S.t.a.l.k.e.r. - Tumblr Posts
If you want to support me not with money but dopamine please read my gay stalker romance! :3
Gay stalker story part 1 I'm walking home from school, and I'm feeling a bit on edge as of late. For several months, I've had the feeling that someone's watching and following me even though I turn around and it's clear no one's there. I'm almost at my house. I cross the road, and when I look back and forth, something, someone catches my eyes. There he is across the street near the park, which is that weird kid from my school. He's skinny and frail like he hasn't eaten in months. He wears a black baggy oversized shirt with Messy black fluffy hair and a crazy look in his eyes. It's always doing weird things at school, like I can tell how he nudges his desk closer to me and how he turns completely in his seat just to stare at me. I remember when I left my reusable mask in the classroom, and then when I wanted to look for it, it was missing. The scary part was that he was the last person in the classroom. When I turn to see him, he wigs out, shaking and looking back and forth like he's pretending he didn't see me. He quickly turns around and scampers off, I notice he drops something, though. My curiosity gets the better of me, so I run towards the park and see a little piece of paper. As I unfold it, I freeze in shock. It's a picture of me with Messy handwriting spelling out, "You are so special." My eyes widen, and my lips quiver. Oh my God, my suspicions were right! It wasn't just my imagination. He has been the one following me! oh god oh fuck! As soon as soon as I get home I run straight up to my room, not even leaving anytime for my family to say hello to me. Just waiting for tomorrow. The next day when I get to school I see the weird kid and he's constantly hovering around me yet far away still. Standing near Corners anxiously like he's wanting to approach me. He asks the teacher to go to the bathroom and a couple hours later he comes out at recess looking like he's in worse condition than he already is.
Gay stalker story part 2
He goes up to me and timidly hands me a paper, stealing a squeeze of my hand as he passes it. It reads how he's sorry if he scared me at all when I saw him yesterday and talks about how he understands my thoughts and knows what I deal with and how I'm so special and he just wants to help with my struggles. The note basically walks around how he is stalking me. No, you've been stalking me for months, leaving me anxious! I don't forgive you! Just then, he goes completely silent, I know he wasn't talking to begin with, but now I can't even hear him breathe. His eyes freeze, and his pupils dilate. I can sense his whole body vibrating violently. It's not even like he's going to freak out, but he's eerily calm with a frozen expression on his face. He slowly walks away. For the rest of the day, he doesn't even open his mouth to breathe he just sits there staring into space. The next day, when I go to school, I notice bandages running up from his wrists to his shoulders. As the day goes by, some bandages fall off, revealing red slashes still with dried blood all over them. I really hope that isn't because of me, I think to myself, but I think it is. After school, I'm in my room and thinking about what I saw today. I feel kind of bad, so the next day at school, I go up to him and apologize for my reaction. He smiles. "Don't worry, I deserved it. Besides, it wouldn't be the first time I've done it for you." I'm taking back by this. "Here, I made this for you yesterday to show you how sorry I am." From his backpack, he pulls out a box of chocolates and a cupcake. Th- thank you? "Make sure to eat it when you get home." He also hands you a card with his address and phone number. "So we can call and maybe send things to each other." Don't you need my address then? I ask. He gives me an awkward smile. Well, I kind of already know hehe… I'm walking home, thinking about the interaction I just had. I'm now on a first name basis with the creepy little weasel. I have to admit I kind of have a crush on him. I always thought I was straight. I mean, I am straight, but he definitely makes me feel a certain way, that's for sure. And in all honesty, he's kind of cute.
Gay stalker story part 4 I wake up half asleep and notice how he's grabbing on to me so tight that he's accidentally punctured holes through my shirt with his fingertips touching my chest. His frail body that's usually shaking and trembling looks somewhat at peace for the first time I've seen. He noticeably has a boner which is a little uncomfortable, so I move him to the side, but his grip strengthens even though he's asleep. So I decided to drift back off to sleep. When I wake up, I see him standing up wearing my clothes.”i- I am so sorry, your scent was just so good I needed to wear it.” It's okay, I say, but we have to get you out of here before my mom sees you. I open up the window. “but- but we'll walk to school together, right?” Okay, just wait outside my house. “No, but I wanted to make you breakfast!” I'm sorry, but no, my mom will see you and wonder what you're doing in the house. she doesn't even know you. “oh ok…” he climbs out my window and plops down into the backyard. I go downstairs, grab some breakfast for me and him, and run outside. here. “Oh my God, thank you! You didn't have to. I'm so sorry.” Don't apologize, it's okay. eat, I don't want you to starve. “you don't? Sorry, it's just people who said I looked better like this than before I was starving. my parents barely ever get food, but even when they do, I don't want to eat, to be honest. I don't want to ruin those people's perception of me if they like me this way instead.” Oh god, no. Of course, I don't want you to starve. I'm so sorry people have said that to you. He hugs me tighter. “I'm so happy my brain chose someone that's kind-hearted. Unlike last time, when my brain chose someone who didn't treat me nearly as nice as you do.” All I did was give you breakfast. “But I don't deserve anything. In fact, I deserve to be punished. Like severely.” his shirt sags down, revealing marks on his back. How mean was your past obsession? “Oh I wouldn't call them mean. They were just doing what's right, what I deserve. I would never blame them.” his eyes start to get watery. Well, I don't know. If they weren't treating you right, they don't sound very nice to me. “Thank you for being so wonderful.” Hey, it's okay, you don't need to thank me. I'm just doing what I feel is right.
Gay stalker story part 5
We head to school, and later that day at recess, I see him in the corner looking like he wants to walk up to me but is nervous to do so. I grab his hand and pull him towards me. it's okay. You're allowed to hang out with me. but my classmates pulled me aside. “Hey dude, what are you doing? the kid’s kind of creepy, especially to you. you shouldn't endorse that kind of behaviour. if you let him get away with it, he'll know he can do more.” I don't know what to say. I mean, they're probably right, but he seems harmless enough at the moment, but I understand it should be something to take into consideration if things get out of hand. For the rest of the day, he stuck with me but looked shy and wary of other people. After school, we walked home together, of course. I told him he could come into my room again tonight and his face lit up. It's kind of cute, to be honest, seeing them this happy. Later that night, he comes up to me excitedly and says. “Hey there's something I’ve been really wanting to show you, and since you've been so nice to me, I think it was a good time.” Okay, I say. He takes my hand and leads me out the window and on top of the roof. “Okay now just follow me” he steps back and runs across the roof, jumping onto another one, barely making it yet still graceful in doing so. “don't worry, I'll catch you if you fall.” I gather up my courage, step back and run, jumping, and I slip grabbing onto the edge of the roof. He grabs me, looking intensely into my eyes. his eyes glistening in the Moonlight. he surprisingly is able to pull me up, and I fall on top of him. He's looking euphoric as ever staring at me. He gets up, and for the first time, he looks almost confident like a leader of some sort. He grabs my hand and tells me to jump when he says so. We run across the rooftops "jump," and we make it. We're running and jumping all across the neighbourhood secret shortcuts, and we even come across some wooden ramps put in place for easy access. When Crossing along a log placed in between two houses, he starts talking. "You know this is how I would stalk you if you wanted to know. It started with a quick run up to a roof to avoid you seeing me, and then I started doing it more. Eventually, I put up these wooden planks and logs to make the places I would see you the most easier to head to. I never meant to stalk you… I'm sorry. originally, I just wanted to go up to talk to you, but I got so nervous. The thought of a bad impression happening hurt me so much. The stress was causing so much pain that the doctor said it was burning a hole in my stomach. I didn't even know that was a thing that could happen. Eventually, I started making up scenarios with you in my head. My mind filled out your imperfections with my default likes. I made you the perfect person for me. it's like when you're in an online game, it's easier to make friends because everyone is anonymous, so you don't have your biases you usually would in real life. your brain just fills in the gaps with what you would want that person to look like… Oh, we're here!" We climb up a rather large roof, and then I see it because we're in a rather dark part of town. You can see a whole Starry Sky with the closest view to the Moon you can get. it looks beautiful, the giant moon in complete darkness surrounded by tiny glistening glittery dots. We stare at each other in front of it, and we inch closer. I hold his hand, and he hugs me. We sit on the ledge of the roof and stare at the beautiful view together. “I hope you like it"
Did a character redesign for my gay stalker story characters
Oldish drawing I forgot to post
What if my gay stalker story was a show??? :0
Apathetic-Misplaced
Rounding the corner, you treaded further into the kitchen, urging not to wake your mother. It was hard enough to get her to sleep, let alone keep her like that. Your toe stubbed slightly against the bottom of the kitchen counter as you reached for the cabinet with the mugs.
Oddly, as you searched for your favorite one, it seemed to be gone. Having been sure you put it up with the load of dishes you'd done yesterday, you checked once again, not doubting yourself to have missed it in the dim light the early winter mornings would provide.
Looking back down, annoyed, you saw it. Resting a foot away, sat next to the sugar and spoon, was the mug, a teabag already placed inside. This week had been stressful, you chopped the appearance simply to a simply forgotten task.
You smiled to yourself, taking the cup in your hand and heading to the stovetop. Placing the kettle on the heating burner, you waited patiently on your phone, scrolling, disinterested in what your friends had done over the weekend.
Your heart clenched at a certain sight; it was a picture of Nina, a girl you thought would live forever. Alas, she's gone now. Not necessarily dead but missing. So, no matter how you look at it, she's gone.
All you truly craved was closure.
Resting your phone face down, you hopped up as the kettle began to scream. Pulling it from the burner, you placed it on a different one, waiting a still moment before beginning to pour the boiling water into the mug.
After you did, you slowly sipped on the scalding liquid, tossing your head back as you mentally psyched yourself up to get through the day. It wouldn't be too bad, working at a little gas station, if you weren't fifteen miles from the musty place.
You walked slowly to your bedroom, socks scuffling against the kitchen's hardwood floor. You slipped off the flimsy night shirt you'd been wearing changing into a new bra and shirt. Not much of a shirt, really, more like a big sweater. It was (f/c) and knit tightly. Black leggings to match, you supposed.
It was winter. You were behind a counter most of your day. Who cares what you wore?
Going back into the kitchen, deciding you'd eat before work, meaning you didn't have to come out from behind the counter and be ogled at by creeps without morals. Yeah, it was better to eat at home.
Gliding on your shoes, you tied the laces up neatly. As you headed back into the kitchen, another odd sight struck you. The sugar had been returned to its spot; the spoon was in the sink. Knitting your eyebrows together, you figured, once again, that it was just a subconscious act of yours.
I do this every morning, so it's routine of me to put it away, you told yourself. But as the morning's occurrences replayed, your mind went, instead, to worst-case scenarios. Once again, rationality got the better of you, and your mind decided you had forgotten; done it without a second thought.
But you didn't remember the part where you forced yourself to keep quiet for your mother's sake.
It was early, too early, to be awake for work. I mean, you worked nights. But groceries were a necessity, and starving wasn't on your mind lately. Not yet. Grabbing your wallet and phone, you were on your way out the door.
Clambering into the cold car, you turned on the heat, but without time to waste, you drove off. You played a few songs on your way, preferring the familiar music to the silence. As you pulled up to the Walmart, you climbed out again.
Opening the notes app on your phone, you checked the list again, unsure of what you needed. "Milk, eggs, butter, toilet paper, shampoo." you read. Nodding to yourself, you walked inside, grabbing a rattling cart from the hoard. First, you made your way to the dairy, grabbing the milk, eggs, and butter, and placing them in the bottom of the rattly cart.
Next, you walked to the aisles with all the hygiene products. Grabbing your usual brand of shampoo and toilet paper, you made your way to the checkout. At the register, you grabbed a pack of gum. Minute but nice.
The man in front of you quickly had his minimal number of items scanned, but he didn't tread too far, visibly distracted by something on his yellow hoodie. He was tall, with disheveled light brown hair, and pale. very pale; he looked sickly. As the cashier scanned your items, the dead look on her face not softened, she read your total. "Fifteen-eighty-two," she mumbled. Opening your wallet, you searched in fear for your card.
As your mind began to whirl and sway, a voice spoke up. You only had so much cash on you; not enough to pay the due, however. Your shaky hand brought her the ten dollars you had in cash, but she continued staring at you, waiting. "I'll cover it," the man offered. "Oh, no. You don't have to-" you assured, quickly being cut off as he handed the cashier the exact change.
"Thank you so much, sir," you thanked. "It's human kindness," he joked. "Still, thank you." you sighed, thankful. "Keep yourself safe," he said, walking away, off into the crowd of people, many shorter than him. He headed in the opposite direction that you were going, much to your disappointment.
It would have been nice to know his name, you thought. Dawdling around the flooded store, you glanced around, bored. You thought about how pale he was. Tired of ogling at items you'll never buy, or afford, you left.
You smiled to yourself at the sweet interaction, not having experienced a true act of human decency in so long. Living away from everyone in the countryside could do that to someone - make you a recluse-, but you didn't really mind.
Striding back to your car, you placed your bags of groceries, finding yourself questionably searching for the man, even without realizing it. Turning over the ignition in the car, you drove off, pulling onto the foggy road. As the road cleared, leaving you nearly alone, aside from the few cabins and cars, you noticed one thing in particular: a beat-up, blue pickup truck behind you.
Its paint chipped, revealing the rusty color beneath the facade of color. The headlights were still on, which was fair, considering the fact it was dark, still. That's winter, you thought. Heart in your throat, you sped up, only to notice how their speed was in sync with yours; they sped as you did, and slowed as you did.
As you pulled into your driveway, breaths of relief flooded out of your lungs, watching as the truck drove on, the driver you didn't see. Silently entering the home, you brought in the bags, smiling still at the man's kindness.
After you unpacked the groceries, you went to check on your mother once again. She was fine. Now, sleep was in your mind. Falling, exhausted, into your bed, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut, falling asleep.
As your eyes flickered open, the smell of coffee greeted you. Smiling to yourself, you made your quiet way to the kitchen, sitting down at the kitchen table. "Hi, Mom," you greeted. "Hey, hon," she replied, not meeting your eyes as she washed the dishes from this morning. "Hey, (y/n)?" she said again. You hummed lowly.
"Try not to use so many dishes when you make your tea, okay?" she muttered. "I only used one this morning." you denied. "Well, there are two cups in the sink, and it doesn't make sense." she replied. "Maybe you just forgot; I know you're stressed lately," she whispered. "I guess," you agreed.
"Well, it's almost time for you to get ready, and I made some coffee for you," she said. "I know," you sighed.
Sluggishly walking back to your room, you slipped on a white shirt, staying in the same undergarments as this morning, feeling it dumb to change. With a black zip-up hoodie over leggings, simple shoes, and your (h/c) (h/l) brushed.
No makeup needed.
You grabbed the thermos that'd been set on the counter and poured your coffee into it, adding the milk and sugar. This time, you put the sugar and spoon away. Fiddling with the lid, you finally fit it tight to the bottle, sighing deeply as you left. But not before telling your mother you loved her.
Phone, keys, thermos, wallet. That's all you needed. As you arrived, you pulled up, checking your wallet for a hair tie. Oddly, and to your horror, your card was in its usual spot. Heart in your throat, you took a hair tie out, assuming your coworker would ask for one before she went on her delivery trips.
You were right.
"Hey, do you have a hair tie?" she asked, pulling her ginger hair into a hold with her hand. Wordlessly, you handed it to her, walking behind the counter after tying your apron on. You leaned against the counter, waiting, as a man walked in. His hair was a deep, rich brown, falling above his eyes. Speaking of his eyes, they glanced at you, brown and tired. Bags were under them, falling into a sullen frown as you looked his face over.
He smiled quickly, turning away as he walked the aisles of the gas station, silent, almost. He made no sound when he walked, and you wondered how such a tall, built man could be so utterly stealthy. He opened a freezer in the back, pulling out a drink. You couldn't quite see what it was until he stepped into another aisle; the aisle with chips.
A bag rustled and he walked back to you. Placing the items on the counter, you realized that it was alcohol and some plain potato chips. "ID?" you requested. He handed you a small, plastic card. Taking it in your hand, you examined it. "What's your birthday?" you asked.
Looking closer at the ID, you realized that his name was Timothy, but his last name you didn't see, not before he answered, making you gaze back at him. He answered, holding his hand out expectantly. You handed him his ID and scanned his items. "Have a nice day, sir," you said, smiling as he walked off wordlessly.
The bell rang as he left.
Another hour or so passed by, and only a handful of interactions, left you alone with your thoughts, the buzzing of the lights, and the low, humming music from the store. You walked to the back of the store, grabbing a drink, water.
Putting the money in the register, you began to drink slowly, nearly gagging and spitting up the water as a figure towered over you. "Hi, I'm sorry. You scared the life out of me!" you joked, coughing. "Oh, I'm s-sorry," they apologized. Noticeably, they had a stutter.
"It's fine; you're just really quiet," you laughed again, trying to keep the mood light, despite his depressing, sorry tone. You coughed again, finally looking up at him. He had soft brown hair, covering his eyes slightly. Eyes a soft, shimmery green, though still with a sharpness. Alert.
A mask covered most of his face, obscuring your view. He was thin, you could tell, despite the large beige, brown, white, and blue hoodie he wore. "Is there anything I can do for you?" perking up, he looked at you. Without words, he walked to the back of the store. Grabbing a chocolate milk, he placed it on the counter, hands clad in what you assumed to be leather. "That all?" you checked.
He nodded wordlessly, mask shifting, as if he were chewing on his cheek. Ringing him up, "A dollar and eighty-nine cents, please," you requested.
He fished out some money and planted it on the counter, and you gave him the milk. "Thank you, have a nice day!" You chirped.
He walked out with a "you, too" and nothing else; not even a thumbs up.
--
Hours passed with nothing more than interactions and nearly slamming your head into the counter as you accidentally drifted off.
Now, it was time to go home. You waited for your coworker, and left when she got there. "Bye," she shouted. Waving, you left.
-- Once you arrived home, the rooms silent, you walked to the kitchen. There was a steaming mug of coffee, a sticky note placed on its side. "Just how you like it!" With a smiling face at the end. You smirked at the gesture, taking a small sip. And, indeed, it was just how you liked it.
Honestly, you hadn't even figured that your mother paid attention while you were around her. Heading back to your room, you found that your laundry was already folded on the bed.
"That's sweet, " you thought. Hanging your clothes and putting them into the drawers, you noticed another note. "This week will be full of surprises!" It read, the same handwriting as the note on the mug.
You put the clothes away correctly, lying disc on the clear bed. Before you feel asleep, you decided a shower was needed. As you entered the bathroom, you peeled off your clothes, strong into the scalding water.
It felt good against your cold skin, though. As you reached for your soap, you realized it was small and used up. Soon, you'd have to buy more. After washing your hair and body, you clambered out, wrapping a towel around yourself.
Falling back into your bed, you didn't bother to change. It's not like you had anywhere to be; not for a while, anyway. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you fell asleep.
--
A knock at your door awoke you, making your eyes spring open and your body jolt up. "Mom?" You questioned. No answer. "Mom?" You repeated, louder than before.
Opening the door, still in your towel, your heart dropped, but your grip on the cloth didn't. Thankfully. There stood a tall man, at least six foot, dressed in a mustard colored hoodie, denim pants, and steel-toe boots.
But the worst part, you were sure, was what state down. Where his face should be, instead, a black mask with two circles. Eyes. And one upside down U. A frown.
Your words caught in your throat as you tried to choke something, anything, out. His breath was muffled against the mask, and would have been falling on top of your head if not for the cloth.
After a moment of silence, you spoke up, still so scared. "What do you want?" You choked out. Without speaking, he shoved past you, walking to the corner of your room.
He simply snatched your little collection of sticky notes, holding them up to you. Pointing at the second one you'd received, the one about the surprising week, and tapped it lightly, mask shifting slightly.
You assumed he was smiling.
Apathetic-Wounded
You shook your head, disbelief flooding through you. "No." You denied. He nodded. "Yes." He retorted. He shoved past you again, leaning down once he reached you. "It's nice to see you up close, (y/n)." He muttered, exiting.
With a surge of confidence, or sheer stupidity, - likely the latter -, you grabbed his wrist. He turned around. "What do you want?" You snapped.
He laughed, but it was horrifyingly gravely and deep, and you didn't know what to make of it. With a strong grip on his wrist, him staring you down, and your face like a deer in headlights, he laughed.
Moving his hand to his pocket, he pulled something out. It was shimmery and sleek grey; there was a click sound, and the safety was off his gun. He did it skilfully, one handed. He tapped the cold barrel against the underneath of your chin.
You let go before he could say anything, though, you doubted he would've. "You're welcome. " he said. You held your breath, stepping back into your room as he left, somewhere out of sight.
There was no sound. Not the opening of closing of a door, not the jingle of keys. But after a moment, there was one: the sound of the kettle going off. You slowly entered the kitchen, skin crawling and heart thumping so violently against your ribs.
There was a mug, a foot away from the cabinet with the rest of the mugs. The sugar rested next to it. The spoon was on the sugars lid. And there was a teabag already in the cup.
The kettle continued to screech until you placed it on the other burner. Sitting against the counter top, you recalled the notes and the strangely sweet things.
Once again, there was a note. This time, it read,"Sorry for the scare!" In big, black ink. You sighed, thinking of what he could want. If he wanted money, then he was in the wrong place.
But he'd have to know that. He knew how you liked your coffee. What else could he truly want? Your mind flickered, and you needed to check on your mother. Dashing to her room, you quietly opened the door, only to find her awake, playing on her phone.
"Did you hear anything?" You asked, attempting to hide the absolute fear and panic that was sure to be lacing your voice. She shook her head, gaze returning to the screen of her phone.
You bolted out of her room, gently shutting the door, of course, and searched the rest of the house. After countless times of checking the rooms, you returned to yours, but not after making sure everything was locked.
After plopping on the bed, you shut your eyes, praying to wake up and have it all be a dream. But it wasn't, and you couldn't wake up from real life. Your phone buzzed lightly on the foot of your bed, and you picked it up, glancing at the screen.
It was a new message, but from a string of random numbers. This person wasn't in your contacts. You unlocked your phone, checking to see what it says. "Call the cops; I dare you!" It read.
Your heart sunk in your chest, a thundering headache splintering through your head. tears pricked at your eyes, streaming down your cheeks and falling onto the floor. "Fuck," you muttered. As you buried your face in the pillow, a scream shot out of your burning throat, being muffled by the soft fabric. "I can't do this," you thought.
Your mind scrambled, thoughts rushing back again and again to what they could want. But finally, it came back to the one possibility. You. They could want you.
