#Stalker Love

[mr-payjay]

doodle dump

[meowserz]

[weatherwaxironboots]

Are you feeling obsessive about someone you met once and are now creeping yourself out?

Well this is a playlist for you

[little-luna4256]

Has anyone else had the amazing pleasure of hearing something while they sleep?

I’m not talking about how sometimes they mumble even though that’s really cute. Talking about the times when you can hear them whimpering, you can hear the most subtle of groans coming from them.

He made a noise and I just couldn’t help myself anymore. I couldn’t just stand still when I knew that right on the other side of that phone screen he was whimpering and making noises while in his slumber button something else happened that sent me right over the edge and did something I never knew Happened outside of books.

He said my name.

While in his sleep, after all the noises that I heard, during what I was doing to myself at the thought of him, I heard my name. I froze at first because I thought maybe I had accidentally un muted and he could hear what I was doing, but no, maybe he had woken up and he wanted to see if I was up too.

But that wasn’t it

I know that when I go down my little spiral, I become a little obsessive and I want nothing more than to be everything they crave but when he does things like that, it just sends me over the edge. It’s more than just how I want him or how much I want to be with him. It’s about, how I crave him. his touch, his voice, his gaze, his words…. Everything. I’ve said many times how I want nothing more than to just be a drug to him. Something that he needs and craves and can never get enough of something like this makes it even worse I want to be his drug, his obsession, his passion… I want to be everything to him even if at the moment it can’t be romantic I still want to be at all

Maybe that’s selfish of me the fact that I can’t give him more because neither he nor I are ready for it yet. I still want to be his everything it hurts and yet when I think about it just makes me ache. It makes me crave him no matter where he is or what he’s doing or who he’s with. Whether he’s awake or asleep or busy I just want him.

Him

[notrobinsomethingworse]

Dick (Nightwing) and Jason (Robin) stare at Bruce. One sports pleading eyes, the other a shit eating grin. There’s a child between them with black hair and blue eyes.

Bruce, he doesn’t know what’s happening but he doesn’t like it: No.

Dick, grinning: He’s our younger brother now.

Jason, nodding seriously: You’re not gonna take him from us.

Tim, got kidnapped while taking photos of patrol, just happy to be there: Where’s the Batcave?

Bruce: what.

Dick, grinning wider: He’s ours now.

[vanillaicetribe]

[shithowdy]

i did old world blues with the animal friend perk and let me tell you i made SO many friends

[tovrniiquet]

[redsray]

I love the hc that Tim never really stopped taking pictures of heroes and vigilantes even after he became Robin. Not even out of hero worship or anything-- he just found it fun. In fact, being Robin just made this hobby easier to do. He has them separated in folders and definitely has blackmail photos included.

The first time Tim met the Justice League one of his first reactions was to sneakily take at least one picture of each of them. Clark vaguely heard a camera shutter but he could never find any cameras or camera owners.

Sometimes Bruce comes to him and asks for specific pictures of members of the JL doing things they shouldn't be doing i.e Barry ditching a meeting cause he was eating Chipotle in the Watchtower kitchen. No one knows how Bruce gets the pictures except for the other Batfam members.

Tim is the god of blackmail right behind Babs. You need older blackmail or videos? Go to Babs. But Good quality blackmail photos? Tim is your guy.

He has at least 4 folders full of pictures of Dick specifically. One for his time as Robin, one for Nightwing, one for Discowing and one for just Dick.

He also manages to have pictures he definitely should not have because how did you get into the cave before you were Robin, Tim, but he refuses to elaborate on those. i.e Robin Jason out of costume, cozily reading at the batcomputer ("seriously, Tim, that's creepy"), Dick when he first adopted Haley ("were you there when I rescued her?!"), Damian training with the League of Assassins ("how the hell did you get that"), Duke back during the We Are Robin movement ("I do not remember you pulling out any cameras what the hell")

[readwritealldayallnight]

It didn’t matter how long or short you were apart, Simon always brought something back for you

After each and every one of his deployments, though all you ever asked for was for him to return to you in one piece, he would find you a small souvenir, a token, a postcard, or some sort of little trinket from whichever corner of the glove he found himself in this time, keeping it near and dear to him until his feet were back on familiar ground and he could put it in your familiar hands

You had told him that it wasn’t necessary, but when he simply blinked and ask you if it made you happy, your reply was an instantaneous ‘yes’, to which he replied ‘then yes, it is necessary’

You loved and treasured all of them, multiple shelves throughout your shared flat adorned with the items that reminded you of the fact that he was always being reminded of you wherever he went

It didn’t take very long for Simon to become enamoured with your reactions each time he presented you with his newest find, wondering if whatever he picked out would make you gasp and cover your mouth, make you roll your eyes and smirk, make you laugh and squeeze his arm, each time was a guessing game that had his heart skipping a beat or two in anticipation

Soon enough, he decided he didn’t really need deployments as an excuse to surprise you, or any reason really, other than to see you smile

And so, trips to the supermarket made by Simon alone more often than not began including cupcakes in your favourite flavour

He’d come back from the mailbox and drop a single flower from someone else’s garden onto the table in front of you

Your nearly finished perfumes and lipsticks would magically find themselves replenished

But being Simon, his gifts didn’t always need to be extravagant

On the rarer occasions when he was only on base for a day, he’d often bring you back something simpler, if not sillier, like a paper clip or a sticky note with a terribly drawn doodle he’d stick to your forehead (god forbid he ever bring home a bullet casing, bragging about how he was thinking about you while he practiced shooting loads today-)

Sometimes he’d bring home a book he saw laying around the common room he thought you might enjoy

Other times he might walk into a room and notice you eyeing the hoodie he’s wearing, pulling it over his head without hesitation and offering it to you before you could even think to ask

Most of the time though, Simon was great at bringing home takeaway for dinner, a favourite sight of yours to behold as he walked through the door of the flat

Empty handed or not, so long as he was home with you , you were happy

[stars-obsession-pit]

Tim has found his soulmate (not a soulmate AU, just in the like “i think we’re totally meant to be together” way). Well, okay, it’s entirely one-sided so far, but he’s sure SpecterNova will reciprocate once they’re in proper contact.

He’s already found everything he publicly can on the youtuber, but he’s still digging deeper. It’s weirdly difficult—his love must like his privacy!—but he’s making headway.

On the other end, Danny is getting nervous about the dedication of his new internet stalker. Even with Tucker’s help in setting up his online security and the scrambling effects of ectoplasm, they can tell that the person is still making progress. They don’t seem like they’re a part of the GIW, but that doesn’t mean their search can’t harm him in some other way.

He really hopes he doesn’t have to change identities again. Having to do it the first time to flee the GIW was bad enough, and he’s been liking his current life.

[meowserz]

he carries all the bags, even the light ones, because he thinks it's embarrassing for me to carry them when he's next to me. (இ﹏இ`｡)

[atherea]

“It, uh. Had a virus.” 

“So you smashed it?” Bruce, usually quite composed, looked baffled.

“Yeah?” Tim said, like it should be obvious, “I didn’t want it to spread to my other appliances.”

Bruce looked astounded by Tim’s sheer stupidity.

fanart of ch19 of @wesslan's cards on the table, i read this all last night and its been wired in my brain since then oh my god i love all the silly moments in this fic

[little-luna4256]

[darlingsodivine]

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒅𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖.

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒍𝒔 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒍 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔, 𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒉𝒖𝒕𝒔 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏, 𝒐𝒓 𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒅.

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒆𝒙𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒃𝒆𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒅𝒊𝒅 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈. 𝑾𝒉𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒄𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈? 𝑨𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉? 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚'𝒍𝒍 𝒅𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈! 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒇𝒊𝒙 𝒊𝒕! 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒓!

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒔 𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒐𝒃𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒅𝒊𝒇𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒓- 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆. 𝑰𝒕 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑- 𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑, 𝒏𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕!

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓, 𝒏𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕.

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒖𝒑𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒕𝒐 𝒆𝒙𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈- 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏!

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒂 𝒏𝒆𝒖𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒇𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆. 𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒆?

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒉𝒖𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈'𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏. 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔! 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 - 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑- 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒊𝒙 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒎- 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈.

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒆𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒆, 𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒔- 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆! 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓! 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈!

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒂𝒑𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒊𝒛𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈'𝒔 𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒉- 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒅𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈, 𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈'𝒔 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒆.

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔, 𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒄𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆, 𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈'𝒔 𝒂𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆-

𝐈𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲! 𝐈𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲! 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝! 𝐈 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐫! 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐱 𝐢𝐭- 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭, 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐭, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞. 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞-

Lowkey rushed

[allurilove]

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