୨୧ ㅤִㅤׄ I've been stuck by glue, right onto you !.ᐟ ㅤׄㅤִ
ᥫ᭡ — 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : Neuvillette visits his partner’s childhood home in Bicol and falls in love and understands not just with the place, but with the roots and memories that shaped them. — (requested)
ᥫ᭡ — 𝐟𝐭. Neuvillette x reader (gender neutral)
ᥫ᭡ — 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 !? : fluff, provincial life/culture, established relationship, family interactions wouh i cringed anyways idk jm so tired
ᥫ᭡ — 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.2k (ithink idk)
The humid air wrapped around you both the second the plane doors opened. Neuvillette adjusted his cufflinks—those silver ones you gave him—and looked at you with that soft, attentive gaze. “The air feels heavier here,” he said quietly, almost tasting it. “Alive. Different from the city rain.”
You smiled, a little nervous. “Yeah, that’s Bicol for you. Ready for the van ride? It’s gonna be bumpy.”
“I am prepared,” he replied, taking your hand as you walked out. “Lead the way, my love.”
The van rattled along the roads, windows down. You pointed outside. “That’s Mayon Volcano over there. Perfect cone, right? Locals say it’s the most beautiful one.”
Neuvillette leaned closer to the window, violet eyes wide with quiet wonder. “It is striking. Like a sentinel watching over everything. Have you climbed it before?”
“Once, when I was younger. Super tiring but worth it. The view from up there… you feel small but connected, you know?” You squeezed his hand. “What do you think so far?”
He turned to you, thumb brushing your knuckles. “It is beautiful. Raw. I can already see why this place shaped you. Tell me more about your daily life here as a child.”
You laughed softly. “Waking up to roosters instead of alarms. Walking through mud when it rained too hard. Helping harvest kangkong from the garden. Nothing fancy.”
“I want to know all of it,” he murmured. “Every detail.”
When the van finally pulled up to your lola’s house, your family poured out like a happy wave. Your tito’s voice boomed first. “Oy! Welcome, welcome! This must be the famous Neuvillette we keep hearing about!”
Your lola shuffled forward, eyes sharp but warm. “Hay nako, he’s so tall and thin! Come inside, I cooked laing and Bicol Express. You eat, ha? No excuses.”
Neuvillette gave a small, respectful bow. “It is an honor to meet you all. Thank you for welcoming me into your home. The food smells wonderful already.”
Your cousin grinned, elbowing you. “Ate, he talks so nicely! Like from a K-drama. Where did you find him?”
“Behave,” you teased back, but your cheeks felt warm. “Neuvillette, this is my cousin. Don’t let her drag you into karaoke later.”
“I would not mind trying,” he said seriously, which made everyone laugh.
Inside the modest house, the fan hummed steadily. You led him to your old room, the narrow bed and shell collection on the shelf still exactly as you left them.
“This is where I used to sleep,” you said, suddenly shy. “Small, right? Not like our apartment.”
Neuvillette stood quietly, fingers gently touching the edge of your old wooden desk. “You lived here every day,” he said softly. “Waking to the sound of chickens and the smell of morning rice. It feels… intimate. Like seeing a hidden part of your heart.”
You leaned against the doorframe. “Power outages were normal. We’d sit outside and just talk for hours under the stars. I used to wish for city life, bigger opportunities. Then I left… and met you.”
He crossed the room and cupped your face. “And I am grateful every day that you did. But I am glad you brought me here. This place is part of you. I see the strength in these simple walls. The laughter that must have filled them.”
Your tita called from the kitchen. “Food’s ready! Neuvillette, come eat! Hope you can handle the spice!”
At the table, he took a careful bite of the Bicol Express. His eyes widened slightly. “This has quite the heat. Remarkable. The coconut milk balances it perfectly. Your cooking is excellent,” he told your lola sincerely.
Lola beamed. “Good! Eat more! You’re too skinny for such a tall man. In this house, no one leaves hungry.”
You chuckled. “See? She’s adopting you already. Careful or she’ll send you home with a baon of pinangat.”
“I would be honored,” Neuvillette replied with a small smile. “This tastes like care. Like home should.”
Later, as the sun dipped lower, you walked together down the path to the river. Fireflies began to flicker in the bushes. The ground was uneven, but he kept a steady grip on your hand.
“The river here is different,” he observed, crouching to touch the water. “Clear and lively. Our city river feels more… contained. This one flows freely.”
You sat beside him on a smooth rock. “Yeah. After school I’d come here sometimes to think. Or when things felt too heavy. What about you? Any rivers like this in your memories?”
He sat close, arm around your shoulders. “Not quite. But feeling this with you… it is new. Peaceful. Thank you for sharing your river with me. Does it ever flood badly during typhoons?”
“All the time,” you admitted. “We’d move furniture up and just wait it out. Stories and canned goods. Kinda scary but we managed.”
Neuvillette pulled you closer. “You faced that with quiet resilience. It explains so much about the person I love. The one who calms my storms without even trying.”
The night settled in with cicadas and distant dog barks. Mats were laid out in the main room for sleeping. Neuvillette lay beside you on the thin mattress, his arm secure around your waist.
“Comfortable enough?” you whispered.
“More than enough,” he answered, voice low against your ear. “Hearing your family breathe nearby, the wind through the trees… it feels real. In the city I am the Iudex. Here, I am simply the man who loves you. I prefer this greatly.”
You traced a strand of his blue hair. “Even with the small house and the chickens waking us up at dawn?”
“Especially then,” he said. “This life taught you warmth. Joy in small things. I see it every day when you smile at me across our apartment. I never want you to hide this part of yourself from me.”
The next couple of days passed in a blur of simple joys. At the black sand beach, your cousin challenged him. “Try the pili nuts! Fresh from the tree!”
Neuvillette chewed thoughtfully. “Nutty and rich. Quite pleasant. Like a finer almond with a tropical note.
You laughed. “Gosh, you sound like a food critic. But I’m glad you like it.”
On the last evening, as the van waited by the gate, Neuvillette paused and looked back at the little house with its garden and tin roof.
“We will return,” he said firmly, squeezing your hand. “Often. This place holds precious pieces of you. I want them to be part of us too.”
Your lola hugged him tight. “Take care of my apo, ha? And come back for the next fiesta. I’ll cook more for you.”
“I give you my word,” he promised. “Thank you for everything. The food, the stories, the welcome. It means more than I can express.”
In the van heading back, you rested your head on his shoulder. “So… provincial life wasn’t too much?”
He kissed your forehead. “It was perfect. Different from what I know, yes. But it showed me the roots that grew the person I fell in love with. The small house, the nature all around, the tight bonds—none of it diminishes you. It only adds to why I cherish you.”
You smiled, heart full. “I was worried you’d see it as too simple compared to your world.”
“Never,” he whispered. “Your world here is rich in ways mine lacked. Thank you for inviting me to your home.”
The city lights waited ahead, but a warm piece of Bicol now lived in both of you—steady like the river, bright like the fireflies, and deeply, quietly loved.
ᥫ᭡ — 𝐀/𝐍 : im soso tireddddd uggghhhhhhh i dont like this oneeugh but for my friend so yay manilaboi ata si neuvi i wrote thuslike a week ago HELP
˚ ִֶָ💗 — @tessoooq ֶָ֢ @graynee ֶָ֢ @itsadrianayourmom