Tw: Stalking - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

Perfect Pictures

Mickey Altieri x Reader

TW: 18+ | Possessive | Stalking | Kidnapping | Video taping | Picture taking | Dead dove do not eat | Bondage |

All content that you consume on your media is your thing, I don't care what you do.

"Guess what, Beautiful?"

the echo of his foot steps surrounded your isolation, banging in your ear drums as your head lulls to the side.

"You made the front cover! Again!" You could hear his excitement, if not in his voice, you could hear it in the way he moved, the wrinkling of the news papers waving in his over enthusiastic hand gestures.

Your arm ached as he leaned over your chair, the feeling of his breath hitting the side of your face made you want to gag.

"I always knew you could do it, You're Picture perfect." His whispers blow around your left ear, you could feel his jeans crinkle against your arm, his zipper scraping into your skin as he bends down, breathing heavily into the side of your neck.

the pitch black fabric wrapped around your eyes insured little comfort, your head felt like a balloon being lifted into the air, a stabbing spike hitting the side of your brain.

a small. wet. kiss hit the side of your neck, a pit wanted to swallow you whole. your eyebrows furrowed as small dark patches seep into the fabric, an uncomfortable chill running down your spine.

His forehead rests in the crook of your neck, a slight groan crawled its way up your throat as he moves his left arm to rest in front of him. with a slight tilt on his wrist, you could hear the waves of paper balancing through the air.

"They used the wrong photo." He mumbled, a sigh escaping his nose as he sits up, a small whish cut through the air as the sheets flopped on the floor, discarded in disgust. "Your school photos always looked so... forced." his hand lightly touches your head, a small stroke from his thumb. "Amateurs."

"The pictures we take are masterpieces. Don't you think so?" He lifted himself off of your arm, moving around to only god knows where.

"I wonder if I gave your parents those photos we took at the end of last term. Do you think they would use them? That smile you had while you presented your year end project. You looked so nervous, so shy..." click

a heavy weight hits the side of your head as your head falls forward, parts of your hair falling over your face, sticking to your forehead.

click, click

"You must be one of the descendants of Aphrodite, and I'm your fierce lover. Aphrodite and Ares, Love of the ages. Passionate," click "Secretive" click click "Complex." he sighs, all you could hear was fabric moving around, until hurried footsteps come to a stop in front of you.

His hands reach up, steady on the sides of your head, cupping your face, lifting your soaked face towards his prying eyes. Piercing even shrouded in silence.

His thumbs, caressing your cheeks. Cold hands burning against your heated cheeks. His left hand sliding up to catch against the fabric boundary, the smallest protection you have, being able to pretend like its all a dream, just a bad dream.

Then just like that, a piercing white stabs your eyes, your head shooting to the right, rolling on your shoulders.

You could hear Mickey tutting as his right hand caresses your jaw, this thumb following the outline of the duct tape glued onto your damp skin.

"Your eyes were always so sensitive, That's what makes them so beautiful." He leans towards your face, his thumb stroking your cheek in false comfort. "You're perfect."

His hand gliding to take a hold of your chin, slowly tilting your head back, eyes slowly fluttering open to the beaming square stage lights in all directions.

Beyond the dark glow of his silhouette, a bold flashing red light, the reflective surface mocking you, a sick memory to relive.

It felt like hours before he decided to step back, releasing all contact, allowing gravity to pull your head to sag in front of you.

"Now, princess.. we have to look at the camera to capture your beauty." His hand grabbing a handful of your hair. pulling your head into the position he felt was natural. "Now stay still."

A big, winning smile grows on his face, moving backwards towards his camera, set perfectly in front of you.

"Now say cheese." click, and flash.

"Beautiful." flash.

"Perfect." click.

white flooring. flash.

wooden chair. click.

bare legs. flash.

"Its like your beauty grows every day." He lifted the camera, moving it to a separate table near the wall, "I'll show you the photos later, Processing them by hand, all for me."

"Watching your body... slowly burn into the paper." His mumbling traveling across the solid walls.

You watch him, eyes following him as he walks towards you. one. final. time.

"My model, my goddess, Mine. Forever."

He bends down, a puff of cold air hits your forehead before his lips. His hand taking the now visible black fabric, thick, with a singular knot.

A small cry escapes the barrier blocking your face, shaking your head, eyes pleading.

"I can't have you flashing those beautiful eyes at anyone else. These are all mine."

His hands take the blind fold and slowly move it over your eyes, a burnt in traced of the room where it once was.

"I'll see you in a few hours."

A small peck touched your covered eye, a final deep breath, the thick air, following his receding steps and the lock of a door.

I know this is completely irrelevant to my usual posts but I really need to get this off my chest because I’m super scared right now.

Mentions of, kidnapping, fear, following, chasing, crying, and assault, dying, paranoia. Mention of private parts…

I don’t really want minors to read this but it needs to be out there so feel free to.

So I was at the park right? Doing my daily walk as I usually do since I’m preparing for the army and this guy walks up to me and starts flirting with me and he was pretty old so I told him my age (17 going to turn eighteen in one month) and he was like your legal enough and kept flirting with me and he wouldn’t leave me alone. He asked me for my number and told me he was 59 yo and I walked off after telling him no and he started scratching his dick like bro wtf then he started following me and everything so I started walking faster and mind you my phone just got turned off yesterday because of personal reasons so I couldn’t call the police. I looked back and this man is running behind the trees so I start crying and panicking so I saw this girl and I called the police off of her phone and they escorted me back home and now I’m paranoid because I feel like I’m being followed and watched.

When I tell you he was sprinting to hide behind the trees and literally made me bust out in tears like omg. Never in my life had I been scared of dying but that doesn’t mean imma let a door open to it possibly happening. I felt like he was trying to kidnap me.

It really felt like he was chasing me (he was) I really can’t do anything to calm myself down and I’m home by myself now. My aunt and brother are out working and today is my day off so being at home right up the street from the park where that man chased me makes me wanna rip my hair out and cry again.

Maybe I’m being dramatic but I feel like my reaction is pretty justified because of what happened. The police are now searching for him.

Guys please be safe for real. I don’t want this to happen to anyone else because it’s not a good feeling. Paranoia can really cause damage in trust and all sorts of things and safety is really important. Please keep a defense weapon on you at all times. Please. Like seriously.

And believe me I’m not trying to scare anyone by any means but I want to put it out there to be safe wether your a female, male, non binary, or other.

I’LL PROTECT YOU

cw: mdni, obsession, inferiority complex, delusions, yandere behaviors, stalking, kidnapping,

pairing: yandere!giyu x fem!reader

wc: 0.7k approx.

notes: i want to thank you all so much for all the support on my first post, i didn’t expect it to get so many likes! i hope to continue making works that you guys enjoy <3

yandere!giyu who had his sights set on you since the very beginning. unlike most of his fellow hashira, you treated him kindly. you were patient and understanding with him despite his lack of communication skills.

yandere!giyu who quickly became infatuated with you,—though it’s not like you could blame him—you were perfect in his eyes. your praise made his heart proud so hard in his chest that he thought it was going to explode. how was it that someone as lovely as you payed attention to someone like him?

yandere!giyu who underneath his stoic mask, deeply cares for you. even if he struggles taking care of himself, he always makes sure you’re healthy. he insists that you go to shinobu for check-ups after every one of your missions. he also double checks with shinobu that you’re okay, it’s not that he doesn’t trust you, it’s just better to be safe than sorry.

yandere!giyu who starts stalking because of his constant worrying over you. that’s not to say he has no morals, in fact he is fully aware of his actions, even feeling guilty about it from time to time. though he justifies his behavior by convincing himself it’s for your own good.

yandere!giyu who feels conflicted whenever you’re around sanemi. there’s this feeling he gets whenever he sees you with him that he doesn’t understand. it’s a mix of jealousy and sadness? he’s jealous that sanemi is able to talk with you so easily, and he’s sad because he knows you deserve someone better than him. maybe in another life will he be fully deserving of you.

yandere!giyu who hates it when you have to go away on missions. don’t you know how worried he gets. what if something were to happen to you? he knows you’re more than capable at your job but he can’t help that his past still haunts him.

yandere!giyu who misses you so much whenever you’re away to the point where it impacts his abilities as a hashira. he knows that it’s a major issue but he can’t help it when he loves you so much.

yandere!giyu who can’t stand the thought of losing you. first his sister, then his best friend…never again would he allow something like that to happen again. he couldn’t bare not being able to protect you. he’ll make sure you’re safe, don’t worry.

yandere!giyu who knows what he’s doing is wrong but he can’t help it, he won’t lose anyone else. that’s why he snuck into your residence while you were asleep and knocked you out. no, it’s not kidnapping, he’s just keeping you safe!

yandere!giyu who shushes you when you finally come to your senses, assuring that this is all for your own good and that he’s trying to protect you. you don’t need to squirm so much, it’s okay, he’d never hurt you.

yandere!giyu who showers you in gifts in an attempt to gain your trust back. he isn’t very good with expressing his emotions so he tries showing affection in other ways. he already knows all your favorite things—i mean what kind of person would he be if he didn’t know his darling’s interests—which makes it easy for him to spoil you.

yandere!giyu who almost gives in when you beg him to let you go. he truly feels horrible about the fact that he betrayed your trust, especially when you were so kind to him, but he knows that if he wants to keep you safe he’ll have to be strict and unwavering. he can’t risk you going out and getting hurt.

yandere!giyu who is determined to never let you go now that you’re in his grasp. while he’d much rather prefer that you were here of your own choosing, he understands that you don’t see things the same way he does. he knows that you don’t understand how much he yearns for you, you’re on his mind every second of every day.

©giyusdarling 2024 — do not modify, reupload, or steal

YOU LOVE ME, DON’T YOU?

cw: mdni, yandere behaviors, obsession, stalking, delusional choso, kidnapping, possible spelling/grammar errors

pairing: yandere!choso x fem!reader

wc: 0.4k approx.

yandere!choso who initially was confused about his feelings for you. you made his heart beat so fast and his stomach feel all woozy, he’s never experienced anything like this before.

yandere!choso who doesn’t know why he has such a strong urge to protect you. something inside of him needs to protect you, to keep you out of harm’s way.

yandere!choso who despite never talking to you, knows everything about you. he’s absolutely obsessed with every little thing you do. even something as simple as applying lipgloss has him completely mesmerized.

yandere!choso who gets all of his information about you by keeping a close eye (stalking) you. how foolish you are to keep your curtains open like that. anyone could look in, in fact it’s as if you’re inviting people to do so.

yandere!choso who eventually deludes himself into believing that you like him back, why else would you let him follow you around? and that one time you two made eye contact act the grocery store, sure enough you felt that too. that spark when you met his gaze.

yandere!choso who (after a bit of reassurance from yuuji that morning) approaches you as you’re leaving your usual coffee shop and suddenly declares his love for you. surely you won’t reject it, you love him too, right?

yandere!choso who is taken aback when you said you didn’t even know him, going so far as to calling him a weirdo. what do you mean you don’t know him? he’s been watching you for so long, there’s no way you haven’t picked up on the fact that he was stalking you? you can’t reject him like this, not after he’s waited so long.

yandere!choso who knows he has to have you no matter what and suddenly pulls you into the parking lot behind the coffee shop. he’s thankful that everyone’s already at work and the streets are clear.

yandere!choso who quickly knocks you out and places you into his trunk. he really didn’t want to resort to this but you’ve left him no choice. he knows you’ll fall in love with him eventually.

©giyusdarling 2024 — do not modify, reupload, or steal

Always watch your back.

Stalked | A retro style horror experience.

Heavily inspired by Chilla's Art, Fears to Fathom, and Puppet Combo.

Select six stories about parasocial stories of strangers or people you trust.

Each person is different, they don't think or act like you do. Everyone makes mistakes.

Multiple endings and so on.

Victim 1 - Streamer.

Victim 2 - Singer.

Victim 3 - Regular person.

Victim 4 - Barista.

Victim 5 - Priest.

Victim 6 - Artist.

Gender doesn't apply to stalking, anyone can be stalked.

Somebody's watching me.

Yandere Stalker x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: Stalking, blood, fem reader, stealing, he’s weird as fuck, male masturbation, he’s infatuated with you.

*This fic is influenced by You—a great tv show btw. I’m trying to give him a joe goldberg vibe. I really thought of the weirdest and freakiest shit he could do…He is referred to as “your stalker” and this is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: Your stalker goes to extreme lengths to feel close to you. Nothing really phases him, and that includes your period blood.

What’s more dangerous than a man madly in love?

He stalked you to a coffee shop. He sat a couple tables away from you, and he ordered a random drink. He never really cared for the overpriced concoctions these baristas made, and he really was here for you. He watched your white straw turn into a different color when you sip on your drink, and he sighed happily as he thought you looked hot with your lips puckered.

Sure enough, every sip was like a punch to your bladder. You got up from your seat and you walked to the restroom.

Was this disgusting? He asked himself as his cheek hit the cold tile floor. He was currently hiding in the women’s bathroom, spying on you as you did your business. And to his elation, you were on your period. He watched as you pulled down your pants, and you sat down onto the toilet, his eyes honing in on the pad that lays on your panties. As you changed your sanitary pad and wrapped up the old one, you pulled your pants back up and walked out of the stall. His eyes following the sight of your shoes and you stopped at the trash can, he hears a faint noise, and then the sound of the water turning on.

When you finally left, he walked out of the stall he was hiding in, and he approached the trash can. He gently pushed the opening, and his arm traveled down inside to look for the pad you threw away. He prayed that all of the wet substances that he was feeling was just soggy paper towels.

He then feels a plastic film, and it was sort of short but thick in width, and he grabbed onto it. He pulled it out and he inspected the orange colored wrapper. He was curious since he didn’t have a uterus, and also didn’t know what it was like to have a period, and he then sniffed it.

It definitely smelled odd… It sort of tingled his senses, the aroma of metallic blood and the natural scent of your body was…. sort of triggering a deep rooted instinct inside him. But that didn’t stop him from stashing it away into his pocket. He quickly put his hood up and he walked out of the restroom.

He had to jog a bit to catch up with you, he saw you sharply turn the corner, and he almost panicked when he couldn’t see you anymore. The last time this had happened, a crowd swarmed him and he hasn’t seen you in months. For five hellish months he had to try to find you again. It certainly wasn’t easy to find someone that didn’t document every single moment of their life on the internet.

A year prior before he started to stalk you in person, he wanted to stalk you online. He was pretty sure everyone stalks their crush on their socials, he remembers seeing your name on the coffee cup you were holding, and he scrolled through endless usernames. He squinted his eyes and he tried to look at the tiny profile pictures.

None of them looked like you.

He couldn’t find your perfect face anywhere! He slammed his fists onto his desk, and his mind was racked with potential username ideas. Maybe you liked flowers? He started to name every single flower he knows, and he typed that with your name. He frowned when the page ended up empty, zero profiles showing up.

He soon found out you had zero social media presence.

He shoves his way through, bumping into seemingly everyone’s shoulder, and after handing out half hearted apologies…he finally saw you enter a store.

He looked up at the sign: “Rated: Adventurous,” it said. There was apparently a huge sale going on… whips and leashes half off… wait what?

He didn’t peg you to be the kinky type, but to be fair he didn’t know much about you. You keep your cards close and have a small knit of friends. He walked into a different aisle from you, trying to look normal by grabbing a random adult toy as he glanced at you. His eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as you held a ten inch dildo in your hands, jesus. He looked down at his own crotch, his cheeks burning red and he cleared his throat. He put away the leather mask in his hand, and he inched a bit closer to you when you walk to the cashier. He notes that you mostly pay in cash, rarely using your card, and he noticed how you barely look around your surroundings. You didn’t even look his way—even when he was standing right in front of you, you just brushed past him and walked out of the store.

Huh.

He stands a couple of feet behind you as you hailed a cab, he makes sure to take a good look at the driver, and he saw you get in and buckle up. It’s not safe in the city, and even cab drivers had partaken in dangerous and criminal activities. Just last week a driver kidnapped a couple and fled out of the state. If you were to disappear—he knows exactly who to blame.

He quickly ran to his car and he followed after you. Running a couple of red lights doesn’t hurt anybody— maybe his wallet— but it’s worth it if it means protecting you.

He felt like he could finally relax as you made it home safely. He is now sitting in his parked car, idly fiddling with his fingers as you walked up to your front door.

He hoped that when you were pleasuring yourself you were imagining a man like him. Because he thinks of you when his pants are down.

Night has fallen and he’s been parked outside of your house for hours. He liked that it was dark out, because when he stares into your lamp lit apartment- all he could see is you and everything else is blocked out. You’ve always been a little tease, and the outfits you wore were always a bit scantily clad. But even now… it was like you were purposefully trying to trigger a response from him. You were just standing there, your arms crossed, and dressed in just a robe.

Just a tiny peek of your ankles and calves sent chills down his body. His hands started to work to unbuckle his belt, his zipper becomes unzipped, and he pulled out his hardened cock.

He wished you would’ve flashed him right there and then. He wanted a glimpse of your tits, just to see if they sag or if they were perky, and to see if your nipples were pink or brown. He would want to hold them in his hands. He wonders if you are shaven down there, or perhaps you liked to grow a bush. He wonders if your blood continued to flow out of you, dripping down your leg for him to lick and lap up. Would you like that? For him to spread your legs and help soothe your cramps?

He wouldn’t mind to have his fingers turn red, to have his hands and mouth stained of your heavenly essence. He wouldn’t mind if you got frustrated that his fingers couldn’t reach the deepest part of you, and that you wanted him to use his dick to impale you. A little blood never hurt. His eyes rolled back, and the muscles in his arms tightening as they furiously worked hard to jerk him off.

“Shit baby, that feels so good…” He groaned, his back arching as he was teeming for his release. His imagination running wild with the thought of you coming to his car to pleasure him. “I’m close I’m close I’m close—“

He used his other hand to reach into his pocket and he fished out the used pad, his teeth ripping the plastic, and his nose digs into the cotton. He let out a loud moan, your scent bringing him comfort, and his cock twitched as he came all over. His cum dribbling down his shaft, and dripping onto his hand. He sighed, and he cleaned himself up. He kept a box of tissues in the glove box, he wiped himself down and he looked in the mirror. There was a bit of your blood on his nose and chin, his tongue swiping at the area and he savored the taste.

The orgasm was so good that it lulled him to sleep, his soft cock still in his palm, and he snored away.

Yandere Stalker x you

Rated 18 + -- mature short content !

Content Warning: This story contains themes of obsession, stalking, manipulation, and violent fantasies. It delves into the unhealthy and dangerous mindset of a stalker obsessed with you. Reader discretion is advised.

WORD COUNT: 3.6K

INCLUDES: Stalking, blood kink, obsessive behavior, cunnilingus, fingering, fem reader, choking, mentions of cheating, p in v sex in public, murder, death, he's not a good person, dom yandere?, degradation?, he can be a bit of a gaslighter, gore, and more.

*This is the third fic to this little mini series. Check out the first part, and the second part for a better understanding! He is referred to as "your stalker." The italicized portion is his inner thoughts! This fic is inspired by the show You, and this is purely fictional writing!*

SYNOPSIS: Your stalker's obsession intensifies as he becomes involved with another woman named Daniella Foster, who he views as inferior to you. Despite his disdain for your best friend, he engages in a flirtatious and sexual relationship with her, all the while fantasizing about you.

What's more dangerous than a sick, psychotic, and perverted man?

I ran out of your blood today.

Just four hours ago, I was completely fine. The vial of your period blood was nearly empty, but I was able to stick my finger inside to collect the last of your crimson essence. I sucked a particularly big blood clot off my finger, and I was able to start my day with a huge smile.

Four hours ago, I could claim that I was a normal and functioning man, someone you wouldn’t blink an eye at, and that was all thanks to you.

Four hours ago, I was able to brush my teeth, take a shower, and clean myself up for the day. I had an extra pep in my step, and I felt like I could take on the world with a positive outlook.

Don’t you see how much life you give me? Your blood alone has made me feel like I was on top of the world, like I could float up into space with just your plasma to help me survive.

But now, it was gone.

Your stalker stared blankly at the window as his body was jostled side to side, his hands tightly gripping the handle of his tote bag that rested on his lap. He tried to ignore the obnoxiously sick person near him, who didn’t even bother to cover their coughs. He closed his eyes to avoid staring into the eyes of another person across from him. He was sandwiched between two burly people: one shouted loudly into their phone, clearly having zero spatial awareness, while the other snoozed. The woman's head drooped as she nodded off, and her greasy hair brushed against his cheek.

She had a distinct smell of sweat and wet socks. Your stalker apologized to the man next to him as he slightly leaned his body away from the woman. He was stuck in this position unless someone took pity on him and spoke up.

His car was in the shop. The tire had unexpectedly given out, causing him to swerve into oncoming traffic. The car was old anyway, a gift from his parents when he first got his license in high school. That must have been, what, ten years ago? He didn’t like to think about his age; nothing good ever came from it anyway.

Your stalker rummaged through his bag, his hand searching for the familiar plastic tube he used to steal your period blood. His fingers brushed against a particularly sharp blade he kept for “safety” reasons before they wrapped around the vial. He had really tried to savor it. He would carefully open his mouth and tilt the vial just enough for a single drop of blood to settle onto his tongue. Sometimes he would pour a bit into his coffee, or he would put it into his food. Either way, it made him feel closer to you. It was a comforting notion to think about, that he was the only man and human who had access to you in such an intimate way.

Your stalker sighed as he put the empty tube back into his breast pocket for safe keeping.

He didn’t like taking public transportation. New York was known for having odd things happening on the trains, buses, and subways. He was pretty sure that last week someone had set a rat on fire, a poor woman got robbed in broad daylight, and a group of teens were filming their dumb YouTube prank videos on the elderly.

Your stalker felt a flare of irritation as the woman leaned on his shoulder again. He gently nudged her off and ignored the way she woke up all startled. He glanced down at his phone, counting the number of stops, and saw he had twelve more before he could get off.

He was going to Manhattan for a job. An absolute douchebag had hired him, and his name was Myron Vykolv. He was the type to spend his money on trips and a bedazzled car rather than giving back to charity. Vykolv was an artist's worst nightmare: fickle, a headache to deal with; but surprisingly, he had good taste in art. He had to; he hired your stalker, after all.

He pulled out his phone to scroll on social media, his eyes scanning the copious amount of braindead content, and he paused when he saw a familiar face. He pressed the buttons on the side of his phone, his screen flashing, and the screenshot he took was saved in his photo album. Your stalker zoomed in, and his eyes widened as he saw the perfectly harmonious facial features. The baby tee top had a cute graphic splayed on the chest area, hair slicked and pulled back into a bun, and gold hoops dangling from those nicely formed ears.

It was you.

He glanced down at the caption: "a coffee date with my favorite bff." Posted exactly five minutes ago. It wasn't your account, but it was the closest thing he had to you. Your stalker decided to follow your coffee-manic and bikini-loving friend, and every post and picture she had, you were in it too.

She made it almost easy to stalk. Jesus, what if a deranged man had decided to show up to her place in the Beverly Hills area on the street of— seriously? Did she really just post her full address online?

Daniella Foster. The epitome of a fun and ditzy socialite who spent way too much time at parties and clubs. A trust fund baby if there ever was one, with her daddy being a big shot in the entertainment industry. Despite all that privilege, she never quite made it big herself.

Your stalker snorted as he saw the array of failed projects she had been in. Modeling? Wasn't in the cards for her. Acting? Horrible. A piece of cardboard would've had more personality than her. Originally from Tampa, Florida, then she moved to California, where she had her comically large house, and then… she decided to bless us by coming to New York. Lucky us, right y/n?

Your stalker looked up from his phone and realized the train had come to his stop. He got up from his seat and quickly made his way out. He felt his phone vibrate in his hand and looked down: Daniella requested to follow you. That was fast.

He clicked accept.

She's a shameless flirt, your stalker soon found out, and he’s not the least bit surprised. Daniella slid into his DMs with a picture of her provocatively sucking a lollipop, and her first words to him were: “What do you look like?”

Gee, take a gander, Daniella. My profile picture is a high-definition shot of my handsome and sexy fucking face. But sure, ask me about my looks as if you were actually interested. Your stalker rolled his eyes. He didn’t even want to respond to that message, but he had no other way of seeing you again. You would probably run at the sight of him, and that would be the most sane and correct thing you could do.

So, what does a man say when he’s mediocre, average, and you’re clearly out of his league? “I look like the man of your dreams, sweetheart.”

Your stalker had spent hours sexting and courting this woman who had flooded his inbox. Even when he was painting for a client, he managed to multitask and send a dick pic. He sent her whatever she wanted to keep her hooked, and just by her messages alone, this must have been the only time a man actually matched her level of craziness and horniness.

Days turned into weeks and then soon into months. The moment he woke up, he would see that she had sent him hundreds of messages in one night—she must've been drunk again.

He spent hours reading each message, and he hearted the ones that he felt were the most important. It was actually coming to an end, thank God, but to his surprise, she asked him out on a date.

"So, what do you do? Who are you?" The girl in front of him asked.

He shouldn't have said yes because now he was sitting in a restaurant that he could barely afford or get a reservation to, and he had to be with this woman who wasn't you. She was dressed beautifully - he'd give her that. He liked the dark colors of her red dress, the way he could drink in the curves of her hips and chest, and how it gave him a clear view of her body.

Now, he wondered what you would have worn if you were on a date with him. Would you have put in this much effort and shown this much skin? Would you have laughed at all of his jokes to boost his damn ego, or knocked him down a peg? Would you have ordered something light so you could have sex afterward, or would you have eaten something hearty and called it a day?

He pretended to think for a while, all before he gently touched her hand, and his fingers caressed her soft skin. "Who am I?" He teased, his voice slightly deepened as he gave her a playful once-over. "I'm hurt. After all these months, you still don't know who I am?"

"Why don't you refresh my memory?" She tilted her head.

Your stalker sighed and he looked around briefly. This place was intimate, for high rollers only, and he could just imagine how much of his money was going to go down the drain. The tiny candle on the table, the white clean cloth, and the vase with a single rose was still too romantic for his taste. His thumb traced circles on her hand, and the other grabbed for his steak knife.

“I'm an up-and-coming artist,” He replied with a bit of a shrug.

“An up-and-coming artist, huh?” She echoed, her fingers now interlocked with his. “Do you come often?”

Lord, please have some mercy and shoot me. Do I come often? Wouldn’t you like to know, you slut. Is this the type of person you really want to spend your time with, y/n? Daniella is not you, and she could never be you. She parades herself around for anyone and everyone to ogle at—she is the epitome of what’s wrong with the dating scene. No wonder she doesn’t have a boyfriend. No wonder she’s desperate enough to entertain me—of all people.

I know the type of people you like, Daniella, and it’s not me.

“You know what you’re doing when you ask me that.” he brought her hand up to his lips and he kissed it. “I can tell you can make a man come often.“

Daniella giggled and her chest puffed out. She leaned closer to him, and he can practically drown in her scent of vanilla and cake. “I have an art piece that I think you'll appreciate. It's back at my place… wanna see it?”

Fuhhhhhck no. Your stalker slipped the knife into his pocket.

Your stalker smirked and he leaned in closer as well. He could see the makeup on her face, the gloss on her lips, and he could see a glimpse of her ample breasts. “I don’t know… is it one of a kind?”

Underneath the table, her leg started to caress his, and her foot slowly found its way to his crotch. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped, and he held onto her hand tighter. As much as he hated this, he would have been lying if he had said that the attention wasn’t nice. He felt the pressure around his groin tighten as she pressed her foot onto it, and she gently rubbed it up and down while maintaining eye contact.

“It’s an original piece…something that can’t be replicated. I’m sure you’ll love it.” Daniella said coyly, and she bit down on her plush lips.

She knew when to strike when the iron was hot. A taxi was called, and she made out with him in it. Her body was pressed up against his, and she felt his hand grip on her ass. His hand then slid up her thigh, his fingers ripped her black sheer stockings and two of them found their way to her entrance. He bit down on her bottom lip and his tongue slipped into her mouth.

She's a fun girl. She knew exactly how to inflate a man's ego and pride. He heard her sweet, light moans, and her hips started to grind onto his hand. His thumb played with her clit, and they only pulled away when the cab arrived at her house. He grabbed her hand and tossed a couple of bills at the driver. He slammed the door shut, and before she could unlock the door to her house, he pressed her against his body.

"W-We're in public...!" Daniella's face was flushed and she tried to close her legs, but your stalker was quick to pull them back apart.

He narrowed his eyes and tugged down her panties. "So? Don't tell me you have morals all of a sudden." he snorted.

He wished that she would just shut up. She opened her mouth to rebuttal but he wrapped one hand around her throat to keep her still and quiet, and he shimmied off his pants just enough for his cock to be out. "I didn't come here for you to talk all the damn time. Shut it, before I put that mouth of yours to good use."

Your stalker lifted her up and made her wrap her legs around him. His dick then entered inside her, and he groaned at how wet and ready she felt. It's been awhile since he felt actual warmth, and her walls started to clench around him. His breath is ragged as he fucked her. His eyes were closed and he couldn't help but bite down onto her shoulder. Daniella cried out, and her body was tense as his teeth broke into her skin.

"God... you needed this, didn't you?" He purred as he licked up the puncture wound. Your stalker then looked down to watch his cock disappear into her. "You need someone to fuck your brains out." He sharply thrust into her again, and his hands dug into the plush of her ass to help with the momentum.

Your stalker dragged his tongue across her bleeding shoulder, then pressed his body against hers, pinning her to the wall. With one hand still gripping her body, he used the other to shove his fingers down her throat, silencing her whimpers."You're the prettiest whore I have ever seen. Isn't that right, y/n?"

Your stalker truly believed he was being intimate with you. Daniella, who? All he knew was you. All he ever wanted was to feel you, to taste you, and to be able to hear you mewl around his cock. He wanted to see your eyes roll back into your skull, to paint your skin with butterfly kisses, and for him to finally come inside you again and again. It actually pissed him off to no end that he had to be stuck here with her.

When he felt himself getting closer to the edge, he unceremoniously pulled out of her, and his white stream of cum dripped down onto the ground. He sighed as his dick softened, and he gently helped her stand on her own legs again. His hand dipped underneath her body, his fingers playing with her wet folds, and he spread them apart to furiously rub at her clit. Daniella gripped onto his arm to keep him firmly there until she felt her leg shake.

Your stalker watched with a bit of fascination as what seemed like an endless amount of juices squirted out of her. He got onto his knees and helped her to sit onto his face. After he cleaned her all up, your stalker suddenly remembered something and his hand patted down his pockets.

"Hey... I think I'm missing my phone." He started his little lie. "Can I borrow yours? I forgot that I had an important call--"

"Bag." She just said and pointed to the one that was tossed to the side.

He muttered a "thanks" before he went over and rummaged through her purse. "What do you think about doing this again?" he kept an eye on her as his hand aimlessly tried to look for her phone. "I had fun tonight, and I'd like to see you one more time."

He could feel the various items in her bag. A packet of cigarettes, two lip products, house keys, a whole perfume bottle, but fuck where was her phone?

He watched as Daniella rolled down her scrunched up dress. The woman then raised her brow and she crossed her arms. "I'm pretty sure you said another woman's name."

"I didn't." He said rather quickly. "You drank a lot of wine--it was almost like you were trying to bankrupt me." He joked, and his hand firmly gripped onto what felt like a smooth case. He pulled it out of her bag and there it was. "What's your password?"

"Trying to change the subject, are we?"

"I'm pretty sure your phone is the subject, unlock it pretty please?"

Daniella pulled back her hair and she stared at him expectantly.

"I said give me your password, not a blowjob." Your stalker frowned.

She gave him an exasperated look. "It's my face dumbass." she then snatched her phone back from him.

"You don't use your thumb? What kind of update is that?"

"God, you're so poor." He heard her mutter.

That was so unwarranted, and sort of hurt.

Though it made him feel a lot better when he finally decided to slit her throat. Now that she was distracted, he discreetly pulled out the steak knife from his pocket before he dropped her bag and roughly yanked her back to him. His hand clamped over her mouth to muffle her screams as he dragged the serrated blade across her neck. The knife sawed through flesh, muscle, and sinew, blood spurting and gushing with each desperate pulse of her heart. It took him a while to sever her head completely, his arm burning with exhaustion as he hacked away, the blade catching on bone and gristle, her life draining away in a torrent of crimson.

Your stalker wiped his bloodied hand on her dress, he grabbed the phone off the ground, and he groaned when he saw that the screen was cracked. He tried his best to work the damn thing, his finger poking at the messaging app multiple times before it decided to open. Daniella had a plentiful amount of unsaved numbers but they had weird emojis next to them. One number was from a different country and had the eggplant emoticon.

Then he found the only saved number: y/n.

You're apparently a good girl and shared your location with your best friend. How adorable, you even share every given moment with her too. You even talked about how you were thinking about going back to your serial cheater of an ex.

Your stalker gasped, his head reeling back in shock. You were about to go back to your ex? Your ex, of all people? You couldn't have, what—moved on like a normal person? You couldn't have gone out and fucked around with someone new? Someone like him? It's like you purposely make the wrong choices just to be saved. Before he could be your little personal super hero... his eyes slowly made its way back to the body on the ground, and then to the keys that were in her bag.

Have you ever heard of cuteness aggression? The rush of impulsive behavior that you get after seeing a cute and defenseless puppy? I get that when I see you. I think you're so adorable that it makes my heart burst. Your stalker stared up into your apartment, and the car windows were rolled down to air out the perfume he dumped into the body bag.

However, there was nothing cute about this ugly pig-like fuck that touched your waist. That man had no redeeming qualities, and boy, did I want him to start squealing in pain. I wanted to pinch his body until he had yellowish-brown bruises all over. I wanted to crush his skull with my bare hands and feel his pulse drop. I wanted to be able to drink the blood shower that would come from their body and bathe in it. I want them to realize that you’re off the market, and that you’re solely mine.

They’re not good for you, love. You have seen that time and time again, and they have disappointed you before without fail; so why do you welcome them with open arms? It hurts to see your legs over their shoulders, and to see a bit of your face contorted in pleasure and ecstasy. Is it the sex? Is it the way they give you a fleeting moment of what could have been if they weren’t constantly cheating on you?

That’s pathetic, and you know it. But it’s okay, I’m willing to look past this little transgression. It’s not completely unforgivable. They must’ve broken you down and made you vulnerable enough to pull your pants down. It’s not your fault. It’s theirs.

Your stalker continued to stake out your house, patiently waiting for your ex to come down to the lobby. The moment he did, your stalker would be ready. He might not have been able to get your blood, but killing your ex and taking his was like killing two birds with one stone.

Allure: This is the first fic I wrote that actually has y/n in it! And it's pretty unedited, so if there is mistakes I will probs fix it later on. This dragged on for waaay longer than it needed and tbh, I am never writing a long fic like this again LMAO

Watch out for Sammy

sort of sam/dean drabble (557 words), kind of just a prologue but idk if i'll get around to writing more

set during stanford era, dean started taking jobs as close to stanford as he could to keep an eye on sam in his spare time until he eventually ends up just watching sam at all times when he's not on a job, but people start to notice.

content warnings: stalking, implied sex (jess/sam)

    "Sam?" He turns to face his friend, Matt, who called him. He puts a hand on Sam's shoulder to lean in a little so he could be heard over the music. "I don't wanna worry you, but there's a guy over by the bar that's been watching you the whole time we've been here."

     Without turning his head, Sam flicks his eyes to the side, seeing the bar in his periphery. His nostrils flare as he tries to contain a smile. Dean is there.

     "We thought maybe he just thinks you're cute but it's been hours now." Jess, his girlfriend, says from the other side of him.

     "How do you know he's looking at me?" Sam asks unbothered. He wraps an arm around Jess's waist and kisses her cheek before continuing. "Maybe he was looking at the beautiful girl next to me." Despite herself, Jess laughs a little. Matt doesn't find it too funny. 

     "It's definitely you," he reiterates with his big arms crossed over his chest. Sam lifts his eyebrows seeing how genuinely concerned Matt seems. "When you went to the bathroom, he got up and followed you. You didn't see him in there?"

     Sam shakes his head. Dean would never come that close and make it too obvious. Then again, he clearly isn't being very subtle if other people are noticing. Humming, Matt tenses.

     "Want me to tell him to back off?" He asks seriously, making Sam smile.

     "It's fine. He hasn't done anything." Though Sam doesn't mind his brother's antics, Matt and Jess are clearly perturbed at the thought of someone watching him. "Are you guys ready to go then?"

     "Yeah, sure," Jess chirps. They hadn't planned to be out long anyway, so they agree to leave. Matt calls for a cab, and as it pulls away, Sam clasps his hand with Jess's as they begin to walk the few blocks back to their apartment. 

     With one hand busy, he shoves the other into his jacket pocket and fidgets with a loose string. He tries not to be obvious, but every time he passes a window or car mirror, he checks behind them to catch a glance of Dean. By the time he and Jess get home, he still hasn't seen Dean, and he's not disappointed...

     Being chivalrous, he lets Jess into their apartment building first, and if his eyes dart around the street when he closes the door, that's just just to check there's no danger lurking outside. 

     It takes him so long to finally close the door that Jess is already in the bedroom when he locks it. She's waiting for him when he steps into the dimly lit room, sitting almost naked on the close side of the bed. He smiles as he moves towards her, taking her face in his hands and leaning down to kiss her.

     Her leg hooks over Sam's hip as she gently pulls him on top of her as she lies back. He laughs as they fall back. Pushing himself up, he lifts his shirt. Just as it covers his eyes, he notices the curtains are left open, and as his clothes drop to the floor, and his mouth presses against his girlfriend's neck, he can't help but keep an eye on the window, wondering if anyone would climb the fire escape stairs and look through.

Persistance gets you somewhere

Pairing: Dark Peter Parker x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Peter is very insistent in getting a date with you, even if you don’t want to.

WARNINGS: Harassment; Stalking; Incel vibes; Implied future Non-con.

AN: Hope you guys like it and give me feedback, thanks :)

--

“C’mon, it’s just one date. You’ll like it, I promise.”

You ignore Peter as you continue to fill his cup with hot coffee. You were slowly starting to get annoyed at Peter’s persistence, especially when you’ve already told him no so many times. Seems like he just can’t understand that you’re not interested in him as he repeatedly keeps coming into the coffee shop you work at, always repeating his offer.

Maybe you should be a little creeped out at Peter’s obscene insistancy but you can’t, not when Peter looks so normal, always so awkward. He wasn’t a bad guy, you’re sure of that. Maybe just a little too persistent. 

“Peter, you need to stop it. You’re a great guy, I promise,” his eyes light up at your compliment only to darken at your following words. “but I’m not interested. Sorry.” 

He scoffs, his whole demeanor changing drastically at your definite refusal. You try to ignore him as you finally finish filling his cup but just as you’re about to walk away, his hand grabs your wrist, stopping you. 

“Why are you acting so bratty? You think you’re better than me or something? Am I not worth your precious time?” he growls, his hold on your wrist drastically tightening which makes you whimper. You try to twist it, hoping to release it from Peter’s hand.

“Let me go, please. Peter, stop-”

“Everything good here?” a deep voice interrupts the two of you. Craig, your boss, diverts his eyes to Peter’s hand, still closed around your wrist.

Peter immediately weakens his grasp and you take the chance to brusquely withdraw your hand, practically hiding it in your uniform’s pocket. You don’t miss the way Peter’s eyes flash with anger, but right now you’re just glad Craig is here. 

“I was just talking to her, no big deal.” Peter exclaims, jaw clenching as he looks at the older man. Your boss sternely nods, turning back at you.

“I think we need you back at the counter.” you nod, hurriedly grabbing the coffee pot and returning to the balcony, where your co-worker Sasha is standing there with wide eyes. 

“Wow, what was that about?” she asks, but you don’t reply, merely shrugging your shoulders. Your hands can’t stop shaking and you’re just glad that you’re back into the counter.

“He was just a bit….stubborn.” you reply, your eyes itching to look back at Peter but you don’t dare yourself to do so, too afraid Peter would understand that as a signal to approach you again. Sasha clearly doesn’t have the same problem. 

“Dude is still staring at you. In a weird way.” she informs you. You can feel the weight of his eyes on you, it makes you feel even more insecure and scared. Had you misjudged Peter that badly? 

“Oh wait, he’s finally leaving.” Sasha whispers, nudging you with her arm. You turn around just in time to meet Peter’s glare before he walks to the door, leaving the place. His glare makes a shiver run down your spine, the way his usually sweet eyes are now filled with hate.

You force yourself to get back to work and to ignore what just happened. You rationalize it by pretending that he’s just being pushy, that’s all. Not an uncommon thing for waitresses, although it never happened to you.

Until now. 

You feel a pair of eyes following you as you move down the street. It’s subtle but it’s still there. It makes you weary and you speed up your pace. The street is quite empty, late afternoon darkness starting to settle down. 

Clutching your purse closer to your body, you practically run until you’ve reached another street. Discreetly looking over your shoulder, you catch a hooded figure walking towards you at a rushed pace. 

You lose your calm.

Breaking into a sprint, you finally reach your building that unfortunately has a broken lock on the entrance. Galloping towards the stairs, fast steps are heard. 

You arrive at your door, completely out of breath. When trying to take the keys out of the suitcase, they fall to the floor, distracting you. Meanwhile, the footsteps are dangerously approaching and you can hear someone ascending through the stairs. 

You start panicking even more, desperately trying to get the keys to open the door. No one is going to help you, you know that, that’s what you get for living in a bad neighborhood. 

Just as you pull the key into the lock, you’re pushed against the door. A man crashes into you, forcing your body flat against the door. You try to struggle yet you’re not a match for your attacker, who easily overpowers you as he harshly pushes your face against the cold surface. 

Tears build in your eyes while your heart thumps in your chest. You almost feel nauseated from fear, but you don’t dare to say a single word as you hope that he takes your purse and leaves you alone. 

For your dismay, the man presses himself harder against you, his face awfully close to your face, making you impulsively close your eyes. He sniffs you and the moans.   

“You always smell so good, you know that?” 

Your eyes widen with shock.

Peter.

You yelp, trying to force him off you. “Peter, please. Let me go, okay? We can talk about this and-” 

You’re cut off when he rapidly turns you around, forcing you to face him. He shoves his face impossibly closer  to you, a deranged look coloring his eyes. It makes you gulp in fear.

“We’re way past talking now, don’t you think? I wanted to be a nice guy but you just had to act like a complete brat and ruin everything.” he growls, lifting his fingers to touch your cheek.

He’s so close that you can feel his warm breath brushing against your lips. His hand lowers until it ghosts around your breasts, softly caressing it. 

“Now, I'm done being nice so we’re going to do this my way.” an evil smile lifts his lips and you feel cold inside.

“So let’s get inside and have a good time, shall we?”