This Is NOT Satovie - Blog Posts
⟶ let you break my heart again
cw:: i have never written angst like this before. gn!reader, reader is MEAN in this one, reader implied to be an english speaker, reader gets drunk? satoru + reader met at jujutsu high
Satoru Gojo is not a coffee drinker.
It’s bitter, it's either scalding hot or biting cold, and in your words, “it tastes like dirt.”
He remembers the way he laughed in agreement last year when you muttered that under your breath, consequence of sneaking a sip of Nanami’s coffee. He remembers looking at you, his cheeks flushed and his words all airy. And he can't scrub from his mind the way you didn't spare him a glance.
Satoru Gojo hates coffee. But after a long night of entertaining a drunken you, he needs something to propel him through the day. And cocaine is illegal.
His eyes follow you around the staff room. Rubbing your temples and groaning, snapping at anyone who dares to speak.
“Someone’s hungover,” he smirks.
“Shut up,” you hiss. “Your voice is so grating.”
He shuts up, and pretends you didn't say that. He shuts up and pretends you don't always say that. He shuts up and pretends he doesn't spend night after night picking you up from a bar, completely wasted, or dropping you off to a date, or picking you up from some fling’s apartment at 7am.
On days when the staff room is silent, he allows himself a fleeting moment to close his eyes and picture you. He dreams of the thirteen-year long softness with which he can't help but afford you, and he lets himself fantasise that once, just once, you'll turn around and return his lovesick smile.
But on days like this, he presses his lips together in a fine line and ignores the sympathetic glance Shoko spares him.
He wonders what it is about him that is so unappealing. Nursing a whiskey at some dive bar, he slurs out his troubles to a sympathetic barkeep.
“Girls like me. I get asked out all the time. But she doesn't want me, and I don’t know why!” He wants to scream, or cry, or laugh, but he's not sure which and he slumps over the bar and barely catches his glass before it goes tumbling over. “I don't want the other fish in the fucking sea. I want her. She’s the prettiest fish.”
No one comes to pick him up.
Some days you're sweet on him. You throw him a bone. You send him songs in English that he doesn't understand, but he listens to the melody and the gibberish lyrics and he finds pieces of you in the songs.
[satoru gojo]: good song
[satoru gojo]: i like your taste in music ;)
Read, 11:06PM.
On other days you pick him up as the unforgiving sun is setting. You drive, asking him about his day, letting him ramble about his students, or vent about the higher ups, or tell you about this super funny thing Nanami did as though you weren't there.
He turns his head away from you as he finishes speaking, and he's glad he wears a blindfold as it catches his tears.
He downs the rest of his coffee, shuffling over on the couch to give you room to sit next to him.
“Thanks for picking me up last night,” you mumble, picking at your nails. You refuse to make eye contact, which is just as well because he'd hate for you to see the wide-eyed stare he's subjecting you to.
“... No problem.”