Do what you love and do it more often

A love fanfic of Wolf from the Bad Guys movie x Y/N good carnivore Jackal citizen. Fit Y/N Jackal after the The Bad Guys 2 movie timeframe; Wolf and Y/N getting married.

The city of Los Angeles, a vibrant mosaic of humanity and anthropomorphic animals, was a place of endless possibilities and a little bit of chaos. It was here that Wolf, the notorious leader of the Bad Guys, found himself navigating a new and unexpected life—one filled with the challenge of being good. The public had, for the most part, accepted the reformed criminals, but old habits die hard, and a certain wolf's charm and swagger were often mistaken for something more sinister.

This is where you, Y/N, a good-natured Jackal and a respected citizen, came into the picture. As a veterinarian, you had a reputation for your kindness and an uncanny ability to soothe even the most skittish of patients. Your clinic, nestled in a quiet, leafy suburb, was a safe haven for all creatures, big and small. You had met Wolf on a rather peculiar occasion: a nervous guinea pig, a former accomplice of the Bad Guys, had been brought in for a check-up. The sheer sincerity in Wolf's eyes as he fretted over the tiny creature had been a revelation.

Their relationship blossomed slowly, from chance meetings at the local coffee shop to long, late-night phone calls. You saw past the sharp teeth and the well-deserved reputation, and saw the real Wolf—the one who was fiercely loyal, surprisingly sentimental, and deeply committed to his friends. He, in turn, was captivated by your quiet strength and the way you could make him laugh. You were a carnivore, like him, but your goodness was a stark contrast to his past, and he found a sense of peace in your company that he'd never known before.

Wolf’s proposal was as unpredictable as he was. It happened at the city's annual charity gala, a formal affair where he was, for once, not a wanted guest. Under the sparkling chandeliers, he pulled you aside, his voice low and earnest. "Y/N," he began, fumbling with a small velvet box. "I've spent my life being bad. But with you, I feel… good. And I want to be good with you, forever." He opened the box to reveal a simple silver ring, a tiny wolf paw print etched into the band. You, a Jackal of good standing, and him, a reformed Wolf—the city gasped in collective surprise when you said yes.

Their wedding was a testament to their love and the changes they had embraced. The ceremony was a blend of old traditions and new beginnings, held in a sun-drenched garden with roses in full bloom. The Bad Guys, dressed in their finest, served as the wedding party, a sight that still made the news headlines. Piranha was the best man, tears streaming down his face as he recounted a story about Wolf's first attempt at baking a wedding cake. Snake, surprisingly, gave a heartfelt toast about the importance of finding a person who accepts you for who you are, a sentiment that resonated deeply with Wolf.

As you stood there, a vision in a simple white dress, and Wolf, in a perfectly tailored suit, you knew that your life had changed forever. The past was just that—the past. The future was a blank canvas, and you were ready to fill it with love, laughter, and a life built on a foundation of second chances and a love story that defied all expectations. The world might have seen them as a Wolf and a Jackal, an unlikely pair, but to them, they were just two souls who had found their way home to each other.

A love fanfic of Wolf from the Bad Guys movie x Y/N good carnivore Jackal citizen. Fitting Y/N Jackal in the The Bad Guys movie timeframes; Wolf proposing to Y/N with his crew and Diane.

The moon hung fat and bright over the city, casting long, dramatic shadows across the gleaming skyscrapers. From the penthouse apartment of the newly-reformed Professor Marmalade, a low, celebratory hum filled the air. It was a movie night, a weekly tradition that had quickly become a cherished part of their new, law-abiding lives.

Wolf sat on the plush leather couch, an empty bowl of popcorn balanced on his knee. He wasn’t watching the movie. His gaze kept drifting to you, a gentle Jackal who had been a good friend to the crew long before their redemption arc. You were curled in a large armchair, a soft blanket draped over your shoulders, laughing at something Piranha had just whispered. The sight made his lupine heart flutter in a way he never knew was possible.

He loved your easy smile, the way your ears would twitch when you were deep in thought, and the kind, steady warmth in your eyes. He’d known you since before the big heist, back when you were a simple but well-respected citizen. You’d never judged him or his crew for their reputation, always seeing the good beneath the bad. It was your unwavering faith that had, in a small but significant way, helped pave the path to their change.

A soft nudge to his arm brought him back to reality. It was Diane. She was looking at him with a knowing smirk. “You’re going to burn a hole in her with those eyes, Wolf.”

He let out a nervous huff. “It’s been a long time coming, Di. I think… I think it’s time.”

Diane’s eyes widened, a genuine, joyful sparkle replacing her usual diplomatic composure. “Are you serious? Wolf, that’s wonderful!” She leaned in closer. “The crew knows?”

He nodded, a nervous excitement building in his chest. “We talked. They’re all in. Even Snake.”

“Wow. That’s love,” she chuckled.

The movie ended, and the usual boisterous post-film chatter began. Wolf cleared his throat, commanding attention. “Alright, everyone, listen up. I have something to say.”

The crew, and you, fell silent. Tarantula’s eight eyes, a few of which were still covered in 3D glasses, blinked in curiosity. Snake, ever the cynic, simply raised a reptilian eyebrow.

Wolf stood up, his posture straight, his paws clasped behind his back. He walked over to you, his movements unusually deliberate. He reached out a hand, and you took it, your brow furrowed in concern.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice a low rumble. “You’ve seen us at our worst. The cons, the heists, the a-a-a-anarchy,” he stumbled over the word with a self-deprecating grin, and a few of the crew members snickered. “But you also saw something in us that no one else did. You saw the good.”

He knelt down, his gaze never leaving yours. The room was so quiet you could hear the distant city traffic.

“You’re a good carnivore, a good citizen, and an even better friend. You’re everything I didn’t know I was looking for. And now that I have a chance at a real life, a good life, I can’t imagine it without you.”

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. As he opened it, a simple, elegant silver ring with a small, glinting diamond caught the light.

“Y/N Jackal, I’m not great at this, but I know this much is true. You make me want to be a better person—a better wolf. Will you do me the honor of being my partner in life, my co-conspirator in all things good and honest? Y/N, will you marry me?”

A collective gasp from the crew filled the air, quickly followed by quiet, hopeful smiles. You stared at the ring, then at Wolf, the sincerity and vulnerability in his amber eyes making your own well up.

A slow smile spread across your face. “Yes, Wolf. Yes, I will.”

A roar erupted from the crew. Piranha let out a high-pitched whoop of joy. Shark burst into a flurry of happy-dances, and a rare, genuine smile broke across Snake’s face. Tarantula snapped pictures with her phone, her little legs a happy blur. Diane, standing by the doorway, wiped a tear from her eye, a look of pure happiness on her face.

Wolf stood up, a relieved and joyous grin transforming his face. He gently slid the ring onto your finger, and as he did, he pulled you into a deep, loving embrace. His crew and Diane crowded around, their cheers and well wishes creating a perfect, chaotic symphony of love and friendship. It was the start of their next great adventure, one that was finally, truly, for good.

A love fanfic of Wolf from the Bad Guys movie x Y/N as a good carnivore Jackal citizen. Fit Y/N Jackal in the The Bad Guys 2 movie timeframe. After Wolf and Y/N made their relationship status official as boyfriend and girlfriend, Wolf introduced you to his friends

The neon lights of the city hummed a soft lullaby against the backdrop of the night, their glow reflecting in the windows of a quiet cafe. Inside, Mr. Wolf, looking uncharacteristically nervous, fidgeted with the sugar packet on the table. Across from him, Y/N, a jackal with kind eyes and a demeanor that defied the city’s prejudice against carnivores, smiled reassuringly.

“Wolf,” Y/N said, their voice a gentle melody. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do this right now. We can take our time.”

Wolf’s ears twitched, and he looked up, a soft blush dusting his gray fur. “No, no, I want to. I just… I haven’t done this before, Y/N. This… official thing.” He gestured between them, his large paws seeming clumsy with the motion. “I’m a bad guy, remember? A reformed bad guy, but still… bad.”

Y/N reached across the table, their paw covering his. “You’re not bad, Wolf. You’re good. You’re the best person I know, and you’ve shown me that it’s not what you are, but who you choose to be. And I choose you.”

A genuine, heartfelt smile spread across Wolf’s face, and he squeezed Y/N’s paw. “Then I choose you too, Y/N. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Official.” The words, foreign at first, felt right on his tongue. He felt a lightness he hadn’t experienced since he embraced being good.

The next day, as the sun warmed the city streets, Wolf led Y/N through an alleyway, a secret shortcut he knew by heart. The ajar door to their hideout was a portal to a world Y/N had only heard about in news reports—a world of heists, camaraderie, and an unconventional family.

“Alright, team!” Wolf announced, his voice booming with a confidence that made Y/N’s heart flutter. “I want you all to meet someone very special to me.”

The hideout, a chaotic and yet oddly cozy space, was buzzing with activity. A tiny tarantula with a computer, a piranha in a fishbowl, a shark with a flair for disguise, and a legless snake with a sharp wit all turned to face them.

“Guys, this is Y/N,” Wolf said, his hand resting proudly on the small of Y/N’s back. “Y/N, this is the crew. That’s Piranha, the muscle; Shark, master of disguise; Webs, the brains; and Snake, the… well, he’s Snake.”

Y/N offered a polite bow, their tail giving a friendly wag. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all. Wolf has told me so much about you.”

Piranha, a whirlwind of energy, was the first to speak. “So, you’re the one who finally tamed the big bad wolf, huh? I knew he was getting soft.”

Snake, wrapped around a chair, eyed Y/N with a skeptical glint in his eyes. “A good carnivore? I thought they were just a myth.”

Wolf’s tail swished defensively. “Hey! Y/N is a good person, Snake. The best. And they’re my… my official person now.”

Shark, surprisingly, was the most welcoming. He lumbered forward, his wide mouth forming a friendly grin. “Wolf’s been talking about you non-stop. It’s about time we met the person who makes him smile like that.”

Webs, her tiny form barely visible, typed furiously on her keyboard. “A new dynamic. This will be interesting to observe.”

As the initial introductions settled, Y/N found themselves enveloped in the strange, wonderful chaos of the Bad Guys. They saw the genuine care beneath Piranha’s loud jokes, the loyalty behind Shark’s quiet presence, the surprising warmth in Snake’s sarcastic remarks, and the sharp mind of Webs. Y/N knew this wasn’t just about being with Wolf; it was about being accepted into his family. And as Wolf’s arm wrapped around them, pulling them close, Y/N knew they had found their place not just in his heart, but in his world.

Write a platonic fanfic of human Akaza x Y/N as Kyoyuki’s older sister. You were surprised how your dad brought a teenage boy to your home. You’ve always taken care of your sister. But without your father’s help and him running the dojo, you struggled carrying your sister so Akaza did it on your behalf as well as your sister. You were shocked yet happy that they were to be married. However, death came too soon than you expected. You didn’t drink the poisoned water from the well like your father and little sister. You mourned and had a panic attack from their death. After Akaza killed the rival dojo, he returned to you to find still at your deceased’s family home and dojo. Both of you figured out what to do next.

The front door of the dojo slid open with a gentle rattle, and my father, a man whose presence was as solid as the foundation of our home, stepped inside. Behind him, a young man with striking pink hair stood awkwardly, his head bowed slightly. My heart, accustomed to the quiet rhythm of our life, gave a lurch. A guest? A new student? He seemed so out of place.

"Y/N," my father announced, his voice carrying the warmth of a freshly brewed pot of tea. "This is Hakuji. He will be staying with us for a while. A very strong boy."

Hakuji looked up then, and his gaze was direct and earnest. I gave a small nod of welcome, still processing this unexpected addition to our small family. My life had always revolved around caring for my younger sister, Kyoyuki, who was frail and often needed to be carried. Her laughter was the brightest sound in our home, but the physical strain of moving her was a silent weight I carried on my own.

A few days later, my father had a fever, and with the dojo to run, he couldn't help me as he usually did. I struggled to lift Kyoyuki, my arms trembling from the effort. It was a moment of quiet despair when a shadow fell over me. Hakuji had approached without a sound.

"May I?" he asked, his voice low and respectful.

Before I could answer, he had gently scooped my sister into his arms. He was surprisingly careful, his large, calloused hands supporting her with a tenderness I hadn't expected. Kyoyuki giggled, her tiny hands reaching out to touch his pink hair. A wave of relief, so profound it brought tears to my eyes, washed over me. It was the first time I felt like I didn't have to carry the burden alone.

From that day forward, a new dynamic settled into our home. Hakuji and Kyoyuki shared an innocent bond that blossomed into love. My father, overjoyed, announced their engagement, and my heart soared. I felt a sense of peace I hadn't known before. I would no longer have to worry about my sister's future; she would have a loving husband to care for her.

The joy was short-lived.

I woke up one morning to a stillness that was not normal. The usual sounds of morning were absent. I found my father and my sister, still and silent, their skin pale and cold. A terrible, bitter odor lingered in the air. The well water. I hadn’t drunk any the night before, but they had. I collapsed on the floor, the world spinning in a vortex of horror. A wail tore from my throat, raw and animalistic. The panic attack came, an unseen monster strangling the air from my lungs. The weight of the tragedy was suffocating, and I was utterly alone. I stayed there for days, in the wreckage of my family, unable to move or think.

When Hakuji returned, his clothes were stained with blood from the rival dojo that had poisoned our well. His face, normally so stoic, was a mask of grief. He found me, still sitting among the stillness, numb and broken.

He didn't speak. He simply sat with me, the silence between us a heavy blanket. We sat for a long time, two survivors in a world that had just lost its light. Then, he looked at me, his eyes filled with a grief that mirrored my own.

"We have to go," he said, his voice a low rumble. "We can't stay here."

I looked around the home that held all my memories—the good ones, and now, the terrible ones. I nodded slowly. There was nothing left for us here. The path ahead was dark and uncertain, but for the first time in a long time, I wasn't alone. We would figure it out, together.

A platonic fanfic of human Akaza x Y/N as Kyoyuki’s older sister. You didn’t drink the poisoned water from the well like your father and little sister. You mourned and had a panic attack from their death. After Akaza killed the rival dojo, he returned to you to find still at your deceased’s family home and dojo. Both of you figured out what to do next.

The quiet was heavier than the humid night air, a thick blanket woven from sorrow and loss. Akaza walked through the front gate of the dojo, the silence of his footsteps on the dirt path swallowed by the immense weight of the place. He had returned, the mission complete, the debt repaid. Yet, the victory felt hollow.

He found her in the main hall, sitting cross-legged in front of the family altar. Her back was ramrod straight, but the tremors running through her shoulders betrayed her composure. The air around her was a storm of grief, a silent tempest of panic that threatened to shatter the fragile peace of the room. The fresh incense was a faint, mocking scent over the lingering, sickly sweetness of what had happened just days before.

He didn't announce his presence. He simply stood there, a solid, unmoving presence in the doorway, his chest a tight, aching knot. He had fought, bled, and killed for this family. He had done it for her father, for the gentle little girl who had once offered him a simple candied bun. He had done it for Y/N, the one who had kept him grounded, the one who understood his silent burdens.

She flinched as she finally sensed his presence, her head snapping up. Her eyes, red and swollen, were wide with a raw pain that cut him deeper than any blade. He didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. He knew she hadn't touched the well water. She was the one who had found them, the one who had screamed until her voice was gone.

The panic that had been simmering inside her for days finally broke. A choked sob escaped her lips, and she buried her face in her hands, her body shaking uncontrollably. The sobs were jagged, torn from the deepest parts of her soul, each one a testament to the family she had lost. Akaza moved then, not to touch her, but to sit a respectful distance away. He sat with his hands resting on his knees, a vigilant sentinel, simply existing in the space beside her.

Hours passed. The moon rose and began its slow descent. The sounds of the night—the chirping crickets, the rustling leaves—began to filter back into the dojo, no longer overshadowed by the crushing grief. Y/N’s sobs eventually quieted to a soft, shuddering breath. She didn't look at him, but she spoke into the silent air.

"What now?" she whispered, her voice a fragile thing.

The question hung between them, a question for both of them. He had fulfilled his promise, but it had cost him everything. He had no home, no family. The old life he had dreamed of was gone. The only thing left was this woman, sitting broken in front of the altar.

"We find something else," Akaza said, his voice a low rumble. "We figure it out. Together."

It wasn't a promise of happiness, or even of a future without pain. It was a simple statement of fact, a vow of companionship forged in the crucible of shared loss. He had avenged them, and now he would stand by the one who was left. The path ahead was unknown, but for the first time in days, it wasn't a complete blank. It was a path they would walk side by side.

A love fanfic of Giyu Tomioka x Y/N demon slayer. Their first night as husband and wife

The scent of wisteria and aged wood filled the small home, a quiet, reassuring aroma that was a world away from the metallic tang of demon blood. The formal wedding clothes had been set aside, replaced by simple, comfortable nightwear. Y/N sat by the open engawa, watching the last vestiges of twilight fade into a deep indigo. It was all a little overwhelming, this sudden, profound peace.

A quiet presence settled beside her, and she felt the familiar warmth of Giyu's hand covering her own. He said nothing, simply offering his companionship in the silent language they had perfected over years of shared missions. She leaned her head against his shoulder, a small, contented sigh escaping her lips.

"It's so quiet," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

He squeezed her hand gently. "That's a good thing, isn't it?"

She laughed softly, the sound tinkling in the serene night. "Yes. I just... I almost don't know what to do with it."

He finally spoke, his voice a low, soothing hum. "You don't have to do anything. Just be."

And for the first time in as long as she could remember, she truly did. The weight of her sword, the constant vigilance, the fear—it all melted away in the warmth of his touch. He was her haven, the calm center of a world in chaos. His hand left hers for a moment, only to return with a small, delicate comb. He gently began to untangle her long hair, his movements slow and deliberate. Each stroke was a silent promise, an act of service that meant more than a thousand words.

"You've been through so much," she whispered, her eyes welling up with tears of gratitude.

He stopped, his fingers still in her hair. "So have you."

He turned her to face him, his face illuminated by the moonlight. He looked so different without the stern mask of the Water Hashira—vulnerable, kind, and so deeply in love. He leaned forward and kissed her, a tender, unhurried kiss that tasted of the quiet happiness they had found together. It was not a kiss of passion, but of comfort, of a shared history, and of a future finally within reach.

Later, as they lay together under the warm blankets, she rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady, strong rhythm of his heart. The fear of demons, of losing him, of an uncertain tomorrow—it was all there, a ghost in the back of her mind. But so was the comforting weight of his arm around her, the soft feel of his breath on her hair, and the promise of a new dawn. It was enough. For tonight, it was everything.

A love fanfic of Taigen Usui x Y/N demon slayer. Their first night as husband and wife

The wisteria-scented air of the estate was quiet, save for the gentle rustle of leaves outside. The moonlight, soft and silver, spilled through the shoji screens, illuminating the room where Tengen Usui and Y/N began their first night as husband and wife. The air, usually filled with the boisterous energy of the Sound Hashira, was now thick with a comfortable silence.

Tengen sat on the floor, his usual flamboyant attire replaced by a simple, dark kimono. The ornate jewels and headgear were gone, revealing the true face of the man beneath the flashiness—a face marked by battles but softened by love. He watched Y/N, who was seated across from him, her own features illuminated by the moon. Her demon slayer uniform, a symbol of the dangerous life they both led, was also set aside, replaced by a beautiful, simple garment that felt as soft as her presence.

"It’s… quiet," Y/N said, her voice a gentle murmur. "A different kind of quiet."

Tengen chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that filled the space. "It is. But a quiet I’ve been looking forward to for a very long time." He reached out, his hand, calloused from years of wielding his blades, taking hers. His touch was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the strength he was known for.

He moved to sit beside her, drawing her close. The scent of his familiar cologne mixed with the faint smell of steel and gunpowder—the lingering ghost of his profession—but beneath it all was the grounding, secure scent of him. Y/N leaned into his embrace, finding comfort in the solidness of his form. For so long, their lives had been defined by the hunt, by the constant vigilance against a world of shadows and teeth. Tonight, there were no demons, no missions, no frantic dashes through the dark. Only this. Only them.

Tengen’s chin rested on her head, his voice a whisper against her hair. "For years, my life was all about being flamboyant, about living extravagantly to defy death. But a part of me always craved this… a calm, beautiful life with someone I could protect and love. With you, Y/N."

Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes. She had always seen the flashiness, the larger-than-life persona, but she had also seen the man behind it—the one who cared deeply for his wives, the one who fought with such ferocity not for glory, but for the safety of others. Now, she was a part of that safe world he was building.

"I love you, Tengen," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

He held her tighter, his heart, a warrior’s heart, finally at peace. "And I you, my magnificent wife. Our first night is here. It is flamboyant in its own way, because it is ours." He kissed her forehead, and together, they welcomed the beautiful, quiet dawn of their new life.

A fanfic of Hwang In-Youp x Y/N where you and a few friends went to travel to South Korea. One day, you hold the door him to enter first. You didn’t recognize him at first and later told your friends about the shocking event. Days later, you met him again and pretend you didn’t see him because he’s famous to be recognized. He used you his away from his fans/paparazzi; he said sorry for scarying you at first, then he recognized you from opening the door for him days before. For the rest of the trip and your friends spent time with him, you gave each other contact numbers to stay in touch. Before leaving to go to security, you turned back and waved to him. Since then you contacted each other when you can due to time differences and work schedules. From time to time, you see each other in person on vacation trips

The plan for our trip to Seoul was simple: explore, eat amazing food, and soak in the culture. My friends and I were a few days into our adventure, already lost in the rhythm of the city. One afternoon, we were taking a break at a small cafe near our hotel. As I was heading out, I noticed someone with a hoodie and mask about to come in with their hands full. I reached for the door handle and held it open for them.

"Thank you," he said, his voice deep and polite as he passed by. I just nodded and smiled, not really paying attention to who it was. It wasn't until I sat back down with my friends that one of them, wide-eyed, whispered, "Was that Hwang In-youp?"

I laughed it off at first. "No way," I said, but as they pulled up a picture, the shock set in. It was him. Just a normal, everyday encounter. For the rest of the day, we couldn't stop talking about the unlikely event.

A few days later, the event faded into a funny travel story. We were navigating a busy shopping district when I felt a hand on my arm. A familiar face, though now unmasked, leaned in and said in a hurried tone, "Please, just walk with me." I froze, but my friends, sensing something was wrong, quickly closed ranks around us. As we moved with purpose through the crowd, I saw flashes from cameras and heard people calling his name. He was using our small group as a shield to escape the growing crowd.

We finally found a quieter street, and he let out a sigh of relief. "I am so sorry," he said, pulling down his hood. "That was so rude. Thank you for not running." He looked at me, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "Wait... you're the one who held the door for me a few days ago, aren't you?"

We all stood there, a bit stunned, but a smile slowly spread across his face. "I'm still embarrassed about that," he said. "It was a really nice thing to do." The rest of the afternoon was spent getting to know each other, sharing stories about our travels and his work. It turned out we had a lot in common beyond a chance meeting. Before parting ways, we exchanged contact information, promising to stay in touch.

A fanfic of Ahn Hyo Seop x Y/N where you and a few friends went to travel to South Korea. One day, you hold the door him to enter first. You didn’t recognize him at first and later told your friends about the shocking event. Days later, you met him again and pretend you didn’t see him because he’s famous to be recognized. He used you his away from his fans/paparazzi; he said sorry for scarying you at first, then he recognized you from opening the door for him days before. For the rest of the trip and your friends spent time with him, you gave each other contact numbers to stay in touch. Before leaving to go to security, you turned back and waved to him. Since then you contacted each other when you can due to time differences and work schedules. From time to time, you see each other in person on vacation trips

The Seoul air was a crisp blend of city energy and the faint scent of street food. You and your friends, a small group of six, were halfway through a two-week trip, and every day felt like a new adventure. One afternoon, you were leaving a small cafe after a round of lattes, and you instinctively held the heavy glass door open for the person behind you. He was tall, dressed in casual clothes, and gave you a quick, grateful nod as he passed. You barely got a good look at his face, just noticed his kind eyes before he disappeared into the busy street.

It wasn't until later that evening, while scrolling through your phone, that a friend showed you an article about Ahn Hyo Seop. "Isn't he so handsome?" she said. You glanced at the picture, and your stomach did a little flip. The kind eyes, the height, the casual style—it was the same man from the cafe. The quiet gratitude you had seen in his face now made perfect sense. Your friends were beside themselves, both in shock and with a tiny bit of envy for your near-miss.

A few days later, you found yourself wandering alone through a different neighborhood, taking pictures of the vibrant murals. You turned a corner and saw him again, this time with a mask and a hat pulled low over his eyes. As you looked closer, you noticed a few people with large cameras a short distance away, pretending to be absorbed in their phones. You instinctively understood the situation and quickly looked away, wanting to give him space. He was a celebrity, and he had a right to his privacy. You started to walk in the opposite direction, hoping he hadn't noticed you.

Suddenly, a hand gently grasped your arm, and you were pulled into a narrow alleyway between two buildings. Your heart raced, but he immediately let go and held his hands up in a gesture of apology. “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said quickly, his voice low and a little breathless. “I just needed to get away from them.”

He took a moment to catch his breath, then looked at you properly. His eyes widened slightly. "Wait a minute," he said, a genuine smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. "You’re the girl from the cafe. The one who held the door for me. It’s you, isn’t it?”

You couldn't help but laugh, the initial shock replaced by a sense of surprise. “Yeah, it’s me,” you said.

He explained his predicament, and the two of you spent the next hour talking, trading stories about your trip and his work. He was easy to talk to, and you were struck by his down-to-earth nature. You and your friends ended up spending the rest of your trip with him. He was a fantastic guide, showing you hidden gems and local hangouts you would have never found on your own. You shared many laughs and made memories you knew would last a lifetime.

At the airport, you said your goodbyes. The parting was bittersweet, but a promise was made to stay in touch. You exchanged contact numbers, and as you walked toward security, you turned back one last time to wave. He smiled and waved back, a genuine, fond farewell.

A fanfic of Hwang In-Youp x Y/N based on the picture below:

The air in the Honolulu Convention Center hummed with a mix of excitement and humidity, but all you could focus on was the figure on the stage. Hwang In-Youp, looking even more charismatic in person than he did on screen, was answering questions from a lucky few fans. Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of nerves and pure adoration, as you clutched the microphone. This was your chance.

When the staff member gave you the nod, you took a deep breath. "Hello," you began, your voice trembling slightly. "My name is Y/N, and I'm a huge fan. I just wanted to say that you are truly an amazing actor and person. Your work has brought so much joy to so many people, including me, and I admire your talent and sincerity so much. Thank you for everything you do."

Hwang In-Youp's face broke into a warm, genuine smile. He listened intently, and when you finished, he gestured for you to come closer to the stage. Your legs felt like jelly, but you made your way forward. He reached out and gently took your hand, a gesture that sent a jolt through you.

A fanfic of Ahn Hyo-Seop x Y/N. He came to Hawaii for vacation and privacy. You accidentally bumped into him and apologized, but you recognized him from the dramas you seen him in. To be a respectful and courteous fan of his, you wrote a note to say sorry and that you’re a fan of his. He was forever grateful not only you like him as a person. But, not yelling out his name to reveal his celebrity identity in public and support him

The Hawaiian sun was a balm on his skin, a stark contrast to the relentless pace of Seoul. For Ahn Hyo-Seop, this vacation was more than just a break; it was a desperate quest for anonymity. He had traded the clamor of the city for the gentle whisper of the trade winds, his usual designer clothes for a simple baseball cap and a plain t-shirt. He was just a man enjoying a coffee on a quiet area im Ala Moana, hoping no one would notice him.

Lost in his thoughts, he wasn't paying attention when a young woman, her arms laden with fresh pineapples and a floral-print bag, rounded the corner. They collided with a soft thud. The pineapples went tumbling, and a small gasp escaped her lips.

"Oh, my gosh, I am so, so sorry!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine concern. She immediately knelt down to help him, her eyes wide as she gathered the scattered fruit.

He shook his head, a soft smile on his face. "It's okay. I wasn't looking where I was going."

Their hands brushed as they both reached for the last pineapple. For a fleeting second, her eyes met his, and he saw the flicker of recognition. It was a look he knew all too well—the moment a stranger's gaze shifts from casual to knowing. Her expression froze for just an instant, a barely-there intake of breath. Then, with a remarkable display of composure, she simply smiled.

"Here you go," she said softly, handing him the pineapple. "I hope you have a great day." She quickly gathered her things and walked away, not asking for a photo, not yelling his name, and not revealing his identity to the few people passing by. It was a small act, but it meant the world to him.

Later that afternoon, back at his hotel, he was unpacking his bag when he noticed a small, folded piece of paper tucked into a pocket. He unfolded it to find a handwritten note, the elegant script instantly recognizable as hers.

To the kind man in Ala Moana,

I'm so sorry about this morning. It was entirely my fault. I just wanted to apologize again and also let you know that I am a huge fan of your work. I recognized you, of course, but I wanted to show you the same respect and privacy you clearly came here to find. I hope you're having a wonderful and peaceful vacation. Thank you for all the incredible stories you bring to life.

Sincerely, a grateful fan, Y/N

A genuine, heartfelt smile spread across his face. It wasn't just the apology; it was the kindness, the respect, and the quiet understanding. She didn't want anything from him. She just wanted him to know that his privacy was valued, and that his art was cherished. In a world of bright lights and loud praises, this small, handwritten note was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

A love fanfic of Ahn Hyo-Seop x Y/N. He came to Hawaii for vacation and privacy. You accidentally bumped into him and apologized. You bought him souvenirs for his visit and to make it up to him. He was very grateful for what you did for him, and he became interested in you. He asked locals if they knew you, but unfortunately, they said no. So he used social media (Honolulu only) to ask people to help him find you. After finding you, he treated you to lunch/dinner/drink

The Hawaiian sun beat down on Ahn Hyo-Seop's shoulders, a welcome warmth after the constant buzz of Seoul. He had come here for one reason: to disappear. With a wide-brimmed hat pulled low and a pair of sunglasses, he found a sliver of privacy on a quiet street in Honolulu, far from the tourist-packed beaches. He was enjoying the rare, unbothered moment, taking in the scent of frangipani and the rhythmic sound of a distant ukulele.

His tranquility was shattered in an instant. Rounding a corner, he collided with a flurry of shopping bags and a small, yelping figure. He staggered back, steadying himself just as a collection of colorful fabrics and woven baskets tumbled to the pavement.

"Oh my gosh, I am so, so sorry!" you exclaimed, dropping to your knees to frantically gather your purchases. "I was just so focused on not getting lost that I wasn't watching where I was going. Are you okay?"

You looked up, and for a split second, your eyes met. He felt a jolt of recognition, but before you could process who he was, he smiled, a genuine, easy grin. "I'm perfectly fine," he said in perfect English, his voice calm and melodic. "It was my fault too. I was lost in thought."

Embarrassed, you finished collecting your things, but you felt a deep need to make it right. You couldn't stop thinking about the kind stranger you had so carelessly bumped into. Later that afternoon, you found yourself at a small, local market, picking out the perfect gifts. A small, hand-carved turtle keychain, a bar of Kona coffee-scented soap, and a woven wristband that felt both simple and authentic. You hurried back to the area where you had seen him, and to your surprise, he was still there, sitting on a bench, looking at his phone.

"Excuse me," you said, holding out the small bag. "I just wanted to apologize again. This is just a small token of my apology and a welcome gift from Hawaii. I hope you enjoy it."

He looked at the bag, then back at you, a genuine look of surprise on his face. "You didn't have to do this," he said softly, taking the bag from your hand. "Thank you. This is very kind."

He opened the bag, and a warm, grateful smile spread across his face. "You know, in my job, people rarely just do something nice for no reason," he said. "This means a lot to me."

He was mesmerized. In a world of flashing cameras and carefully managed interactions, your pure, unscripted kindness was a breath of fresh air. But he had been so flustered by your unexpected gesture that he had forgotten to ask for your name. He watched you disappear back around the corner, leaving him with a heart that felt a little fuller and a desire to see you again.

He tried asking a few people who worked nearby, but no one knew who you were. He knew he couldn't publicly post a photo of himself. So he did the next best thing. He logged onto a private social media account he used for close friends and family, posting a photo of the gifts you had given him. The caption read: "To the kind stranger in Honolulu who made my day. If you know who this is, please help me find them." He added a geo-tag for Honolulu and waited.

It didn't take long. His post went viral among his friends and family, and soon it was spotted by someone in Honolulu who saw the gifts and knew exactly who had purchased them. Within an hour, his manager was discreetly provided with your contact information.

He messaged you directly, his heart pounding a little faster than usual. "This is a bit embarrassing," he wrote, "but this is Ahn Hyo-Seop. I was the guy you bumped into. And I'd love to treat you to a drink sometime, if you're free. To properly thank you, of course."

You read the message several times, your jaw on the floor. It was him. And he remembered you. You quickly agreed.

You met him a few days later at a small coffee shop tucked away from the main road. He was just as handsome in person and just as kind. There were no flashing cameras, no screaming fans, just the two of you, sitting across from each other. He ordered a black coffee, and you ordered a mango smoothie.

"Thank you again for what you did," he said, taking a sip of his coffee. "It really was the nicest thing anyone has done for me in a long time."

You just smiled. "I'm glad. I felt terrible about bumping into you."

You talked for hours, the easy conversation flowing between you like the ocean tide. He told you about his love for acting and the pressure that came with it. You told him about your life in Hawaii, your family, and your love for the island. He wasn't just Ahn Hyo-Seop, the celebrity; he was just Hyo-Seop, a person who had a kind heart and a beautiful smile.

A love fanfic of the Saint’s power is omnipotent, Albert Hawks x Y/N childhood friend. You have telekinesis magic, and he has ice magic. They grew up together, missed him, and prayed for his health and safety when fighting against monsters with other soldiers and the saint that came from another world. You felt hurt and sad seeing that there’s a connection between him and Sei. Then, a miasma monster attacked you. Albert rushed back home with Sei to heal you. You were sad that you survived; you didn’t want to be saved. At some point, you and Albert discussed his relationship with Sei and that it’s only a friendship. Then, they confessed at night in a meadow and kissed. Later, they got married and had kids

Sunlight streamed through the window, catching dust motes dancing in the air as you sat at your writing desk. You couldn’t focus on your work. Instead, your hand hovered over a blank piece of parchment, your thoughts drifting to the one person who occupied your mind day and night: Albert. He was the most talented mage you knew, his ice magic was both beautiful and deadly, and he was out there on the battlefield, protecting the kingdom from monstrous threats.

You worried constantly about him. Every time you heard a rumble of distant thunder, you wondered if it was a sign of a new battle. Every time a letter arrived for someone else, your heart sank just a little. You closed your eyes, and a familiar warmth spread through your chest. Your telekinesis was a comfort in times like these, a way to feel connected to the world, to feel in control when everything else was so uncertain. You let your thoughts wander, praying for his safety, for his swift return.

When you did see him again, it wasn't how you had imagined. He was always with the Saint, a woman from another world named Sei. It hurt to see them together. They had a connection you didn't, a bond forged in battle and shared purpose. You saw the way he looked at her, the respect and admiration in his eyes, and a cold dread would settle in your stomach. Was this it? Had you lost him to someone else?

One day, while tending to your garden, a miasma monster, a creature of pure malice, attacked you. You had no time to react. The world twisted into a blur of black and purple, and then nothing. You awoke to the familiar scent of herbs and the soft feel of your own bedsheets. Sei was there, her gentle hands glowing with a soft, green light as she healed the last of your injuries. You felt a wave of sadness wash over you. You were alive. You had survived. And you didn't want to. You just wanted the pain to stop, the pain of seeing him with her.

Later that night, Albert sat by your bed, his face a mix of concern and guilt. “I'm sorry,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “I should have been here.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you whispered, your voice raw. “You have the Saint to protect.”

He froze. “What are you talking about?”

“The way you look at her,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. “I see it. I thought…I thought we were meant to be.”

Albert’s expression softened. He took your hand in his, his touch gentle. “Y/N, she’s a friend. She’s an ally. The way I look at her is with respect, not… not love.” He paused, looking directly into your eyes. “That’s not something I feel for her. That’s something I’ve only ever felt for you.”

The night was cool and clear. You and Albert walked through a field of wildflowers, the moon casting a silver glow over everything. The air was filled with the sweet scent of night-blooming jasmine, and your telekinesis hummed with a quiet joy. You had talked for hours about everything and nothing. The distance between you had disappeared, replaced by the familiar closeness of your childhood.

He stopped and looked at you, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “More than words can say.”

“I’ve missed you too, Albert,” you confessed, a tear rolling down your cheek.

He reached out and gently wiped it away with his thumb. “Don’t cry. Not for me. Not anymore.” He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. The kiss was soft and sweet, a promise of a future you had only dared to dream of.

Years passed, and your love only deepened. You were married in that same field of wildflowers, surrounded by friends and family. Later, you welcomed a son and a daughter, both with your gift of telekinesis and his piercing blue eyes. You taught them to control their magic, to use it for good. And at night, when the children were asleep, you and Albert would sit together, his hand in yours, and watch the stars. The world was still full of danger, but you were safe, together, at last.