Swoon June Event!

A writing prompt event based all around love and romance!

[swoon-june]

The prompt list is HERE! Two prompts for each day! You can use both or just one for each of the days.

Below are the alternate prompts, which can be used in place of any of the daily prompts:

Additional info, including a link to the Ao3 Collection and a text-based version of the prompt list, are below the read more. Happy writing!

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

As a reminder, the rules are posted here! They're also on the Ao3 Collection. Participants are free to cross-post with as many other events as they'd like; if it suits the prompt, you're good to go!

The event hashtag is:

#Swoon June 2026

Prompt List:

First love ♥ Love at first sight

Rainy Day ♥ Bath or shower

Traditions ♥ Nostalgia

Cooking together ♥ Picnic

Love Letters ♥ Soulmates

Beach Date ♥ Stargazing

Meet-Cute ♥ Meet-Ugly

Marriage ♥ Dancing

First Anniversary ♥ Pregnancy

Pets ♥ Car Trip

Denial ♥ Sickfic

Fairytale ♥ Flowers

Proposal ♥ Parents

Only One Bed ♥ Crush

Sharing Clothes ♥ Party

Box of Chocolates ♥ confessions

Lightning ♥ Caretaking

Sleeping ♥ Happily Ever After

Date Night ♥ Unneeded Jealousy

Heart ♥ Candy

Holding Hands ♥ Huddling For Warmth

Cheek Kiss ♥ Second Love

Sunshine ♥ Movies

PDA ♥ Cozy

Jewelry ♥ Friendship

Red ♥ Forehead Kiss

Breakfast In Bed ♥ Kiss On The Hand

First Kiss ♥ Swimming

Music ♥ Colors

Swoon ♥ Free Day

Alternate Prompts:

1. “No regrets.”

2. Growing Old Together

3. "It made me think of you"

4. Ice cream

5. Rarepair

6. Polyamory

7. Pink

8. Butterflies

[ghostofafruit]

Broom Closet Catch, written for @swoon-june Day 5: Soulmates

Fandom: Harry Potter - Marauders Era Ship: Narcissa Black/Sybill Trelawney Wordcount: 872

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Summary: Andromeda catches a couple in a broom closest on prefect patrols, said couple is her sister and another girl. And why are Narcissa's lips purple? Tags: Outsider POV, Relationship Reveal, Soulmates AU

Today's swoon june fic is here! The ship was picked from a wheel, and was one of over 170 ships. I really hope you like it @escapedangels, it's not quite what I'd originally hoped to create but hopefully there'll be more in the future

[softly-potter]

He’s My Dreamboat

Summary: You have a routine of writing Leon love letters.

Pairing: re2!Leon x gf!reader

WC/Tags: 1,616 / tooth rotting fluff, love letters, Leon being smitten

A/N: inspired by ‘he’s my dreamboat’ by Connie Francis, for day 5 of @swoon-june ‘love letters’

You chew at the knub of your pen, staring down at the blank piece of scrap paper in front of you. Leon is going to be up for work any second, the hands of the clock ticking closer and closer to 6:30am, his wake up time everyday. His lunch is packed, thermos filled and sitting on the counter beside the keys to his car. All that’s missing now is your love note.

Once a week, you write Leon love letters. You made it a routine after telling him you loved him for the first time, in the dark of your living room after a heated makeout session. You had told him you loved him, that you were in love with him and it scared you that you were only a little over a year into your relationship and you felt like this, but he had said it back quickly, had cupped your face and smiled so wide it looked like it had ached.

Afterward, when he went to answer the delivery at your front door, you had scribbled a little note, ily with a heart under it and had stuffed it in his jacket pocket. The next day he had called you, saying that finding the love letter had been the highlight of his morning.

That was nearly six months ago, and it was a routine you both loved.

You rarely kept it the same, leaving love letters in his cup holder or under his keys. Beside his tooth brush or tucked into his shoes. You liked to change it up, to keep the surprise going, and Leon loved every bit of it.

You also changed what you wrote. Sometimes they were silly, little doodles of hearts and clouds and flowers with fluffy words. Other times they were bone deep, your affection for him rooted in words you struggled to say aloud.

Now as you stare at the blank paper, your mind goes the same; blank. Nothing newly astounding had happened, nothing that needed extra tenderness, but you wanted to do this for him all the same.

You tap the pen against your lip, frowning at the paper. No grand moments to write about, no first kiss anniversary, no “I'm so proud of you” for passing a test or landing a new job. Just… him. Your Leon. The one who leaves his socks in weird places and hums off-key in the shower and always remembers your coffee order.

A small smile tugs at your mouth.

You grab another sheet, crinkled notebook paper, and start drawing: tiny stick figures holding hands under a lopsided sun with rays like fireworks. One has blonde hair, spiky, messy. The other wears glasses, round frames slightly askew. Above them: “Good morning my favorite cop. Thank you for coming home every night.”

Folding it, you press your lips to the paper and slip it inside his lunch box before standing to grab your own mug of coffee. You’re halfway through with it when Leon stumbles into the kitchen, his uniform crisp but his eyes bleary, a little sleep ridden.

“Well hello sleepy head,” you laugh, putting down your mug. “Sure you’re awake?”

Leon blinks at you like he’s seeing sunlight for the first time, hair sticking up in three different directions. He shuffles forward barefoot, uniform perfectly ironed but clearly slept on, his tie a little loose and one button undone.

“Mmm… morning,” he mumbles, voice thick with sleep. Without missing a beat, he leans down and kisses you right on the lips. A soft one, slow and sweet despite how half-asleep he looks. He pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, eyes slowly focusing now that coffee scent is hitting him full force.

“I’m awake,” he lies through a yawn before reaching past you to grab your mug, not his, and taking a long sip of your coffee like it belongs to him too, which you supposed it does. “I’m up.”

“Sure you are,” you giggle as you study him, and reach up to flatten his hair. “I made your lunch and coffee, it’s on the counter.”

That quiet little joy flashes across his face, the one that only shows when you do something small but so meaningful to him. He turns toward the counter, still cradling your coffee mug like a lifeline.

He sees the thermos first, steam faintly rising, and picks it up, twisting off the lid to sniff. Black coffee. Just how he likes it. No sugar. Then he spots his lunchbox, the bright blue one with dog bones printed on the sides, a gift from you after adopting Rover. His chest tightens just looking at it.

Setting both items down, Leon turns back to you. In two strides, arms are around your waist and pulling you into another kiss, this time deeper, as if every morning could start like this forever.

You hum against him, eyes fluttering shut faintly. He tastes like his tooth paste and your coffee and if his job wasn’t so important you’d ask him to stay.

“You’re going to be late.” You murmur, lips parting as you speak and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue along your bottom lip.

He does, a teasing brush of his tongue that sends warmth blooming down your neck. Leon’s never been in a hurry with you. Even when he should be rushing, like now, uniform half-tied and badge still hanging loose on its lanyard, he lingers.

But the clock ticks.

A distant part of him knows this: patrol shift starts at 7:30 sharp. Chief Daniels has already given him one warning about tardiness after last month’s rain delay, not that it was his fault.

Still, he nips gently at your lip before pulling back just enough to rest his nose against yours again, breathing you in like oxygen.

“I hate mornings,” he whispers hoarsely, and then steals one more kiss because screw punctuality for thirty seconds. “When I have to leave you.”

“But you come back.” You reply and grin, your hand cupping the back of his neck to play with the blonde hair there. “I have to get ready for work too.”

He steps away from your hold, grabbing his keys and coffee in one hand and his lunch box in the other. “See you tonight?”

You nod as you follow him to the front door, placing your hand on the knob. “Should be back by five.”

“I’ll see you at five then.” Leon’s grin is boyish as you open the door, holding it for him. He dips down, kissing you once and you inhale him, the pressure of his mouth on yours like clouds.

Leon steps out first, boots hitting the porch with a quiet thud. He turns back just once before heading to his squad car, a black-and-white RPD cruiser parked at the curb, and gives you that smile. That Leon smile: bright blue eyes crinkled at the corners, hair messy from your fingers.

He raises his coffee in a silent toast to you as he walks away.

You watch him go, the way he adjusts his vest strap while walking like it's second nature now after months on patrol duty; how carefully he places both items into their designated spots inside that pristine vehicle; even how neatly folded down those stupid little air fresheners hang from rearview mirrors, you teased him for putting one up.

When he reverses you give him a little wave and vaguely through the glass you can see him wave back. As you close the door, you realize you’re grinning, again. You always seem to be when it comes to him.

Rinsing out your coffee cup, you stare out the sink window, wondering when he’ll find the note, and wondering if it’ll make him smile. You smile to yourself at the thought.

-

Leon sips from the lip of his mug carefully as he turns into the station before throwing the car into park. Twisting his neck to stretch, he gets out, gathering his items before walking in. He’s greeted by his coworkers and he nods to them, his hair bouncing with the movement before he makes it to his locker. When he opens it, he takes in the picture of you and him on Fourth of July, a sparkler in your hand and a grin on your face. It’s infectious, the way you look when you’re happy.

He places his keys on the hook before opening his lunch box to survey the contents. A sandwich, probably ham, a yogurt and a bag of nuts, with a disposable spoon tucked in the corner.

There’s another item tucked into the side though, and he fingers the paper before pulling it out.

The note is slightly crumpled from being wedged beside the yogurt, but carefully folded, neat creases like you took time with it. Leon’s breath hitches just a little.

He recognizes your handwriting immediately: that loopy G in ‘Good morning,’ the heart-shaped dot over the i.

His fingers smooth out the paper as he unfolds it, and there they are, the stick figures under their wonky sun. He stares at them for a solid five seconds, lips parting into that soft expression you exude from him.

One of his fellow officers passes by and gives him a knowing look. “Love letter?”

Leon doesn’t even snap back or play it cool like usual, he just nods once, quietly proud about something so simple as his girlfriend loving him enough to draw silly hearts on paper every week.

He tucks it gently into his breast pocket, right over where his badge sits, and closes up his lunchbox with new energy, and a grin pulling at his mouth.

x

Divider @pixopix 

AO3 link

Leon K taglist: @yours-truly-andrea @causeofmykoophoria

Leon Kennedy ML

June of Doom/Swoon June ML

[levionlyyours]

Cassiopeia

☆ Day 6 of Swoon June | Stargazing | Event by @swoon-june

☆ Summary: Levi doesn’t ask what’s wrong. He just tells you to get your shoes and takes you somewhere quiet.

☆ Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Gender-Neutral Reader

☆ Genre/Tags: Modern AU, Established Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Stargazing, Fluff

☆ Word Count: 1.1k

☆ Check out the other days!

☆ AO3 Link

☆ a/n: thank you to my beta reader @slaytherinthoughts <3

[ I could not find the original artist. If anyone knows who the OC is, please tell me so I can credit them properly! ]

You don’t realize how quiet you’ve been all evening until Levi turns the volume down on the TV and looks at you from the other end of the couch with that same expression he weaponizes (yes, you’re using the word weaponize) that makes you feel like he can see straight through whatever you’re trying to hide. Then you realize that you’ve been staring at nothing for the past ten minutes, your phone forgotten in your hand, your thoughts heavy and impossible to explain even if he asked.

He watches you for another moment before he says, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you answer automatically, because it’s easier than explaining why you feel this way. Everything today felt slightly off. It just felt like an invisible weight pressing down on your back, a feeling you couldn’t shake off no matter how much you tried to ignore it.

He doesn’t believe you. You can tell by the way his eyes narrow slightly. “That’s not true,” he says.

You shrug a little, staring down at your hands. “I’m just tired.”

He studies you for a long moment. You wait for him to press further, to ask more questions. Instead he stands up, grabs his keys from the counter, and tosses your jacket at you.

“Shoes,” he says.

You blink. “What?”

“Put your shoes on. We’re going out.”

You frown, confused. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

You don’t bother arguing when he sounds so certain. A few minutes later, you’re in the passenger seat of his car, watching streetlights slide across the windshield in long golden streaks as he drives through mostly empty roads. The heater blows and soft music plays low. You look at him a few times while he’s driving, wondering where he’s taking you. You wonder why he didn’t just ask what was wrong again. But you realize he doesn't like to push you, even if it's to your benefit.

He drives for about twenty minutes before pulling into a small parking area near the lake’s ferry. The water is somewhere out in the darkness where you can hear it but not quite see it. He gets out of the car and you follow, the cold air immediately biting at your face. He gestures toward the back trail that disappears into the trees.

“Come on,” he says.

You walk beside him down the trail, both of you using your phone flashlights at first. The beams swing back and forth across the ground and trees, lighting up patches of gravel, roots and fallen leaves. The only sounds are your footsteps and the distant water.

After a few minutes, Levi turns his flashlight off. You look at him, your heart skipping a beat. “Why’d you turn it off?”

“Our eyes will adjust,” he says simply. “We don’t need it.”

You hesitate, then turn yours off too. After a moment, your eyes begin to adjust like he said. The trail slowly becomes visible in shades of silver and black under the moonlight. The trees are tall around you. Neither of you talks, and you realize your mind isn’t racing the way it was earlier. Your thoughts are quieter now, replaced by the sound of the gravel beneath your shoes and the presence of Levi walking beside you.

Then the trail gets darker, the trees thicker, and the path narrower. Then you think about how far away the parking lot probably is, how deathly quiet everything is, how the woods at night feel completely different than they do during the day.

You walk a little closer to him without really meaning to. A branch snaps somewhere in the distance and you immediately grab the sleeve of his jacket. He stops walking and looks at you.

“What?” he asks softly.

“I’m actually getting really scared, Levi,” you admit.

He nods once. “We can go back.”

Just like that. No teasing, no telling you you’re being dramatic, no trying to convince you to keep going. He just hooks his arm around you, turns you both around, and starts walking back the way you came. You don’t realize how relieved you are until you see the parking lot lights through the trees. Once you’re back in the car, he doesn’t start the engine right away. He just sits there for a moment, thinking. Then he starts the car and pulls out of the lot.

“Where are we going now?” you ask.

“Somewhere safer,” he says.

Ten minutes later he pulls into a small park. The sign reads CLOSED AFTER DUSK, and you point at it.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be here,” you say.

He glances at the sign, then back at the road ahead. “Then let’s not get caught.”

You laugh softly under your breath and follow him out of the car again, walking across the cold grass toward a large tree at the back of the park where the lights from the street don’t reach. The sky is wide and open above you, filled with more stars than you usually see. You sit down under the tree, pulling your phone out and opening the constellation app you sometimes use on clear nights like this one. You point your screen toward the sky and then up at the stars.

“That one’s Lynx,” you say, pointing. “And that’s Gemini. And there’s Cassiopeia.”

Levi leans back against the tree beside you, watching the sky. He occasionally glances at your phone when you show him another constellation, listening the way he always does when you talk about something you like.

After a while, you say, “I thought you were going to kill me on that trail.”

He turns his head toward you so fast you almost laugh. “Why would I kill you?”

“It was dark,” you say. “You took me into the woods. You turned off the flashlight. That’s how every murder story starts.”

He stares at you for a moment, completely baffled. Then he exhales through his nose. “I was trying to make you feel better.”

You look at him and you realize he probably planned this entire thing because you were sad and he didn’t know what to say, but he knew he needed to do something.

“You did,” you say, looking up at the sky, smiling slightly. “Make me feel better.”

You shift closer to him, the cold air finally getting to you. You lean into his side, wrapping your arms around him for warmth. He immediately pulls his jacket open a little more and wraps it around your shoulders, his arm settling around you without hesitation.

You sit there together under the tree, looking up at the stars. For the first time all day, you feel relaxed. Your thoughts don’t feel heavy anymore. You feel like you can breathe again. Whatever was bothering you in the first place is long forgotten.

After a long silence, he looks down at you slightly and asks quietly, “Better?”

You nod, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “Better.”

MASTERLIST ♡ JOIN THE TAGLIST ♡ AO3 ♡ WATTPAD ♡ KO-FI

tags: @saccharinefool @bunbun6casp @levkuna @strangeeaglepost @how-interesting-wow @d1leviglazer @y44washere4somereason @ddilfs4life @slaytherinthoughts @levishart @gloomyveil @levislolita @nerdskillz @elegantmakercoffee @miaszt @astersfantasies @daisyy-lev @naxymoon @bxcketbarnes

divider by: strangergraphics

[swoon-june]

Day 6: Beach Date ♥ Stargazing

[jenjentheboscostick]

@swoon-june @lovemebingo2026

Alex and Henry must spend the summer apart, and dive into hand-written love letters when time zones make it hard to talk much.

Ao3

***

It’s not often these days that Alex and Henry spend too much time apart, but Henry had long ago agreed to Princely duties over the summer and Alex hadn’t anticipated his summer associates’ position would take him to California rather than New York, so even if Henry could talk his way out of his duties, they still wouldn’t be together.

Instead, they use calls and texts to communicate, but even with Henry’s inability to sleep, and Alex’s tendencies for an early rise, California is eight hours behind England, and timing their discussions has become quite difficult. 

Thus, they’ve agreed to hand-written letters. 

Love letters as Bea keeps teasing him. 

Those letters, of course, are being bound in a journal.  Neither of them trusts that their letter won’t somehow fall into the wrong hands or be read for the sake of security.  Since they have had enough of their privacy being invaded, they needed an alternative.  This seems like the best option.

Plus, it allows him to pretty the journal up a bit and tease Alex via text about how much he’s going to love it. 

***

Alex loves that even though he and Henry can’t see much of each other this summer and are the furthest apart they’ve been in over a year, that they still manage to feel connected.  The journal letter idea brought a smile to his face.  While he greatly misses their emails, neither of them even suggested emails, again. 

He’s sure that they’ll never really look at emails the same way again.  Even with therapy, it’ll just… never be the same.

Still, as he decorates the edges around the letters on the journal, he smiles knowing that he may not be able to match Henry’s prose, but Henry will still enjoy these little insights into Alex’s thoughts of him. 

It’s going to be great.

***

Henry can barely contain his grin as he waits with a little sign with Alex’s name like some sort of chauffeur awaiting his charge. 

He knows that he’s gathered attention, but despite Shaan trying to talk him out of this, frankly, he doesn’t care.

He did not want to wait for Alex to arrive home on his own, it just feels far too long when it’s been long enough.

He spies Alex walking through pulling his suitcase behind him.  Cash walking a bit behind him – it was Cash that he’d spotted first, but he knows Alex can’t be far from him. 

Still, Alex looks as gorgeous as always.  His dark hair falling in slightly longer curls on his head, a brilliant smile on his face, his deep brown eyes showing delight and glee when he spots Henry and his little sign and hat.

He takes off running towards him, and Henry has to toss the sign away to catch Alex in a hug as he gets close enough, twirling him around to lessen the impact.  Alex’s lips are on his as soon as he puts him back on solid ground, his arms around Henry’s neck, pulling him close.  He tastes like coffee and cinnamon and Henry definitely can’t wait to continue this in private, but alas, he knows that they’re in public, so without Shaan’s little reminder cough, he knows that he can’t dive deeper into kissing Alex right now and breaks the kiss.

“I’ve missed the taste of tea,” Alex teases, the second the kiss breaks. 

“You could’ve had tea on your own,” Henry offers with a smile. 

“Nah, I’d rather get my taste of tea from your lips, baby,” Alex says, eyes glinting mischievously even as he turns to grab his bag and laces his hand with Henry’s knowing that they should probably head out for privacy. 

Henry hums.  “As I shall get my taste of coffee from your lips.”

They start walking towards the town car, happily together and so deeply in love that they could easily forget the rest of the world around them. 

And Henry wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

Alex is a bit impatient to get home. 

He half wants to completely ignore dinner and the journal that he worked so hard on to absolutely devour Henry and make up for lost time, but the other half of him can’t wait to read Henry’s love letters and see the look on his face as he reads Alex’s love letters.  Some of which were so sappy and romantic that he thought he was channeling Henry’s inner romantic. 

“Someone’s eager,” Henry whispers in his ear.  “Is it for my dick or my letters?”

“Both,” Alex admits, eyes trailing from Henry’s eyes down to his dick, which is half-hard in his pants.  “I want you so bad right now, but I also can’t wait to see your reaction to my letters, to read the love that I know you’ve poured into your letters.  I’ve tapped into your inner romantic for some of them and…”

Henry kisses him.  Lighter and sweeter than Alex had been expecting. 

“You know, there’s still at least ten minutes til we get home,” Henry offers. 

Alex glances around and notes the windows are tinted, the window from the back of the long town car to the driver (and Shaan and Cash) is closed for privacy.

Then, he looks back at Henry, eyes glinting like he’s up to something.  “Perhaps we can entertain ourselves,” Henry offers, hand sliding down Alex’s chest to where he’s hardened in his pants.

Alex swallows hard.  “If I ever say no to sex with you, you should rush me to the doctor.”

Henry grins, taking that as the yes it is and swings himself into Alex’s lap, straddling him and pinning him against the seats. 

His kisses are a little more passionate and heavier than at the airport.  Lips pressing against Alex’s in a familiar urgent way, his tongue in Alex’s mouth in seconds, his hands are playing at the buttons on Alex’s shirt and roaming over his bare chest. 

“Damn, baby,” Alex groans, trying to keep it quiet, but unable to stop the words leaving his mouth as Henry sucks on his neck and down his chest.  “Man on a mission, huh?”

Henry slides off his lap, swaying slightly as the car takes a turn, but focuses on getting Alex’s pants off.  “I’ve been thinking about your dick all summer, love.” 

He kisses Alex’s stomach before he rips down Alex’s pants and notes that he’s not wearing any underwear.  “Perhaps I’m not… the only … eager one here,” Henry pants, but before Alex can respond, he’s licked the underside of Alex’s hard dick, causing Alex to forget what he was going to say.

Henry isn’t playing around as he licks and sucks on Alex’s dick.  Alex can’t even process trying not to be loud with his moans that become less and less words and more jumbles as Henry does that thing with his tongue swirling his tip and flicking it against the slit.  His hands clench Henry’s hair as he tries to enjoy his efforts for a bit longer, but by the time they make another turn, getting closer and closer to their brownstone, Alex can’t hold on any longer.

He comes, hard, with a shout that doesn’t sound like any word that he even knows, down Henry’s throat. 

He’s panting hard as Henry swallows every last drop and looks up at him like he just won the world’s greatest cocksucker award (which he totally deserves), as Alex falls back into his seat, feeling like Jello.

He’s breathing heavy as Henry gets off his knees and back to his seat beside him, grinning proudly. 

“Damn, baby, I missed you, too,” he manages just as Cash knocks on the still closed window between the front seat and the back of the limo, and says, “Two-minute warning,” in a voice that tells Alex that he heard everything. 

Oops. 

Henry’s grinning at him as Alex quickly rushes to get dressed. 

“A nice welcome home present, don’t you think?” Henry questions, looking so damn happy that Alex couldn’t say anything other than, “Of course, baby.”

He gives him a sweet kiss as he rebuttons his shirt and says, “And don’t worry, I’ve missed your dick just as much,” as the limo pulls to a stop.

“Good.  Then, I can’t wait to get that talented mouth of yours on me the second we’re inside.  Sound good?”

“Absolutely,” Alex agrees, kissing him quickly.  “I can’t wait.”

“Good.”

***

Thoroughly satisfied for the second time since they got home, Henry grins as he hands Alex his journal of letters. 

“I don’t expect you to read them all at once,” he offers.  “I wrote one for every day we were apart, and as you know, I’ve dived quite a bit deeper with the freedom to know that no one else will ever see them, except for you.”

Alex smiles, softly at him.  “Me too.”  He hands him a binder filled to the brim with his own letters and lists about loving Henry.  “And I was thinking we could answer them.  Maybe make a journal together – two really.  One where we start with yours and my responses and one that starts with mine.  Might be easier to read that way.”

Henry smiles, filled with love for this man that loves these letters as much as he does.  He knows how much Henry loves having these things written down. 

“That sounds brilliant, love.”

“Then, that’s our plan, baby.”

“Good.”

[peakypixie]

traditions

✧ day 3 || prompt: traditions || @swoon-june 2026 ✧ pairing: olruggio x reader (gender-neutral) ✧ tags: fluff, domestic, established relationship, childhood friends, friends to lovers ✧ word count: 623 ✧ links: my swoon june 2026 masterlist || ao3

One of the small joys in your life—as a witch, that is—is making tea the outsider way. No fire spells, no vapor bubbles - just good, solid craftsmanship in the form of a kettle and a stovetop.

The kitchen was dim and quiet - only a few lanterns around the atelier remain lit at this time of evening, when most of the building's occupants have turned in. The kettle bubbles on the stovetop contentedly, and you hover unceremoniously in your nightrobe.

You look up, and Olruggio is leaning on the doorframe, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand.

"Finished everything for the night?" you call out fondly, turning your attention back to the now whistling kettle.

Olruggio grumbles, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "As finished as it's gonna get. One commission's done, another prototype started, but… I'll have to swing by Kalhn in the morning for some extra materials… and then I'll need to…"

He continues, his slippers shuffling across the stone floor as he saunters closer to you.

"… and then the client changed the specifications again, so now I need to recalculate the whole bloody thing."

A faint smile tickles your lips at Olruggio's complaining, something you had gotten very used to after his long hours in the workshop. With an exasperated sigh, Olruggio snuggles up behind you, his arms sliding around your sides and pulling you closer to him. He exhales deeply, billowing warmth against your neck as you giggle at the sensation.

"You smell nice," he muffles into your collar.

"I hear the scent of parchment and freshly baked bread is in right now," you smile, setting a second mug down on the counter.

This little kitchen rendezvous had become somewhat of a tradition between yourself and Olruggio. After Qifrey and the girls have retired for the evening, you usually find yourself wandering the atelier in pursuit of a warm beverage before bed. It's also around that time that Olruggio emerges from whatever corner of the atelier he's buried himself in. More often than not, your paths cross. At some point, it stopped being mere coincidence, and one mug of tea quietly became two.

You steadily pour the water from the kettle into the two mugs, taking extra care not to splash any on to yourself, nor the man draped around your waist.

A splash of milk later, and—after unraveling Olruggio from your robes—you carefully hand him his piping hot drink.

"Careful, it's hot," you caution, but Olruggio just smirks.

"You tell me that every time."

"Doesn't make it any less true," you retort with a huff, before offering him honey for his drink. He shakes his head and leans forward to whisper in your ear.

"I reckon you already made it sweet enough."

"Good grief, Olly."

You sigh dramatically with a tired smile, while Olruggio simply takes a smug sip of tea. You turn away to grab your cup of tea too - but really, it's to hide the way your cheeks are growing ever redder.

The two of you settle into a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional sip of tea and the distant patter of rain against the windows.

"Thanks for always waitin' up for me," Olruggio quietly pipes up over his cup, and you blink in surprise.

"…Of course," you tilt your head shyly, averting his gaze, before leaning forward and brushing a soft kiss on his stubbled cheek. "I look forward to our nightly tea and kisses."

Olruggio stutters a bashful laugh, and turns his head to capture your lips with his.

"C'mon," he mumbles against your mouth, his fingers searching for and intertwining with yours, "let's get to bed before you make me spill this tea everywhere."

[peakypixie]

rainy day & first love

✧ day 1 & 2 || prompt(s): first love & rainy day || @swoon-june 2026 ✧ pairing: olruggio x reader (gender-neutral) ✧ tags: fluff, domestic, established relationship, childhood friends, friends to lovers, first love ✧ word count: 398 ✧ links: my swoon june 2026 masterlist || ao3

"Well~ what about you, y/n? Who was your first love?"

Tetia sits across the dining table from you, her eyes glittering with curiosity, her chin resting cozily in her hands. The corner of your mouth twitches.

We really don't need to talk about that.

"Ah, you know… it was so long ago, I couldn't say, really."

Breakfast at Qifrey's atelier rarely went by without incident. Whether it's Coco causing a ruckus in the kitchen, Agott telling her off for the aforementioned ruckus, or Richeh further provoking them with some cute crystalline spell, there was always some manner of wacky conversation occurring at the same time. Unfortunately for you, the topic this particular morning had somehow turned to discussing the adult witches' childhood crushes, and the girls weren't about to take no for an answer.

Rain patters on the windows, accentuating the silence that had followed your wishy-washy response. Tetia's eyes narrow in clear suspicion, and you quickly dart your eyes away from her.

How Qifrey and Olruggio escaped this round of questioning unscathed is beyond you.

The problem is not that you don't recall the answer.

The problem is that the answer is sitting across the room from you.

You steal a glance.

Olruggio looks exhausted.

His eyes have those telltale shadows under them, the ones that give away yet another night's sleep lost to work. You suppress a sigh. No amount of nagging him to get to bed will ever get through to that man.

As if he could sense your presence, Olruggio looks up from his tea. The corners of his lips tug upwards, his gaze knowing (and mocking), and you instinctively respond by pulling a silly face.

Right.

Your first love.

You'd spent so many years thinking of Olruggio as your best friend that it was always hard to pin down the moment you realized you were head over heels. It hadn't been clear to you as children or teens, but by the time you two had reunited at the atelier, your heart had quietly made up its mind.

Across the way, Olruggio's eyes, still locked on to you, soften. There's a small, familiar smile forming on his lips, although in true Olruggio fashion, he quickly brushes away his feelings with his sleeve, and returns to his tea with a flustered grumble.

Yes, your first love.

And perhaps all your loves after that, too.

[writerly-muses]

just like the good ol' days

written for @swoon-june 2026 // prompt: "nostalgia" (day 3)

the pitt. michael robinavitch/jack abbot. 700 words. rated t.

— — —

"Hey, you mind if I steal you away for a second opinion on something? Got a guy in South 20 that needs a little extra TLC."

"Sure thing,” Robby says, folding up his reading glasses and tucking them in the pocket of his scrubs. He places a chart onto the rack in front of the clerks, and as he rounds the hub, Jack falls into step beside him. "I've got a couple minutes anyway, while the portable X-ray's backed up. Who's in 20?"

"Oh, some poor guy in his early 50s, been complaining of loneliness, occasional heart palpitations, and, uh... a very insistent erection."

Robby shoots him an unamused look. "You need reinforcements for a priapism? Seriously?"

"It's a special case," Jack insists, pushing the door to the exam room open and ushering his husband inside. "You'll see."

Robby hums quietly, doubtful, but forces a neutral smile as he tugs the curtain back. "Hi there, I'm Dr. Michael Robinavitch, but you can—" He glances around the empty room, just as Jack shuts the door, turns the lights off, and closes the curtain behind them. Robby whips around. "Uh, I think you might've misplaced your patient."

"You sure about that? Because I swear there's someone in this room that matches the exact description I gave you,” Jack says, smiling sweetly, and it takes everything in him not to laugh at the look of dawning realization he receives in response, the endeared eye-roll. He closes the distance between them, wrapping his arms around the other's waist and pulling him in; Robby goes easily, just like he always does, tipping his head down, meeting his lips halfway, moaning softly into his mouth as Jack presses against him. "Not quite priapism, but, y'know — it is our duty as medical professionals to get ahead of a problem when we can, before it gets too serious."

"Jack," Robby murmurs, the name caught between a whine and a half-hearted protest. 

"C’mon, baby. We used to do this kind of thing all the time, back in residency. And this whole mess today—the system going down, the old-school paper charts, all this bullshit we're dealing with—it's bringing me back to the good ol' days." He peppers a few soft, open-mouthed kisses up Robby's jaw, nipping lightly at his ear as he pitches his voice a little lower to add, "Been thinking a lot about how you used to drag me into the stairwell, or one of the bathroom stalls, or that on-call room a couple floors up—”

"Okay, okay," Robby interjects, blush traveling from the apples of his cheeks to the neckline of his scrubs as he clearly fills in the blanks with his own memories. "Jesus, I can't believe you're still as much of a menace as you were back then."

"I can." Jack holds a hand up, flashing his ring. "It's what you love about me."

Robby doesn't argue with that, even if he does carefully extract himself from his husband's hold. His gaze flits to the window on the door, watching the staff gather around the hub, a chaotic flurry of clipboards and orders and results being passed around. By the time he glances back, Jack already knows he's won this one.

"Alright, but if we're doing this, it's not gonna be in here. Not enough privacy. How about you, uh— meet me in the supply closet in five?" Robby tells him, subtly trying to adjust himself in his Carhartts. "But I swear, if anyone finds us—"

Jack cuts him off with a laugh. "Relax, man. There’s no service, remember? We’re untraceable. They can’t call us, can’t text us…” 

"They can still come looking."

He shrugs. "Let 'em."

Robby shakes his head incredulously, but it doesn’t tamp down the fondness in his expression. He dips back into Jack's space for just a second, just long enough to give him one last kiss, sweet and steady, before he tears himself away, stepping towards the door. 

"Five minutes," Robby reminds him, throwing a soft, slightly eager smile over his shoulder as he slips out of the room, and for a moment, he looks about thirty years younger, like the dorky resident that Jack first fell in love with. The sight is enough to make his heart stutter in his chest. 

“Five minutes,” he repeats to himself. 

Jack counts it down, then follows after him.

[ghostofafruit]

Starry Picnic, written for @swoon-june Day 4: Picnic

Fandom: Doctor Who Ship: Sixteenth Doctor/Jack Harkness/Rose Tyler Wordcount: 1008

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Summary: Like after every regeneration Rose and Jack take the Doctor on a picnic Tags: Polyamory, Fluff, Picnic, Post Regeneration, Established Relationship

Another swoon june fic is here (just a tad late, even though it was ready to be posted last night)! The ship was picked from a wheel, and was one of over 170 ships

[levionlyyours]

Before I Ever Saw You

☆ Day 5 of Swoon June | Soulmate | Event by @swoon-june

☆ Summary: Your soulmate only speaks to you in your thoughts. When you meet, it only confirms what you already knew.

☆ Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Gender-Neutral Reader

☆ Genre/Tags: Canon Compliant, Soulmate AU, Civilian!Reader, Romance, Strangers to Lovers

☆ Word Count: 1.2k

☆ Check out the other days!

☆ AO3 Link

☆ a/n: thank you to my beta reader @slaytherinthoughts <3

[ Art by Claparo-Sans on DeviantArt ]

You first hear your soulmate’s voice in your head on an ordinary evening while you’re closing the curtains of your small home in Trost. The sky outside turns a soft orange and gold as the sun dips behind the rooftops. At first, you think the voice is your own thought echoing strangely back at you until it speaks again in a tone that is very clearly not yours.

You’re thinking too loud, the voice says.

You freeze. You look around your empty room.

Hello? you think cautiously, not entirely sure how this works even though everyone grows up hearing about it—about the voice that appears one day, about the person on the other end of your thoughts who belongs to you in a way no one else ever will.

There’s a pause. Then the voice answers.

So you can hear me.

You sit down slowly. I think so, you reply in your mind, heart beating a little faster now. What’s your name?

Another pause, shorter this time.

Levi.

You smile to yourself. Huh. Okay. I was hoping I wouldn’t get someone annoying. You sound sane.

Levi, miles away in the Survey Corps headquarters, blinks slowly at the wall in front of him.

You’re very confident for someone who just met their soulmate, he thinks.

I’m choosing optimism, you reply immediately. You should try it sometime.

Levi almost smiles.

.

After that, you talk every night.

It becomes routine faster than either of you expected, your thoughts finding each other easily at the end of long days as if your minds already know the path to one another. You tell him about Trost, about the markets and the crowds and the way the smell of fresh bread carries down the street in the mornings, and he tells you very little about where he is but enough that you begin to understand. He’s a soldier in the Survey Corps. It’s dangerous. You know that. Everyone knows that. You realize this slowly over several conversations, the pieces fitting together in your mind until one night he says quietly:

I might not answer for a few days.

Your stomach tightens. Why?

There’s a long silence before he answers. Expedition.

You sit on the edge of your bed, staring at the floor.

Be careful, you think.

Levi is sitting in the barracks sharpening his blades when he hears that, and something in him shifts in a way he doesn’t entirely understand yet. I always am, he replies.

.

During the expedition, when the sky is too open and the Titans are too close and the air smells like blood and fear, Levi finds himself thinking of you without meaning to.

You would hate this, he thinks once while riding through the trees.

I already do, you reply instantly, somewhere safe inside the walls. 

Levi exhales quietly through his nose because somehow, even from this distance, hearing your voice makes the world feel steadier. He talks to you in his head when he’s stressed. When he’s tired. When he can’t sleep. And he’d never admit it, but also when he’s lonely.

You feel his emotions sometimes—bursts of adrenaline, exhaustion so heavy it feels like sinking into deep water, loneliness he never talks about out loud—and you begin to understand that Levi, wherever he is and whatever rank he holds, carries the weight of too many people on his shoulders.

You become his quiet place. The voice he listens for when everything else is too loud.

.

You ask to meet him many times. 

You come through Trost sometimes, right? you ask one night while lying on your back staring at the ceiling.

Sometimes.

Then we should meet.

There’s a long pause.

I don’t have time for personal affairs, Levi replies.

You frown slightly. I’m not an affair. I’m literally your soulmate.

Levi rubs his temple slowly in the dark. I’m busy.

You sigh dramatically in your thoughts. You’re avoiding me.

I’m not.

You are.

Levi doesn’t respond to that.

But the truth is he is avoiding it, because meeting you would make this real in a way that scares him more than Titans ever have. Because right now you’re a voice and a presence and a comfort that fits neatly into the spaces of his life without disrupting anything, and he’s not sure if he deserves more than that.

Still, the conversations continue. Weeks pass. Months.

You know his favorite tea, his least favorite people, how he hates messiness and worships cleanliness, how he prefers quiet over crowds. He knows how you organize recipes and ingredients in your mind when you cook, how you talk too fast when you’re excited, how you always think out loud when you’re trying to solve a problem.

You know everything about each other except what the other looks like.

.

One afternoon, while you’re walking through the markets, you suddenly hear his voice again.

Are you in Trost today?

You blink in surprise. Yes. Why?

Levi doesn’t respond for a good thirty seconds. It’s long enough that you stop walking. Then he says, I have a day off. Meet me near the market fountain.

Your heart immediately starts racing. Are you serious?

Yes.

You grin.

Okay. I’ll be there in five minutes.

.

You recognize him immediately.

You don’t know his face, but the moment your eyes land on him, standing near the fountain with his hands in his pockets and his expression calm and slightly impatient, it feels like you're coming home.

It’s you, you think.

He looks directly at you.

Yes.

You walk closer. He’s much shorter than you expected, but he’s solid, sharp-eyed, and dressed in the uniform of the Survey Corps. And very attractive. The thought slips into your mind before you can stop it.

Oh. He’s hot.

Levi’s eyebrows lift slightly. You’re not subtle.

You freeze. Your face immediately heats. “You heard that,” you say out loud.

“I hear everything you think,” Levi replies calmly.

You groan. “This is going to be a problem.” Levi almost smiles.

You spend the day together in Trost, walking through the market, talking both out loud and in your thoughts. The conversation flows easily like it always has, except now you can see how his eyes soften slightly when you laugh and he can see the way you look at him when you think he isn’t paying attention.

He’s quieter in person than he is in your head. You smile more than expected. You sit together near the wall for a while, watching people pass by, comfortable in the silence.

I’m glad you came, you think.

Levi looks at you.

Me too.

At the end of the day, he walks you back toward your street. Neither of you really wants to say goodbye, but neither of you knows what comes next either.

You stop walking. “So,” you say quietly.

Levi nods once. “So.”

Neither of you talks for a moment. Then, before you can stop yourself, you lean in and plant a kiss on his cheek. You don’t even take the time to wait to see his reaction—you turn and start running away. He watches you go until you disappear around the corner, one hand rising to touch his cheek.

Levi smiles.

.

That night, when you’re lying in bed, you wait. You’ve made a habit of it now—you know you need to stop. A few minutes later, his voice appears in your mind again. 

You still awake?

I was waiting for you, you reply.

There’s a long silence. Then Levi thinks something very quietly, so quietly it almost feels like he didn’t mean for you to hear it.

I think… I like you.

You turn over and press your face into your pillow, unable to hold back your smile.

Yeah, you think back softly. Me too.

MASTERLIST ♡ JOIN THE TAGLIST ♡ AO3 ♡ WATTPAD ♡ KO-FI

tags: @saccharinefool @bunbun6casp @levkuna @strangeeaglepost @how-interesting-wow @d1leviglazer @y44washere4somereason @ddilfs4life @slaytherinthoughts @levishart @gloomyveil @levislolita @nerdskillz @elegantmakercoffee @miaszt @astersfantasies @daisyy-lev @naxymoon @bxcketbarnes

divider by: sweetmelodygraphics

[swoon-june]

Day 5: Love Letters ♥ Soulmates

[sweetestlittledarling]

For Prompts #4- Mango (for Juicy June over @thepromptfoundry) and Cooking Together (for Swoon June over @swoon-june)

Fun Fact: Mangos in many cultures represent prosperity, love, and fertility. They also can represent prosperity, and often the color can represent different things, especially when given as a gift.

Title: Guitar Lesson

Fandom: Date Everything

Rating: PG

Characters: Miranda Dulce Tostadora/Gilby (OC Homeowner

Summary: This is not what Gilby expected when Miranda suggested a guitar lesson

Word Count: 275

Note: Didn't have a lot of time to write but may continue this one day because damn...got some tajin on that mango today...

...

              “Are you sure about this?”

              “You said that you wanted to learn to play.”

              “Yeah, but this is your guitar and for some people their instrument can be their entire life!”

              “Shhh, I trust you mi amor! Now here, put your one hand here on the neck and the other here.”

              Gilby felt a rush of warmth all over as Miranda’s warm body pressed against their back. Even through the fantastic red shirt, Gilby could feel every inch of the beautiful musician and it was both wonderful and frightening at the same time. When Miranda had suggested the lesson Gilby had expected them to sit side by side…not for Gilby to be seated in Miranda’s lap. The musician’s arms snuck their way around Gilby’s body, encasing them as she helped to place their hands on the right strings. With the guitar in their lap and a beautiful woman on their back, Gilby was trapped.

              “And now you give it a gentle strum like this,” Miranda instructed, helping Gilby ease the pic over the strings. The sound that came out was a simple note, but it sent shivers through Gilby’s body sending sensations all over. Gods, is this what toast felt like? Gilby shivered again as Miranda’s warm breath tickled the side of their neck, lips coming ever so close to brush the delicate skin. Miranda chuckled breathlessly as she clearly knew what she was doing. “You are hot mi amor. I’d better be careful not to burn you up.”

              Gilby swallowed hard.

              If this is how all the ‘lessons’ were going to go Gilby was pretty sure they would never actually learn to play guitar.

[swoon-june]

By the way, if you want your work reblogged and I haven’t yet, feel free to message me! There’s a lot going on in my inbox right now and I unfortunately miss some. As a good rule of thumb, if you’re posting it on the prompt’s day (like for instance, posting your fic for day 4 on June 4th) it’s good to wait until the next day before messaging. But please do if you want to make sure it’s reblogged!

In a similar vein, if I reblog your work and you don’t want it here, message me and I’ll undo my reblog for you.

Thank you so much everyone! It means so much to me to see people creating based on my prompts. I appreciate everything! ❤️ Happy Pride and Happy Swoon June!

[jenjentheboscostick]

@swoon-june

Emma's got a first date with someone that surprised her and everyone else.

Ao3

***

Emma hasn’t thought much about dating since her arrival in Storybrooke (to be fair, there’s been a lot going on and she never really dated since Neal).  It just wasn’t her thing.  She didn’t really trust men all that much, and it was just easier for things to be one-night-stands.  That way, they couldn’t break her heart, and she couldn’t get attached. 

So, it’d been quite the surprise after Elsa’s aunt had taken back her curse on herself and ended the chaos with ice walls and magic that she didn’t quite understand, that she found herself interested in dating again… and it is someone rather unexpected.

To her, and everyone else, but she’s kind of excited about it.

“Are you sure these will keep well enough for us to get to the picnic spot?” Emma questions as she and David prepare a picnic for her date. 

“Yes, it will be just as good now as it will be when you get to the picnic spot,” David assures her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, quickly and squeezing.  “Are you nervous?”

“It’s just different,” Emma admits.  “It’s not really something I ever considered before, but something has felt right ever since that night I almost gave up my powers and it doesn’t hurt to give it a try, right?”

Before he can respond, Snow skips into the room, in a much better mood since she’s finally gotten a handle on the whole being Mayor thing since she’s gotten some help from the other Princesses that agreed to be kind of like a council of sorts to deal with Mayor things but the biggest thing is with Snowflake (Emma hasn’t quite admitted to Snow and David that she’s not all that comfortable with the name Neal) sleeping a bit more than usual and David taking on more of stay-at-home dad role since Emma is Sherriff, again.  He really only does Sherriff things when Emma’s otherwise engaged.

“Oh!” she claps, smiling brightly.  “I’m so excited that we can be here for one of your firsts.”

“I’ve gone on a date before,” Emma replies, trying not to laugh.

“Not with a woman, and a Queen, too,” Snow says, with a smile.

“Not that that matters,” David adds.  “After all, I was only masquerading as a prince.”

Emma laughs.  “You did inherit George’s kingdom, though.”

“I fought valiantly for it, there’s a difference.”

He’s teasing and joking, and Emma can see Snow shaking her head, smiling. 

“Either way, this is exciting,” Snow says, putting Snowflake down in the playpen. 

“Yeah, it is,” Emma offers. 

She is rather nervous, Elsa’s a queen, and she’s probably used to things in her world not Storybrooke.  It hasn’t been that long since she realized that she would have to stay in Storybrooke (although she’s perfectly happy as long as Anna is here) and now has to adjust to the differences that she’d been ignoring before. 

Emma and Snow had helped her and Anna find a place of their own (with Kristoff) and had been trying to help them adjust to things, but it was slow going.  Storybrooke is vastly different to their homeland.

“You’re going to be fine,” David assures her.  “She likes you not because you’re a princess –”

“I’m not a princess,” she interjects.

“Yes, you are,” David retorts, not skipping a beat.  She’s been doing that a lot as of late.  She doesn’t feel like a princess and even though there are still princesses in the world, she was never supposed to be one of them.  “Need I remind you that I wasn’t a prince, either?”

“You married a princess.”

“And you were born one, you just didn’t know it,” David replies as he begins to pack the picnic basket.  “The point is, Elsa likes you for you, and she asked you, not the other way around.  So, you don’t need to be nervous.”

Emma nods and smiles at him.  “Sure, I’ll try not to be.”

“Good and good luck,” he offers as he hands her the basket. 

He gives her a hug and kisses her cheek, before Snow hugs her, too.  “You’re going to do great, promise.”

“Thanks.”

***

Despite the assurances from her parents, Emma is still surprisingly nervous as she lays out the picnic blanket and their little picnic at the spot by the water that she had picked out for their date.  She never had any thought about eating on the ground, but would that be too much for Elsa? 

She can’t imagine that Elsa’s spent a lot of time eating on the ground as a Queen, but before she can consider moving the spot, Elsa appears looking much more dressed down than she’d been previously.  In fact, she’s wearing the kind of summery dress that she previously thought was just a corset when Emma had worn one for her previous first date with Hook that hadn’t gone anywhere. 

The connection with Elsa had just been too strong and ultimately, Emma’s trust issues with men just didn’t lead to a great relationship. 

“Wow, Emma, this is beautiful,” Elsa says, as she joins her at the blanket, smiling brightly, hair still her customary braid. 

“You look beautiful, too,” Emma offers, smiling at her and gesturing for her to sit. 

“Thank you,” Elsa says, smiling.  “It’s quite a bit different – the clothes here, but it’s good that this is – is okay.”

“It’s fantastic,” Emma admits.  The dress looks good on her, and as she sits leaning to one side with her legs tucked under her, she looks a lot less than a badass Queen and more like a young woman that hasn’t gone on many dates herself. 

“Anna helped me pick it out, I – uh, I haven’t gone on many dates and my clothing choices back home were all… very formal,” Elsa admits nervously.

Emma smiles.  “I’ll admit that I’ve been on many first dates – but never with a woman, so,” she picks up the glasses of wine that she’d poured as she waited for Elsa to arrive and offers one to her.  “Here’s to an awesome first date with an awesome woman.”

Elsa smiles, bright and eyes twinkling.  “Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

[msbirdiewrites]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov Characters: Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov Additional Tags: Post-Book 6: The Long Game (Game Changers), Mix of book canon and show canon, Reflection, Established Relationship, Established Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov Series: Part 1 of Birdie’s Swoon June (Pride Month) Fics Summary:

Years into their relationship, after the Fanmail incident, and moving to the Centaurs, after the wedding and winning several Stanley Cups together, Shane and Ilya try to determine once and for all the timeline of their relationship.

Inspired by @swoon-june Prompt Event Day 1: Love at First Sight

[roxan1930]

At The Hot Springs

Summary:

All Senku wanted was to take a bath at the nearby hot spring to relax and sooth a recent injury. He however did not expect to find a naked Kohaku there...

At The Hot Springs - roxan1930 - Dr. STONE (Anime & Manga) [Archive of Our Own]

Made for @swoon-june Prompt: Bath or Shower