#omg i am so excited i finally got to this ari š„¹ļæ½ļæ½ļæ½ and an x times kind of fic too oh my heart!!!!!!
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i maxxed the tags (what did i expect) but!!
what a soft piece ari š„ŗ thank you for sharing this hurt/comfort piece w us!! i think satoru will always be a figure of strengthābut i think itās in part because thatās how he brands himself to be around the people he cares about. heāll never truly share how he thinks and feels about things, will almost always downplay it really. but heās always worrying, always aware and cautious, overthinking š„ŗ and i felt that loads here!!
thereās a shipwreck stuck between your ribs ; satoru gojo
synopsis; three times satoru sees you cry, and the understanding you gain of each other from it.
word count; 4.6k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, the synopsis speaks for itself i think, copious amounts of hurt/comfort, i just think heād be so good at comforting u :ccc, also fluff!!, heās addicted to calling u ābaby,ā satoru gojo vs human emotion (he loses)
a/n; pls ignore the fact that 90% of my gojo fics are hurt/comfort ok we dont need to get into that <33 the writing in this one might be a lil rusty but im pretty fond of this gojo :ā3
dim lights, buttery popcorn, and boredom.
the senses invading his mind are mellow, coaxing, a little tedious. all he can see are the buzzing lights before him, all he can hear is the insistent chewing of the people around him, and all he can feel is just that:
boredom.
satoru stifles a yawn, resting his cheek on the heel of his palm. heās trying to pay attention ā really, he is. trying to pay attention to the movie he picked out himself, after thoughtful consideration, one heās been looking forward to watching with you all week. heās trying his best. but, gosh, itās just so boring.
or maybe he just doesnāt have it in him today ā with all these too-dim lights, too-loud popcorn-chewers, and the too-convoluted plot playing on the big screen in front of him. he has no idea whatās happening, anymore, what scene this is supposed to be. some sob-story? he clocked out a while ago.
so, with nothing better to do ā satoru decides to savour another view.
thatās how it always goes. no matter the movie, no matter the snacks, whether youāre watching at home on the couch or a nearby movie theatre ā eventually, when his eyelids begin to grow heavy, or when his attention span begins to falter, that blue-soaked gaze of his shifts. a moth to a flame, following his instincts. constantly looking over to see what kind of face you're making.Ā
after all, your reactions are far more entertaining than any movie could ever hope to be. little sighs of exasperation, jolts and shivers down your spine, or a laughter so bubbly he canāt resist leaning in for a kiss or ten ā he loves it. adores it. lives and dies by it.Ā
so satoru turns his head, and looks at you, knowing youāll save him from the boredom clutching at his subconscious.Ā
and something in his chest constricts.
at first, he doesnāt notice it. hungrily lapping over the expanse of your jaw, to your cheekbones, his gaze drinking in everything he can see. scanning your eyes for a hint of emotion; and he finds it. he finds it in something that glimmers in the dim lighting of the theatre, something that has his breath drawing back to the depths of his throat.
tears.
crystalline, dew-drawn, a fresh set of tears clinging to the edge of your lash line. theyāve yet to fall, but satoru sees them ā he sees them and he doesnāt know what to do.Ā
tears.Ā
tears?
youāre crying.
in the depths of your glassy eyes, he sees a fractured scene ā playing against the scope of your iris, as the movie reflects off your pupils. thereās a turmoil there, a sadness, one that has you covering your mouth with the front of your knuckle. and youāre crying.
satoru wants to tease you. he wants to lean over and purr against the shell of your ear, poke fun at you for being so emotional. such a little baby. what else is he supposed to do?
the tricky part is that he canāt. he canāt move, canāt shape his voice into a purr, canāt even speak. heās frozen in place like a bug trapped in amber, stuck to his seat, unable to do anything but blink at you in what he thinks might be bewilderment.
his breath hitches ā and thatās all.Ā
something about the sight of you makes him falter, makes him stop in his tracks. catches him off guard. he doesnāt know what to do, doesnāt recognize the feeling stirred deep within his chest, something discomforting and foreign. doesnāt understand why his heart feels so itchy, all of a sudden.
then your eyes meet.
and you blink. once, then twice. eyes just a little wide, an embarrassed kind of surprise. he thinks you must be flustered, and heās proven right when your gaze flees from his.
a mingle of words clog up at the base of his throat. say something, say something, say something. but he doesnāt know what.Ā
he wets his lips, preparing to part them, but before he can get the first syllable out you're leaning in. close. close enough that he feels your breath ghost against the shell of his ear, close enough that his heart starts skipping the way it always does when you press yourself against him like thatās where you belong.
a whisper. itās small, hushed, a little frail. but thereās something else, too, laced together with the vowels ā amusement.Ā
āyou didnāt tell me this was a sad movie.ā
a pout plays at your lips, as you murmur your grievances. but then thereās that amusement; itās there when you pull back, in the crinkle of your sparkling eyes, the curve of your smile.Ā
and satoruās shoulders relax. stiffened bones melting. he exhales a breath he had no idea he was holding, and his heart feels at ease. a grin finds itās way to his lips, wide, teasing, cheshire and sweet.Ā
he leans a little closer, bumping his head against yours. gently. āi think youāre just sensitive, baby.ā
his teasing is rewarded with a little huff, as your elbow meets his side. soft. everything you do is soft.Ā
āoh, shut up,ā you scoff. smiling. heās so relieved that youāre smiling.Ā
a moth to a flame, following his instincts, satoru brings you closer. an arm around your waist, pulling you into his orbit, until youāre practically sharing seats. searching for your hand ā and he finds it, intertwining his long fingers with yours, just to give it a little squeeze.
(for some reason, he feels more protective than usual.)
he feels your gaze. questioning, maybe. but you melt into him quickly, with your head slumped against his shoulder, and his heart settles back into a sleepy rhythm. just watching the movie pass you by.
the dim lighting of the theatre casts a hazy shadow over your face, a tender desaturation, and his eyes stay glued to it when you arenāt looking. the smell of popcorn hangs heavy in the air, salty and buttery, warm and sweet, and heās almost grateful to feel that familiar boredom tug at his veins.
anything is fine. anything is better than that discomfort, that irritating itch.Ā
satoru watches the movie flicker by, scene by scene, whispering commentary into your ear and stealing your popcorn with a satisfied hum. chuckling when you whisper-shout at him to cut it out!
he tries not to think of the glittering tears at your lash line, and almost succeeds.
rain clouds, cups of chamomile, and frustration.
it seeps out into the open air, engulfing your living room in a feverish haze. thick and suffocating; the scent of heavy rain, lukewarm tea, and that ugly, ugly feeling underneath his skin.
it pulses. it itches. and oh, how it aches.
satoru hates it. he hates feeling angry, feeling upset ā hates when either of those emotions are in connection to you. hates it, hates it, hates it more than anything.
he does everything he possibly can to avoid it; his eyes are keen, always have been, and he can see when that thin line he shouldnāt cross crawls a little too close for comfort. when the rubber band of your patience just snaps. he sees all your buttons, knows which ones not to push. he knows you.
and, more importantly, more than anything ā nothing you do could ever make him angry at you.Ā
(well, at least thatās what he thought.)Ā
satoruās anger is a fickle thing, controlled, kept under wraps. itās a slow process; it simmers, boils, a cup of chamomile brewed too long. and then it all but invades his senses. it never gets the best of him, never, but right now he can feel it ā little pinpricks against his skin, a frustration that stirs his guts and has his eyes going cold.
satoru towers over you, like this. full height on display. not slouching or draping himself over furniture, but standing tall, and proud, and menacing. he isnāt smiling, and thatās all you need to know that heās upset with you. his eyes are layered over with discontentment.Ā
a sigh spills from his lips, a little gruff, unmistakably annoyed. it slices the silence of the room in half, and a shiver travels down your spine. he doesnāt notice it. his voice has a rough edge to it, something firm. something that doesnāt sound like it could come out of his mouth at all.
ādonāt act like such a child.ā
a flinch. or maybe more like a jolt; this time, he notices, but itās too late. heās in too deep, boiled water licking at his ankles, pulling him down. frustration nips at his skin, and he canāt quite seem to push it away.
and youāre just so, so unaccustomed to it. unaccustomed to seeing him wear anything but a smile, unaccustomed to that cold gaze, usually nothing but warm and fond when it meets your own. this isnāt like him.
itās not like him at all.
swallowing thickly, you do your best to calm down. but before you can make any attempt to contain it, wetness begins to gather in the corners of your eyes. pooling, little droplets yearning to fall.
satoru notices them instantly. he sees that sad glimmer, framed by the murky darkness seeping in from beyond the curtains, accompanied by the symphony of pitter patter against the windowpane. tears, much like the rain beating down outside.
and his chest goes cold.
a tiny sniffle pushes past your lips, and the dam inside you begins to break ā tears tripping over your lash line, rolling down your cheeks. cascading across your pretty face. the air fills with a sense of dread, and both of you seem to be thinking the exact same thing.
(oh, fuck.)
satoru notices, belatedly, that his throat has gone dry. that his heart feels itchy, again. it itches and itches but he canāt do anything to soothe it, and your tears continue to fall.Ā
his heart begins to crack. right down the middle, like a gash in the reflection of a puddle, right across his chest. it hurts.
an inhale, then an exhale. youāre still trying to keep it all together, grasping for control over your emotions, but itās not going too well. the little breaths that escape your throat are shaky at best, hands trembling as you wipe the tears away with the front of your wrists. and your voice sounds a little like itās about to crumble away.Ā
āsorry,ā you squeak, taking a step back. thereās a silent panic in the gesture, one that makes satoru want to get down on his knees. āiāll just ā iāll leave āā
he wants to stop you. he needs to stop you. but he does nothing, nothing at all, even as you stumble out. leaving the haunting echo of tiny sniffles and tear-stained cheeks behind you.Ā
satoru just stands there. once again, the sight of your tears seems to render him completely helpless. useless.
and he's frustrated, honestly. frustrated by the argument, by your tears, by his own guilt. heās so frustrated he wants to claw his eyes out. he scratches at his forearm, but it does no good. all he can think of is your frightened little expression.
(he scared you.)
satoru slumps down on the couch, head in his hands, running rough fingers through his soft hair. itās unruly by the time heās done, and his bottom lip is bruised with teeth marks, and everything in the world feels so meaningless. so out of tune.
(he made you cry.)
a sigh. drawn out, tinged with exhaustion, bitter and battered like the swing of a baseball bat. he feels a little like he could throw up. itās foreign, this emotion, suffocating. how long has it been since he genuinely felt this kind of shame?
the crack in his heart grows deeper, while youāre gone. more severe. every moment you spend outside of his vision makes him falter more and more, makes his desperation grow. desperate to plead for your forgiveness, to convince you not to leave. to wipe the tears away from your cheeks, delicately, the way you deserve. but he can do nothing but sit there, useless, repeating the same old phrase inside his mind.
heāll make it up to you.
and when you finally come back, having calmed down a bit, he does just that. youāre embarrassed, he can tell, a little meek. it makes him feel that discomforting emotion, again, that ache. the crack that only ever seems to deepen.
but he covers it all up with a smile. a little sheepish, more than a little forced, but he hopes you understand. hopes you can see his remorse, see a man who loves you, because he does.Ā
so satoru takes you into his arms, softly, hands finding the small of your back. delicate, protective. a little whisper spilling from his lips.Ā
āām sorry, baby. i didnāt mean it.ā
and itās not enough. he knows it isnāt. but he does what he can ā even when it just ends up clumsy, teasing, bordering on something that most would interpret as insincere. all he can do is coddle you. shower you in hugs and kisses, gifts and praises. he hands it out like candy, eager hands finding yours, everything spilling out of his chest all at once.Ā
thereās a desperation to it that isnāt lost on you.
but it works. heāll make it up to you; he swears. and he dotes on you until youāre too embarrassed to be sad anymore, apologizes until his throat runs dry. until heās sure you believe him.Ā
he brews you another cup of chamomile, stirred to perfection, warm enough to make up for the shiver he sent down your spine. the rain beating down on your windows serves as a constant reminder of his failure, and satoru does his best to ignore it. swallowing whatās left of his frustration, focusing on you.
anything to see you smile again. anything to wash away the red tint to your eyes, the puffy skin beneath them. anything to hear you laugh, to get you to feel safe around him again.Ā
(anything to make him forget the sight of those tears rolling down your cheeks.)
panic, panic, panic.
itās all he can feel, all he can think, the only emotion his muddled mind can cling to. heās in pure, sincere, genuine panic, and you arenāt saying a thing. canāt bring yourself to.
arms wrapped around his waist, tightly, you hide away in the crook of his neck. clutching the fabric of his shirt, burrowing your face deeper into his warmth ā and youāre not just crying.
youāre downright sobbing.
satoru knew something was off the moment you fell into his embrace, suddenly, tackling him into a hug so desperate it left him reeling. a kind of desperation he isnāt used to, from you.
he knew something was wrong.Ā
he knew even before he heard it; your choking sobs, those shaky, heaving breaths. muffled into the cotton of his shirt, his uncertain arms around you.
they break his heart.
āhey, heyā¦ā thereās a soothing lilt to his voice, awfully delicate. sweet like molten honey, almost enough to hide the panic. āwhatās wrong?ā
satoru holds you to his chest, safe and secure, cradling you protectively. as if shielding you from the world ā from whatever or whoever got you like this. as if youād crumble into dust, otherwise.
he tries to calm down, but his mind is spinning like a broken clock, and your silence doesnāt help. youāre trying to respond; he knows you are, but you just canāt get the words out. any attempts only make you cry harder.
a shake of your head is all he gets ā and itās not much, but satoruās learned to make a lot out of a little.Ā
so he continues to hold you, hiding his worry, tucking his anxiety away somewhere you wonāt be able to see. he curses, inwardly, grasping blindly for conclusions ā for some divine guidance. how is he supposed to deal with this?
(how long has it been since he felt so very useless?)
gentle. thatās the approach he takes, finally, hiding his nervosity. he rocks you back and forth, just a little, like heās lulling you to sleep; his warm hands finding the small of your back, the back of your head. cradling you so close you hear his rapid heartbeat by your ear.
soothing whispers. murmured into your hair, so soft they seem to melt once they slip from his tongue, all honey and devotion. affection so palpable you taste it in the air, from the breaths he exhales.Ā
āitās fine. iām here, iām hereā¦ iāve got you.ā
he doesnāt know what heās doing, not really, but it seems to work. because you calm down, after a while, just sniffling into his neck and letting him soothe you. sobs and unstable heaves, turning into whimpers and shaky breaths. clinging to him all the while; so desperate for comfort, for him.
it makes him feel so, so desperate to protect you, to wash every single one of your worries away.
itās unbearable, this aching desire. like a great, insatiable, unnamed something deep within the caverns of his chest, clawing at his ribcage, snarling and hissing, itching to break out so it can open its maw and devour you both.
(itās ugly. itās grotesque. it wants to keep you safe so badly it might kill him for it.)
a coo. sad, dripping with care, a comforting tone that he hopes youāll find soothing. he smooths his palm down the back of your head, heavy, doting. it hurts so much to see you hurt.
āmy babyā¦.ā satoru exhales, a little shaky. but he smiles, and he hopes you can hear it, hopes itāll help mend the pain in your chest. āwhatās got you this upset, hm? you're worrying me, hereā¦ā
a broken sniffle. the guilt eats at you, gnaws at your bones, and all you can do is hide away in the crook of his neck. apologizing, your voice no more than a tremor of a breath.
āām sorryā¦ā
and satoru thinks his heart shatters. he can practically hear the crash, feel the broken, useless little pieces dig into his skin.
his arms travel down to your hips, steady, and he lifts you up. just for a second, just so he can plop down on the floor with you in tow ā keeping you snuggled into his neck. seated on his lap with your legs around his waist, like youāre his baby koala.
āshh, it's okay,ā he soothes, a grounding rumble of his chest right by your ear. heās got you enveloped, wrapped up in his buzzing warmth, and all you can feel is him. āyouāre okay. no matter what it is, i'll take care of it, alright? you can rely on me.ā
a moment passes.Ā
satoru clears his throat. nervous, suddenly. āyou know that, right?ā
all you can give him is a shaky nod, but itās enough. he sighs, in palpable relief, still rubbing circles into your back. āokay,ā he sneaks a hand underneath your shirt, tracing little shapes into your bare skin. āgood.ā
he isnāt sure how long you spend there, on the floor, entirely focused on comforting you. washing away all your sadness, with every gentle caress, every soothing murmur of there, thereā¦ every little stutter of his heartbeat next to yours.
and when youāve finally calmed down, melting under his touch and into his skin, arms going lax around his neck ā satoru takes a breath. collecting himself, so you donāt have to. acting like his heart isnāt still a mess of crushed glass.
āyou okay now?ā he coos, drawing absentminded hearts into the skin of your back. his voice is teasing, but warm, spilling from his tongue and into your ear. deep and smooth. āalmost gave me a heart attack, baby.ā
he feels the way your grip around him tightens, just a smidge, and he hears the weak little breath you draw in. your voice is still shaky, and it makes him want to rearrange the world, stitch those broken vowels back together.Ā
(he doesnāt like how irrational it is, this insatiable something. how it makes him want to bend the rules of the universe, just to see you smile. a dangerous temptation.)
āiām sorry,ā you croak, clinging to him like a shipwreck to a shore. āitās not ā not a big deal, ām justā¦āĀ
satoru pulls back. just a little bit, making sure your arms and legs stay in their rightful place, curled around his neck and waist. making sure the two of you stay connected.
then he pinches your cheek.
ādonāt apologize,ā he quips, a playful frown on his face. soft, a vague furrow of his brows. like heās scolding you.Ā
it makes you wince, your eyes downcast. you look so meek. a little like a kicked puppy, glassy eyes glancing up at him in search of comfort.
satoru clicks his tongue. āand donāt look at me like that, either.āĀ
he boops your nose, playful, doting, and you exhale weakly. itās small, more breath than a real laugh, but youāre almost smiling, and ā
itās a start. itās something.
satoru coos, voice dripping with warmth, sickeningly sweet. it seeps from his fingertips when he cradles your cheek in his palm, rubbing circles into the puffy skin beneath your eyes. thereās a mirth in his own, crinkled at the edges, tucked into that blue shade, something glazed over with pure adoration.
āthereās that smile.āĀ
he leans forward, closer, to press a kiss against the bridge of your nose, eyelashes fluttering. tickling your skin. you fall further into his embrace and he makes no move to resist, wouldnāt do it even if he physically could. even if he had the strength to let you go.
then he broaches the subject. hesitant. tactful, careful, delicate ā he tries to remember how it works. how to handle something fragile. he thinks of those boxes you carried last week, little porcelain cups. heavy in his arms. he thinks of the way you jab his side with your elbow; gentle, always gentle, even though thereās never any need.
he thinks of you, and it all comes easy. thatās how it always goes.
āwanna talk about it?ā he asks, softly. fingers treading through your hair, scratching softly at your scalp. it makes you melt, a little. clearing your throat.
āitās nothing, really,ā you mumble, tiny, seeking respite in the warmth that seeps from his body. speaking with a raspy voice, a hoarse throat, all tired out after crying. ānothing big, anywayā¦āĀ
a moment passes, before you continue. āi guess it's just been a rough week,ā you admit, a sigh slipping from your lips, tinged with pure exhaustion. ājust little things piling up. ām okay now.āĀ
a hum. satoru clears his throat.
āanything i can do?ā
(please let me help.)
but you only shake your head. āyouāve already done enough,ā you assure him, leaning into his touch. āthink i just needed to get it all out, yāknow?ā
a beat. an itch. satoru holds you tight, a little tighter than he should. gentle, he reminds himself. but he needs you close enough to feel the flutter of your heartbeat, close enough to delude himself that youāve merged together. closer isnāt close enough.
he gnaws at his bottom lip, teeth sinking into the flesh. pulling words out from the back of his throat, uncertain. āiām always here,ā he settles on. āif thereās anything you need, come straight to me. okay?ā
a frown plays at your lips. youāre silent, for a while, until he hears you mumble beneath your breath.
āi donāt want to bother you so much, thoughā¦ā
āā itās not a bother.ā
the words spill into the air, a little more firm than he meant to sound. but he means them.
āiām serious. if you ever need help, with anything, come find me. iām yours,ā satoru inhales, deep, his chest moving in tune with the breath. youāre carried along with it, as if being lulled to sleep, following the steady pattern of his lungs.Ā
then he exhales. in, and out, and with it comes a promise. āif anyone makes you cry, iāll get rid of them.ā
he says it casually, so casually that you assume itās a joke, a bout of breathless giggles pushing past your lips. the sound has his own curling up, and he doesnāt have the heart to correct you. has enough tact to know that this might not be the best moment to let you know that heās honestly a little terrified of how far heād be willing to go to keep you safe and happy.Ā
but youāre smiling, finally, laughing. and that matters more than anything. when he closes his eyes, he thinks he can even feel the telltale signs that his heart is picking itself back up, gluing jagged shards into a shape that resembles you.
"that's scary!ā you gasp, amusement bubbling up inside your throat. āyouād go to jail for me?ā
satoru huffs. ābold of you to assume iād get caught,ā he tuts, a smug smile on his face. it makes you giggle, again, and he feels like a god.
āokay, okay,āĀ you nose at his neck, breathing him in, strawberry lotion and laundry detergent filling your senses. āplease donāt kill anyone on my behalf, though.ā
āno promises.ā
āsatoruā¦ā
slowly, steadily, his heart begins to stitch itself together. it helps that youāre there, he thinks. helps that youāre pressed up against him, that youāre holding him, like heās the safest thing in the world. like you trust him.
(the word tastes like molten honey and luscious berries, sickly-sweet on his tongue. he gulps it down hungrily.)
itās healing. the weight of your arms around him, the breaths that brush against his neck. he holds you to keep you together, intact, to keep himself together. a shipwreck and a shore ā he just isnāt sure which one of you is which. but your jagged edges fit just right with his own.
āi donāt like seeing you cry.ā
you blink. gazing up at him, with a contemplative look in your eyes. it melts into something a little too close to guilt for his liking. shame.
āā but i still want you to let me see you like that.ā satoru smiles, with a tilt of his head. snowy tufts of hair falling across his face. āis that weird?ā
a moment passes. then you hum.
āno,ā you exhale, a little breathless. smiling, somewhat weak, but still enough to have his heart skipping a beat. āi love that about you, satoru.ā
āhuh?ā he gapes at you ā blinking dumbly. ālove what? that i want to see you sob into my chest?ā
āthat you try,ā you stifle a yawn, sleepily nuzzling into him, all tuckered out from crying. āeven when it makes you a little uncomfortable.ā
satoru stills.Ā
silence fills the space between you. thereās nothing more to say. his tongue isnāt really cooperating with him, anyhow ā all tied up. so he leaves a kiss on the top of your head, and doesnāt say a word about the tremor running through his chest.Ā
he hates seeing you cry. hates how powerless it makes him feel, how useless. hates the fact that he canāt always protect you from the world, from himself.
but you let him see you like that.
he thinks of your tears, crystalline and glassy, like translucent marbles on a summer shore ā and sees the trust instead of the sorrow. he thinks of your tearstained face, meek and feeble, and knows itāll always be enough to break his heart to pieces.Ā
he thinks of you, and tells himself that itās worth it; just as long as he gets to bring that pretty little smile back to life.Ā
#jjk#satoru#omg i am so excited i finally got to this ari š„¹š„¹ and an x times kind of fic too oh my heart!!!!!!#oh heās soooo into you š„ŗ how his gaze always gravitates towards you i am sOOO my heart is SOOO#ālives and die by itā PLSSS reading this is like reading it thru rose tinted glasses!!! his rose tinted glasses!! like a movie in a haze š„¹#your writing is always so incredibly descriptive ari and i love love love that because it paints the scene so so well!!#it describes his emotions so well too ā the part on him watching your tears is so pretty ācrystalline & dew-drawnā HOW PRETTY#the way the movie reflects on your irises ā i love that image so much!!!! its such a vivid picture#satoru not knowing what to do when youre near; his emotions going haywire UUUGH forever a fave concept#and WHEN HE SPEAKS WKNDJEJD I THINK URE JUST SENSITIVE BABY HELLLLLOOOOOSUSJDJISJSJS#āeverything you do is softā MY GOSH thatās SO CUTE#anything is better than that irritating itch :((((((( GAWSH i love him#i LOOOOOVE the little descriptors at the start and how they set the mood for the scene omg love love loce#comparing his anger to a cup of chamomile??? oh my god i LOVE that how it simmers and boils omfg ari ur mind#and an angry satoru? oh my god take me tf out LOL IDK iF I CAN TAKE THAT LMAO#slicing the silence in the room into half is an AMAZING description ari omfg#ādont act like such a childā MY jaw DROPPED oh my god ari if he ever said that to me id actually cry#that oh fuck is so so loud and i love love love how you described that scene ari omg its so vivid and i could feel his and the readers#emotions thru it !!! i wish i could copy paste it properly but im rdg from my phone rn so š„²#the idea that he hurts when you hurt is sooo oh my god im such a sucker for that and i think its so true!!#because as much as youre unaccustomed to him acting this way; heās just as unaccustomed to treating you like this too :((((#oh my god him biting his lips to death :(( everything is meaningless . out of tune :(#see a man who loves you because he does :((( WAAAAH ILL SAWB RN#:(((( it makes him want to rearrange the the world & stitch those broken vowels back together HOW PRETTY#the sheer panic he feels at you sobbing bc he just doesnt know what to do#oh god :(( he thinks of you when he wants to handle you gently :(( bc thats all u rlly are :(( gentle :((#and its insane omg how kinda crazed u can feel he is abt u too. how uve managed to write in the extent of what heād do just for y#i love the lil banter after š„ŗ how he tries to keep things lighthearted still bc thats him!! thats satoru!!!#that dialogue is so tender āi dont like seeing u cry but i still want you to let me see u like thatā UGH i love that#:((((( and its that act of. he doesnt like it but heāll brave it for u!! i love that line of him knowing that itll break his heart
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