summary: neuvillette thinks he isn’t deserving of your love.
content: cliche !!!, reader trapped in his house bc of rain, lil antsy but happy ending
wc: 800
a/n: mm hii!! first fic here! I hope you enjoy it I kind of wrote it in twenty minutes and I’m just publishing it without beta reading bc (we die like men) I’m just too in love with neuv and I want to share it with the world lolol
Neuvillette couldn’t bring himself to even think about making a move.
He kept many secrets, and every time he faced your bright smile he would remember it was not his place to disturb your peace. After all, how could a young woman like you endure the dangerous claws of a dragon?
You had stopped by his house to discuss the latest trial and his emotions got the best of him, causing a rain to start pouring.
A storm was approaching; lighting was seen through the window and low thunders could be heard. Neuvillette plagued himself under his breath, hoping there would be a day where he could better control his feelings.
“Here,” he said as he handed you the cup of tea. You watched the lighting curiously, “I do not think the storm will pass for a few hours. You should stay. For the night, I mean.”
You took the cup of tea and averted your eyes from the window to Neuvillette’s face. You studied him with caution, as if it was the first time you ever saw the man — even though you worked together for many months.
“Are you okay?” you asked, ignoring completely his offer.
The words got stuck in his throat and, for a few seconds, he really thought he wouldn’t answer. The man sipped on his tea, his mind racing while trying to figure out why you would ask that all of the sudden. “May I ask why are you asking me such a question?”
It was a small gesture, but he saw it all the same; the way you flexed your hand. There was something you wanted to grab?
Something you wanted to hold?
“They say… It rains when the Hydro Dragon weeps. Yeah, that's what they say,” you murmured and once again looked out the window. To the storm. “The Hydro Dragon. That would be you, right?”
Neuvillette almost choked on his tea, every part of his body malfunctioning and leaving him with only one thing for sure: in his entire existence, this was the first time he was left completely and utterly speechless.
Your warm and comforting eyes turned to him, and you grabbed his cup of tea to put it alongside yours on the coffee table. “Neuvillette,” you spoke his name as if it was a piece of poetry you were yet to learn — eager to do so, “Talk to me.”
And then— your hands, so small and fragile if compared to his, touched him. Your fingers traced his, and you embraced his hand between yours. He could feel the warmth of your skin contrasting against his cold one, pulling him closer, closer, closer.
“When did you figure it out?” was the first thing he said, scared it may be recent. If so, there still is time for you to run, for you to escape. To turn your back and never see him again. It’s probably the best for you, he knows, but this little selfish part in him can’t stand the thought of seeing you gone.
“A month ago or so, it doesn't matter,” you’re quick to cut the subject. “I didn't mention it because I knew you didn't want me to. I’m just worried, that's all.”
Worried.
She is worried.
The realization clicks in Neuvillette’s mind, for the first time in so long acknowledging that maybe, just maybe, he was too, deserving of someone’s concern and care.
“You are saying it does not matter,” he repeats as if to confirm what he just heard.
I pushed you because I cared about you. I pushed you because you made me feel good and comfortable. I pushed you because I thought my true self would frighten you.
Yet, you’re here. And you’re telling me it doesn’t matter.
“It doesn’t. Never did,” you frown. “I just wanna know, no— I need to know why it is raining, Neuvillette. Why would you weep? I’m here with you, talk to me.”
Without giving it a second thought, Neuvillette’s right hand finds your lower back and in a split second you're pressed against his chest, the tightest hug you have ever been given. He’s much taller than you, and you can feel perfectly as he inhales your scent and hugs you tightly.
“Neuv—”
“I thought I had to restrain myself from you. I thought I was no good,” he finally speaks his mind, distancing himself enough for you to see his face; the weeping Dragon. Oh, the melancholy in his eyes.
The eyes of someone who almost lost something precious.
“Neuvillette,” you whispered. “There’s nothing better for me than you.”
And it was true; so you pulled on his hair just enough to have him connecting your lips, a sigh of relief escaping him as if there was nothing in this world he had anticipated more.
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warnings: nsfw, dubcon, cockwarming, gojo is kinda obsessive/possessive. not beta’d.
needy best friend!satoru who can’t lose you like he lost suguru geto, so he forces himself so deep into your life it becomes suffocating.
needy best friend!satoru who’s always in your apartment, like it was his place to be. he’s there when you wake up and when you go to sleep, never respecting your personal space.
needy best friend!satoru who’s always trying to get your attention whenever you’re doing something that doesn’t involve him. he whines and plops himself on top of you every time you’re busy.
needy best friend!satoru who, after a long and tiring week, seeks comfort in your arms – the comfort only you can give him.
needy best friend!satoru who pleads, in a moment of weakness, for you not to leave him. ever. because you’re his everything and he would actually lose it without you.
needy best friend!satoru who can’t help but hold onto you like his life depends on it, his grip on your body tightening as his hands roam to places they’ve never been before.
needy best friend!satoru who has you cockdrunk hours later, making you promise you will stay with him forever as he pounds mercilessly into you.
“say it again,” he pleads, grabbing your face with his hand so you’d look at him. you fucked out face having an instant effect over his body, “f-fuck, you’re my everything. say you won’t leave. say– say you’re mine.”
his free hand is on your clit, teasing, about to get you to your fourth orgasm of the night. there’s already a cream at the base of his cock and the lewd noises are driving him crazy, but he needs you to understand.
you can’t go anywhere.
anywhere he can’t follow.
“‘toru… I won’t– won’t leave,” you promise, fighting to keep your eyes open. “‘m yours,” and his movements on your clit finally pick up, driving you to your climax.
“all mine,” he pants, feeling the way your warm walls contract around him. but he needs to make sure of it; he needs to make sure you won’t leave.
he delights himself on your high, prolonging it, “‘toru– wait! don’t cum inside!”, but it was too late. his movements falter and satoru moans loudly as he cums inside you, thrusting sloppily until you have milked him completely.
he kisses your shoulder, letting himself get comfortable on top of you, and doesn’t pull out. “sorry, I didn’t mean to cum inside. won’t happen again.”
but he wasn’t sorry at all.
and now that you said you were his, there was no coming back.
you’re drawn to the way his long fingers play with the bass strings. it always seemed that, to him, nothing else mattered in the world aside from the instrument he was playing.
you don’t even remember when it was that you stopped going to the concerts for the band and started going for him instead; just to look up at him on the stage, looking ethereal.
he stuck out from his bandmates in your eyes.
he always looked so calm and quiet. his gaze would never reach the crowd, too focused to pay any mind.
a few months down the road, he’d tell you about how learning bass gives you a whole new perspective of how music pulls together.
bassist!megumi would explain proudly everything you need to know about it. and there’s a distinct sparkle in his eyes when you praise him, amazed by his skills.
you learn that bassist!megumi was quiet only on stage and in front of others, because his actions spoke volumes when the both of you were together. he could become so loud.
he gets proud when you start to differentiate the bass in songs you like to listen to. he’s always happy to hear how you finally noticed how the bass in your favorite song sounds incredible.
and if you ask with a little pout, he will play said song for you.
summary — your long-lived boyfriend doesn’t see the big deal about snow.
word count — 465
content — sukuna’s down bad, fluff, you call sukuna ryo, he calls you “woman” once and “love”
notes — i swear i didn’t plan this to come out on gojo’s bday??? i swear im a satoru girlie! happy bday my love :( also i never thought id write a fluff sukuna fic. let alone a down bad sukuna one lol
Ryomen Sukuna usually wakes up before you do.
It is actually rare for him to sleep, since he doesn’t need to, but having you snuggled up against him all night makes him indulge in such trivial things.
When he wakes, he stays in bed.
He doesn’t know why, he just stays. His crimson eyes flickering from the ceiling to your face, wondering how he ended up being a hostage of such a foolish emotion; love.
He never thought he would care so much for another being, let alone a weak human.
Your eyes flutter open and he’s still shamelessly staring at you. By now, you’ve got used to waking up like this – wake being watched, analyzed.
“Morning,” he says calmly, even though he’s not.
It infuriates him how you make him feel, even though you’re already his. He wants to drown in you.
You’re about to answer when something else catches your attention; you quickly look at the window, excitement boiling in your stomach when you see snowflakes falling from the sky, “Oh, my God!”
Sukuna frowns.
He follows your gaze, but still doesn’t understand what is happening, “What?”
“Ryo!” you squeak, jumping from the bed, “It’s snowing!”
You’re out of the room before he can process what you were saying.
Sukuna takes a few seconds before going after you, grabbing one coat from the closet on his way to find you in the backyard, looking up with a dreamy smile on your face.
“What’s with you, woman?” he asks gruffly, putting the coat on your shoulders. “Don’t forget your body limitations, you can catch a cold. Die from it.”
You chuckle as he complains like an old man, treating you like a porcelain doll he is too scared of breaking.
He is.
But you…
“I just want to see the snow, Ryo. Feel it,” you close your eyes, feeling the snowflakes falling upon your face. Happiness fills you – it is like living a dream.
“What is so special about snow?” he sounds softer now. Seeing how peaceful you look, the lazy smile on your face. He wants it there forever, he wants to watch it forever.
You are so intriguing.
Everyday. More and more.
“It’s my first time seeing it, I always wanted to…”
He lifts an eyebrow, surprised with that information.
Snow, something so trivial like frozen water falling from the sky, was enough to put a smile on your face. It was something you dreamed of.
“I’m glad I’m seeing it for the first time with you, Ryo.”
Sukuna wraps his arms around you, his warmth engulfing and comforting you, and places a kiss on your exposed neck. He’s drowning, but he wants to dive deeper.
“This is nothing compared to everything I’ll show you as long as you live, my love.”
summary — you break up with your partner a few weeks prior christmas.
word count — 1.2k
content — hurt/comfort, gojo is emotionally constipated but he’s trying ok, lowercase intended
notes — today was supposed to be obito’s fic but i wrote this one first because im kinda… going thru the same thing lol. enjoy <3
everything feels out of place as you lay in bed trying to place together pieces of an unfinished puzzle.
two weeks have passed since the last time you and gojo spoke to each other. two weeks since you broke up with him, leaving a part of your heart behind.
you know you have to move on, but it’s hard when you have years of friendship and a one-year-long relationship weighing on your back. you look back to all the efforts you put into it and, foremost, you can’t completely let him go.
you always knew about gojo’s personality, in fact, you fell in love with it. but it became unsustainable when you were the one doing everything while he sat back and watched.
you used to say to him, “you are a good person. you are the best person I’ve fallen for, like a window of light in the dark.” and never once you regretted those words. you made sure to repeat them to him during the breakup.
you truly believe satoru’s a good person, and he never intended to hurt you. what defined the fate of your relationship was his inconstancy, his fear of emotions.
gojo could shower you with kisses and “i love you”s for days, but they were always half-hearted and, whenever the conversation between the two of you took a deeper turn, he would instantly shut down.
become cold, even.
he also didn’t care much about life in general, talking about several topics and simply forgetting to ask simple questions like “how was your day?”
you knew he cared, but it didn’t feel like he did.
it killed you every time he’d disappear for an entire day, especially on days you weren’t okay, not even bothering to reply to your texts, and then replying with a mere “i was busy” – you knew it already, but a text would be nice.
and to match his emotionless self, you were the embodiment of intensity.
you tried to crack up his shell, always paying attention to what he said and remembering it. you dove head first into every interest he had, and supported him in every choice he made.
you cared, you asked and, mostly, you talked.
multiple times, you tried to express how you felt, how you wish he could open up more and maybe just regard you a little more – a few texts not to worry you wouldn’t hurt. gojo said he was like that, but that he would try to be better.
what mined your relationship was that lie.
because he never even tried.
and after another month of dealing with all of that, with not feeling wanted enough, cared enough, you decided to end everything.
you can’t lie a little part of you hoped he would fight for you, ask for you to stay. but as you watched distress filling his eyes, all he could muster was, “i’m really sorry i couldn’t be better.”
and you lost everything you thought you had.
you blink away your tears, trying to escape from your painful thoughts, and get up from the bed – it’s past seven now and you need to start getting ready for a christmas party at one of your friends’ house.
you need to move on.
after taking a quick shower, you put on the red dress you’ve decided to wear – a dress that gojo bought for you months before – before starting to do your makeup.
this is when your doorbell rings.
you frown, “who is it?” you yell as you make your way toward the door, but there’s no time for an answer before you open it.
you almost close it again when you see your ex-boyfriend standing there, but you don’t. you know you need to be mature about this situation, even if seeing him makes all the walls you’ve been building crumble down.
it hurts.
“gojo.”
you don’t look him in the eye, focusing on his christmas sweater instead. funnily, the one you gave him a year ago.
“can i come in? it’s freezing outside.”
if you looked into his eyes, though, you would see the big blue bag under them. you would see how faded his blue irises are, and how fucking anxious satoru is.
you don’t ask further questions, letting him into the house he knows all too well before you close the door. he follows you like a lost puppy, and keeps standing when you sit on the couch.
“you look gorgeous,” he compliments meekly.
“thank you. what do you want?” it takes all of you to not start crying right then and there, but you know you have to be firm.
“i want you back.”
satoru doesn’t beat around the bush, and the silence that follows is so loud it can be heard. you feel your heart beating in an insane rhythm, and your head spins.
“gojo, you can’t–”
“you were right. you are right. about everything,” he interrupts you. “i was a boy, and for that i’m sorry. i acted like you had to keep up with my shit, like you would always be there, and i’m sorry for that too,” gojo speaks so fast you can barely keep up with him, like he’s going to die if he doesn’t say those words. “i thought i couldn’t change, i thought i didn’t have to. because it is easier to live the way i live, but… it is much harder to live without you.”
“gojo–”
again, he doesn’t let you speak, “don’t call me that. please, don’t call me that,” gojo drops on his knees in front of you and grabs your hand. “call me satoru, toru, baby, love for all i care. just not gojo. i’ve been miserable without you, i never thought a person could get so miserable,” his voice cracks, pulling your hand towards his face in a desperate attempt to be comforted. “i promise you i will do better, i will pay attention, text you all the time, tell you all about my past and what made me who i am, scream through my pain for what’s worth. just take me back, please.”
you are so deeply in shock that it takes you a while to register the tears falling down his face, his eyes closed as he expects the worst.
all it takes is for your thumb to caress his cheek softly, and satoru sobs. you grab his face with both of your hands, cleaning his teardrops as your own fall, and you gently kiss his forehead.
it kills you to see him like that, but at the same time it gives you a reason to live to know that he’s willing to try. for you.
you kiss his nose, his cheeks, and then his lips.
satoru whimpers, pulling you into an embrace so strong you’re afraid he’ll never let go.
“toru,” you say when you part your lips and bury your face in his neck, feeling his scent. “everything’s okay now. i’m here, i’ll take care of you.”
“missed you so much, i’m so sorry,” he whispers.
“i missed you, too,” you confess, finally looking into his eyes and frowning when you notice he hasn't slept. “what’s past is past, we’ll be okay. but i guess we should just sleep a bit, hm? it was one hell of a ride.”
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you know I love how yuuta has a fucking curse (THE queen of curses) protecting and loving him more than everything because it makes me THINK !!!!
yuuta WOULD absolutely let you consume him. if you’re insane if you’re obsessed if you want him all to yourself???? he doesn’t MIND. take him keep him love him
he’s the type to give give give everything you ask for and he won’t complain. never. he wants to make you happy and he’s happy because he knows you love him more than anything in the world and that’s enough??? to be loved like that???? so DEEPLY AND MADLY
can’t stop thinking about being jealous at a party and all pouty and sad and he’d be like no baby please i’m yours i’m all yours and he doesn’t even mind that you let the bathroom door half-open so the person you’re jealous of watch as he fucks you on the sink :(
hello there! heard you were looking for something to potentially write. perhaps sanji from one piece? anything you like, gotta love that pathetic little man. hope you're having a good day regardless!
omg yes YES i can write sanji !!! that’s my MAN (tysm for requesting and i hope you’re having a good day as well <3)
cw. hurt/comfort, pre-relationship, miscommunications, smoking, reader goes through a depression crisis, no beta
wc. 0,7k
Sanji’s words were always breathtaking.
His devoted, spoken love was something that you couldn’t quite grasp when you first met, wondering how he could treat you so well when you barely knew him.
Of course, everything that left the cook’s mouth lost its effects when you joined the crew and learned about his personality. Every honeyed word directed to you felt empty, and you understood that was just who Sanji was.
It was nothing special, after all. Just a silly guy who’d pour his heart and scream absurd promises if you looked pretty enough for him — trying to get in your pants, maybe?
His praises still sounded like poetry, though.
And the knowledge of his antics couldn’t stop you from glancing down, trying to distract yourself from the growing want for those words to mean something.
It was hopeless.
As soon as Nami or Robin entered the room, his attention would split. He’d confess and dance and cry, leaving you with nothing but annoyance. He was hopeless.
But you didn’t know.
You didn’t know how desperate Sanji was for love, how agonizingly he craved attention. You didn’t know he was willing to crawl to lengths if it meant he could be cared for, even for a moment, by anyone.
Anyone — until you came.
You never realized you were the one he cherished the most, going out of his way to spend even a second longer with you, to share his space and invade yours. He just couldn’t bring himself to say it; he knew he would never recover if you explicitly denied his love.
It was only natural for him to keep going as the perv cook, pretending his heart didn’t burn in his chest every time you scoffed at his words. Turning to Nami and Robin to act like nothing had ever changed.
Could he survive without your love?
But he didn’t know — he didn’t know his own actions pushed you away. He didn’t know how you used to put your chin on your hand as you watched him cook, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as thoughts crossed your mind. Thoughts you believed would never see the light of the day.
Sanji didn’t know he had you on the verge of falling for him several times, only to take a step back every time you felt like you would end up hurt.
The both of you were oblivious.
The kind of oblivion that blinds you for years.
That was, until that night.
The night you thought about how you wanted to disappear, sorrow and sadness filling your chest, the floor disappearing under your feet.
Sanji had nothing to do with that. It was just you dealing with your past and feelings, a moment of despair and depression. A moment every strawhat had to deal with at some point in their lives.
You sat on the deck alone, past midnight, crying your heart out for things you couldn’t even comprehend. You were just sad, overwhelmed by agony.
That night, Sanji couldn’t sleep.
He had noticed how off you were acting throughout the day.
So he found you, silently weeping.
That night, Sanji sat by your side without a word. He took a cigarette from his pocket and smoked it as he heard you cry. Your head fell to his shoulder, seeking comfort, and he put the cig between your lips.
He knew it was bad for you, but he also knew you needed it.
Your tears came to a stop, and you shared the cigarette with him as the silence persisted. You were glad, though, for having him by your side at that moment.
You were so fucking glad for Sanji.
“Tell me something good,” you broke the silence, voice hoarse, and a smile slowly grew on his lips.
“I believe I’ve told you already about the All Blue,” he answers. A tentative smile grows on your face as well, and you scoot closer to him.
“Didn’t tell me enough.”
As the night passed, Sanji’s voice was all you could hear. His excitement muffled all your painful thoughts, his genuine passion igniting the will to live in your heart.
