star!

His hand is slung over some other girl's shoulder, but you don't pay any mind to that. He's wearing glasses that don't have any frames attached to them, imitating a nerd you assume. His white tank top is about to burst from his big muscles that glisten under the led lights.

You're drooling. Actually drooling. Your red cup catches it in time, mixing in with the jungle juice.

Pull yourself together, you thought. You'll never fit in if you're drooling in the middle of the living room.

The next hour you sit on one of the couches and stare at him. Admire him. His laugh sounds like heaven to your ears, he throws his head back dramatically, showing all 32 of his teeth, (you know it's 32 because you've counted them before), and you notice he's never alone. There's either a girl clinging onto his bicep, or one of his frat buddies slapping his back jokingly.

But you knew it was time to go when one of them yells, "IF YOU'RE NOT A BRO OR FUCKING A BRO, GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE."

You make it back safely, but you don't go to sleep before cheesing over the new picture you took of Satoru tonight.

~~~

The only reason you're comfortable enough to have a wall of Satoru is because your dorm has separate rooms, thankfully. Your roommate was very quiet and valued her privacy as much as you did, so she didn't bother coming in your room.

What you didn't expect this afternoon was banging on your room door. It sounded like a man, a voice you should've known better than anyone, but you've just woken up, so you sluggishly walk over to your door and open it.

"SHOKO—"

Oh fuck.

It's Satoru who was on the other side of the door. Why the fuck is he here. Wait, Shoko? Since when were they friends?

"U-uh wrong door." you nervously say, but he isn't looking at you, he's looking right past your shoulder. Looking right at your wall.

Where hundreds of pictures of him are hung.

Oh, God.

You slam the door in his face in embarrassment.

Oh no.

Oh no.

What the fuck is he doing here?

You jump onto your hard mattress and open your phone to see a text from your roommate, Shoko.

hey. my friend insists he visits me today, but I won't be there until later today. just wanted to let you know :)

Oh my God.

If only you checked your phone before opening the damn door.

Now he thinks you're a creep. I mean you are, but he isn't supposed to know that?!

oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no

~~~

Him seeing your wall woke something up within. You took every single picture down, leaving hundreds of tiny holes from the ticktacks you used.

You're a fucking creep.

The look on his face when he saw the wall will forever be engraved in your mind. He was so shocked, I mean who wouldn't be?

He looked so pretty though, as if he just woke up—STOPITSTOPIT

You forever ruined your chance of being with him. As if you ever had a fucking chance but now your chances were in the negatives.

Like seriously who does this—

knock knock knock

"Hey. It's Satoru, I hope I'm not intruding." he says gently.

...

...

...

...

"I just want to talk. That's the least you can do."

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you step towards the door.

The door creaks as you slowly open it.

He looks exactly the same as 9 hours ago, gorgeous as always.

"I'm sorry, okay? I took it down, it was weird and intrusive—"

"You took it down?"

"...yeah?"

"Can I come in?" he doesn't wait for an answer, he pushes past you and looks at your wall that had a shrine of him.

You follow him, leaving the door open because he should be leaving soon.

He sends a look past his shoulder.

"Shut the door." He commands. His voice is low and rough, making you shiver.

He jumps up onto your bed and gets comfortable with his legs spread wide open. He pats the space in front of him, telling you to sit.

You can't believe you're so close to him. He smells so good, a little smokey with a hint of mint, and he's so big compared to your twin bed. You're used to him being at least 20 feet away but now you're so close you can smell the slight floral scent of his shampoo.

"Why'd you take it down?" He asks; breaking the silence.

"It was weird—"

"To whom?" he tilts his head, purposefully staring you down so he can watch you squirm.

"I liked it." he continues.

...

"What?" Your eyes grow into a size that's comparable to the moon. Are you hearing him correctly?

Did he just say he liked it?

...

"What?"

"I'm into it. Kinda sad you took it down." he pouts.

"I-Is this a joke?"

"Nah. Put it back up for me, yeah?"

Without a word, you get up to your closet to take the bucket of pictures out. Your legs feel like Jello, and the box suddenly feels 50lbs heavier.

He's watching you intensely, not blinking.

You're back on the bed and you're about to stick a picture back on the wall when Satoru lifts you up into his lap. Your back is pressed against his chest, and your ass is right on top of his clothed cock.

"What are you doing?" you yelp.

"Don't mind me. Get started."

You manage to get one picture up, but the second one is much harder to put up when one of Satoru's large hands move under your shirt and grope.

"Keep going." He murmurs against the nape of your neck while his hand has a smug grip on your tit. He strategically blows air onto your neck when you get close to putting another picture up.

"When was this one taken?" Your nipple is put between his pointer finger and thumb, pinching it softly. You completely forget his question under his touch, but he bites your neck sternly.

"Hm? Think I asked you something, pervert."

Him calling you a pervert shouldn't have made you wetter, but it does.

"A-aah—uhm, right b-before finals week..."

~~~

30 minutes pass and you're completely naked while he's fully clothed. You're dripping all over your clean sheets and his fingers are drenched with you.

He hasn't let you come yet.

You've put almost half of the pictures up when you should've been done a while ago, but his touch is so addicting you get lost.

His two fingers are deep inside your pussy, but he doesn't move, he just stuffs you full. You try to move but he slaps your tit so hard it turns red, surely leaving bruises as he goes.

He can't hide how hard he is though. His cock is begging to be let out of his sweatpants but not yet, he wants to punish you first before he can have his fun.

When he first saw your wall, he was creeped the fuck out. But when he sat at home and thought about it, he loved it. He loved it when a girl was dedicated. And this? This was dedication.

He was amazed with how many pictures you had of him, how has he never noticed a freak taking pictures of him?

"Keep going. I'll let you come, jus' got to finish up." He softly encourages, only because he wants to fuck you so, so bad.

The right side of your neck is completely red, covered in bite marks.

He's using your neck as a reminder that he has to wait too.

You shakily bring you hand up, putting the last picture up.

"Good girl."

He flips you over on your back as soon as you finish; keeping his promise. He quickly frees his cock from his sweats.

Oh, God, how is this happening right now?

"You don't need to be prepped, right? You can take me right now?" he eagerly says. He's grinding up and down between your folds, waiting so patiently for you to give him the green light.

"Nononono, I can take it, p-put it in—FUCK"

Tears immediately leave your eyes when you feel him stretch your insides, he's so big you see a bulge in your lower stomach.

"Look, look here. You can see me in here." He's smiling evilly at the sight, bringing his thumb to move your stomach against him. When he notices he's the only one looking, he grabs a fistful of your hair and forces you to look down.

"Do you not have fucking ears?" he pats your cheek with his other hand in warning.

"I-I'm sorry—"

"Shut up."

He starts pounding, his hips slap against your thighs and you take it, take it with a smile on your face because this is what you've wanted for years.

He lets your head go carelessly and brings both your legs together, squeezing tightly. Your feet settle on his chest and he kisses them passionately.

"Is this what you wanted, huh?" he mocks.

"Fuuuck—"

"Answer me, slut."

"Yesyesyes, I-I dreamt of you cumming i-inside me, making me yours."

Your mouth stays wide open with your eyebrows furrowed together.

Your eyes stay in the back of your head; you look like a disaster.

"I'm fucking you out of kindness, and now you want me to come inside you too? Greedy, greedy girl." he tuts.

"Please? I-I'll be good, I promise." You plead.

You'd sell your first-born child to feel his come drip out your cunt; just once.

He doesn't answer, he continues to drill into you, making sure your insides never forget. He's full on making out with your toes, lost in how warm and tight you feel.

You on the other hand has come countless times. But you want more.

You need more.

"Gonna fill you up, okay? Fill this tight pussy up, yeah?" He's rambling on and on about filling you up and while he talks away, it makes you wetter and wetter.

"Fuuck." he whines, finally coming inside of you, his hips twitch against your thighs.

You don't want to waste a drop, so you move your feet to his back, pulling him closer.

And then you're out. You fall asleep.

~~~

You wake up to the sound of birds chirping.

Your legs and neck are sore but the first thing you see are a bunch of new pictures of you and Satoru on your wall.

Satoru's dick with come dripping down his length.

You sleeping soundly with angry bite marks on your neck.

Satoru deep inside you with a prominent stomach bulge.

and many more.

The poor walgreens worker.

────────────────────────────────────────

A/N; LEGENDARY LOVERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRSSSSSS

Getting up early in the morning, opening up your little book shop that has a little cafe inside, and burying yourself in a new book every day. You have a handful of loyal customers, just the way you like it. It’s quiet. So quiet. Everything you wanted for the past 10 years of your life. 

The shop wasn’t far from your house at all; walking distance actually. Sometimes you would walk to work and feel the warm sun kiss your skin softly. That’s what you decided to do today. 

Today was no different than any other day at the store; you helped your customers find the book they’ve seen online, you gave your recommendations, and you sent them off with a, “have a nice day!”.

And before you knew it, it was time to head home.

Your boots clack against the pavement as you walk under the stars. It’s extremely peaceful. You hear an owl somewhere in the distance, your nose picks up the scent of pastries being made just down the street, and it’s cold, but your big coat keeps you warm against the fall breeze.

But in the corner of your eye, you see a car with tinted windows trailing you; right behind you. You quietly open up your purse and get a grip on the handgun you bought 3 years ago. 

A single girl in a busy city like this needs protection, you understand right?

It’s small but you know the damage is deadly, you knew that better than anyone. You pick up your feet, trying to make haste but that soon turns into a sprint when you hear a car door being opened.

“Hey. How’ve you been, dear?”

A voice stops you in your tracks, you know exactly who it is but why’s he here? You slowly turn around, your hand still gripping your gun; just in case.

“Mr. Gojo.” you say plainly. “What’re you doing here?”

He inches closer and closer.

“Can’t see how you’re doing?”

“Thought we agreed you would leave me alone?” 

“Really? Don’t remember that.” 

You look behind him to see there’s 3 men watching you closely, hands in their suits, probably clutching a gun like you are.

“I just wanted to see what you did with the money, you know, curiosity kills the car or something?” 

“The cat. Curiosity kills the cat. And I’ll have you know I’ve spent the money well, Mr. Gojo.”

“Oh? And what have you spent it on?” He asks, putting all his weight on his right leg.

He should become an actor with the way he’s acting dumb. He knows what you’ve done with the money. He knows what you’ve been doing ever since that day. 5 years ago.

“A business. I created a little shop not too far—”

“Can I see it?” he interrupts.

“Right now? It’s kinda late, don’t you think?” 

“It’s Sunday tomorrow, you don’t work on Sunday's." 

“Okay, just a quick tour— wait, how do you know that?”

“Just a guess, dear. Lead the way.”

“Stay.” You thought he was talking to you, but he’s looking directly at his guard dogs.

In the last five years, he hasn't changed much physically, but his voice has gotten much deeper. He’s dressed warmly in a long, black coat, a white button up tucked in some slacks, and shoes that blend in with the night. He looks good. More mature, is all you can think.

You walk side by side to your store in silence. You hum a song that goes along with the clacks of your shoes, while Gojo watches you. 

“What have you been up to, Mr. Gojo?”

“Satoru. And nothing much. Just been here and there.” he murmurs.

Spreading your purse wide open to find the keys, you’re in such a hurry, you forget to hide the weapon inside.

“You need a better one than that.” he says in disapproval.

“Huh?” you look up in confusion, “Oh. It’ll do its job if it ever comes to it. I hope the day never comes, though.” you laugh softly, but he doesn’t find it funny.

Tough crowd

click. The door opens and you push inside, leading Mr. Gojo in with you.

“So, this is it.” you clap your hands awkwardly.

“Do you read at all, Mr. Gojo?” you continue.

“Don’t have the time.” he’s browsing the books you’ve displayed on a table.

“Do you have a book you think I’d enjoy?” he continues. 

“Yes, actually—” you head to the back where your favorite book stays. “Here. My favorite book. Ever.”

“Project Hail Mary?” He reads the front cover.

“Yeah! I think it’s a really interesting book, if you don’t like it you can bring it right back to me.” you smile brightly.

“How much do I owe you?” 

“No need. You’re the reason I have this place anyway.”

He looks at you fully for the first time in years. You’ve changed. The irritable doctor is nowhere to be seen. He sees a woman who found her place in the world. Your eyebags are gone and you’ve gained a sparkle in your eyes that glimmer whenever you smile.

“Thank you. I’ll be going now, dear.” 

You say goodbye with a soft smile and go to bed with the same smile.

~~~

The bells you’ve attached to the front door chime loudly.

“Hi! Welcome in, I’ll be right with you—Mr. Gojo?” you look up from the blender that has a smoothie swirling around inside.

Wiping your hands on your apron, you quickly greet him with a wide smile, making him melt inside.

“How’d you like the book?”

“Interesting. I did enjoy it quite a bit. Do you have anything similar to this?” you should’ve known he liked it since he came empty handed.

Well, he actually didn’t even open it, let alone read the back, but you didn’t need to know that. 

He just wanted to see your pretty face again, is that so bad?

“Of course, let me grab it for you.”

While you’re gone, he takes a real good look inside. It’s warm and cozy. It smells like pumpkin, suiting the weather outside, there’s a couple students studying hard in the cafe area, and there’s paintings hung on the wall along with fairy lights.

“Here. It’s by Adrian Tchaikovsky, I think you’ll like it if you enjoyed Project Hail Mary.” 

He started showing up everyday, asking you for another book recommendation and you give him a book based on his reviews. He’s been visiting you everyday for the past 3 weeks, asking for a book he knows he wouldn’t touch. 

One thing leads to another and you’re back at his house to eat dinner; made by one of the best chefs in the world, he says.

“I wasn’t sure what you like, so I had a little bit of everything made.” He pulls out a chair that was tucked beneath a dark-wood table, inviting you to sit. He wasn’t lying when he said he had a little bit of everything made; there were plates of food from every country, staring right back at you.

“Thank you, Satoru. Everything looks delicious.” He finally convinced you to call him by his first name.

This dinner was everything but awkward. He was surprisingly funny. He made you laugh every minute and made sure you tasted everything on the table. Instead of sitting across the table from you, he sat comfortably on the chair on your right. He even spoon fed you.

“Thank you for tonight, next dinner is on me.” He’s walking you to the front door, a little too close but you welcome it anyway.

You spin around, “You don’t have to walk me to my car—”

His lips are suddenly on yours.

He jolts away, “I-I’m sorry I don’t know what I was thinking—”

It’s your turn to kiss him. His tongue is in your mouth instantly, exploring it greedily. His hands are groping your ass as your hands tug on his hair. His moans taste so sweet, dancing around your mouth. Your hands move quickly to his shirt, attempting to unbutton it but he stops you.

“Not here, dear.” 

He picks you up swiftly and carries you to his room. You’re sucking on his neck, ensuring he’d wake up with marks tomorrow, he groans in your ear, letting you know how sensitive he is for you. 

You’re thrown on the bed and you watch him strip. He’s incredibly fit. He has scars everywhere on his body, one of them you recognize; the stab wound. You lick your lips in desire, you can’t wait to feel him inside you—

knock knock knock

“Sir?”

“Busy.” he responds. He’s planting kisses between your breasts.

“I-I’m sorry to interrupt, but it’s your sister.”

His head crashes against your shoulder in frustration.

“Go. It seems important.” you whisper.

“I’m sorry, dear. I’ll be back.” 

The door shuts behind him and you giggle at the sound of Satoru yelling at his guard.

You weren’t going to sit there and wait there patiently, so you do the thing every girl does in their hookup’s room; snoop around.

There isn’t much, you only see stacks and stacks of paper, but you decide to dig through anyway.

...

...

...

What?

There’s a bunch of papers stapled to each other, every paper has a picture of you and your full name written on the top.

What?

Everything about you is on these papers. Where you were everyday, for the past 5 years. With time stamps. Each and every one of your friends have their own paper, containing a descriptive paragraph about who they are to you. 

What? Oh, God.

You feel nauseous. He’s been watching you for the last 5 years. 

He even has information about your family. Their exact address is written with candid pictures of them in clear detail. He even has information about your dog who passed away before you’d known him. 

You run out the door, shoes left in his room but the only thing on your mind was to get the fuck out of there. 

You couldn’t sleep that night.

Now that you know someone’s been watching you. They could be watching you right now.

For 5 years. 

Without your knowledge.

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