an even more evident bulge resting behind his gym shorts now as blood rushed to the tip of his cock, getting harder and harder with every breath he took.

Sungchan returned his lips to your neck now, nibbling at the skin there while still keeping a grip on your tight ass, "Don't think I can wait much longer baby..." he groans against you, almost as if the taste of you alone was making him hungrier for any sort of stimuli.

"What are you waiting for then, big boy?... it's not like anyone here has a problem with us... isn't that right, Binnie?" You pressed, biting your lip while looking the reluctant boy up and down.

But Wonbin remained quiet, only giving you a shyly desperate look as his lips part slightly, making way for his tongue to run over his lips greedily.

He felt like he had never contemplated something so hard in his entire life while in this moment.

"C’mon, don’t be shy… you can join us if you like..." you continued, flashing Wonbin your signature blowjob eyes as Sungchan obviously began to appear a bit thrown off by the boldness of your offer towards his friend, making his plush lips cease from marking you for a moment despite his initial playfulness…

Still, and oddly enough, Wonbin’s nervous demeanor had a way of exciting Sungchan even more, especially with how dirty you and him were getting during what was intended to be your training period.

"Get over here, Won... she doesn't bite as much as I do..." Sungchan mustered encouragingly, even though Wonbin’s feet were already moving towards you two at the wall bench.

He sat down next to you both, watching dumbly as you suddenly stopped grinding against Sungchan’s lap.

"W-...what do I do?" He asked timidly, fidgeting with his fingers in his lap as you simply smiled back at the gorgeous men before you.

"Pull your pants down," you said bluntly, "both of you..."

And with that command, it didn't take long for Wonbin to start working with the waist tie of his shorts, pulling at the strings and sliding the fabric past his hips.

And once you climbed off of Sungchan’s lap, he proceeded to do the same, hooking his thumbs at the hem of his pants before shimmying them down like you asked.

You got on your knees between them, exchanging one more look of consent before taking their sensitive members in your hands, alternating between either stroking them or letting their dicks take turns basking in the warmth of your skilled mouth.

The sounds of their pleased grunts and hums layering over each other was more than enough to get your pussy dripping with need.

You admired the feeling of Wonbin’s long and pretty cock gliding down your throat while also savoring the girth of Sungchan’s throbbing dick as you pumped him in your fist at the same time.

The eldest of the two had his mouth hung open, head thrown back against the wall as his hips lifted into your hand, desperate for more friction than what was already being offered…

And on the other hand, Wonbin tried to keep his lip bitten firmly between his teeth as an attempt to hold in his moans, only to fail miserably once you licked around a certain spot along his shaft... his sweet spot…

"Oh, you like that baby?" You asked rhetorically, watching as his chest began to heave with each stroke of your tongue against his log of nerves, his lustful eyes wandering to the sight behind you as another person invited themselves to witness the filthy scene ahead.

It was none other than Coach Chaemin, who judging from the outside, appeared as though he practically expected this to happen… finding a horny you slutting it out with his close mates in the private training room at the first opportunity you got...

Still, he wasn't gonna let you get away that easily without first inserting himself into the fun... and I mean that quite literally, here.

Chaemin kneeled himself behind you, tugging down your yoga pants and landing a hard smack to the curve of your ass, snickering at the fact that you didn't even have panties on.

And it all happened so fast that you didn't even have a chance to react properly before his thick fingers were lodged inside you, curling against the spongy spot that never failed to make your back arch.

"F-fuckkk," you mewled erotically, turning your head back to find your trainer fucking his digits into your heat, this more openly dirty side of him finally coming out to play...

"Turn back around," he ordered, just as Sungchan already helped himself to guiding your chin back to face him, shoving your lips over his cock and hitting the back of your moist den with his tip.

His veins were even more pronounced now as intense pleasure coursed through every cell in his 6-foot-something body, gently smacking his cock through the side of your cheek to tease you.

"Shhh," he cooed facetiously as your teary eyes met his taunting ones, the mascara you put on earlier bleeding at the corner of your eyes as your grip around Wonbin's cock tightened with your growing urge to gag.

Sungchan went on, almost chuckling now as he slowly pushed your head further down his length, whispering within the mere air separating you two, "You like choking around my dick, huh pretty girl? Like it when I stuff your mouth so full with my cock that you can’t even think straight, don’t you?”

All you could do was dumbly nod around him, eventually gasping out loud once he finally released your head from his hold, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

But at this point, Wonbin was already spilling his load over your freshly manicured fingers, a reddish hue rushing to his cheeks out of embarrassment of how fast he came.

He stuttered out your name in between his hiccupy moans, Chaemin’s narrowed eyes catching sight of the sticky situation, just as he landed a wet smack against your ass again with the same hand he just fingered you with.

"Lick it up, babyface… or else my fingers are all you're getting from here..." Chaemin ordered in a deep and almost threatening tone, making you clench your pussy around nothing as he slid his hand beneath your workout top, smacking your tits as a means to encourage you.

And already being too desperate for the lost feeling of his fingers inside you, you leaned over Wonbin’s lap almost immediately, clinging to his toned thighs as you lapped at the pearly release, making his abs clench at the returned stimulation.

"So fucking hot," Sungchan mumbled, fisting himself at an aggressive pace as you kept catching Wonbin’s cum on your extended tongue, keeping eye contact with him the entire time as he groaned out his high, gently caressing the side of your face.

“You’re unreal, ____,” the long haired boy hummed, almost feeling lovesick at the way you kept licking at him.

Being so distracted in the way Wonbin gazed at you in this strangely intimate moment, you didn’t even realize that Chaemin had already slipped his shorts down, letting a bit of spit dribble from his tongue to help coat his length before sliding it into you.

The stretch genuinely caught you off guard, a shaky whimper slipping past your lips as you covered your mouth, trying to hold in your cries.

“Aww, too big for you, sweetie?” Chaemin taunted, watching the way your pussy practically struggled to take all of him, but he didn’t care, knowing that it’d only be a matter of time before you started begging for more.

“I can be gentle if you want me too… is that what you want?” He went on, landing another smack to your tits as he leaned closer to your ear, nibbling at the flesh there.

You couldn’t even attempt to get a word out once you felt his length slide further into you, amazed in your own mind that the stretch you felt earlier was only from half of his cock.

“Didn’t think so,” Chaemin smirked, his dick twitching at the tightness your hole provided before moving away from your ear, grabbing hold of your hips again as he slowly started to move inside you.

“Move your hand, angel,” Sungchan mumbled again, desperate to hear any more sounds from you to help him reach his high. “Need to come so fucking bad, baby… open your mouth for me,” he groaned, letting you take his tip in your mouth as your sealed your lips around him, only to break away suddenly as Chaemin thrusted roughly into you this time, grunting at the pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re pussy’s perfect… so tight,” he said with a rasp voice, struggling to stop himself from fucking you any faster than your tightness could take, “afraid I might split you open if I keep going, princess…”

All you could do was whine pathetically as Chaemin kept thrusting into you from behind, a burning sensation mixing with the growing pleasure from his length stretching you out.

“F-fuckk- Shit!” Sungchan groaned desperately, jerking his cock to the point where his seed ended up making a much bigger mess than intended, spurts of his cum getting everywhere but in your eyes at this point.

Your hands still rested at Wonbin and Sungchan’s thighs, and although Wonbin seemed a bit relaxed now, he was simply waiting for his next chance to get off, Sungchan slowly relieving his cock from the relentless strokes of his own hand before leaning down to kiss you, moaning at the taste of himself in your mouth mixing with your saliva.

Wonbin watched closely as his friend's tongue ran up against yours in the messy contact, the sight doing nothing but making the poor boy stiff all over again.

“Hey… wanna take a turn?” Chaemin asked Wonbin through a breathless voice, his question almost getting lost between the series of whines spilling from your mouth, Sungchan’s hand holding your face in place as he looked into your eyes, whispering dirty nothings against your lips as you took Chaemin from the back.

“Fuck, please,” you cried out for reasons you didn’t understand, face a mess of streaky makeup as you laved at Sungchan’s thumb in your mouth.

“It’s okay, baby… we’re taking good care of you, see?” Sungchan smiled, just as the feeling of fullness left your core as Chaemin slipped out, moving over for Wonbin to take his place.

“Gonna make you feel so much better,” Wonbin said from behind you, lining up his tip with your gaping entrance before fully sliding in, much easier than Chaemin did.

While Wonbin’s fucking you from the back, Chaemin swaps places with Sungchan on the wall bench, tapping your lips with his slimy cock with a smirk on his face, all before sliding himself in and fucking the daylights out of your throat.

And your eyes were practically popping outta your head at this point given how rough he was being… you couldn't help yourself but to scratch at his thighs like a helpless kitten, making Chaemin wince as you marked his honey-colored skin with thin, red lines.

Meanwhile, Wonbin was still getting busy behind you, his hips grinding against you at a slow pace, clearly contrasting between Chaemin’s more aggressive sexual nature.

And it was only a matter of time before Sungchan joined Wonbin where he was on the ground, discarding himself from his pants completely now as he held his cock in one hand and stroking over the curve of your ass with the other, utterly mesmerized by your feminine figure.

“C’mon, Wonbin, you can fuck her harder than that, huh?” Sungchan huffed sarcastically, jerking his cock once again with his fist at the sight of your hole gushing with arousal, your fluids creating the most heavenly sheen around Wonbin’s length as he took heed to his friend’s words, fucking into you faster and deeper despite how much it overstimulated him.

“Yeah… that’s it… keep fucking her just like that- mmm, fuck yeah,” Sungchan groaned, sliding his hands between your legs and letting his fingers find your heat, slapping a bit at your pussy lips before circling your throbbing clit.

You felt like you were going completely dumb now given all the sensations you were experiencing, Wonbin’s tip working wonders in your cunt as he hit all the best parts inside you, his own eyes becoming watery now as he felt himself approaching his high again, mumbling tiny words of praise from behind you.

But Chaemin… oh God, he was a complete menace in this moment, calling you his good little cum slut as he continued fucking your face full of his shaft, your jaw going slack as you cried dumbly around his veiny cock.

That’s when you felt a burst of warmth enter you from both ends, Chaemin’s seed coating the back of your throat as Wonbin collapsed over your back, stilling his thrusts as he spilled his release all over your walls, heavy grunts coming from both of them now that they’d reached their highs.

“Awww, fuck,” Sungchan moaned this time, feeling himself draw closer and closer to the point of no return as Wonbin backed away from you, knowing that Sungchan had every intention of getting to stuff your pussy with his length just like the others did.

That's when you felt Sungchan grab your waist from behind, right before pushing his dick into you.

You couldn’t help but whine as you felt him stretch you open, gasping at the feeling of his hand wrapping around your throat, still feeling a bit sore from Chae's ministrations earlier.

He shoved his tongue into your mouth, kissing you sloppily as cum and saliva dripped down the sides of your lips, trailing down your neck as he humped into you hard and fast, causing your breasts to bounce freely from the force.

And seeing this only drew Chaemin's attraction to the perky flesh of your best as he found himself sucking on one of your tits, grazing his teeth over your skin.

“Get over here, Wonnie,” Sungchan grunted, watching as his friend sat tiredly by himself... “There’s a pretty tit for you, too,” he chuckled before smacking your ass, making you yelp at the stinging sensations traveling all the way up to your face.

“She’s still not making enough noise for me,” Chaemin huffed before jamming two of his fingers into your mouth, causing your eyes to tear up even more.

“Scream for me, slut,” he grinned while he roughly stimulated your clit with his free hand, Wonbin's tongue never ceasing in sucking at your nipples, moaning at the taste.

At this point, you struggled to keep your balance, feeling your body begin to shake uncontrollably as Sungchan held your body tighter, hips still drilling into you at a relentless pace.

“Feels so fucking good inside you, baby,” Sungchan sucked through his teeth, a bit of saliva filling his mouth as the pattern of his thrusts slowed down, his hips ripping away from your heat as you fell into the two other boy's before you, your body fucked completely dumb now.

There was so much cum inside you at this point that you're sure it'd probably be leaking out of you for weeks after this...

You felt Sungchan’s dick slide out as he rested his chin on your shoulder, kissing the skin there before sighing against your neck and saying, “That was pretty fun, huh, pretty?”

You couldn’t really get a word out in this moment, and he caught onto it, talking for you instead of trying to get any words out of you…

“We should do something like this again, y’know?…I’m sure Wonbin would like it too,” he went on with a chuckle as Wonbin’s cheeks flushed red, running a bashful hand through his bangs down as he worked on fixing his shorts back.

“This’ll only last for another week before your free trial expires,” Chaemin began with a hoarse voice while keeping his eyes trained on you as he pulled up his shorts, too.

“Well, that’s only unless she doesn’t come back for more,” Sungchan pitched in, lifting his weight from your body and helping you guide your yoga pants back over your hips.

Although you are were currently unsure as to whether or not you would proceed with paying for the full program after such an unexpected encounter, you couldn't deny that being tossed around by three hot guys had your head spinning in the best way possible…

And as the four of you stood all sweaty and sticky in a circle, still trying to catch your shaky breaths as the fitness session neared its end, the idea of your average workout sessions with Chaemin seems much less appealing than the full-body workout you experienced today.

⚡︎ AUTHOR'S NOTE | My sister and I definitely got a little carried away with the plot this time, but hopefully someone out there enjoyed reading the hot mess of a story as much as we did when writing it for our dear mutual... And once again, Happy belated Birthday @wonbinisbabygurl !!! Cheers to another year of your beautiful life <3

⚡︎ TAGS | @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @nikisvanillaccola @addictedtohobi @watamotee33 @ot7sevenlvr

⚡︎ Feel free to check out my RIIZE masterlist if you’re interested in more works by me!

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corrupte3d-mindz · 3 months

Text

In Your Shadow

Stalker! Jonathan Crane x F! Reader

Summary: He's a bit deranged, but he loves you in his own sick and twisted way.

Wordcount: 7.8k

Warnings:

extremely perverted! Jonathan, extremely possessive! Jonathan, sexual harassment, sexual assault, harassment, heavy stalking, stealing personal belongings, threatening, manipulating, gaslighting, belittling, degrading, kidnapping for a second, cumming in panties, jerking off, forced kissing, whining, whimpering, begging, all around subby things from Jonathan.

Jonathan’s apartment is a study in organized chaos. Papers and books are strewn across every available surface, creating a labyrinthine maze that only he understands.

The flickering light from the computer screen casts a ghostly pallor over the room, accentuating the shadows that dance along the walls. Jonathan sits at his desk, a place of both work and obsession. His hair is a disheveled mess, beads of sweat dotting his forehead and trickling down the nape of his neck. His suit, once pristinely pressed, is now rumpled; the top button of his shirt undone, and his tie hanging loosely, as if discarded mid-thought.

His fingers glide over the mouse, the soft clicks echoing in the otherwise silent room. Each photo that appears on the screen brings a new wave of emotion, a blend of longing and possessiveness that tightens his chest and quickens his breath. He leans forward, eyes narrowing as he studies each image with meticulous care. These aren't just pictures to him—they are glimpses into her life where he has painstakingly inserted himself into, moments he has captured either through his own lens or extracted from the depths of the internet. Jonathan exhales softly, his lips curving into a faint, almost predatory smile as he reaches the more revealing photos; not really. These are the ones he treasures most, the ones that reveal her in states of vulnerability and intimacy. Whether he found them online or took them himself, each image is a testament to his unyielding obsession.

He runs a hand through his sweaty hair, pushing it back from his face, only for it to fall back into disarray moments later. His eyes, a piercing blueish green, scan over the images with a clinical yet possessive gaze. He imagines her in those moments, unaware of his presence, blissfully ignorant of the shadow that watches over her. His breathing grows heavier, more labored, as his mind conjures scenes of their intertwined fates. Jonathan’s glasses slid down the bridge of his nose, the silver frames glinting under the dim lamp light; He clicked his mouse one more time, the sound echoing in the silence. He knew what came next. He had been through these photos countless times, scrutinizing each one with the devotion of a scholar studying sacred texts. They were his Bible, each image a verse he had memorized.

There it was, his favorite photo of her. It was a candid shot taken at a coffee shop where she worked. The image was slightly blurred, capturing the movement of her hands as she passed a cup to a customer, her smile bright and genuine. Jonathan stared at the photo, his heart aching with a twisted blend of love and possessiveness. He remembered the day he took it, how he had positioned himself discreetly at the back, pretending to read a newspaper while his camera did the real work. God, her smile, he thought, his breath hitching slightly. That smile was the beacon that guided him through the darkness of his existence. He would do anything and everything for her, just to see her smile. His mind wandered back to the first time he saw her. She was a new barista at the small coffee shop he frequented near the Arkham Asylum. He had noticed her immediately—her grace, her kindness, the way she interacted with customers. It was as if a light had entered his life, one that he desperately needed.

His fingers traced the outline of her face on the screen, a reverent, almost worshipful gesture. The apartment around him was forgotten; the only reality that mattered was her image on the screen. He could almost hear her laughter, the way it would ring out softly over the hum of conversation and the clinking of coffee cups. He imagined what it would be like to be the cause of that laughter, to be the one who brought joy to her life. His obsession had started innocently enough—small, frequent visits to the coffee shop, watching her from a distance. But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned to months; his fascination grew. He began to take photos, each click of the camera shutter a way to capture a piece of her to keep with him always. He knew it was wrong, knew it crossed boundaries, but he couldn’t stop himself. It was as if she had cast a spell on him, one he had no desire to break.

He leaned back in his leather chair, a sigh escaping his lips as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. It had been another grueling day at Arkham Asylum dealing with the disturbed minds that mirrored his own in many ways. The monotony of his daily routine was a necessary facade, a mask that concealed the darkness within. But now, as the evening crept in, he was on the verge of something far more exhilarating. His piercing blueish eyes flickered with anticipation as he glanced at his work bag under his desk. Thinking about how he had been waiting for that moment, meticulously planning, and now he finally had a tangible piece of her. Jonathan Crane, master of fear, had been reduced to a lovesick stalker, but he didn't care. His obsession with her was all-consuming, a fire that burned brighter with each passing day. He remembered the moment like it was yesterday, but it actually was just a couple of hours before; it went a little like this.

Once he had discovered her routine, learning that she did her laundry at the same laundromat every week. She trusted the place enough to leave her clothes unattended while she went to work. It was a small window of opportunity, but Jonathan was nothing if not patient. He had bided his time, waiting for the perfect moment to act. Today was the day. Her clothes had finished drying just before she had taken her lunch to come retrieve them. Jonathan had slipped into the laundromat, on his way to his apartment, blending in with the other patrons. His heart pounded in his chest as he approached the dryer, his hands trembling slightly. He was always calm in the face of fear, but this was different. This was personal. He reached into the dryer, sifting through the warm, freshly cleaned clothes until his fingers brushed against something delicate. He pulled out a pair of black panties, adorned with lace trim. They were hers, a piece of her most intimate apparel. The thrill of possession surged through him, a dark, twisted satisfaction that made his pulse quicken. Jonathan slipped the panties into his coat pocket, acting nonchalant as he left the laundromat. Once he was out he moved them to his work bag. The walk back to his apartment was a blur, his mind racing with thoughts of her. She was so close, yet so unattainable. But now he had a piece of her, something tangible to hold onto. Fuck, he couldn’t even believe it; he couldn’t believe that he managed to do that.

He leaned over while in his chair, his slender fingers curling around the strap of his work bag, pulling it into his lap with a sense of purpose. However, in a fleeting moment, his mind wandered, envisioning her, the object of his relentless fixation, as the weight on his lap, a subconscious desire momentarily surfacing before he regained control. With a sharp exhale, he unzipped one of the pockets of his bag, his movements precise and deliberate. His fingers emerged, clutching a pair of black panties with delicate lace trim, a stark contrast to the cold, calculated demeanor he often exuded. He held them up, the fabric soft against his skin, his mind drifting into a realm of thoughts, some gentle and longing, others tinged with a more primal desire.

Jonathan's thoughts were a whirlwind, a mix of conflicting emotions and desires. He imagined her scent lingering on the fabric, the softness of her skin, the curve of her body. His breath hitched, the image vivid in his mind, yet unattainable in reality. As he sat there, lost in his thoughts, his gaze lingered on the panties, a symbol of his unspoken obsession. He felt a pang of guilt, a twinge of shame at the intensity of his desires. Yet, he couldn't deny the exhilaration, the rush that came with the forbidden. His fingers traced the lace trim, a ghost of a touch, his mind filled with fantasies that bordered on obsession

He carefully placed the black panties with lace trim on the desk, his fingers tracing the delicate fabric as if it were a precious treasure. Setting his bag back down on the floor, his eyes lingered on them for a moment, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips. Turning his attention to the computer, closing the folder he had opened and moving his mouse to a different folder; he opened it, it was filled with photos of her in more intimate settings. They were snapshots of her daily routine, mundane yet intimate moments captured without her knowledge. He clicked through them slowly, savoring each image of her getting undressed, her naked form, and even pictures from her shower.

As he gazed at her photos, a soft sigh escaped his lips. "My beautiful baby," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. To him, she was perfection, a vision of purity and innocence that he felt compelled to protect and possess.

His piercing blueish eyes fixated on the object before him, the black panties with a delicate lace trim, a relic of his relentless obsession. As he reached out to touch them, his fingers trembled with a mixture of desire and restraint, a testament to the tumultuous emotions raging within him.

"Fuck... if only you knew what you do to me..." His voice, a low whisper, barely audible in the quietude of the room, carried the weight of his longing. Each syllable dripped with fervor, a confession uttered to the silent darkness, a futile attempt to convey the depth of his obsession.

His hand hovered over the panties, trembling with anticipation, as if drawn by an invisible force. With a hesitant touch, he traced the delicate lace, his fingertips grazing the fabric with a reverence reserved for sacred relics. The mere sight of them ignited a fire within him, stroking the flames of desire that threatened to consume him whole. The room seemed to close in around him as he struggled to contain the rising tide of arousal coursing through his veins. His breaths came in shallow gasps, each inhalation laden with the heady scent of lust and longing. With a shaky exhale, he leaned closer, his senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating allure of the panties before him.

His hand moved instinctively to his belt, fingers fumbling with the buckle as he sought to free himself from the constraints of reality. The leather yielded under his touch, releasing him from its grasp with a soft click that echoed in the silence of the room. With trembling hands, he unbuttoned his pants, the fabric yielding to his touch with a reluctant sigh. As he slid the zipper down, the cool rush of air against his skin sent shivers down his spine, a stark reminder of the vulnerability that lay beneath his stoic facade. With each movement, he felt himself unraveling, the barriers he had erected against his desires crumbling in the face of overwhelming temptation. A sharp intake of breath escaped his lips as he freed himself from his pants, the weight of his arousal pressing against the fabric of his boxers.

Slipping his hand beneath the waistband of his boxers, Jonathan closed his eyes, lost in a world of pleasure. The intimate touch of his hand against his skin sent waves of ecstasy coursing through his body, mingling with the sharp sting of desire that burned within him. He couldn't help but let out a soft whimper, a sound that was both desperate and exhilarating in its intensity.

"H-ha..." His voice was barely a whisper, choked with emotion as he struggled to contain the overwhelming sensations that threatened to overwhelm him. In that moment, he felt more alive than he ever had before, his senses heightened to a fever pitch as he surrendered himself completely to the ecstasy of the moment. He hadn’t even started yet…

With a sense of urgency bordering on desperation, he freed himself from the confines of his clothing, exposing himself to the cool air of the room. His cock throbbed with anticipation, aching for the touch that would bring him release. With trembling hands, Jonathan wrapped his hands around his length, relishing in the sensation of his own touch. His thumb traced the length of his shaft, then the oh so sensitive slit of his that was dripping with pre-cum; this eliciting a low moan of pleasure that escaped his lips unbidden. Removing his glasses with practiced ease, Jonathan set them aside on his desk, allowing his vision to blur as he surrendered himself to the darkness that surrounded him, He closed his eyes, and occasionally opening them, but mainly he liked surrendering himself to the exquisite torment of his own desires. The only light being from his computer screen with her nude photos.

With a sense of urgency bordering on desperation, Jonathan brought his hand to his face, covering his mouth in a feeble attempt to stifle the sounds that threatened to escape. He knew he was loud when it came to this, his pleasure echoing off the walls of his apartment like a symphony of depravity. But when it came to her, the noise was deafening. With practiced ease, Jonathan's hand moved up and down his twitching shaft, each stroke driving him closer to the brink of ecstasy. He knew what he liked when he was in this position, his movements precise and calculated, fueled by a hunger that knew no bounds. And as he lost himself in the rhythm of his own pleasure, he felt a sense of liberation wash over him, freeing him from the constraints of his own guilt and shame.

"F-fuck... I love you so fuckin’ much, baby..." Jonathan murmured, it seemed quieter since he was covering his mouth, but nevertheless his voice was hoarse with desire. The words tumbled from his lips like a prayer, a desperate plea for the woman who haunted his every dream. In that moment, she was all he could think of, her image seared into his mind's eye with a clarity that bordered on obsession.

With a mixture of desire and apprehension, Jonathan reached out, his hand no longer covering his mouth; fuck he sounded so pathetic when he jerked off to her, his hand trembling slightly as it made contact with the fabric. He brought the panties to his face, inhaling deeply, savoring the scent that lingered upon them. His breath caught in his throat as he closed his eyes, lost in the intoxicating aroma. He moaned softly, the sound muffled by the fabric pressed against his mouth, a crude testament to the depths of his depravity. And in that moment, Jonathan knew only one thing: he would do whatever it took to make her his, forever and always.

His eyes, dark and intense, were fixed on the black panties with delicate lace trim pressed against his mouth. The fabric muffled his moans, but the intensity of his desire was palpable. Each breath he took was filled with the intoxicating scent of the woman who occupied his every thought, driving him to the brink of madness. His hand moved with a practiced rhythm, stroking his throbbing cock with increasing fervor. The sensation of the lace against his lips sent shivers down his spine, heightening his arousal to an almost unbearable level. His movements, once slow and controlled, began to grow erratic and desperate. He could never last long when he thought of her, but his stamina was the last thing on his mind.

“A-ah~..ngh..fuckin’ hell,” Jonathan gasped, his voice a strained whisper against the fabric. His eyes fluttered shut, rolling back into his head as he felt the familiar build-up of release. His body trembled with anticipation, every muscle tense as he edged closer and closer to the brink.

With a sudden, fevered motion, Jonathan tore the panties from his face, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The cool air hit his flushed skin, a stark contrast to the heat coursing through his veins. He wrapped the delicate fabric around his twitching cock, his hips bucking wildly as he surrendered to the overwhelming waves of pleasure. His grip tightened, the lace digging into his flesh as he pumped faster, each stroke bringing him closer to the inevitable. His mind was a whirlwind of desire and obsession, each thought consumed by her image. He could see her in his mind’s eye, the way she moved, the way she looked at him with a mixture of fear and something unspoken. It drove him wild, pushing him further into the depths of his dark cravings.

As his movements became more frantic, Jonathan's breath hitched, his body tensing as he reached the precipice. “Fuck... I’m so close,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice rough and strained. His hips bucked erratically, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure through his entire being.

The sensation of the lace against his skin was almost too much to bear, the friction heightening his arousal to a fever pitch. His hand moved with a desperate urgency, each stroke pushing him closer to the edge. He could feel the pressure building, a tight coil of heat in his core ready to snap. With a final, forceful thrust, Jonathan cried out, his voice a mix of pleasure and anguish. His body convulsed, the release hitting him like a tidal wave, washing over him with a blinding intensity. Ropes upon ropes of hot, sticky cum spilled out from his twitching cock, coating the pretty fabric of the black panties with an almost obscene abundance. The once pristine lace was now sullied, a stark contrast to its delicate beauty. His free hand's nails dug into the wood of his desk, leaving deep, angry marks as he rode out the waves of his climax. Enough of his release filled the fabric that it began to seep through, dripping slowly onto the floor below his desk in thick, viscous droplets.

"F-fuck... f-fuck..." Jonathan muttered, his voice barely more than a strained whisper. The words were laced with a raw, guttural intensity, each syllable a reflection of his spent state. His eyes fluttered shut, and for a moment, he was lost in the afterglow, his mind adrift in a sea of hazy satisfaction. He clutched the panties tightly, the fabric now damp with his release, a tangible symbol of his unrelenting desire.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, Jonathan slumped back in his chair, his body spent and trembling. His breath came in shallow gasps, his mind slowly returning to reality. The room seemed to close in around him, the shadows deepening as he lay in the aftermath of his desire. He glanced down at the panties still wrapped around his softening cock, a pang of guilt cutting through the haze of his satisfaction. The reality of his actions hit him with a cold clarity, the weight of his obsession pressing down on him like a heavy shroud. But even in the depths of his guilt, he knew he could not stop. The allure of her presence, the thought of making her his, was too powerful to resist. Jonathan’s fingers trembled as he carefully unwound the panties from his semi-soft cock, his touch almost reverent. His eyes closed, a mixture of longing and despair etched across his features.

“Why do you haunt me so?” he whispered into the silence, his voice barely audible. The question hung in the air, unanswered, a testament to his torment. He knew that his desire for her was twisted, his actions unforgivable, yet he could not bring himself to stop. The darkness within him was too deep, too consuming.

In the months that had passed since the incident with her panties, Jonathan’s obsession had only deepened, festering like an untreated wound. His thoughts, once rational and calculated, had become a chaotic jumble of desire and fixation, driven by a love so twisted that it consumed every waking moment. He was a man possessed, his mind a labyrinth of dark fantasies and delusions, each one more depraved than the last. He would sit for hours at his desk after he had just spent hours at his office; the glow of his computer screen casting eerie shadows across his gaunt features as he pored over new and old images and now videos of her, all collected from the hidden cameras he had so meticulously placed. The sight of her, even in the most mundane of moments, was enough to send a shiver of pleasure down his spine. He would watch her laugh, cry, sleep, and live her life, all while he remained an invisible presence, a ghost haunting her every move.

Jonathan's apartment had become a shrine to her, every surface covered with photographs, notes, and mementos that he had painstakingly gathered. He had memorized every detail of her face, the curve of her smile, the sound of her voice. It was an obsession that knew no bounds, a hunger that could never be sated. And as his infatuation grew, so too did his desperation.

He knew she was aware of him, she’d most definitely had found the cameras he somehow put in her apartment so many months ago. It was the way she had suddenly moved apartments, but only to unknowingly end up in the same complex as him, she didn’t know where he lived but he had his proof that she knew enough to just up and move. The discovery of the cameras had been a setback, because he wouldn’t get those back but, it all uploaded to his computer at the end of every day, so he didn’t lose anything really, but it had only fueled his determination. He had to become more careful, more cunning in his efforts to watch her, to protect her from the dangers that she might encounter from being so perfect. However it was her fault, really, for not being thorough enough in her search for his eyes, she deserved it in his eyes.

"You're mine," Jonathan would whisper to himself, his voice a low, dangerous murmur as he watched her on his screen. "You just don't know it yet."

His need for attention, for acknowledgment of his existence, had driven him to new lengths. He had begun buying her gifts, leaving them at her door or in her mailbox with meticulously crafted notes. The thrill of seeing her take them inside, even if she never opened them, was intoxicating. It was a game, a dance of shadows and secrets, and he was determined to win. Each gift was chosen with care, a testament to his knowledge of her likes and desires. Clothes, jewelry, food, and even more intimate items like sex toys found their way to her doorstep. He knew her better than anyone, better than she knew herself. It was a twisted form of courtship, a display of his devotion, his love. And yet, there was always the risk of discovery. He had to be careful, precise in his placement of new cameras. He couldn't afford another mistake. The thought of her finding out, of her rejecting him outright, was too much to bear. He needed her, craved her in a way that defied logic and reason.

He would spend hours planning his next move, his next gift, each one a symbol of his undying love. He imagined her finding the packages, her expression unreadable as she carried them inside. Did she ever wonder who they were from? Did she ever think of him, even for a moment? The thought was enough to send a thrill of excitement through him, his heart pounding in his chest.

"One day, you'll understand," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "One day, you'll see how much I love you."

But for now, he remained in the shadows, his presence a constant, unseen force in her life. He would protect her, watch over her, even if she didn't realize it. He would do anything, everything, to make her his. And as he sat at his desk, surrounded by the trappings of his obsession, Jonathan knew that he would never stop. He couldn't. She was his, in every way that mattered. And so, the little game continued, a dance of shadows and secrets, a twisted love story that only he could understand. With each passing day, his obsession grew, feeding on the darkness within him, driving him to new heights of desperation and desire. He was a man on the edge, teetering on the brink of madness, but he didn't care. As long as she was his, nothing else mattered. In the end, it was her fault. She should have been more careful. She should have seen the signs, noticed the cameras, understood the depth of his love. But she hadn't, and now she was his, whether she knew it or not. And Jonathan Crane, the man who loved her more than life itself, would do whatever it took to keep it that way. Forever.

Tonight, as she closed up the café where she worked, Jonathan knew it was the perfect time to finally confront her. Him knowing her work schedule was so helpful. He had waited long enough, his patience fraying at the edges. He watched from the shadows as she bid farewell to her coworker, her smile a beacon of light in his otherwise dark world. She locked the door behind them, turning her attention to the kitchen, methodically checking inventory and ensuring everything was in its place. Making sure that everything that needs to be locked, is locked. Jonathan's breath quickened as he moved silently into the café, lock picking is easier than most people would imagine; with his heart pounding in his chest. He felt a rush of adrenaline, a heady mix of fear and excitement. This was the moment he had been waiting for, the moment he would finally see her face in real time and not just through the lens of his hidden cameras. He sat down in the dimly lit corner of the cafe, his eyes fixed on the doorway through which she would soon emerge. It was the doorway that was open with no door and you could enter by being behind the counter.

She appeared, her expression serene as she finished her tasks, unaware of the danger lurking nearby. Jonathan's eyes drank in the sight of her, his breath hitching in his throat. She was even more beautiful in person, her presence intoxicating. He took a step forward, the floorboards creaking under his weight. Her head snapped up, eyes wide with surprise and fear.

"Who... who are you?" she stammered, her voice trembling.

Jonathan took another step closer, his gaze intense. "I think you know who I am," he said, his voice low and menacing. "I've watched you for so long, admired you from afar. You were always so close, yet so far away."

So that’s what he looked like, she thought he would look worse, but back to the task at hand there is a deranged stalker in her presence. Her eyes darted around the café, searching for an escape. He’s practically in the way of it; "Stay away from me," she warned, her voice gaining strength. "I don't want anything to do with you."

Jonathan's expression hardened, his jaw clenching. "You don't understand," he said, his tone desperate. "I love you. I've always loved you. You belong to me."

"No, I don't," she shot back, her fear turning to anger. "You don't know anything about me. You're sick and twisted."

He flinched at her words, but his resolve remained unshaken. "I know everything about you," he insisted. "I've seen you at your most vulnerable, your most intimate. I know you better than anyone else. I love you…”

"That's not love," she said, shaking her head. "That's obsession. It's not the same thing." She gritted her teeth; “You look pretty smart so it’s depressing that you don’t know the difference” Attitude, he would not like that.

Jonathan's eyes darkened, his hands curling into fists. "You don't get to decide what this is," he growled. "You don't get to push me away. I've done everything for you, watched over you, protected you. And this is how you repay me?"

She stared him down, her breath slowly starting to come in shallow gasps. "No," she whispered. "I won't be a prisoner to your fuckin’ delusions."

Jonathan started walking over in her direction, his presence imposing. "You already are," he murmured, his eyes locked onto hers. "And there's no escaping it."

Her eyes flashed with defiance, her body tense with resolve. "Watch me," she said, her voice steady. What was she gonna do, scream; The fuck was that supposed to do?

For a moment, neither spoke, the silence between them a palpable force. Jonathan's mind raced, torn between his overwhelming desire to possess her and the dawning realization that his actions were driving her further away. His hands trembled at his sides, the barely contained energy threatening to spill over. He watched her every move, the subtle shift of her weight, the way her eyes darted towards the small doorway. She was looking for an escape, and he knew it was now or never. In a fluid motion that belied the severity of his intentions, Jonathan sprang into action. Despite the constraining suit, his movements were swift and precise, a testament to his unyielding determination. He darted behind the counter, his heart pounding in his chest as he made it just in time to cut off her path. With a practiced ease, he hopped over the small swinging saloon door that separated them, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Baby, I can do this all night,” he said, his voice a low, seductive drawl, tinged with a hint of madness. His breath came in ragged gasps, the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he closed the distance between them. The endearment rolled off his tongue with a twisted sense of affection, a stark contrast to the cold, calculating glint in his eyes.

She stood frozen, her body tensed with the urge to flee, but he was already too close. Jonathan's presence was overwhelming, a dark, looming shadow that seemed to consume the very air around them. He could see the conflict in her eyes, the struggle between fear and defiance. She wanted to leave, to escape the web he had so meticulously woven around her, but he was in her way, a living, breathing barrier that she could not overcome.

"Don't be afraid," Jonathan murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I only want what's best for you. Can't you see that?" He reached out, his fingers brushing against her arm, a touch that was both tender and possessive. His gaze softened, but the underlying intensity remained, a stark reminder of the darkness that lay beneath his calm exterior.

She flinched at his touch, but there was nowhere to go, no escape from the prison he had created. Jonathan's heart ached at her reaction, the realization that his love – was the very thing that repelled her. But he couldn't stop, wouldn't stop. His obsession had taken root, a dark, twisted seed that had grown beyond his control.

"You don't have to fight me," he continued, his tone soothing yet insistent. "We can be together, just like I've always dreamed. You and me, forever." His words hung in the air, a chilling promise of a future she wanted no part of.

As he stepped closer, Jonathan's eyes roamed over her face, drinking in every detail. The way her lips parted in silent protest, the flicker of fear in her eyes, the defiant set of her jaw. She was beautiful, even in her defiance, and it only fueled his desire to possess her completely.

"Don't you see?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. "You belong with me. I've waited so long for this moment, planned every detail. You can't leave me now." His words were a plea, a desperate attempt to make her understand the depth of his feelings, the lengths he was willing to go to keep her by his side.

She took a step back, her back pressing against the counter, trapped between him and the unyielding surface. Jonathan's heart raced, the thrill of the chase mingling with the dread of losing her. He reached out again, his hand cupping her cheek with a gentleness that belied the madness in his eyes.

"I promise, I'll take care of you," he said, his voice filled with a twisted sincerity. "No one will ever hurt you, you'll be safe with me, always." The words were meant to comfort, but they only served to deepen the chasm between them.

Her eyes filled with tears, a silent testament to the hopelessness of her situation. Jonathan's heart clenched at the sight, a painful reminder of the cost of his obsession. But he couldn't let her go, not now, not ever.

"You don't have to cry," he murmured, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "I'll make it all better, I promise. Just give me a chance." His voice cracked with emotion, the façade of control slipping as he confronted the reality of his actions.

She shook her head, a silent refusal that cut through him like a knife. Jonathan's jaw tightened, the anger simmering beneath the surface threatening to boil over. He had done everything for her, sacrificed so much, and yet she still resisted. It was maddening, infuriating, and it only fueled his determination to make her see the truth.

"Why can't you understand?" he demanded, his voice rising in frustration. "Everything I've done, I've done for you. To protect you, to keep you safe. And I’ve provided gifts for you..Why can't you see that?" His words echoed through the empty room, a desperate plea for understanding that would never come.

She stood her ground, her eyes locked onto his with a mixture of defiance and fear. Jonathan's heart ached at the sight, torn between his love for her and the realization that his actions were driving her further away. But he couldn't stop, couldn't let her go. She was his, and he would do whatever it took to keep her by his side.

With a final, desperate plea, Jonathan stepped closer, his hand reaching out to take hers. "Please," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Just give me a chance. I can make you happy, I promise. Just stay with me." His words hung in the air, a fragile hope that threatened to shatter with her next breath.

But as she looked into his eyes, Jonathan saw the truth. She would never be his, not in the way he wanted. And yet, he couldn't let her go, couldn't relinquish the hold she had on his heart. With a sense of resignation, he realized that he would do whatever it took to keep her, even if it meant losing himself in the process. In that moment, as the weight of his obsession threatened to crush him, Jonathan made a silent vow. He would protect her, keep her safe, no matter the cost. And if that meant holding her against her will, then so be it. She was his, and he would never let her go. His hand reached out, cupping her cheek with a gentleness that seemed almost out of place given the madness flickering in his eyes. He leaned in slightly and gave her a kiss on the lips, practically forcing her to kiss back with how rough it actually was compared to how he thought he was doing it; soft and calm. Yeah my ass.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not going to let you leave me,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing. The words were both an apology and a vow, laced with an unspoken promise of what was to come. He let go of her face and sighed;

Before she could react, Jonathan's grip tightened, his fingers wrapping around her delicate wrists with surprising strength. He raised her arms above her head, pinning them against the cold, unforgiving wall. His body pressed against hers, trapping her in place as his knee insinuated itself between her legs, applying just enough pressure to elicit a gasp. His heart pounded with a mix of arousal and anticipation, each beat echoing the inevitable conclusion of his carefully laid plans. With his free hand, Jonathan reached into the inner pocket of his suit, extracting a small syringe. His lips curled into a smile as he brought it to his mouth, removing the cap with his teeth before spitting it onto the ground. The sound was almost insignificant, but it marked the point of no return.

“Shhh... it’s okay... just don’t move around too much,” he murmured, his voice a soothing caress. He leaned closer, his breath warm against her skin as he searched for a suitable vein in her neck. The syringe hovered for a moment, a silent promise of what was to come.

As the needle punctured her skin, Jonathan’s eyes never left her face. He watched the mixture of fear toxin and a sedative flow into her bloodstream, his expression one of clinical detachment and twisted satisfaction. He withdrew the syringe slowly, almost reverently, before slipping it back into his pocket.

“Hey, it’s okay... just go to sleep,” he cooed, his voice softening as he cupped her face once more. He gazed into her eyes, watching as they began to glaze over, her resistance waning. She looked like a ghost, her complexion pale and her movements sluggish as the concoction took hold.

Jonathan supported her weight as she slumped against him, his arms encircling her in a twisted embrace. He could feel her body relax, the tension draining away as the drugs did their work. A part of him felt a pang of regret for having to subdue her in such a manner, but his obsession with her outweighed any moral qualms.

In the dim light of his apartment, Jonathan meticulously straightened the cluttered space, each object a testament to his dark obsession. His heart raced with a mixture of anticipation and dread as he glanced over at the woman lying unconscious on his bed. The fear toxin and a sedative mixture he had administered ensured she would remain in a deep, dreamless slumber for hours yet. This gave him time to prepare, to transform his chaotic haven into something that might, at first glance, seem less threatening. His hands moved swiftly, arranging and rearranging, removing any overt signs of his fixation. He knew he had to be careful—he couldn’t afford to frighten her any more than his actions already had. The apartment was filled with photos, trinkets, and personal effects of hers that he had collected over time, but he placed them in less conspicuous places, out of her immediate line of sight.

Jonathan took a deep breath, feeling the familiar tension knotting in his chest. His thoughts were a whirl of conflicting emotions. He needed her to understand, to see beyond the fear and recognize his love. He wasn’t a monster, not in his own eyes. He was a man driven by a consuming passion, a need to protect and possess her. He turned his attention back to her, lying so peacefully despite the circumstances. Her wrist was cuffed to the headboard, a necessary precaution. The chain allowed her some movement, but escape was impossible. He had made sure of that. His gaze softened as he watched her breathe, each rise and fall of her chest drawing him in deeper.

“Knew it’d come to this, didn’t you, Jonathan?” he murmured to himself, his voice a low rasp. The accent that clung to his words was faint, a vestige of his past. “You always knew.”

He moved closer, seating himself beside her on the bed. The urge to touch her was overwhelming, but he restrained himself. Not like this. It had to be right. She had to be awake, aware, and, in time, willing. His fingers itched to trace the lines of her face, to feel the warmth of her skin, but he resisted. He wouldn’t get anything out of it if she wasn’t there with him, truly there. Turning away from the bed, Jonathan walked quietly to the bathroom. The light flickered on with a soft click, casting a warm glow across the tiled floor. He leaned against the sink, gazing at his reflection in the mirror. His sharp features softened in the gentle light, the lines of stress easing from his brow. His mind wandered briefly, contemplating the events of the day and the challenges that lay ahead. The day had been long and arduous, filled with the tension of his illicit activities and the meticulous cleaning up afterward. But now, as he moved through the familiar ritual of preparing for bed, a strange tranquility settled over him.

After shedding his clothes, Jonathan stepped into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over his tense muscles. The steam rose around him, enveloping him in a cocoon of warmth and silence. He closed his eyes, allowing his mind to wander. Thoughts of her flitted through his consciousness, a mix of longing and satisfaction. She was here, in his apartment, subdued by the fear toxin and sedative mixture. The thrill of having her so close, so vulnerable, sent a shiver of excitement through him. Finishing his shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and moved to the sink to brush his teeth. The minty freshness of the toothpaste was a sharp contrast to the dark thoughts swirling in his mind. He looked at his reflection, his piercing blue eyes staring back at him with a mix of determination and desire. Jonathan was a man driven by his obsessions, and tonight, those obsessions were within arm’s reach.

He made his way back to his room, the soft sound of his footsteps the only noise in the otherwise silent apartment. She lay on his bed, her breathing steady and deep, still under the influence of the sedative. The sight of her, so peaceful and unguarded, stirred something deep within him. He turned off the lights, plunging the room into darkness, save for the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains. Jonathan took off his glasses and set them on the table next to the bed, a small gesture that felt strangely intimate. He climbed into bed beside her, the sheets cool against his skin. He pulled the covers over both of them and gently maneuvered her so that she was straddling him, her body fitting perfectly against his. His arms wrapped around her back, the chain of the handcuffs clinking softly as he did so.

He buried his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent deeply. It was intoxicating, a heady mix of her natural fragrance and the faint remnants of her perfume. The sensation overwhelmed him, filling him with a deep sense of satisfaction. This was what he had dreamed of, the culmination of his darkest desires.

“Fuck, this is everything I dreamed of,” he whispered, his voice a low, gravelly murmur against her skin. He could feel the steady beat of her heart against his chest, a rhythmic reminder of her presence.

As he lay there, holding her close, his mind raced with thoughts and emotions. He reveled in the feeling of her weight on top of him, the warmth of her body against his. There was a possessiveness to his touch, a silent declaration that she was his and his alone. Despite the restraints of the handcuffs, he felt a sense of closeness that he had never experienced before. He wondered what she would think when she woke up, how she would react to finding herself in his bed, in his embrace. There was a part of him that relished the thought of her fear, the way her eyes would widen with realization. But there was also a part of him that yearned for her acceptance, for her to understand the depth of his feelings.

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered softly, as if she could hear him in her unconscious state. “I’ll take care of you.”

Jonathan’s mind wandered back to the moment he had first seen her, the instant attraction that had sparked his obsession. He had watched her from afar, studying her movements, learning her habits. It had started innocently enough, a mere curiosity. But it had quickly grown into something much more intense, a need that consumed him. Now, as he lay with her in his arms, he felt a sense of fulfillment that he had never known before. It was as if all the pieces of his life had fallen into place, and he was exactly where he was meant to be. The darkness that had always lingered at the edges of his mind seemed to recede, replaced by a profound sense of contentment.

He tightened his hold on her slightly, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his fingertips. He could feel her breath against his neck, a gentle reminder of her presence. The connection between them was palpable, a tangible thread that bound them together. Jonathan knew that this moment was fleeting, that the reality of their situation would come crashing down eventually. But for now, he allowed himself to bask in the illusion of intimacy, to indulge in the fantasy that she was his in every sense of the word.

“I’ll protect you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “No one will ever hurt you while you’re with me.”

As the night wore on, Jonathan remained awake, content to simply hold her and listen to the sound of her breathing. There was a peace in the silence, a solace in the stillness. He had spent so much of his life in turmoil, driven by his fears and anxieties. But here, with her in his arms, he felt a sense of calm that he had never known before. The darkness outside began to give way to the soft light of dawn, casting a gentle glow over the room. Jonathan could see the faint outlines of her features in the early morning light, the curve of her cheek, the softness of her lips. She looked so serene, so untouched by the horrors of the world. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, a silent promise that he would keep her safe. No matter what happened, he would always be there for her, a constant presence in her life. And as he closed his eyes, finally succumbing to the pull of sleep, he knew that he would never let her go.

Author’s Notes:

I genuinely believe he would cum in his pants if she even breathed, spoke, smiled, pointed, or barely touching him; touching him like rubbing shoulders with a stranger in an elevator type of touch.

Also he would definitely paint one of his hands in the nail polish she used. Helps submerge himself in the reality he so desperately wants to be real.

Also also, this was delayed a bit because I have this opened on my computer as well as on my phone and I saved it on one end and then it didn’t transpire on the other so I closed it out and…it just put me back pretty far.

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anushaarticles · 1 year

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Children's Ministry or Sunday School is proved to be very important for the spiritual growth. We see 4 important reasons explained in this article.

#short christian articles #inspirational christian articles #news articles about christianity #bible articles topics #Christian articles online #study note bible #virtual bible study groups #best online bible study for beginners #biblical online courses #good online bible study #top christian sites #in depth bible study online #new testament bible study online #bible for notes #online christian bible study groups

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violainebriat · 6 months

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It's a bit weird typing out a full post here on tumblr. I used to be one of these artists that mostly focused on posting only images, the least amount of opinions/thoughts I could share, the better. Today, the art world online feels weird, not only because of AI, but also the algorithms on every platform and the general way our craft is getting replaced for close to 0 dollars. This website was a huge instrument in kickstarting my career as a professional artist, it was an inspiring place were artists shared their art and where we could make friends with anyone in the world, in any industries. It was pretty much the place that paved the way as a social media website outside of Facebook, where you could search art through tags etc. Anyhow, Tumblr still has a place in my heart even if all artists moved away from it after the infamous nsfw ban (mostly to Instagram and twitter). And now we're all playing a game of whack-a-mole trying to figure out if the social media platform we're using is going to sell their user content to AI / deep learning (looking at you reddit, going into stocks). On the Tumblr side, Matt Mullenweg's interviews and thoughts on the platform shows he's down to use AI, and I guess it could help create posts faster but then again, you have to click through multiple menus to protect your art (and writing) from being scraped. It's really kind of sad to have to be on the defensive with posting art/writing online. It doesn't even reflect my personal philosophy on sharing content. I've always been a bit of a "punk" thinking if people want to bootleg my work, it's like free advertisement and a testament to people liking what I created, so I've never really watermarked anything and posted fairly high-res version of my work. I don't even think my art is big enough to warrant the defensiveness of glazing/nightshading it, but the thought of it going through a program to be grinded into a data mush to be only excreted out as the ghost of its former self is honestly sort of deadening.

Finally, the most defeating trend is the quantity of nonsense and low-quality content that's being fed to the internet, made a million times easier with the use of AI. I truly feel like we're living what Neil Postman saw happening over 40 years ago in "amusing ourselves to death"(the brightness of this man's mind is still unrivaled in my eyes).

I guess this is my big rant to tell y'all now I'm gonna be posting crunchy art because Nightshade and Glaze basically make your crispy art look like a low-res JPEG, and I feel like an idiot for doing it but I'm considering it an act of low effort resistance against data scraping. If I can help "poison" data scrapping by wasting 5 minutes of my life to spit out a crunchy jpeg before posting, listen, it's not such a bad price to pay. Anyhow check out my new sticker coming to my secret shop really soon, and how he looks before and after getting glazed haha....

#ai protection #my art #violaine briat

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von2dutch · 4 months

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Sugar baby | Jey Uso

Chapter Five

Synopsis: Sex is not a big deal. ...You can have a no-strings-attached arrangement with someone you don’t care about.

Pairing: Jey Uso x Black Female reader | word count: 3.1k | Warning: smut, toxic behavior, protected sex | 18+ ONLY

Hey my loves! This is part five to three series near the end and I just want to say I thank you all so much for reading and enjoying it. God bless 🤎.

Series master list

Tag list

@shayaaaaaaa

@trashbin-nie

@paigereeder

@whatdoeseverybodywant

@empressdede

@superpietom

@bebesobrielo

@solefae

@skyesthebomb

@reci1996

@christinabae

@xseetdellzx

Lastly, enjoy

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Last night I cried, tossed and turned

Woke up with dry eyes

My mind was racing, feet were pacing

Lord, help me, please tell me what I have gotten into

Ran my three miles to clear my mind

As the hauntingly emotional notes of "Emotional Rollercoaster" by Vivian Green filled the air, Dakota huddled in the bathtub, her legs pulled close to her chest, sobbing uncontrollably as tears of despair streamed down her cheeks.

It had been a full five weeks since the incident, and her mental state had steadily deteriorated. The world appeared devoid of vibrancy in her perception, leaving her submerged in an unrelenting state of anguish and hopelessness.

Dakota had fled back to her hometown, Chicago, to seek refuge with her grandmother. She couldn't bear the thought of staying in her apartment where Jey could easily find her, and the mere sight of him filled her with anger and resentment. The distance from Jey also served as an escape from the constant barrage of calls and texts from Joshua, whom she had tried in vain to cut off all contact with. Despite her efforts, Joshua's persistent attempts to reach her were like a relentless wave, always finding a way to push through her defenses. She hated him.

Dakota's mental state was in shambles, and the online exposure of her private pictures had left her feeling humiliated and defeated. The once confident and radiant woman had succumbed to a deep depression, her self-image shattered into a million pieces. She felt violated and hopeless, unable to shake off the shame and judgment that now weighed heavily on her soul.

Depression had slithered into the depths of Dakota's being and settled in, refusing to be shaken. She embraced its cold embrace, isolating herself from the world around her, turning even her closest friend Jasmine away. The only person who had access to her was her grandmother, who provided a safe haven for her to retreat to. Anger mingled with her depression, fueling a bitter and resentful fire within her. She was overwhelmed by her emotions, struggling to breathe under the weight of her emotional turmoil.

The only thing she wondered was why? The one person she thought loved her so much and respected her put her private images online to possibly sent to someone to hurt her. She couldn’t bear to believe but it was true in her mind. Jey the one person who cherished her with so much love and affection crushed her in the most gut wrenching way possible. She couldn’t understand how someone who hurt her so bad she still loved someone she wanted to hate so bad she still loved so deeply.

Yesterday, I told myself I was gonna be okay

Gonna start a new day, be truly happy

I was gonna take control of me

But eventually reality hit me mentally, physically, emotionally

And I opened my eyes and realized

As Dakota sat still in her bathtub, her knees tucked up against her chest. The cold, porcelain surface felt like a sharp contrast to the numbness that had settled over her soul. Her eyes were red and puffy from countless tears shed in sorrow and heartbreak. The warmth of the water that enveloped her body was the only comfort she could find in a world that seemed to have turned against her. Naked and vulnerable, she stared listlessly into the water, a silent testament to her emotional turmoil.

"Just why?" echoed through the bathroom as Dakota sobbed, tears streaming down her face without an end in sight. The pain and betrayal she felt were etched onto her features as she repeated the question, her voice cracking with anguish. She couldn't understand what could have possibly driven Jey to hurt her in such a devastating way. The thought of him sharing her intimate pictures online felt like a knife twisting in her heart, shredding whatever trust and love she had left.

Just why?

Before Dakota could do anything else Jasmine stormed into the bathroom, her eyes wide with fear and determination. She found Dakota sitting in the bathtub, her body curled up with her knees against her chest. "Dakota stop!" Jasmine shouted, her voice a mix of desperation and firmness. "You're not going to do this to yourself." As she knelt down beside the tub, she grabbed Dakota's trembling hands, her grip firm but gentle. "I’m not letting you go down this path again Kota stop please.”

“Jas just leave me alone.” Dakota sniffed , keeping her eyes on the wall infront of her not daring to look Jasmine in her eyes.

Jasmine's words sliced through the air, sharp and demanding. "No, you're my best friend, Dakota. Do you honestly think I'm going to let you drown yourself?" The tone of her voice was filled with determination and concern, leaving no room for argument. She stood there, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and worry, refusing to let Dakota give in to her despair.

Jasmine's tone was firm and resolute, her eyes fixed on Dakota with a mixture of urgency and determination. "Dakota, get out of this tub now," she commanded. "Or so God help me, I'll drag your ass out of there myself." The threat was clear, and there was no room for negotiation. Jasmine was not going to let her friend give in to her despair.

Jasmine knew all too well the depths of despair that Dakota had sunken into before. She had witnessed her friend's struggles through various trials and tribulations, but nothing quite compared to the time when Dakota lost her mother. Losing the only parent she had left Dakota feeling shattered and alone, like a ship lost at sea with no one to cling to for comfort. Jasmine understood the weight of that loss and the toll it had taken on her friend's delicate mental state.

Jasmine finally convinced Dakota to get out of the tub, wrapping her in a large, fluffy towel. She led Dakota towards her bedroom, sitting her down on the edge of the bed. "You need to snap out of this," Jasmine said firmly, her voice filled with a mixture of anger and concern. "You can't keep punishing yourself like this."

“Jasmine what the fuck else am I supposed to do huh? My life is over I don’t want to be here I love someone that fucked me over so what else should I be happy about to stay here.”

“Dakota stop that shit! You have many reason why you deserve to be here not only because of me but because of everyone that loves and cares about you think about your grandma, think about your passion for fashion but most importantly your self.”

Jasmine's words hung in the air, the weight of her truth impossible for Dakota to ignore. "Stop punishing yourself for things you can't control," she implored. "Me and you both know Jey hadn’t done that Kota that man loves you and I’ve seen it with my own eyes he loves you.” The conviction in her voice was palpable, as if trying to shake Dakota out of her despair and make her see the truth of the situation.

Dakota turned to face Jasmine, her eyes flashing with a mix of disbelief and anger. "You're taking his side now?" she accused, her voice trembling with emotion. Her hands clenched the towel tightly around her body, as if trying to shield herself from the world.

Jasmine met Dakota's gaze, her own expression resolute. "No, I'm not taking his side," she replied, her tone steady. "But I won't watch you drown in this cycle of self-blame and despair."

“Dakota I just think you’re taking this too far without hearing him out.”

“Hear him out for what Jasmine! What could he fucking possibly say oh he’s sorry?.” Dakota laughed historically as she found it funny in a dark way. “Sorry huh? Fuck him I don’t give a damn what he has to say I’m done.”

Jasmine flinched at the venom in Dakota's voice, her heart aching for her friend. "I'm not asking you to forgive him," she reiterated, her tone gentle.

Dakota's laughter echoed through the room, a harsh, bitter sound. "Sorry? As if that could fix any fucking thing," she mocked, her voice filled with hurt and anger. "I don't give a damn about his apologizes or explanations. I'm done, done with him."

“Kota just hear hi— no Fuck you jasmine.” Dakota shouted startling her grandmother that was next door to her room. Dakota walked closer to Jasmine staring into her eyes.

“Fuck me?”

“Yes! You.”

“Dakota you’ve lost your fucking mind! I’ve been your best friend for years and the one time I try to tell you that you’re taking things too fucking far it’s fuck me?.” Jasmine snapped her tone hissed and groaned in disbelief as she took a step back.

Dakota's voice rose, filled with raw emotion and unchecked anger, as she yelled, tears streaming down her face. "Oh, well let me guess, you feel companionship for him, huh?" Her voice trembled with pain and frustration. "Well good for fucking you! You and him, him and you, you and fucking him can go to hell!" The words spilled out like venom, pouring out of her like a torrent of suppressed emotions finally unleashed.

The anger in Dakota's voice was palpable as she faced off against Jasmine. "You and everyone else picked him over me!" she yelled, her eyes burning with betrayal. "The one person you've known all your fucking life!"

Jasmine flinched, the hurt and shock visible on her face as Dakota's words hit her like a gut punch. "Dakota, please, just listen..." she tried to interject, but Dakota wasn't done.

The weight of betrayal and hurt was evident in Dakota's voice as she stood in the middle of the room, her cheeks stained with tears. "No!" she cried out, her arm shaking as she gestured emphatically. "Why, Jasmine? Why did he do that to me?"

Jasmine's heart ached, seeing her best friend in such a devastated state. She stepped closer, her own eyes filled with tears. "I-I don't know, Kota," she stammered, her voice choked with emotion.

Jasmine wrapped her arms around Dakota, pulling her into a tight embrace. She rocked her back and forth on the bed, offering comfort and support. The air around them was thick with sadness and grief as Dakota's shoulders shook with silent sobs, her emotions completely frayed and raw.

She was a wreck.

Jasmine held onto Dakota tightly, her arms wrapped around her like a lifeline. The two friends sat silently on the bed, the room enveloped in a heavy silence punctuated only by Dakota's occasional sniffles.

Jasmine finally spoke, her voice soft and gentle. "I know it's tough," she murmured, her hand stroking Dakota's hair soothingly. "But you'll get through this, Kota. I promise."

Dakota sniffed, her voice cracking as she looked up at Jasmine. "How?" she whispered. "How can I trust anyone again after what he did?"

“By putting your trust in god Kota, all we can do is pray.”

A Grandmother’s love

• Instagram close friends

Dakota.Valentine • 50 mins ago

“So are you gonna hide here forever?”

“Huh?” Dakota said as she turned to look away from the tv towards her grandmother as she sat on the couch watching The Wayne brothers.

“I said are you going to hide here forever babygirl?” She asked once more as she stared at Dakota waiting for an answer.

“Well yeah if that’s what it takes.” Dakota shrugged unsure of her answer but confident with it. If this what it took for peace of mind then so be it.

"Suga, running away won't fix your problems," she said again, her voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. "And thinking it'll bring you peace of mind is only going to make things worse."

Dakota's grandmother's words cut through the air, her tone laced with a mixture of love and sternness. She fixed Dakota with a knowing gaze, her eyes reflecting years of wisdom and experience.

Dakota shifted uncomfortably on the couch, feeling the weight of her grandmother's words. She knew she couldn't hide forever, but admitting it was another thing altogether.

Dakota's grandmother continued, her gaze unwavering. "Baby, you may think you're in control by running away, but you're not. You're just digging yourself a deeper hole."

Just then, Dakota's phone buzzed with an incoming call from an unknown number. She rolled her eyes, assuming it was Jasmine trying to reach her.

"Answer it, suga," she urged. "Might be important."

Without much choice, Dakota reached for her phone and hesitantly answered the call. As soon as she answered, the familiar voice on the other end confirmed her suspicions.

"Ko baby," Jey's voice echoed through the receiver, soft and strained.

Dakota's heartbeat quickened, the mix of anger and pain flooding back in an instant. She froze, her mind racing as she held the phone to her ear.

She froze for a moment, her emotions swirling within her. Hearing Jey's voice stirred up a mix of anger and pain that threatened to break her resolve. But then, with a clenched jaw, she mustered all her willpower and pressed the hang-up button, cutting off the call abruptly.

Dakota dropped her phone onto the couch, shaking her head. "He can forget about it," she muttered through gritted teeth. "I'm not falling for his apologies this time."

Her Grandma watched her with a mix of sadness and understanding. She knew the pain and anger were eating away at Dakota, but she also understood that sometimes tough love was necessary.

"Honey, hanging up on him like that won't solve anything," she said gently. "You need to confront this head-on, not run away from it."

Dakota rolled her eyes again, frustration boiling up within her. "It's easy for you to say, Nanny," she retorted, her voice slightly raised. "You're not the one who got betrayed and hurt."

Grandma took a deep breath, her patience visibly wearing thin but her love for Dakota unwavering. "Exactly," she said firmly. "That's why I see this situation more clearly than you do. You're too blinded by your anger to see the truth."

Dakota huffed, her eyes narrowing defiantly. "And what truth is that, huh?" she challenged, her voice dripping with skepticism. "That he really didn't leak those pictures of me online? That he's completely innocent and blameless in all this?"

Grandma regarded her granddaughter with a steely gaze, refusing to back down. "Yes," she said simply. "That's exactly what I believe. You're just too stubborn to consider the possibility."

Dakota scoffed, her frustration mounting. "And how can you possibly believe that? He's the only one who had those pictures, Grandma. It's like you're just blindly trusting him!"

Grandma shook her head, her voice tinged with a mix of disappointment and annoyance. "No, sugar, I'm not blindly trusting him," she corrected. "I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt, something you refuse to do."

Grandma took a deep breath, her tone softened as she recalled the memories. "Girl, don't you remember how he was there for you during your hardest moments?" she reminded Dakota, her voice tinged with nostalgia.

"He helped pay for your mama's funeral, without a second thought. And remember how you called me after you got into a relationship with him? I could hear the excitement in your voice, honey. You were happier than I'd ever heard you."

Grandma's eyes searched Dakota's face, hoping to see some flicker of realization. "And let's not forget about the support he gave you whenever you needed it," she continued, her voice steady. "He was there for you through it all."

Dakota's expression remained defiant, her anger still clouding her judgment. But a tiny crack in her wall of rage appeared, as if Grandma's words had momentarily weakened her defenses.

Her grandma only wanted the best for her but she could tell Dakota’s anger got in the way of that no matter how much pull she tried to ease the situation nothing worked.

He was the love of her granddaughters life she had never seen her so blossomed with love till she met him and now everything was broken to glass that she thought maybe she could fix.

Grandma pounced on that sign of vulnerability, hoping to keep pushing forward. "Baby girl," she said, her tone gentle but firm. "You've always been a fighter, yes, but you also have a good heart. Deep down, you know he didn't do this to hurt you."

Dakota paused, her expression conflicted. There was a hint of uncertainty in her eyes, as if Grandma's words were starting to break through the thick wall of anger she had built around her heart.

Grandma pressed on, sensing that she was getting to her. "Just think about it, darlin'," she pleaded. "Why would he help you through everything if he didn't truly care for you? Why pay for your mama's funeral if his intentions were malicious?"

Dakota's resolve wavered, her shoulders slumping slightly as Grandma's words echoed in her mind.

Grandma leaned forward on the couch, her gaze steady. "You're a smart girl, Dakota," she said firmly. "You know the answers to those questions. But you're just too angry to accept them."

Dakota's eyes darted away, a mixture of anger and uncertainty swirling within her. "But the pictures..." she protested weakly.

Grandma shook her head, gently shutting down Dakota's protest. "Those pictures don't prove anything, darlin'," she said, her voice soft yet firm. "They could have come from anywhere. You're just assuming the worst without even talking to him about it."

Dakota fidgeted on the couch, her defenses weakening more by the minute.

Grandma placed a comforting hand on Dakota's knee, offering a gentle touch. "Baby girl, you have to confront this head-on," she urged. "Instead of running away, you need to talk to him and get to the truth. Only then can you move forward and find some peace."

Dakota chewed on her lip, her expression conflicted. She knew Grandma had a point, but her stubbornness and anger held her back from admitting it. She just wanted to forget him but she couldn’t because she loved him dispite her anger towards him.

Grandma softened her tone even further, trying to appeal to Dakota's emotions. "Think about it, sugar," she pleaded. "You two have been through too much to throw it all away over a misunderstanding. You owe it to yourself to at least talk to him and figure out what really happened."

Dakota's gaze dropped to the floor, her shoulders slumping even further. The fire in her eyes was starting to dim, replaced by a hint of acceptance.

Grandma could sense that Dakota was starting to crack, and she cautiously continued. "And let's not forget that communication is key in any relationship," she said gently. "You can't just shut him out without giving him a chance to explain."

Dakota let out a sigh, her eyes still fixed on the floor. She was visibly struggling with her emotions, the anger and betrayal warring with rationality in her mind.

Grandma noticed the struggle within Dakota and seized the opportunity to push a little further. "You don't even have to forgive him right away," she reassured her. "But give him a chance to explain himself, at least."

Dakota's eyes flickered up for a moment, her guard slowly dropping. She still held onto her anger, but there was a hint of curiosity as well.

Grandma saw the flicker of curiosity in Dakota's gaze and used it to her advantage. "Isn't that what you want, sugar?" she asked gently. "To know the truth? To finally have an answer?"

Dakota's resistance wavered even more, her expression conflicted. She wanted answers, but she was terrified of being hurt again.

That was all she wanted was the answers but could she handle it? Could she handle being also wrong to run away from her problems rather than face them and learn the truth.

Grandma leaned closer to her Dakota , her eyes filled with empathy and understanding. "Listen, darlin', I know you're scared," she admitted. "You've been through a lot, and it's natural to want to protect yourself from getting hurt again. But sometimes, to truly move on and find peace, you have to face your fears and take the risk."

Dakota swallowed hard, her eyes still downcast. Her mind was racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions.

Grandma reached out and took Dakota's hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'm not asking you to forget what happened," she said softly. "But give Joshua a fair chance to explain himself. At least listen to what he has to say."

Dakota's grip tightened on her grandmother's hand, but her expression was still conflicted. She knew her grandmother was right, but the scars of betrayal ran deep.

Could she forgive him ?

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2.am

As the night grew darker, a soft knocking echoed through the quiet house. Dakota’s Grandma stirred, casting a brief glance at the clock—2:00 AM. She slowly rose from her bed, a mix of curiosity and concern coursing through her.

Approaching the door, she fumbled with the lock before slowly opening it. Standing there, silhouetted against the dim lighting, was Jey. His eyes were heavy with fatigue and determination.

"Can I come in?" Jey asked quietly, his voice gravelly. She regarded him with a mixture of surprise and concern before nodding and stepping aside.

Joshua entered the house, his movements clumsy in his late-night stupor. They made their way to the living room, the tension between them palpable.

He took a late night flight to Chicago the minute he found out where Dakota was hiding at from jasmine. He wasn’t going to risk anything to speak to her no matter how tireless he was from a match he had earlier on in the night he was still going to fight his way to her.

"Is she here?" Jey asked, his gaze darting around the room, searching for Dakota.

Jey's eyes were visibly red and puffy, evidence of the tears he'd shed. His mullet was disheveled, and his usual confident demeanor seemed to have crumbled. He looked weary and vulnerable, as if he'd been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

As he spoke, his voice wavered slightly. "Is Dakota here?" he asked once more,, his gaze searching the room for any sign of her.

She nodded, her expression softened by the sight of his weary appearance. "She's in her room," she replied quietly. "Probably not asleep, though. She's been restless since that incident."

Jey's shoulders slumped at the mention of the incident, guilt etched across his face. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, attempting to compose himself.

His heart twisted at the sound of her pain and animosity, each word she spoke like a knife twisting deep into his chest. The idea that he had caused her pain, that he had hurt her to the point of her hating him, cut through him like a hot blade.

The realization that he had caused so much harm stung deeply, and Jey felt a wave of guilt and self-loathing wash over him. He wanted to scream at himself, to beat himself up for being so careless with someone he cared for so deeply.

She was his beautiful bloom tree that made him bloom.

As Jey ran his hand through his hair, the movement revealed his signature mullet, now with the distinctive red tips at the ends. The stark contrast against the muted light of the room only seemed to emphasize the weariness in his expression.

Grandma's gaze stayed on Jey, her maternal instincts stirred by the sight of his disheveled state. "You look like you've been through the wringer, honey," she observed, her voice laced with concern.

Josh let out a weary sigh, his shoulders slumping further as if the weight of the world was pressing upon him. "I have," he admitted softly, his eyes fixed on the floor.

Dakota slowly stepped out of her room, her eyes still heavy with sleep. She rubbing her eyes, her hair disheveled and a blanket draped over her shoulders.

"Nanny, who was at the..." her voice trailed off as she noticed Jey standing there. Her guard immediately went up, and her expression hardened. "What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Dakota!” Her grandmother shouted out at her with a glare for her language.

“Sorry nanny.” Dakota sighed trying to contain her anger which held high.

Jey looked up as Dakota appeared, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of her. He swallowed hard, mustering the courage to speak. "I needed to talk to you," he said quietly. "Please, just hear me out."

Dakota's eyes narrowed, her walls firmly in place. She wrapped the blanket tighter around herself, a futile attempt to fortify her defenses.

Josh took a tentative step toward her, his movements slow and measured. "Can we talk in private?" he asked softly.

Dakota hesitated, her gaze flickering between her grandmother's retreating form and Jey. After a moment, she relented, her resistance cracking slightly. "Fine," she said grudgingly, gesturing toward her room. "But make it quick."

Jey followed Dakota into her room, the door closing softly behind him. The room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a small bedside lamp.

Dakota leaned against the wall, her arms crossed defensively. A tense silence hung in the air, the tension between them palpable.

Jey stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, his hands shoved into his pockets. He glanced around, his gaze lingering on the photographs and trinkets that adorned her walls and shelves—reminders of happier times between them.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself before finally looking at her. "I know you're angry," he began quietly. "And I don't blame you."

Jey took a slow step forward, closing the distance between them a fraction. "I didn't leak those pictures," he said firmly, his voice tinged with desperation.

Dakota's gaze flickered up to meet his, her eyes cold. She didn't respond, but her expression remained guarded and skeptical.

Jey could see the skepticism in her eyes and felt desperation well up within him. He took another step forward, his voice growing more insistent.

"I swear to you, Dakota, I would never do no shit like that to hurt you," he pleaded, his voice cracking slightly. "I love you. I would never betray you like that and you know that.”

Jey's eyes were pleading, his expression filled with a mixture of sadness and determination. "Please," he said softly, his voice filled with vulnerability. "Please believe me. I didn't do this."

Dakota's expression wavered, the wall she had built around her heart cracking ever so slightly. She wanted to believe him, but the pain of betrayal weighed heavily on her heart.

Joshua took a final step toward her, closing the gap between them completely. He gently reached out, placing a tentative hand on her arm.

"I swear, Dakota," he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. "I would never do anything to hurt you.."

Dakota's gaze flicked up to meet his, her walls slowly crumbling under the weight of his earnestness.

Josh’s grip on her arm tightened slightly, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her skin. He stepped even closer, closing the remaining gap between their bodies.

"Please," he pleaded, his eyes searching hers. "I need you to believe me. I love you. You're the most important person in my life, and I would never intentionally hurt you like that ko.”

Dakota's expression softened, her defenses slipping further. A hint of doubt and confusion warred with her anger.

Jey's expression hardened as he locked eyes with her. "You hate me, huh?" he said quietly, his voice laced with resignation.

Dakota nodded, crossing her arms defiantly. "Yeah, I do, I really fucking do.” she replied, her voice cold and distant. "And nothing you say is going to change that."

Jey let out a frustrated sigh, his eyes narrowing as he observed her stubborn expression. "You don't believe me," he stated, his voice tinged with anger.

Dakota shrugged, unfazed. "Damn right, I don't," she retorted, her gaze flickering away from him.

Jey felt a surge of irritation, his frustration mounting. He took a step closer, closing the space between them again.

"Why the fuck you gotta be so damn stubborn Dakota?” he asked, his voice raising slightly. "Why can't you even consider the possibility that I could be telling the fucking truth?.”

Dakota's eyes flared with defiance, her stubbornness refusing to waver. "Because it's easier for me to hate you than to believe in you," she shot back, her voice laced with bitterness.

Jey's anger flared at her response, his jaw clenching. "Nah it’s just easier to believe I did it then to believe I didn’t ," he snapped, his gaze burning into hers.

"Is it, though?" Dakota retorted, her eyes narrowing. "Or is it easier for you to blame me for being stubborn than to accept that you played a role in all this?"

Jey clenched his fists, his patience wearing thin. "Played a role in what? I ain’t did shit Dakota," he growled. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"You think so?" Dakota scoffed, her voice filled with skepticism. "You really think you didn't do anything wrong at all?"

Josh’s irritation boiled over, his voice rising to a near-yell. "Fuck Dakota, I already told you I didn't leak that shit!”

“But you just can’t fucking seem to get that through your damn head can you?” Josh replied but he stopped in his tracks as he saw red roses sitting on her nightstand with a card written on it big and bold. “Joe Anoaʻi.”

"Joe," he muttered under his breath, his expression darkening with jealousy. “You can accept gifts from him but not me right?”

“Josh it shouldn’t even matter we ar— It should fucking matter Dakota!” Joshua shouted startling Dakota as he stared at her with almost darken eyes.

His shout echoed through the room, its intensity shocking even to him. His eyes, usually filled with warmth, now seemed almost dark as he locked gazes with Dakota.

He had grown weary of waiting patiently, feeling drained not only by his efforts but also by the fact that she could hold conversations with Joe, while she seemed unable to do the same with him.

“It doesn’t matter though because we aren’t to fucking gether!”

“So what you fucking with my cousin now? Is that what it is.” He asked, he could see the anger and frustration building within him as he walked back and forth, each step punctuated by his clenched fists. The tension in the room was palpable as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

“No! But that’s the problem you get to assuming things without knowing the fucking truth.” She shot back.

“I fucking hate you.”

Joshua came to an abrupt halt as if everything else around him vanished in that moment, fixating on the single word "hate." He made his way towards Dakota, his gaze fixed on her, and his features softened. "You don’t mean that ko.”

“No I do.” Dakota's response cut through the air like cold ice water. She pivoted on her heel, deliberately turning her back on him, refusing to spare him even a single glance.

“I know you’re mad at me right now but Dakota me and you both know you don’t m— NO I do mean it I mean it so fucking much I hate you!”

“Everyday I wish I hadn’t met you but I did and I have to live and regret it so yes I do hate you matter fact you can leave.” Dakota said once more as the tears she so desperately didn’t want to drop did.

“Aight I’ll go…but before I leave I want you to know ko that even though you hate me I still love you and never will stop loving you.” Joshua said as tears filed his eyes he walked towards the bedroom door walking his footsteps becoming faint the more he walked away.

Hate is a powerful emotion, and when it emerges between people who love each other, it can feel like a natural part of the relationship. No matter how strong the love may seem, true colors are bound to show eventually. It's important to ask yourself.

Is hate a strong word for you?.

To be continued…..

So this is the end of chapter five! I hope you all enjoyed it.

Y’all I’ve been so busy watching interview with the vampire and all I can say is girl it’s crazy but so good! So far Claudia is my favorite. I kinda of used one of the scenes from I think season two with Claudia and Louis arguing about amand.

AND most importantly I want to thank you all for getting me to 6k followers! I appreciate it so much!!!! 🫶🏾

Feel free to drop any opinions on the characters or chapter and a till next time. God bless🎀

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simpingforstardew · 5 months

Text

misty [chapter three]

pairing: sdv harvey x reader

synopsis: harvey has always been a man of routine and order— although just as he begins to tire of his life in pelican town, a new farmer moves to the valley and turns his life around. chapter three.

warnings: poor overworked harvey :(( please enjoy my harvey playlist while you read ♡ (this is crossposted from ao3).

word count: 1.6k

<< last chapter | next chapter >>

The fluorescent lights of the clinic cast a harsh, sterile glow, illuminating the white walls and linoleum floors of Harvey’s small office, casting an unnaturally pale glow over the cluttered desk. The clatter of the doctor’s footsteps on tiled floors echoes through the empty hallways.

Today was supposed to be different. Today was supposed to be his day off.

For the past two weeks, Harvey had been working overtime, sacrificing his days off to update Pravoloxinanone prescriptions, coordinate with healthcare professionals around Ferngill, and arranging appointments for the townsfolk. Turns out that without the distraction of an attractive farmer, the passing work days have been unforgivingly laborious.

He could, in theory, ask Maru to pick up some extra shifts, to stay behind a couple hours more. He knew she was eager to help, but he couldn’t bring himself to burden her further. She had her own responsibilities, attending college lectures online while juggling part-time work at the clinic.

A sudden death rattle of his fax machine shattered the silence, its mechanical whirring cutting through the stillness of the office like a knife— a relentless reminder of the endless stream of tasks demanding his attention.

He glances at the clock on the wall, his tired eyes struggling to focus through the thick lenses of his glasses.

3:30 pm.

Another hour wasted, another day lost to the demands of his job. He sighed wearily, running a hand through his greying hair. Harvey still couldn’t tell if the strands of silver were a testament to his age or his perpetual stress. He didn’t know which answer he would prefer.

He gazed out of his window, watching sparrows gracefully darting through the clear sky above. Dark-eyed juncos, specifically— Junco hyemalis. Harvey’s brief fascination with bird-watching while at University always managed to resurface during moments like this, when searching for an excuse to look away from his work.

The sight stirs something within him, prompting him to break the monotony. Locking himself in his office, Harvey realized, would only consign him to an evening of fatigue. So, he pushes away from his cluttered desk, picking up his green overcoat from the coat rack as he leaves the clinic.

Hurrying down the cobblestone path, Harvey’s mind races with a cacophony of thoughts. He fails to notice you walking his way until it is too late.

You collide with a jolt, and Harvey stumbles backward. The doctor could practically hear his heart pounding in his chest. His dishevelled appearance must have been evident, his fatigue and stress written plainly across his face.

“Oh, shoot, I—,” You panic, rubbing your shoulder bashfully, “I am so sorry, Harvey I-,”

“No, no, It is perfectly fine— I was just, distracted tthinking about a recent article I read about the recent rise of…” His voice trails off, acutely aware of how awkward he must sound, “Whooping… cough.”

“Hm, that doesn’t sound like much fun,” you grimace sympathetically.

“Oh, on the contrary! Pertussis is actually rather fascinating, that reminds me to reach out to Jodi and Shane to see if they can book a vaccination appointment for Vincent and J—”

“You’re doing the thing.” You interrupt, recognising a fellow workaholic when you see one. A kindred spirit.

“What thing? I am not doing a… thing.”

“Sure you are— you’re doing the thing I used to do at my old job,” Your tone gentle but firm. “You grovel and moan over your work, it stresses you out so you take a break, then you realize you’re stuck thinking about the work that was stressing you out!”

“Well, I am a doctor— There is no way for me to not think… I- I have an entire town to look after for Yoba’s sake. ” Harvey retorts defensively.

“Of course, and that’s the problem.”

“That is..?”

In that moment, as you notice the doctor picking as the skin on his fingers, you see the bags under his eyes; the paleness of his skin. You had seen undead creatures in the mines more full of life.

“Who’s looking after you, Harvey?” your voice softens, concern evident in your eyes, “I mean, I don’t want to pry, but I’m not surprised you’re stressed with the weight of the valley on you all the time. But you can’t manage that burden alone. Nobody could.”

“O-Oh, I um—,” Harvey falters, stammering as his defences crumble in the face of your genuine concern, “Appreciate your candour, truly, but you do not need to worry about me. My well-being shouldn’t be any of your…” He huffs, his cheeks flushed.

Despite his larger stature, Harvey’s wide eyes scanning your face anxiously made the man appear small; weak. You ignore the impulse to take his rosy cheeks in your hands, or to clasp his hands to calm his nervous fidgeting.

He clears his throat as his phone rings— a blocky grey mobile, a model you haven’t seen since 2005.

“I- need to take this call, I’m sorry.” He leaves, jogging back to the clinic. As you see him leave, you wonder what exactly he was apologising for.

As you push open the creaky doors of the saloon, the sounds of clinking glasses and laughter wash over you like a warm embrace. The dimly lit room is filled with the scent of aged wood and the tang of whiskey.

“Hey there, stranger!” Sam’s booming voice cuts through the din, drawing the attention of the entire room. His grin is as infectious as ever, and you can’t help but return it as you make your way over to the group by the pool table. Abigail and Sebastian wave you over eagerly, their faces lit up with genuine excitement.

“Hey gang, sorry I got caught up with something,” You drop your backpack on the polished wooden floor as you crash onto the plush sofa next to Abigail.

It’s been years since you’ve all been together like this—no screens or avatars, just flesh and blood friends reconnecting in the real world. You couldn’t help but feel a wave of nostalgia wash over you. Sure, Sebastian is now a little taller, Sam a little more pierced, Abigail a little more muscular. Despite what has changed since you last visited the valley to see your grandfather, the gang was still here. And with the way you all slip into conversation, it’s as if you never left.

As you settle in, taking in the familiar faces and the comforting hum of conversation, Abigail leans in with a mischievous glint in her eye. “So, what’s going on with your love life? It seems like every time we’d chat online, you’d either be lovesick or swearing off romance altogether.”

Your smile falters slightly.

It wasn’t as though you weren’t looking for love— if anything, you consider yourself quite the romantic— but with the chaos of the farm, dating seems out of the question.

“I don’t know, Abs. I’ve come to realise that dying alone is underrated,” You quip with a chuckle, hoping a comedic distraction will satisfy as an answer, “Honestly, the freedom of being single rules, you guys should try it some time.”

“Nahh,” Sam lets out a hearty laugh, flopping down on top of you and Abigail with all the grace of a newborn foal, “We’ve got the dating thing down, shout out to your lonely ass though.”

“Sam!”Abigail gasps incredulously, pushing the blonde off with a huff, though there’s a fondness in her eyes that belies her words, “Don’t be an dick!”

You all share a laugh as Sam looks up from his crumpled position on the floor, his puppy-dog eyes silently pleading for forgiveness.

Sebastian places his drink on a nearby table, sauntering over to the three of you, “Well, (Y/n) if you ever need a wingman, you know where to find me.” He smirks at you before picking up the pool cue resting against the wall.

“Pfft, as if they’d pick you to be their wingman when I’m right here!” Sam stands up, looking frantically between you and Sebastian before dropping dramatically to his knees, “Right, bestie? You’d totally trust me to pick you out a partner!”

Before you can imagine what having the punk as your wingman would entail, the bell above the bar’s front door chimes: Elliot strides through the saloon, exchanging greetings with Emily and Gus before running his fingers through his auburn hair. You wonder what shampoo he uses.

The poet’s eyes scan the room until they land on you. “Ah, apologies for the interruption. Have any of you seen Harvey, perchance? This is the second time he has failed to show…” Elliot’s voice trails off, concern etching lines into his chiselled features.

“Oh, I saw him earlier. He seemed,” Overworked? Exhausted? Close to death? “…busy.”

“Ah, well that certainly sounds like him. If you happen to run into him again, do try to convince him to re-join society.” Elliot laughs, although there is no more humour in his statement as there is truth.

As the author leaves, the conversation in the saloon continues to flow. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you might have overstepped with Harvey earlier— the thought gnaws at you.

You don’t know why you are so worried about him, surely he can look after himself; surely it didn’t matter if he has somebody in his life to look after him. You try not to think about somebody else being there for him. Somebody else holding him at night. Somebody else wiping away his tears.

Instead, you force a smile, joining in the laughter, as your concern for Harvey lingers, a shadow over the otherwise cheerful atmosphere of the saloon.

#sdv #sdv fanfic #sdv x reader #stardew valley x reader #sdv harvey #stardew valley fanfic #sdv harvey x reader #sdv harvey x farmer #sdv harvey fanfic #stardew valley harvey #stardew harvey #harvey sdv #sdv harvey x y/n #sdv harvey x you

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