#(I LIKE THIS ONE A LOT) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hiskillingjar · 18 days ago

Text

Stalking (Lawrence/MC)

hello, you.

day 19: stalking second person

Blonde hair, pale blue eyes, the colour of sea, the colour of broken glass.

Tall, with a slightly willowy frame, but you had a sense that they were hiding a strength they didn't show to a lot of people.

Maybe they'd show it to you, though, if you were good enough.

They dressed like shit, in plaid shirts and sweat pants, work polos and fleeces when they drove to the warehouse (they worked most days, abiding by a sporadic schedule, but mostly through the night), but you didn't mind that.

You didn't look much better, you thought, as you ate your way through the local all-night takeout menu in your car. A burger in one hand and a camera in the other, which you had posed on their car all night long, waiting for them to come and go, so you could see them, even if just for a moment.

You weren't a stalker.

Stalkers did much worse than you did. Stalkers wanted to intimidate and hurt, and used the delusion of romance and gentleness to do it.

You were just...especially interested in this person.

And you were lonely. Desperately so.

Getting out of a psych ward was difficult for anyone, but it was especially hard for someone like you, someone who needed some kind of structure, a project to work on, something to make your days routine, to give them a purpose.

Lawrence gave you a structure.

You didn't need to worry about waking up or looking for a job. You didn’t need to worry about anything, really.

You just got to experience the joy of spending every minute of the day thinking about them, following them, taking pictures of them.

You took all you pictures very carefully, your skills at photography being the one thing you were relatively proud of.

You had all of them neatly sorted on your hardrive, by the location at which they were taken (the warehouse, outside their apartment, driving out into the woods late at night), and the expression they had on their face.

In some, they seemed sad. Others were happy (though those were few and far between). Mostly, it was just an empty expression, devoid of any kind of real emotions.

They were beautiful, regardless.

Maybe one day, you'd be brave enough to sneak away to their apartment while they were at work. You’d break in (pick the lock so they don’t have to replace it after) and take a moment to just sit and think about the kind of life the two of you might have shared together, had they even known who you were.

But that idea wouldn't work.

For one, you might have missed a perfect opportunity for another picture of them, with their lovely, long hair covering their face as they smoked outside the warehouse, a momentary break from pretending to be a person.

Your memory card was full of them, and yet, you always needed more.

Your thoughts and fantasies about them were growing more and more possessive, more and more unhinged (but a safe, inert kind of unhinged, of course, you weren’t a real stalker), the more time you spent watching them, taking their picture, thinking and obsessing over them.

They were an apt person to project that desire onto, though.

For one, they never seemed to speak with anyone, let alone dabble in things like friendships, relationships, dating, the like. Any polite invitation they got to join coworkers out on the town was met by a dismissive “maybe next time”, knowing there would never be a next time.

No competition.

Maybe one day, you really could just fall into their life and...fit in pefectly.

Yes.

You could fit in.

You would fit in, even if you had to remold yourself to be the perfect person for them.

They were going through a rough time right now. They were always going through a rough time right now.

So really, all you had to do was wait for them to reach a boiling point. And then, when the time was right, and they were alone and needing a friend, you would step in, a perfect stranger, and make yourself a part of their life.

You weren't a stalker.

You were just...an admirer.

And they were the perfect person for your admirations.

One night, though, while staking out the warehouse and working yourself through a family bucket of fried chicken (you needed the calories), you somehow managed to fall asleep with your head at the wheel.

You woke with a start, drooling over the leather of your car dashboard, the sun rising outside your windscreen, signifying the beginning of the day.

You sighed, not totally sure where you were or why you were doing this (your mind was never sure of anything this early), before pushing a hand through your greasy hair and pulling down the mirror in your car to inspect your reflection.

You looked tired. Your skin was pale and clammy, and you had grease and ketchup smeared on your face from last night's meal which was growing cold at your side.

Lawrence wouldn't like you like this.

How dare you look so unkempt, you thought with a curled sneer, pushing the mirror away and starting up the car with a twist of keys in the ignition.

If you wanted to be a significant person in their life, if you wanted them to even look at you with something other than disgust and disdain, how could you do it looking like a slob?

How shameful of you.

You'd have to go back to your place, shower, get a change of clothes, look your absolute best for when you did this again.

If you made the wrong impression on them, who knew if you'd get another chance.

You had to look your best.

You cursed yourself out internally for missing Lawrence leave work (when they looked prettiest, tired eyes and dressing out of their uniform), and drove back to your pitiful apartment (rented to you by your parents, they owned the building and gave you a place for next to nothing, just so they didn't have to look at you).

The door was ajar when you arrived, sporting a broken lock, and newly caked on mud which had obviously been scraped off on the doormat to avoid being trekked inside.

Odd.

You didn't remember leaving the door open. Nor did you remember your lock being broken before you left it.

With a small pit in your stomach, you gingerly approached the entrance to your apartment, stepping forward and gently nudging the door open with the toe of your sneaker, cautiously peering into the darkness.

You did your best to stay quiet, barely breathing as you walked through the familiar if darkened hallway, noticing a lamp behind the mostly-closed door of your bedroom.

Your stomach dropped suddenly.

What was going on in there?

You carefully approached the bedroom door, listening closely.

You heard the sound of slightly wet slaps and friction, combined with heavy breathing, your bed creaking underneath…whoever had broken in.

"Mmh...yeah...t-that’s it."

Your eyes widened instantly and you pushed the door open.

Lawrence was the one sitting on your bed, their lovely hair covering their red and slightly sweaty face, their perfect frame backlit by the warmth of your bedroom lamp, those glass-blue eyes widening in shock at your arrival, as they pushed themselves onto your bed like a started animal.

They had a pair of your panties in their hand, and though they had stopped when you walked in, their half-hard cock was kept upright by the waistband of their sweatpants, the palm of their other hand slick with your hand lotion.

You froze in the door frame, unable to do anything but stare.

Lawrence.

In your apartment, on your bed, holding your panties.

They were obviously as freaked out as you were (maybe more, since you weren’t really that freaked out), with a look on their (pretty, lovely, beautiful) face that suggested they didn't at all expect to be caught doing what they were doing.

"H...Hello," You mumbled softly, giving them your best approximation of a polite smile, telling them that you weren’t a threat, they could trust you. "Um...am I interrupting something?"

"...No, not...at all..."

Lawrence didn’t move from where they were sitting, still holding your underwear in their hand, their eyes flicking down to the garment and then back up to you.

Their face was burning crimson red, and they gave you an awkward smile in lieu of any kind of explanation.

So lovely.

Your could feel your heart pound erratically, like it would beat straight out of your ribcage, and every inch of your body practically melted with fondness at that rare but wonderful smile.

"You...can keep going, if you want to?" You offered softly.

"Wh-what?!" The words came out as a sharp whisper, and their voice was somehow shakier than it had been before, staring at you like you had suggested something quite bizarre (and maybe you had, you weren’t used to this sort of interaction). "You'd...you'd be alright with it if I...if I kept going...? With... this...?"

They held up the underwear for you to see.

There was a little dot of their pre-cum on the white satin, and just seeing it made your insides clench tightly and your legs begin to tremble

"I'd be honoured," You said, your smile widening slightly as you hesitantly sat on the end of your bed, putting plenty of distance between the two of you. “I-If you could…show me, maybe?”

Lawrence's eyes widened even more and they swallowed tightly, their prominent Adam’s apple bobbing in their delicate throat.

To your delight, though, they nodded.

"Okay...yeah...okay," They murmured with another nod. “If you’re sure…”

Slowly, they brought the pair of panties to their face, their eyes shutting as they inhaled deeply, taking in your scent (taking in your scent, oh my god!), as their other hand sank back around their cock and started up another consistent rhythm of jerking.

You let out a pleased sigh, your eyes fixed on them completely as you keened forward on the bed, your own hand sinking between your thighs to give yourself something to press against, some kind of relief when there wasn’t anything else.

"What...are you doing here?" You asked quietly, not wanting to distract them.

They took a few more moments to answer, taking in a few more, deep inhales from your underwear as their fist tightened, slightly, squeezing around the flushed head of their cock.

When they spoke, their voice was soft, almost reverent.

"I...I wanted to see your place…” They murmured, sea-blue eyes on yours and warm, before they fluttered shut with pleasure. “I wanted to see what it was like...to live a life with you..."

"Oh." You whispered, your voice almost cracking. "That's...so interesting."

"You...you think so...?"

Lawrence's eyes opened back up, and they were looking straight at you, seemingly trying, intently, to observe you and understand what sort of creature they were dealing with here.

“Aren’t you scared?” They asked, their low voice soft and gentle (and so lovely), taking in another long inhale from the silk as their wrist started to move quicker. “Isn’t this…scary? Some random person breaking into your house and sniffing your panties? You should be…hah, you should be terrified…”

“I’m not scared at all,” You shook your head lightly, never taking your eyes from theirs (even if you wanted to stare at their cock, worship their cock, do anything they wanted to their cock). "I…I've...been watching you for months...seeing you here is…kind of a dream come true."

That got a reaction from Lawrence immediately.

"You've been watching me? For...months...?" They asked with a raised eyebrow and a slightly surprised expression, as if you had told them something completely mundane, as opposed to making them aware of a crime you had been actively committing up until an hour ago. “You can’t have seen anything that interesting…”

“That doesn’t matter,” You insisted, sitting forward and placing a hand on their knee (they flinched, but you didn’t take offence to it). “Anything you did was the most interesting thing in the world, Lawrence…I-I just wanted to see you.”

“See me?” They repeated, breathing out again. “See me…”

“Yes…” You nodded hesitantly.

“How sweet.”

The grip on their cock tightened even more (squeezing pearls of pre-cum from their red slit, staining their sweat pants), and they took in another long sniff of your underwear, (because you were the one doing all of this for them).

They held it for a few moments, before opening their mouth and sticking their tongue out, running it along the gusset of the panties.

"Fffhh..." Your legs trembled and you could feel your cunt throb even more under your jeans, your hold on their knee tightening a little more. "Oh...wow..."

A small, satisfied smile played at the edges of Lawrence's lips (pleased to be having this affect on you) as they dragged the wide flat of their tongue over the silk, moaning softly at the taste (whatever it was they could taste).

"I bet...I bet you taste better than you smell..." They murmured, breathing through their nose as they bunched the underwear against their mouth. “Mmfhh…”

"I can't believe this is happening," You murmured, unbuttoning your jeans and pulling them open before you had the chance to stop yourself, sliding your fingers underneath your own panties and feeling the copious amounts of wet heat underneath. "How is this really happening?”

“Hah,” They breathed out before giving you a smile.

Eerie, lifeless, the kind of thing you would see in a bad dream.

And so lovely.

“Do you really think you’re the only stalker here?”

#lawrence oleander #lawrence btd #lawrence x mc #lawrence x reader #kinktober 2024 #one of the faves #i like this one a lot

92 notes · View notes