Request: Yes / No Thank you @badthingshappenbingo for my card!
Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night
Jamie Hunter x Fem!Reader
Word count: 1654
Warnings: Stalking, obviously, threats nothing specific, just all over creepy vibe
Y/N: Your Name
Prompt(s):
PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!
If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you!
Masterlist
If you enjoy my work, you could also show support by buying me a coffee!
(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)
I was a rising influencer known for my stunning photos and warm, engaging personality. I never thought my online presence would bring darkness into my life. But lately, things started to drastically change…
It began innocently enough, with a few extra comments from a random follower who always seemed to be online, liking every photo within seconds of me posting. I brushed it off as a devoted fan. But soon, my inbox was flooded with messages from the same account, filled with desperate pleas for my attention and praise that quickly turned obsessive. I felt a slight chill, but still, assumed it was harmless, even if it was a bit unsettling. Then the gifts started arriving at our doorstep. Flowers, chocolates, and written letters filled with disturbing confessions of love and longing. The handwriting was scratchy and unsteady, the words held desperation that twitched my stomach in knots.
I tried to shrug it off, refusing to let fear control my life. I wasn’t one to be scared by strangers on the internet. But it became harder to ignore when my admirer’s messages grew more sinister, more possessive.
‘I know where you live.’
‘You won’t have to wait much longer. I’m coming to see you.’
It wasn’t surprising when Jamie noticed my anxiety. He saw the way I jumped at every unexpected sound, the way I would stare at my phone with a mix of dread and anger whenever a new message came in. One night, when Jamie found me trembling by the window, my phone clutched tightly in my hand, I finally broke down. I told him everything. Jamie was horrified, immediately wanting to go to the police, but I hesitated, unsure what they would even do without a clear identity to go after.
There was one night when Jamie stayed late at work, leaving me alone in our apartment. I tried to distract myself with a movie, but my phone chimed. Another message. I took a deep breath and opened it.
‘I’m closer than you think.’
The blood drained from my face. I double-checked the locks on every window, and every door, my heart racing with each passing second. Just as I was about to call Jamie, my phone chimed again. This time, it was a photo. A photo of me, sitting on the couch. It was taken from just outside the window.
Fear tightened my chest, but I forced myself to move, calling 911. Then came the sound of footsteps in the hall, slow and deliberate. I froze, feeling trapped, unable to think straight. The doorknob rattled slightly, a faint scraping sound followed it and my mind raced as I wondered if I should make a run for it.
Suddenly, there was a loud bang on the door and I heard Jamie’s voice calling my name. Relief washed over me as I unlocked the door and threw myself into his arms, tears streaming down my face.
We called the police that night. When the officers arrived, they found no trace of anyone outside, but they discovered a small note tucked under the welcome mat…
‘I’ll be seeing you soon.’
“I’ll protect you, Y/N. I promise.” Jamie said and I knew he meant it.
After that night, my life became a blur of heightened security and a gnawing sense of paranoia. Jamie took charge of adding cameras around the apartment, setting up motion-activated lights, and insisting I keep my location private on social media. We agreed I would take a break from posting, but it was hard. My work relied on being visible, and each day offline felt like another part of my identity was slipping away. But I was determined to stay safe, to take control of my life again.
The messages kept coming though. The police tracked the account and found it was created under a fake name and routed through several proxies. My stalker knew exactly how to evade detection and it frustrated me to no end. I tried to ignore the messages. Tried not to think about his promises of how he’d ‘be with her soon’, but they grew increasingly disturbing, like he knew about my every move.
‘I know Jamie’s gone right now. It’s just us.’
It made my skin crawl. Jamie had only left for a quick errand. I glanced at the locked door, my eyes darting to the shadows outside the window. A sinking feeling in my gut became constant and every sound set my nerves on edge…
Once night, I came home to find a small package on the doorstep. I hesitated, my hands hovering over the box. The packaging was plain, but something about it felt wrong. I brought it inside, my fingers trembling as I tire off the wrapping. Inside was a small hand-sewn doll, crudely made with dark thread and dressed in clothing that eerily resembled my favorite outfit. There was a note too, in that familiar scratchy handwriting.
‘soon, you’ll have nowhere to hide.’
I didn’t sleep that night and neither did Jamie. We called the police again, but this time, the officers seemed more sympathetic. The threats had escalated and with physical evidence of a stalking, they had grounds to dig deeper.
Over the next few days, the police managed to uncover new information. The stalker was more than just a random follower, he was a man with a criminal past, someone who had harassed women before. Yet, his identity remained unclear, slipping through their grasp as if he knew how to evade every attempt to track him down. Jamie insisted on staying with me at all times, following me everywhere. I found myself jumping at every shadow and every glance from a stranger. I was afraid to open my phone, terrified of what I might see, but the messages never stopped. One night, I received a text that froze my blood. It was from an unknown number, but the message was chillingly familiar…
‘You look beautiful tonight. Red’s your color.’
My heart sank. I was wearing a red dress, something I just put on a few minutes ago. I spun around, my eyes scanning every inch of our apartment, the parking lot outside, the neighboring buildings but there was no sign of him. Jamie noticed my distress and I showed him the message, my hands shaking as I held my phone.
“Enough is enough.” He said, his voice cold and determined.
“We’re not letting him do this to you. We’re getting out of here and we’re not coming back until you’re safe.” We packed a few bags, left the apartment that night, and checked into a hotel on the other side of the city. Jamie assured me that we’d be safe. We’d figure out how to make it all stop. But deep down, a part of me felt like the stalker would never let me go.
The next morning, I woke up to a faint scratching sound at the hotel room door. I held my breath, frozen in place, praying it was just my imagination. Then I heard it again, louder like someone was trying to pick the lock.
“Jamie, someone’s at the door…” I reached over shaking him awake. He immediately jumped out of bed, grabbing the room’s phone and dialing for security. We both stared at the door, waiting, the silence stretching between us. After what felt like an eternity, the scratching stopped. Moments later, security arrived and checked the hallway, but there was no one there. The stalker had disappeared, leaving only a sense of dread in his wake. Security found another note outside the door, scrawled on the back of one of my recent Instagram posts.
‘There’s nowhere you can hide from me.’
This forced Jamie and myself to make a choice. We weren’t going to live in fear any longer. Jamie reached out to a private investigator friend and with our combined efforts, we pierced together more clues about my stalker’s identity. Bit by bit, we uncovered details that painted a clear picture of who this man was. A loner with a disturbing history of obsessing over women online, someone who had likely been following my movements for months, maybe even years.
In the meantime, Jamie took every possible measure to keep me safe. We moved to a temporary location, this time one the stalker couldn’t easily find. I also limited my social media activity, switching to posting only through a secure, monitored account with strict privacy settings.
Finally, after weeks of work, Jamie’s friend tracked down a solid lead. The man had been leaving digital traces every time he accessed my accounts and sent his threatening messages. He forwarded this information to the police, who used it to locate his address.
On a rainy afternoon, we received the news, the police had arrested my stalker. They found him in a small, cluttered apartment, surrounded by a disturbing shine of photos, notes, and items he’d collected about me. I was shaken to my core, but it was over. He was in custody, facing serious charges, and I knew that justice was finally being served.
The weight of my fear finally started lifting. For the first time in months, Jamie and I could breathe freely. I began to post cautiously, reestablishing my online presence, this time with better security and Jamie’s support every step of the way. As we were relaxing on the couch in our new, secure apartment, I leaned against Jamie. I was grateful for everything he did for me.
“I don’t know what I would have done without you.” I said softly, looking up at him with a warm smile. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close.
“You’re the strongest person I know. You faced him and you took your life back. I’m just glad I could be here for you.” I snuggled deeper into his side, sighing happily. Jamie and I could finally have a normal life again.
