#Drabble event

[aayakashii]

Can I please get a 29❤️ and 33❤️ fluffy for Haku please?

29❤️ A kiss to the back of the hand

33❤️ A kiss to a scar, birthmark, injury, or other marking

I got to use the cute gif I wanted!! >:D *rubs hands together*

Urgent!!

I am being stalked!

??????

What?? Are you okay, Haku???

Who's stalking you??

Come meet me at the courtyard and I'll show you

... you'll show me? Your stalker?

Yes

Save me please?

... okay...? I'm going

My hero <3

As you hurriedly walk towards the courtyard, your head turn left and right, looking for Haku. The heavy bag on your back slams against you as you jog back and forth, frantically searching for Hotarubi's vice-captain. After all, even though his messages had been a little weird, you didn't want to risk not taking something as dangerous as a possible stalker seriously.

You stop in your tracks once you hear a nearby voice call out your name, and, quickly turning around on your feet, you manage to see Haku's yellow eyes peeking from behind a tree.

Maybe he was trying to hide from someone, you thought.

Swallowing hard, you try to walk quietly towards him in order to avoid any unwanted attention.

"Thank you for coming to save me" Haku say nonchalantly, smiling at you from his seat on the ground and against the tall tree.

You look left and right and wipe the sweat off your forehead, your eyes wide and alert.

“Where are they? Your stalker?” you whisper anxiously while you sit beside him, and Haku’s lips form an ‘o’ before he chuckles as if he had just remembered a hilarious joke.

“Right, the stalker. There it is” he points to the space in front of him.

“What? Where?” you crane your neck, trying to look at whatever was in the distance.

“No, no” he taps your shoulder “It isn't far away. It's really right there. There. Look.” he wiggles his finger, as if it would make you see better.

You squint, looking at the grass. That was all that was in front of him at that moment. Until you see a flash of dark brown jump up and down on the spot, and finally you manage to make out the so-called ‘stalker.’

“That's... a tanuki?” you widen your eyes in surprise after you manage to properly make out the silhouette of the little animal that rolled around between the blades of grass, almost unnoticeable with a little leaf on its head. 

It is a tiny little thing. And very round too. Is every cute anomaly round like that?, you think. But then you turn around to face Haku and raise one eyebrow, looking at him in disbelief. 

“THAT'S your stalker?”

Haku shrugs.

“It's been following me everywhere the past few days, you know? It’s even trying to sleep on my pillow at night and now I have to be careful not to roll around so I won’t smush it to death. It’s a serious problem, believe it or not.”

You roll your eyes at how Haku smirks while he explains his ‘terrible’ predicament to you.

“Well, why don't you take it to Jabberwock?” you ask. He hisses, as if you had just asked a hard question, and bashfully scratches his cheek

“It wasn’t a lack of trying” Haku then shows you the back of his left hand, where you could see a long and nasty red cut opening the skin. You gasp loudly.

“That tiny thing did this?!”

Haku sighs, nodding as if he also didn’t believe what had happened to him.

“It's a feisty little guy.”

“I can definitely see that” you gaze at the small tanuki with a bit more caution, brows scrunched up in surprise. “Well, first let’s take care of this awful wound and then we think of the rest. Can’t have you dying of tetanus because of a 10cm tall tanuki.” you say, opening your backpack and pulling out a medkit from its confines.

Haku whistles.

“You always carry that with you?”

“Of course. Have you ever spent more than a minute with the other ghouls? I literally need to be prepared for anything.”

This time, Haku laughs genuinely.

“Fair enough.”

You take your time to carefully disinfect his cut, apply one of the many anomalous anointments you had picked up at the general store and then you wait for it to dry before bandaging his hand.

After a few moments of silence, with Haku most definitely basking in the feeling of your hands cradling his, you can't control your curiosity anymore.

“Okay but uh…” you stutter, lightly touching the ointment and then grabbing a clean bandage once you noticed it was dry. “Why did you ask me for my help? I’m just a human.”

Haku looks up, in thought.

“Well, I know you have a way with these little guys. Peekaboo loves you, doesn’t he?”

You hum, not fully convinced.

“But what if it scratches me too?” 

Haku leans towards you, suddenly looking serious.

“Then I'll kill it” he murmurs, with a tinge of darkness in his voice.

You gasp loudly, startling the tanuki that had began to take a nap under the sun and in front of you.

“No!!!! Dont!!! It's cute!! Don't kill it!!!” you almost yell, clutching Haku’s hand tightly while you stare at him, eyes wide as saucers.

“Pffftt! Hahaha! It's okay, I was joking. I won't kill it.” he laughs, leaning back against the tree.

You scrunch your brows, looking at him with suspicion, not completely sure that he was just joking right there. You then tap his now bandaged hand lightly and sigh.

“Okay, it's done.”

Haku tilts his head to the side and pouts.

“Aw. Can’t I have a little kiss on my wound to make it better?”

You glare at him for a moment, before pulling his hand towards your lips and kissing his fingers, avoiding the bandage for safety.

You turn your head away quickly so he wouldn’t see you flustered by your own actions. You end up missing the way his jaw hangs low, completely taken aback by you. 

Haku clears his throat and scratches his cheek again, embarrassed.

“Well, now I really can't kill it. It got me a kiss. Maybe it's my new lucky charm.”

“Stop it.” you gently slap his shoulder. "Okay now... The anomaly." you mutter, more to yourself than to him.

You shift your position, sitting on your feet while you lean towards the lazy tanuki in front of you. The little thing was having the time of its life, warming his round belly under one of the sun rays that peeked through the large tree’s foliage. You stretch your arm towards it, the palm of your hand facing up so it’d climb on its own. You were just guessing what would be the right way to deal with that anomaly, but, much to your surprise, it slowly got up on its stubby little legs and walked towards you, quickly plopping on your hand and resuming its nap.

You get up from your seat carefully, mouth open wide in pure awe while you frantically motion for Haku to get up too. He snorts at the sight of your enthusiasm, also getting up.

“Let's take this guy to a place where he'll be safe.” you murmur, staring at the anomaly that was fully relaxed in your hands.

“Oh, it's okay, no need to take me anywhere. I'm safe with you” Haku said, smirking. 

You finally snapped your head towards the man beside you, feeling your cheeks tingle at his teasing.

“Haku!”

“Hahahaha! Sorry.” he chuckles, raising his arms in defeat. “Yes, let's give it a place to live.”

As you two make your way to Jabberwock, Haku suddenly pouts, feigning hurt while he looks at the creature you were so carefully holding.

“I can’t believe a tanuki managed to take a nap on you before me. You really have a way with conquering us, monsters.” 

You sigh. There was absolutely no end to this man's teasing and his flirting, you think.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say” you mumble, exasperated. He just laughs, pleased at your reactions.

I tried to make parallels between the smol tanuki and Haku, basically like: they're both lazy and they both quickly like you ;w; I hope it was easy to notice that lmao

[118dailydrabble]

Welcome to 118 Daily Drabble

118 Prompts; 118 Words; 100 Days

Starting November 27th, around 1:00pm EST, a one word prompt will be posted to this blog for 100 consecutive days ending on March 6th. Anyone who wants to can use the word to write a 9-1-1 drabble that equals exactly 118 words. This is a real drabble challenge.

General Rules:

Drabbles must be 118 words exactly. (Since different word counters sometimes give different results, we are using AO3 as a standard.)

The word of the day must be included in your drabble. However, the words themselves do not need to be exact. For example, if the word is zip, it could be used as zip, zipping, zipper, zipped, and unzip. The words may also have double meanings and can be used either way. For example, complex can mean both difficult or can mean a group of similar buildings. Both would be accepted.

There are 18 words that can be used as replacement words throughout. For example, say the word of the day is goal but you can’t think of anything, you can use one of the 18 replacement words instead.

If you aren’t a writer or are inspired to create something for a prompt that isn’t writing, please feel free! As long as the creation incorporates the prompt, it is allowed. (Other creations could be art, poetry, podfic, etc.) 

Content Rules: 

Drabbles must use characters from 9-1-1 on ABC. (You can write for 911LS if you’d like, but only drabbles from 9-1-1 on ABC will be reblogged and/or accepted as part of the collection.)

There are no content restrictions. As long as your fic is tagged appropriately, you can write whatever you want. (This includes ratings, warnings, ships, etc. We are not here to police writing, only to encourage it.) 

Crossovers and original characters are accepted as long as the main focus is on 9-1-1 on ABC.

Drabbles can be posted to the 118 Daily Drabble AO3 Collection here or using the tag #118dailydrabble.

FAQ:

Do the drabbles have to be 118 words? 

Yes! That’s the fun and challenge of the event. (To be honest, I will not be checking every single word count for the drabbles… but I trust everyone not to lie to me. Please don’t lie to me, I’m fragile.) 

Do I have to write every single day if I choose to participate?

Absolutely not! You can choose to write as little as 1 prompt or all 118, that’s totally up to you! 

Do I have to post my drabbles on AO3? 

Nope! There will be a collection for them, but you can also just post to Tumblr/X/Bluesky/Internet-Place if you prefer. This event will only have a Tumblr in terms of reblogging content but feel free to use the tag #118dailydrabble on other platforms.

Can I make a chaptered fic on AO3 for this event?

Absolutely. If you choose to do a chaptered fic, each drabble must be its own chapter, though.

What are the extra 18 words?

1. Dosed 2. Broken 3. Rage 4. Malfunction 5. Fallout 6. Fools 7. Powerless 8. Jinx 9. Survivors 10. Panic 11. Cursed 12. Recovery 13. Capsized 14. Buzzkill 15. Masks 16. Confessions 17. Hotshots 18. Wannabes

Have more questions? Feel free to send an ask here!

[lady-ashfade]

👾 “Just a favor”

Prompt: Platonic. -Drabble challenge

The party x Platonic!Male!reader[Henderson reader! Dustin’s older brother][goth/punk reader?][not cannon events]

“What the hell?” You spit before your mouth is covered, by non other then your annoying brother. There he stood, his annoying friends and the weird girl you meet a year ago.

“Please keep it down, mom’s sleeping and we’d like to keep it that way.” You are stunned as they push you aside and walk into your room. You shut the door and turn back, the glare on your face making Dustin thrown his hands up.

“We need someone to drive us to the arcade-” you groan before he can finish and put your hands on your hips.

“No,- No. It’s dark out, and I have plans. I’m not wasting my gas on you, and your nerdy friends.” Lucas flips you off while Mike makes a disgusted face.

“I wouldn’t ask for anything ever again-”

“You said that about the last few favors, get me food, don’t tell mom about the cat-”

“I’ll tell Steve you said his hair is fancy.” You stood and have a stare off with Dustin. You want to tackle him and kill him.

“A hour- not two, not three. One hour.”

[intheticklecloset]

Nym Is Doing TickleTober 2024!

The time has quickly reached us once again for TickleTober! Last year I did it all on my own because that's what I was feeling, but this time I want to do a combination of that and including you guys, so here's how it's going to work!

There will be 15 prompts up for grabs! I'm sure you all know the drill - pick a number and a character or pairing to submit as an entry. I will be choosing the prompt that most interests me to do, so it is NOT first come, first served. Please double-check my fandom list before submitting! (I've updated it recently with a new "Temporary Fandoms" section, too!) If I receive an entry that falls within my restrictions I will discard it immediately.

I'll be accepting prompts until all are filled, or NO LATER than September 15 at 5 PM PST, whichever comes first!

The prompt list below is in NO PARTICULAR ORDER! These are not specific days you're choosing; just the prompt. I want to have SOME element of trick or treat, after all! 🎃

Fall leaves

Caramel apple

Moon

Pumpkins

Shiver

Black cat

Boo!

Haunted house

Skeleton

Decorations/costumes

Scary movie

Ghost/graveyard

Scream

Shadows

Halloween party

I look forward to seeing what you all submit! Good luck~ 🎃

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

Hi Kat I hope you are doing good

May I request prompt no 10 from the smut dialogue for Levi?

dkjfksdjfk i'm doing great! i'm dedicating tonight to writing nothing but smut and i'm dkjfksdjf

send me some smut dialogue prompts (✿◡‿◡)

10. “Spread your legs wider.”

you buried your face into his shoulder as you felt him stretch you out by sticking a second finger into your heat, embarrassed from the lewd sounds he was drawing out of you that you couldn't seem to stifle no matter how hard you tried.

the pad of this thumb was rubbing against your clit as you felt (and heard) his fingers pump in and out of you. the pace he was going at was driving you nuts—enough for you to feel the euphoria coursing through your veins, but not so much that you were cumming on the spot.

"levi...please," you whimpered into his ear as you felt his fingers press up into your sweet spot again. your body was shaking under him and when you finally made eye contact with him, you saw the dark, lustful, and somewhat mischievous look in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine

"tch. can't help but be an impatient little shit, can you?" he'd mutter as he pulled his fingers out of you, pushing you off his lap and laying you down gently onto the bed.

you whined as you felt him gently press his lips against your throbbing pussy, already feeling overstimulated from his fingers earlier.

"spread your legs wider for me," he commanded.

you barely got to react. as soon as your legs opened up, you shuddered as you felt him drag his tongue up your slit before swirling around your clit, with his fingers digging into your inner thigh to keep your legs open.

he seemed to notice your reaction, going to immediately repeat the act, pausing to press his tongue into your heat, feeling himself getting painfully hard as he heard the small whimpers coming out of you as he tongue fucked you.

you were more than close to finishing by the time his tongue was replaced with his fingers and his lips closed around your clit, sucking and gently biting at the bud.

"cum for me, love," you heard him whisper, the feeling of his breath and voice against your heat causing the muscles in your abs, legs, and core to clench up to the point that it was almost painful as you finally gushed all over him.

[tinyshyteacup]

[anzynai]

300 Follower Event!

hello everyone! thank you for 300 followers! it means a lot to me knowing that so many people enjoy my content so id like to thank you all with a little drabble event teehee ill explain it down below

you will be able to request any of my fandoms!

with genshin impact, i will write for any character with the exclusion of: chiori, xianyun, chevreuse, baizhu, and more if neccessary. (i JUST got caught up and i dont know much about the new characters uninvolved in the archon quest)

i will write a 300 word drabble with the scenario you requested. (do not just give me two characters. please give me something to work with!)

you can specify if you would like tickling or no tickling. considering this is a tk blog, if not otherwise specified, it will be a tk fic.

platonic and romantic pairings are welcome! you may also request an x reader if that suits u!

what u request is very flexible. as long as it isnt very… eccentric/weird, nsfw, or could be deemed inappropriate, anything goes:) it is still recommended that you take a look at my requesting rules, for a more detailed list.

you are also not limited to one request.

i think that wraps it up. if you have any questions, please dont hesitate to ask! and again, thank you for 300 followers!

[thehauntedair]

Zachary Ezra Rawlins sits on the steps of the New York public library, settled comfortably between Patience and Fortitude. In his lap he holds two bouquets of flowers.

The first is a dozen red roses- one for each year, plus or minus a few.

The second is a dozen stories, folded into flowers, lovingly and carefully chosen specifically for the joy they would bring their recipient upon the long-awaited unfolding.

It is 12:59, and he is getting rather impatient, though he knows his date will arrive right on schedule, as always.

Then: 1am.

Zachary looks up.

Dorian is here.

[wooyoungmybelovedhusband]

ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

M = Mature | A = Angst | F = Fluff

WOOSAN - PROMPT #2 & #12 [M]

WOOYOUNG - PROMPT #3, #4 & #13 [M]

WOOSANHWA - PROMPT #6 [M]

MINGYU - PROMPT #3 & #11 [M]

[aayakashii]

❤3 and ❤42 with Yuri please, I need something fluffy with him right now

3❤️ a kiss on the forehead

42❤️ a clumsy kiss

Warning: this is not a drabble at all but I can't shut up so here take this fic 🫳 also not very proofread YET so I apologize if it's a bit wonky

One thing about Mortkranken’s underground: it’s cold. It makes sense, though. There were tons of biological samples being analyzed by students every single day, so it’s not like it could have a warm and comfortable temperature.

Still, you weren’t expecting it to be so cold.

It was kind of ironic, knowing how Yuri hated the other extremely cold dorm of Darkwick. But while Frostheim was freezing because of its natural weather (or as natural as a place created by an anomalous island could be), Mortkranken had all the air conditioners and freezers to create that artificial bubble of icy and dry climate.

Yuri’s personal office wasn’t exempt from the cold. Despite how spacious it was, the air still hung heavy while a split system blasted glacial wind mercilessly.

You trembled slightly as you went through paper after paper, doing inventory of all of Yuri’s books. Despite being a genius, apparently he couldn’t organize all the dozens of bookshelves he kept carelessly stacked with medical tomes, articles and notes.

Sometimes you wondered if he would just carry on, working in a terribly messy office, if you had never come around and offered your help - which he begrudgingly accepted.

However, it’s not like you were doing that entirely out of the good of your heart. You liked spending time with Yuri, despite how snappy he was, yes. You saw how lonely and starved of appreciation he was and it tugged on your heartstrings. Probably no one ever tried to go past that wall of arrogance he had built for himself as a protection, and you were set on trying to give him a little bit of comfort.

Maybe you also thought that the way his hair fell on his face was very pretty, that his sea-green eyes were gorgeous, and that everytime he blushed you wanted to grab his shoulders and pull him into a kiss so you could watch him have a meltdown and turn into putty in your hands. Yes. Maybe. But that’s not why you were there.

You were there because Frostheim was throwing one of their fancy balls that night and you desperately wanted to escape. You were invited, or better yet, subpoenaed by Jin and Tohma and you wanted nothing to do with it. You already had to deal with a tragic curse, thank you very much. Mingling with stuck up rich students was the last thing you wanted to do.

So, mentally apologizing to Kaito and Luca, you lied through your teeth and said you already had a job to do. At that point, you didn’t; but you found yourself in Yuri’s office, annotating his every dusty book just in case they sent someone to grab you by the hair and drag you to the ball. They wouldn’t try to come close to Mortkranken, after all - too much drama between the captains.

And work you did. Being around a cute doctor was just a bonus.

Yuri scrolled through his phone mindlessly for a few minutes, allowing himself to rest his brain after another day of working until his eyes were crossing. He wasn’t much of a social media guy, but he understood quite well the importance of taking breaks every so often in order to have his thoughts reorganize themselves. Even if he went around and then spent three days wide awake just to compensate for a 15 minute break.

It’s not like he was actually relaxing, however. He was very much aware of your presence in his office, just a few steps away from him, as you organized his books. You had offered yourself to catalog his tomes and clean them up out of nowhere and, despite his hesitance, deep down he was grateful for that. After all, an organized workplace works wonders for inspiration and concentration - he was just… very bad at doing the organization thing when it wasn’t directly related to his duties as a doctor.

He also wasn’t quite sure why you had suddenly offered to spend the evening working, but he just decided to chalk it up to you being grateful for his brilliance and infinite generosity. He DID offer to train you in anomalous medicine, didn’t he? Maybe you were just wise and trying to repay his kindness.

He huffed, a smug smile on his face, clearly satisfied with his own answer, but quickly turned his attention back to his phone after noticing you heard him and looked his way.

After scrolling mindlessly through posts about scientific innovations, articles, new hospitals and a bunch of ads for questionable medicines that claim to cure people of everything and anything at all, Yuri stopped at a photo of a familiar place.

It had been posted only 10 minutes before and showed a grand ballroom, filled with young people in fancy garments and expensive flower bouquets placed in tall vases that decorated every corner. Some people appeared to be dancing, while others chatted with a drink in their hand.

It was a familiar place because he had been in this exact same setting before – it was Frostheim and apparently they were throwing a ball at that very moment.

Yuri's lips curled down in disgust at the sight of the dorm.

“These mindless pricks just can't spend a single day without flaunting their wealth, can they?” Yuri grumbled audibly, scowling at his phone.

“Did you say something, Yuri?” you asked, turning to face him while you meticulously noted down another batch of book titles in your handbook.

“These wannabe nobles from Frostheim!” he spat “They can't do a single useful thing for society, but still try to intimidate others by showing off how rich they are! Disgusting!” Yuri slammed his phone on the desk, getting up from his seat, and pranced around the large room, as if he could not contain his anger quietly.

He didn't quite understand the reasoning behind his own anger. All he knew was that he felt enraged, an ironically icy feeling crawling up his chest. And that he needed a Frostheim student in front of him right at that moment so he could punch them. Too bad he was so physically weak.

“Oh, are you talking about the ball they're throwing today?” you asked, nonchalantly.

Yuri stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around towards you, an expression of disgust and betrayal on his face.

How would you even know about this ball? Frostheim prided in excluding everyone else that didn't wear that godawful blue lapel pin from every social event. So how would you, a puny little student with no association to any dorm at all, know about a big event such as that ball?

Yuri chose to blatantly ignore your friendships with Luca and Kaito for the benefit of his own theory.

You swallowed hard, realizing by his behavior that you probably should not have said that at all.

“How do you know about that ball?!” he said, through gritted teeth.

You cleared your throat.

“Um… I heard Luca and Kaito mention it earlier today…”

Yuri slowly walked towards you, as if he was a predator gauging your movements in order to know when to attack.

“Lies. I see how you are blinking fast. You also have flared nostrils and you are unconsciously biting your lips! Body language 101! You cannot fool a doctor like me, I see everything!”

You sighed.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. I was invited.” you mumbled, grabbing a tome and wiping the dust from its cover, avoiding Yuri's accusatory gaze.

His jaw went slack. His theory was correct then, after all! But of course it was. He was Yuri Isami, the captain of Mortkranken and the best doctor on that campus. Of course he was correct.

And so you were indeed a filthy traitor.

“Oh, so you're so connected to that despicable dorm that you were even INVITED to their ball?!” How dare you, he wanted to say, how dare you give them the time of the day when HE– when Mortkranken was the one doing all the important work in that place.

You raised an eyebrow at Yuri's dramatics, side-eyeing him while you still dusted books.

“Darkwick made me the inspector, remember? I have to have proper relationships with every single dorm and it's not like I want that either. It's all because of my curse.”

Yuri scoffed, throwing his arms up in disbelief.

“As if you need anything else besides Mortkranken's assistance! We are the only ones who are qualified to undo your curse once and for all! And yet, you still mingle with those Frostheimers…” he clenched his fists.

“Yuri, I think you're forgetting the fact that I chose not to go to the ball and spend my night here organizing your books.” you wiggled a book on your hand to make your point clearer, fully turning towards him.

That little detail seemed to have finally been processed in Yuri's mind right after you said it.

He went silent, staring at you with narrowed eyes. As if he didn't trust you yet. As if you could stab him in the back as soon as he turned around.

You sighed, putting the book on the shelf and then resting your hands on your hips.

“Why are you so angry at them for throwing a ball? You know they always do that.”

He didn't know why he was angry, actually. It was like Frostheim was a trigger word for him. He heard it and fury just freely ran through his veins like molten iron. It burned and hurt because he didn't know why it felt like that.

He just did.

It wasn't in Yuri's nature to be quiet. To be speechless. And when he didn't answer your question, you knew something deep, deeper than you could reach, had been brewing for too long.

He stood still like a statue, mouth pressed in a thin line as he turned your question around in his mind, like he would an unsolved rubrik cube. Only this time, he wasn't able to finish it in record time like he used to finish all of his real cubes.

You took a deep breath.

“Look.” you snapped him out of his daze “I'm gonna prove to you that balls are boring and that you aren't missing anything.”

You knew he wasn't upset because of FOMO, but seeing him struggle with his thoughts like that made you pity him just a little bit. So you would pretend, for now.

You went to his desk and grabbed your phone, scrolling through something.

“What are you planning to do?” he observed your movements, still as tense as ever.

“What's your favorite song again? It's The Blue Danube Waltz, by Strauss isn't it?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes… I'm surprised a worm like you knows classical music and– no, what does this have to do with anything?” he asked, baffled at the sudden change of topic.

You walked towards him, gaze locked at your phone.

“You like waltzes then. Okay, then this one will have to do.”

You clicked on something on your phone and placed it carefully on one of the bookrack's shelves. Soon enough, some music started playing on the phone's speakers.

Yuri stared dumbly at the hand you were holding out towards him.

“What is this?”

“It's the Masquerade Waltz, by Aram Khachaturian.” You replied flatly, shoving your hand closer to his face.

“I- I know that!” Yuri sputtered, defensively “I want to know what you're doing!”

You shrugged, smirking at your own silly idea that seemed to have badly thrown him off “I want to prove to you how balls are kinda stupid when you can very well just waltz as much as you want at home. Come on. Dance with me?”

Yuri blinked, still staring at your hand.

“W-why should I?!”

“Well… you'll have the satisfaction of doing something Jin wanted to do but can't because I'm here.”

He immediately grabbed your hand, all hesitation left behind. You laughed and restarted the song.

“You better dance properly, worm!”

“I promise nothing.”

Yuri's hands were hot. He had them stuffed in his black gloves like always, but they seemed even warmer against your skin as you held him firmly.

He knew very well all of the waltz etiquette, of course. He was a cultured, refined man who knew how to be a proper partner when dancing with someone in a ballroom. He knew he was supposed to maintain eye contact with his dance partner.

But goddamn it, was it hard to keep looking into your eyes. Even though you weren't always looking at him – as expected of an impolite worm – whenever your eyes met, he felt his insides stir and he wondered in passing if he had to start taking some type of anxiety medication.

Sometimes he'd relax for a second when you looked down at your feet to count 1, 2 ,3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4. He used that moment to breathe deeply and then grimace at how shaky his exhale sounded.

His heart drummed inside his ribcage, and he hoped you'd keep your little grubby fingers far away from his radial artery, otherwise you'd feel how fast his heart was beating. He couldn't have you thinking he was nervous. He wasn't nervous! The situation was just… unexpected.

And then you started humming along with the song.

Yuri swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and cleared his throat.

“You… you like this waltz?” he managed to say. He shoved the thought that you sounded cute, humming a song just like he always did, deep, deep inside the corners of his mind.

You widened your eyes for a second.

“Oh! I was humming, wasn't I? Sorry. But yeah, it's my favorite. I guess I can't say I don't understand you when you hum too” you laughed nervously.

The both of you kept on clumsily stepping side to side, front to back, as the song reached its last notes.

Yuri knew the song was ending, and his anxiety peaked. It was like he wanted something to happen – no, like he needed to do something, but he didn't know what it was.

His stomach churned as the song faded out, and your feet came to a halt. Your hand left his own, and so did the one on his shoulder. He could feel the warmth of your body leaving him as he forced himself to step back.

You cleared your throat and gave him an exaggerated curtsy, lifting the hem of an imaginary dress.

“Thank you so much for this dance, Lord Isami” you said with a grin, in a fake posh accent.

And after that, it was like he became possessed by some trickster spirit who had it out for him.

Yuri didn't really know what thought process led him to suddenly grab your shoulders and awkwardly place his lips on your forehead, but when you gasped under him, he finally came back to his senses.

“GAH! I don't know why I did that!” he yelled, taking a few long steps back and away from you.

He stared at his own hands, like they were monsters with a life of their own. Some cruel, awful things that made him act on an impulse he didn't even know he had.

His thoughts ran wild and tumbled one over the other, each and every one yelling some reasoning for his stupid actions and turning his mind into a deafening cacophony that made his head fuzzy and his ears ring.

“Um...” you voiced out, and Yuri finally looked at you again, quickly halting his spiral towards a panic attack. His eyes fluttered, taking in the sight in front of him.

You covered your cheeks with your hands, looking to the side as you pressed your lips in a thin line. Yuri swore he could see the ghost of a smile on the corner of your lips, gone in the blink of an eye.

Yuri was screwed. That immediately became the only thought that blared inside his brain after looking at you, all flustered and embarrassed.

“I'm screwed” he murmured unconsciously and you had the gall to chuckle.

“Sorry?” you asked, a smile warming your voice in a way that made Yuri dizzy.

He shook his head, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes, and took a deep breath.

“You can go to your quarters now. Continue your work here later.” he announced, secretly celebrating how his voice sounded stable again.

You slowly grabbed your phone, still smiling like you knew something he didn't. Preposterous.

“Okay.” you replied, without much protest.

Yuri watched as you picked up the rest of your belongings and made the way towards his door.

“I hope I convinced you of all that stuff we talked about, by the way. See you tomorrow, Yuri” you said, looking over your shoulder before you left.

Yuri had absolutely no idea of what you were even talking about. All he knew was that his room was hot. He felt incredibly hot and his heart still hammered mercilessly inside his ribs. Was he having a heat stroke? Yeah, maybe it was that. Maybe he was having a heat stroke because you made him dance and sweat when he didn't need to.

He looked at the thermometer under his AC.

It read 5°C/40°F.

[118dailydrabble]

Welcome to 118 Daily Drabble

118 Prompts; 118 Words; 100 Days

Starting TOMORROW, November 27th, around 1:00pm EST, a one word prompt will be posted to this blog for 100 consecutive days with the final prompt posting on March 6th, 2025 (8B premiere day.)

Anyone who wants to can use the word to write a 9-1-1 drabble that equals exactly 118 words. This is a real drabble challenge.

General Rules:

Drabbles must be 118 words exactly. (Since different word counters sometimes give different results, we are using AO3 as a standard.)

The word of the day must be included in your drabble. However, the words themselves do not need to be exact. For example, if the word is zip, it could be used as zip, zipping, zipper, zipped, and unzip. The words may also have double meanings and can be used either way. For example, complex can mean both difficult or can mean a group of similar buildings. Both would be accepted.

There are 18 words that can be used as replacement words throughout. If the word of the day isn't inspiring you, you can use one of the 18 replacement words instead.

If you aren’t a writer or are inspired to create something for a prompt that isn’t writing, please feel free! As long as the creation incorporates the prompt, it is allowed. (Other creations could be art, poetry, podfic, etc.) 

Content Rules: 

Drabbles must use characters from 9-1-1 on ABC. (You can write for 911LS if you’d like, but only drabbles from 9-1-1 on ABC will be reblogged and/or accepted as part of the collection.)

There are no content restrictions. As long as your fic is tagged appropriately, you can write whatever you want. (This includes ratings, warnings, ships, etc. We are not here to police writing, only to encourage it.) 

Crossovers and original characters are accepted as long as the main focus is on 9-1-1 on ABC.

Drabbles can be posted to the 118 Daily Drabble AO3 Collection here or using the tag #118dailydrabble.

FAQ:

Do the drabbles have to be 118 words? 

Yes! That’s the fun and challenge of the event. (To be honest, I will not be checking every single word count for the drabbles… but I trust everyone not to lie to me. Please don’t lie to me, I’m fragile.) 

Do I have to write every single day if I choose to participate?

Absolutely not! You can choose to write as little as 1 prompt or all 118, that’s totally up to you! 

Do I have to post my drabbles on AO3? 

Nope! There will be a collection for them, but you can also just post to Tumblr/X/Bluesky/Internet-Place if you prefer. This event will only have a Tumblr in terms of reblogging content but feel free to use the tag #118dailydrabble on other platforms.

Can I make a chaptered fic on AO3 for this event?

Absolutely. If you choose to do a chaptered fic, each drabble must be its own chapter, though.

Are you going to post the words at the same time everyday?

Yes! Barring any Tumblr errors, the word will be posted to this blog everyday at 1:00pm.

Where can I find past words?

You can find them here!

What are the extra 18 words?

1. Dosed 2. Broken 3. Rage 4. Malfunction 5. Fallout 6. Fools 7. Powerless 8. Jinx 9. Survivors 10. Panic 11. Cursed 12. Recovery 13. Capsized 14. Buzzkill 15. Masks 16. Confessions 17. Hotshots 18. Wannabes

Have more questions? Feel free to send an ask here!

[stillpanicking]

41 followers!!!! Yesterday I made it to 30, but now 41???? Thank you everyone!!!!

If anyone is interested in a drabble, my ask box is open. I'll do up to 5 of them!

If you want to know what Fandoms I write for, ask! Or should I do a list?

[all-with-angel]

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : My type

...by VOILA

❥ Nanami Kento x ex emo!Reader

Or how Nanami Kento knew you were really his type.

Made for Angels Birthday Event!

"I didn't know you were emo." You hummed, a poorly hidden smile covered by a mug of coffee. Leaning against the kitchen counter, you carefully watch as your husband freezes mid-stride, almost flinching, before continuing his way to the coffee pot.

"Emo? I don't know what you mean." Came his unnervingly calm reply, but there was a shake to his voice. Just barely there. The way his voice pitched up just a few notes too high for a thursday morning.

You shrugged casually, setting your mug down. But there was a smile in your voice, Nanami could feel it even with his back turned. “I found a photo album while cleaning out your office."

Nanami Kento never had his heart fall out of his ass any faster. "You were so cute as a freshman~" You twisted the pretty little knife so kindly stabbed into his back.

A soft, tired groan escaped him as he covered his face with one hand. “God.”

“Oh, come on,” you laughed. “It was adorable! You had the full look! It was adorable!"

“I didn’t know what I was doing,” he muttered from behind his hand.

"Clearly, but its cute!" You giggle into his shoulder, wrapping your arms as best you could around his waist. "What were you listening to? Evanescence? My chemical romance? Some other obscure band or -"

"Please." Nanami sighed, dejected as his shoulders slump.

"I'm just asking!"

If I say no, will you stop?”

“No.”

Nanami lets out another tired groan, he needed more coffee already. Remembering all those pictures - oh, shivers crawled up his spine at the memory. Which didn't go unnoticed by you.

"If it helps," You lean your head on his shoulder, looking up at him as best you could at this uncomfortable angle. "You'd totally be my type."

"Oh shush," Nanami shoved you off of him, cup of coffee in his other hand as he leaves you in the kitchen, laughing from the bottom of your heart.

A few days, maybe even weeks later, you made sure Nanami never lived it down. Still, it got a little better as time passed by, you mentioned it less - that was a win he would take.

While also cleaning out the bedroom, he had come across your own photobook. His eyes originally glanced over it, having to do a double take when he realized he had never really seen any picture of you when you were younger.

Calloused hands trace the cover of the book, carefully peeling it open.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, a twitch of a smile tugging at his lips.

There you were - in full middle school emo regalia. He flipped page after page, smile growing wider with every picture with you with sideswept hair, every dark hoodie and every line of thick eyeliner.

When you had gotten home that evening, you didn't live anything down, either.

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

@sixpennydame submitted:

Hi Kat! For the smut ask, 16 with Levi? 😏

~~~~~

really wanting to be ate out by levi ackerman dkfjksdjfksjf

send me some smut dialogue prompts (✿◡‿◡)

16. “You taste so good.”

you grinned to yourself as you felt his lips press up against you. he smelled of fresh linen and his body wash, which had an earthy scent to it. you bit down onto levi's lip as you felt him deepen the kiss, right before crawling on top of you.

you gasped as you felt him trail kisses down your jawline to your neck, taking a quick nip at the sensitive flesh before beginning to travel further down to your collarbone down to your stomach, his palm gently squeezing at your breast on the way.

he looked up at you with sultry eyes as he looped his fingers around your panties, gently tugging them off. you raised your butt slightly off the bed so that they slid off easily, heat rising to your face as you saw him travel back up and plant a gentle kiss onto your cunt.

a gasp escaped your lips as you felt his tongue circling your clit before stretching out to lap at your folds. you felt your pussy throb as your arousal began to seep out of you. levi dragged his tongue up your slit, and you bit down on your bottom lip to try to stifle the sounds he was threatening to draw out of you.

"fuck, you taste so good, _____," he mumbled, his breath tickling your sensitive heat.

you ran your fingers through his hair, gently tugging at his raven locks as you bucked your hips towards him. his hands firmly held you down at the hips, doing a *tsk* of disapproval at your eagerness.

"patience, love," he scolded, his fingers gently gliding over your inner thigh. his thumb gently pressed down on your clit before traveling in small circles around the sensitive bundle of flesh.

you failed to suppress your moan entirely when you felt his tongue on you again, except this time he was eating up your arousal as if he was starved. his thumb sped up around your clit as he felt you squirming around him, slightly growling at the feeling of you tugging at his hair.

you looked down at him with dilated pupils and felt your entire lower torso begin to clench up upon seeing the dark and sultry look in his eyes.

he continued tongue-fucking you long past the point of you gushing over his tongue, sending you into a mix of euphoria and overstimulation that threw your ability to move, see, or think completely out the window.

[sunsburns]

no. 1 party anthem — clark kent (superman) ! ᢉ𐭩

⟢ synopsis. what was supposed to be a night for work takes an unexpected turn when you run into clark kent—alone at a restaurant, waiting for a date who seems to have no intention of showing up. poor guy.

⟢ contains. clark kent x reader, ots and lots of fluff! it is one of the more romantic things i have written, cute blind date, characters are dumb, set up date, lois is a mastermind, i do not know anything about journalism, pinning from both sides but too shy to do anything about it.

⟢ word count. 5.8k+

⟢ author’s note. i can’t get this man outta my head pls help me 😣 the voices!!! also feel free to imagine this as any clark (and i mean any i swear: comic book, adventures with superman, tom welling, david corenswet, henry cavill, or even reeve)

“Hey, you’re gonna hate me but I’m gonna be like 10 minutes late. You go ahead and check in and order. The table should be under my name. I’ll pay the bill. I’m so sorry!”

You weren’t exactly surprised when the message lit up your phone screen. You rolled your eyes, exhaling through your nose. If there was one thing you knew about Lois Lane, it was that urgency wasn’t always her strong suit—unless it involved an exclusive scoop or a headline-worthy disaster with Superman. Still, considering this was supposed to be a work-related meeting, you had half-expected her to arrive early, not leave you waiting.

You typed out a quick reply, telling her it was fine when it really wasn’t, telling her to take her time when you wished she wouldn’t. Then, slipping your phone back into your bag, you made your way toward the hostess stand.

“Table under the name Lane?” you asked, offering a polite smile.

The hostess nodded, flashing you a warm smile in return. “Right this way.”

As she led you through the restaurant, you took in your surroundings with subtle curiosity. The place was charming—exactly the kind of cozy, floral-accented spot Lois would dig up for an ‘informal work chat.’ The kind of place that felt like it had stories tucked between its soft candlelit tables and ivy-draped walls.

You tried to dress the part, too—professional but approachable. You weren’t here for a casual dinner, after all. This meeting was supposed to be a quick sit-down with a lawyer Lois had arranged, someone who could confirm a few key details for a piece you were both working on. A case involving a corporation and some shady legal maneuvering—Lois had the sources, but you were the one handling the research. You’d spent the past week buried in legal jargon, piecing together statements and contracts, and now you just needed a professional to verify what you suspected before the article could go to print.

By the time you reached your table, you were already running through the questions in your head, mentally preparing for the conversation. The restaurant wasn’t grand, but it was stunning in its own way. You admired the decor, taking in the quiet hum of conversation and the delicate clink of silverware.

At least if Lois was late, you had time to go over your notes one more time.

You ran your hands over your portfolio, smoothing the cover absentmindedly as you flipped through the pages. The neatly typed notes stared back at you, but none of the words really registered. All you could do was wait—for the lawyer, for Lois, for some sign that this wasn’t going to be a complete waste of time.

With a sigh, you reached for the glass of wine you ordered a few minutes ago, taking a slow sip before setting it back down. You had to pace yourself, or you’d drain the whole thing before anyone even showed up. You checked your phone, hoping for an update, but the screen remained frustratingly blank.

Disappointed, you rested your chin on your hand, eyes drifting across the restaurant. The warm glow of golden light reflected off polished wood and delicate floral centrepieces, the soft murmur of conversation blending with the occasional clink of silverware. Your waiter had already stopped by twice, politely offering more appetizers while you tried not to look as painfully alone as you felt. If they came by again, you weren’t sure if you’d accept out of politeness or embarrassment.

And then, just as you took another sip of wine, a familiar figure walked through the entrance.

Clark Kent.

You blinked, watching as the hostess led him inside, guiding him through the rows of neatly arranged tables. Even from where you sat, you recognized the way he carried himself—like he was constantly trying to shrink his presence, shoulders slightly hunched, movements careful and deliberate. It was ironic, really, considering how much space he naturally took up. Clark was tall, broad-shouldered, and impossible to miss, yet he carried himself like he didn’t want to be noticed.

You knew him, but not really.

Not as much as you want to.

You were office acquaintances at best—two reporters who shared the same workplace, desks across from each other, but rarely the same conversations. There had been moments, though. Fleeting ones. Catching his lingering glances during late nights at the Daily Planet, both of you working in near silence, save for the tapping of keyboards. A handful of polite exchanges over the coffee machine, his voice always gentle, soft-spoken. And then, of course, there were the times someone would call out "Hey, Smallville!" across the office, earning a sheepish smile from Clark as he adjusted his glasses and ducked his head.

He looked nice tonight. Not too different from his usual work attire, but more relaxed. A crisp button-up, sleeves pushed up just enough to reveal a strong line of his forearms, dress pants fitted just right. He had forgone the tie, leaving the top button undone. Simple, but put-together. Effortless in a way that shouldn’t have been so charming, but somehow was.

And then you realized the hostess was leading him closer.

You quickly dropped your gaze, staring into your half-empty wine glass like it suddenly held the secrets of the universe. The last thing you wanted was to be caught staring, especially while sitting alone, nursing a drink, and very clearly sulking.

Maybe, just maybe, if you looked busy enough, you could avoid drawing any attention at all.

And for a moment, it worked.

You picked up your phone again, checking the time for what had to be the hundredth time that night. With a little too much urgency, you started to type out a message to Lois—something casual, something that wouldn’t sound desperate, something that would make it seem like you weren’t upset about currently sitting alone in a nice restaurant, swirling the last remnants of your wine waiting for her to get there. You were so focused on forming the perfect text that you almost missed it—

Your name.

Spoken softly, but clear. Familiar.

Your fingers hesitated over the keyboard. The voice had a weight to it, warm and steady, like someone genuinely surprised but pleased to see you. You swallowed and glanced up, feigning a search for the source before your gaze finally landed on Clark.

He wasn’t seated directly beside you but rather at the table across, angled just enough that you had to turn your head slightly to meet his eye. His lips curled into a sheepish smile, glasses slipping just a little down the bridge of his nose before he quickly pushed them back up again.

“Hi.”

That was all. Just hi. Simple, unassuming, but it made something settle in your chest, something you hadn’t even realized was tense.

You couldn’t bite back the smile forming on your own lips. “Hi, Clark.”

“Hey.”

A kind man with few words.

Though you’d heard him talk endlessly before, especially with Lois—deep in discussion, debating headlines, getting lost in conversations about ethics and reporting. But with you, it was always something short and sweet. A few words here and there. And yet, even the simplest conversations had a way of lingering. Would it be silly to admit that your brief, slightly awkward chats with Clark kind of made your day? Even when it was just him asking to borrow an extra pen?

God, you felt like a teenager again, having a crush on a classmate.

You watched as he rubbed at his cheek, the scruff there catching the soft glow of the restaurant lighting. His pointer finger rested idly at the seam of his lips, and you forced yourself to focus—not to stare at his mouth, not to let your gaze linger anywhere it shouldn’t.

He was your coworker, for fuck’s sake.

A really pretty one.

A really kind, really good-looking coworker.

You exhaled lightly, pressing your fingertips against the stem of your glass as if that might ground you. “It’s nice to see you.” The words came out before you could stop them, but they were true. It was nice.

It was almost like he perked up at that, his posture straightening just a little. “Yeah, great to see you too. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I... I could say the same.” Your cheeks were starting to hurt from how much you were smiling. You tried to temper it, but it was hard when Clark Kent was looking at you like that—all honey-eyed.

“Are you here for work?” he asked, casting a pointed look at the portfolio by your hands, stacked neatly beside your drink.

You glanced down at it as if you had momentarily forgotten it was there. “Um, yeah. I’m meeting with a source, so... they should be here any minute.”

Clark’s brows lifted slightly. “It’s your story on LexCorp, right?”

Your fingers, which had been absently tracing the condensation on your glass, paused. “Yeah, it is actually.” You blinked at him, a little surprised. “How’d you know?”

His smile was almost bashful, his hand brushing the back of his neck in that way he always did when he was being modest. “Oh, I just remember you mentioning it a few days ago. It’s a great story.”

Something in your chest tightened—not in a bad way, just in a way that made you feel warm all over. You hadn’t expected him to remember, let alone bring it up. The conversation you’d had at work had been so brief, just an offhand remark about how you were stepping outside your usual comfort zone. No one else had really asked you about it since.

“You think?” You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “I thought it was kind of a stretch. I mean, like—a stretch from what I usually write, you know? I don’t really deal with politics and corporate stuff and all that.”

Clark shook his head, that gentle, reassuring look in his eyes making it impossible not to believe him. “I’m sure it’ll be great. You’re an amazing writer.”

You were smiling even wider now. Compliments weren’t uncommon at the Daily Planet—people gave each other nods of approval, a “good job” here and there. But Clark said it like he meant it, like he had read your work, thought about it, believed in it.

It reminded you of the time he had quietly left a sticky note on your desk after an article of yours had been rushed to print. Really great work on this one! -CK. You’d found it hours later, after everyone had gone home. It had been such a small thing, but you’d kept the note tucked inside your notebook anyway.

You felt your cheeks warm. “Thanks, Clark. I think you’re a great writer too.”

He ducked his head slightly, smiling. “Thank you.”

There was a beat of silence, not awkward, just something familiar to the pauses between you two at the office. Expect this time you didn’t have any work to distract yourself with. You hesitated before finally breaking it.

“If you don’t mind me asking… what’re you doing here?”

“I, uh… I have a date, actually.”

“Oh.”

It wasn’t a big deal. It shouldn’t have been a big deal. But for some reason, you felt your stomach drop slightly, and you almost wanted to smack yourself in the head for not catching on sooner. Of course, he was here on a date, looking like that—all charming and shy.

He even smelled good, like fresh linen and something warm, something undeniably Clark.

“I know how it looks,” he started, and you noticed the way his shoulders began to hunch in on themselves like he was trying to make himself smaller. “Feels strange. I don’t think I’ve been dating since college.”

You let out a breath of amusement, nodding slowly. “Wow. Uh—good for you, though. I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah, I mean…” He hesitated, then glanced up at you, a little sheepish. “Can I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing. It’s a blind date, so I have no idea what this person looks like or who they are.”

You blinked. “You don’t know anything?”

“They’re a friend of Lois.” He exhaled lightly, shaking his head. “But that’s as much as I got.”

“Oh.” Your lips parted, then closed. “I’m sure you’ll do fine, Clark.” You shot him a small, hopefully reassuring smile. “I’ll be here for moral support.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “You’ve got your thing to worry about.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t help a friend out too.”

The words left your mouth before you had a chance to really think about them. Friend. You wondered if you could even call yourselves that. You were more acquaintances if anything—a friend of a friend. But Clark always did little favours for you, and he was always kind to you.

Like the time he had grabbed you a coffee when you’d been stuck in a seemingly endless editorial meeting, dropping it off at your desk without a word. Just a small smile, a quiet “figured you could use one.”

Or the time he’d helped you carry an entire box of research binders up three flights of stairs because the elevator was down. He had done it without hesitation, without you even asking, took it from your hands like it was weightless.

Then there was the time he had lent you his jacket when an assignment had left you stranded in the rain. It had been late, the Daily Planet nearly empty, and you had been standing by the windows, arms wrapped around yourself, shivering slightly as you tried to figure out how to make it home without getting completely drenched. Clark had passed by, paused, then shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders before you could protest. “Just give it back tomorrow,” he’d said.

But it wasn’t just him.

You had done things for him too.

The time you had stayed late to help him rework an article after an editor had torn through it with a red pen, sitting beside him as the newsroom emptied, tossing ideas back and forth until it finally felt right. He had looked at you then, something warm in his eyes, and said, “I owe you one.”

Or the time he had misplaced his glasses—how he had checked every possible spot, growing more and more flustered, only for you to walk over and pluck them from where they had been resting atop his head. You had laughed, shaking your head as you handed them back. He had gone pink in the ears, mumbling something about being forgetful, but the way he had smiled after made you think he didn’t mind the teasing.

Then there was the time you had covered for him when he had mysteriously disappeared right before a meeting. Lois had been looking for him, impatient and muttering about how he always seemed to vanish at the worst times. You had lied—just a small one. Said he had mentioned stepping out for a quick errand, and that he’d be back soon. You weren’t sure why you had done it.

Helping him out never hurt. So it shouldn’t hurt one more time.

Well, maybe it would. Just a little bit.

It might hurt your pride, mostly.

“Besides,” you continued, “I’ve been here for almost twenty minutes and no one’s showed up.”

“That’s... odd.”

“I know,” you muttered, glancing at your phone again, the screen glowing with no new notifications. You hesitated, thumb hovering over your messages before sighing and picking it up. “Can you excuse me for a second?”

“Of course,” Clark said, ever patient, though his brows knit together slightly in concern.

You slid out of your seat, weaving through the dimly lit restaurant. The warm hum of conversation filled the air, glasses clinking, silverware scraping against plates. A jazz melody played softly from the speakers, almost drowned out by the occasional burst of laughter from a nearby table. You stepped toward the front, near the entrance, where it was quieter, and pressed the phone to your ear.

Lois hadn’t answered your last two—three?—messages. You tried calling her once. The line rang and rang, then went to voicemail. You exhaled sharply and called again, tapping your fingers against the wooden counter near the hostess stand.

On the last ring, she finally picked up.

"Hello-?"

“Where are you?” You didn’t bother hiding the frustration in your voice, pacing a little near the door.

"I'm... on my way, I swear."

“You said that almost half an hour ago, Lois.”

"I know, I know—I’m sorry. I was just about to call—"

You pinched the bridge of your nose, inhaling through your teeth. “And the lawyer, do you know when they’ll get here?”

A pause.

"I… I don’t know."

Your stomach dropped. “You don’t know?”

"No… now that I think about it… I don’t think I confirmed a time."

“Lois,” you breathed, dragging a hand down your face.

"I’m sorry. Maybe we should rain check. I’ll leave them a message or something and we can do this another day."

You glanced back toward your table, then toward Clark, who was politely minding his own business, idly staring at his menu. Your eyes flickered to your untouched portfolio, the very reason you had come out tonight in the first place.

“I need the papers approved by Wednesday.”

"And it’s Saturday night. You have plenty of time."

“This is rich coming from you,” you deadpanned, rubbing your temple.

"I know, just… maybe it’s a sign you gotta take things slow. You know, focusing on yourself instead of work. Maybe you should go to a club or something."

You scoffed, barely biting back an incredulous laugh. “Lois… this fucking sucks.”

"I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s all my fault, okay? I’ll take you out tomorrow for brunch, swear on that. I promise. And I’ll transfer you for whatever you order tonight. Keep the receipt and give it to me."

You sighed, glancing down at your shoes. “I’m just gonna go home.”

"What? And waste a perfectly good night? You should stay out, meet new people, socialize with things that aren’t your laptop. Doesn’t that sound nice?"

You exhaled, staring blankly at the floor tiles. “I think a movie from my bed sounds really nice.”

"I’m not even gonna fight you on this."

“Bye, Lois.”

"Bye. Love you."

You ended the call with a quiet sigh, lingering in place for a moment, letting the frustration settle. You had spent the entire day mentally preparing for this meeting, running through questions, making sure every document was in order. Now, all of it felt like wasted energy.

With another steadying breath, you pushed off the pillar you had been leaning against, shoulders still tight with frustration, and made your way back to your table. The restaurant hadn’t gotten any quieter in your absence—if anything, the crowd had only grown as the night grew longer.

Clark glanced up as you returned, and the way his expression softened told you everything—he didn’t even need to ask how the call had gone. He just knew.

Still, before he could say anything, you beat him to it. “Your date’s not here yet?” You sank back into your seat, brushing a stray napkin aside as if the small action would help ground you.

Clark shook his head, and he didn’t seem too disappointed. “No, not yet.” He tilted his head slightly, studying you in that quiet, observant way of his. “Is everything alright?”

You blinked at him, still half in your own thoughts. “Hmm?”

“The phone call,” he clarified, “you seem… a little… annoyed.”

That was putting it lightly.

He hesitated, like he wasn’t sure if he should push further, then asked, voice gentle, “Do you want to talk about it?”

The simplicity of it—the way he just offered, no pressure, no expectations—unravelled some of the tension in your chest.

“I don’t wanna bother you about my stuff,” you said honestly.

“It’s no bother.”

You glanced up at him, at the unwavering patience in his expression. “You’re really sweet, Clark. You know that, right?”

A faint pink dusted the tips of his ears. “I wouldn’t say that…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s in your nature?” you teased.

He let out a small, awkward laugh, shaking his head. “I definitely wouldn’t say that either.”

That made you smile—something small, something real.

“Well, it’s true,” you insisted. “Must’ve been the way you were raised.”

“Must’ve been.”

Before you could say anything else, a waiter arrived, carefully setting a starter plate and a drink down in front of Clark. He thanked her politely, offering a small nod before she walked away.

“I, uh…” He gestured to the plate. “I ordered some nachos if you want some.”

You raised a brow. “Shouldn’t those be for your date?”

He gave you an easy, lopsided smile. “They won’t have to know.”

A small chuckle slipped out before you could stop it. “Thanks.”

“Of course.”

The nachos were surprisingly good, crisp and warm under the layer of melted cheese, but you barely tasted them. Instead, your focus kept drifting—to Clark, to your phone, to the door.

At first, you thought about calling it a night. You could have told Clark you were heading home, and he probably would have understood, probably would have even offered to walk you to your car or wait with you for an Uber. But something stopped you.

Maybe it was the way he seemed at ease, talking to you like there wasn’t anywhere else he’d rather be. Maybe it was how easy it was to talk to him tonight, without work looming over you, without deadlines keeping your conversations clipped and efficient. Or maybe—maybe it was the nagging feeling in your gut that kept telling you he was waiting on someone who wasn’t going to show.

You hated that thought.

You didn’t say anything, though, not when another ten minutes passed, not when he checked his phone for the fourth—or was it fifth?—time. You just sat with him, keeping him company, even if you dreaded the moment someone else walked through those doors.

Clark kept insisting his date would be there soon. But every time he said it, the confidence in his voice waned.

By the time another twenty minutes passed, you were sitting with your phone open in your lap, ready to call an Uber. You should go home. It had been a long day, and you weren’t exactly in the mood to be out any more. But you hesitated when Clark spoke again.

“They should be here any minute now,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

You glanced up at him, watching the way his brows pinched slightly as he checked his phone again.

He had said that before. More than once.

You were starting to feel bad for him.

You couldn’t imagine what it felt like to get stood up for a date (work was something else you could get over by tonight but a date?)—to wait around, watching the minutes tick by, hoping that maybe, just maybe, the person you were waiting for was running late instead of ignoring you altogether. And worse, you were starting to get peeved. How could anyone ghost Clark Kent?

But you didn’t say anything. Because he didn’t seem upset.

Or maybe he was just pretending not to be.

Either way, you didn’t want to remind him of the rejection. If he was pushing through it, then so were you.

It wasn’t until another thirty minutes flew by—until the sky outside had fully darkened, the city lights reflecting off the windows—that you finally exhaled and set your phone down.

“My source isn’t coming.”

Clark blinked at you, pulling his gaze away from the door. “Oh?”

“Yeah, there was a mix-up with the times or something.” You waved it off like it was no big deal, even though frustration still sat heavy in your chest. You weren’t nearly as mad as you had been earlier, but you had still wasted your night on something that should have been simple.

Clark studied you for a moment, then gave a small, almost amused huff. “Looks like we’re both out of luck then.”

You watched as his gaze flickered back toward the entrance, and then, after a beat, he sighed.

“I don’t think my date’s coming either.”

Your stomach twisted.

“I’m sorry, Clark,” you said, and you meant it.

“Don’t be,” he told you, and before you could say anything else, he was already flagging down the waiter, asking for the bill. Then, as casually as if he were asking about the weather, he turned back to you and said, “Wanna get out of here?”

You blinked. “And go where?”

He shrugged, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Anywhere. I don’t mind.”

And somehow, that was how you ended up walking down the streets of Metropolis, shoulder to shoulder with Clark Kent.

The night air was crisp, cool enough that you tugged your coat tighter around yourself. The sidewalks were busy with people, cars rolling lazily through the streets, their headlights casting soft glows against the pavement.

You weren’t sure how you had gotten here—how a frustrating, dead-end night had turned into this. But you didn’t hate it.

In fact, you were enjoying every minute of it.

The streets of Metropolis buzzed with an early-night energy. Neon signs flickered, storefronts cast golden light onto the pavement, and the hum of conversation from passing pedestrians filled the air. You walked close to Clark, close enough that your arms brushed with every step.

The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was something trusted about it—something new.

You risked a glance at him. He was looking straight ahead, hands tucked into his pockets, shoulders relaxed. But when the light of a passing car swept over his face, you caught the way his jaw tensed slightly, like he was thinking about something.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you asked.

He turned to you, his expression unreadable for a split second before softening into something reassuring. “Yeah. Why?”

You lifted a shoulder, tucking your hands into your coat pockets as you shrugged. “Just… getting stood up sucks. I figured you’d be at least a little upset.”

Clark exhaled a small huff of amusement. “I mean, yeah, I guess I could be. But I’d rather not waste my night sulking about it.”

You nodded, accepting his answer. But then, after a few seconds, you heard him add, quieter, “Besides… I’m having a nice time.”

Your stomach did an embarrassing little flip.

You kept your gaze forward, pretending like those words didn’t sink into you in a way that left you warm despite the cool night air.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “Me too.”

The conversation lulled again, but this time, it felt different. More aware. More weighted.

And then Clark suddenly spoke.

“Can I show you something?”

You blinked at him, surprised by the shift. “Uh… sure?”

He smiled, but there was something almost shy about it, something hesitant like he was second-guessing himself. “It’s not far.”

Curious, you followed his lead, stepping off the main sidewalk as he turned down a quieter street, where the glow of streetlights gave way to something softer, something greener.

Within moments, you realized where you were headed.

The city park.

You’d been here plenty of times before—Metropolis had its fair share of green spaces, a welcome contrast to the steel and glass of the skyline—but Clark led you past the more well-known paths, past the benches where couples sat talking in hushed tones, past the fountain that usually served as a meeting place.

Eventually, he guided you toward a narrow, gated pathway, tucked between a stretch of trees. He reached for the gate, pausing before glancing back at you.

“It’s, uh… it’s kind of a secret spot.”

You tilted your head, grinning. “Secret?”

His lips quirked. “Sort of. I mean, it’s public, but not many people know about it.”

“Riiight... totally not a cheesy thing to say.”

“Just, come look.”

You watched as he pushed the gate open, stepping aside to let you through first.

You hesitated for only a second before slipping past him, your shoulder brushing lightly against his chest as you stepped inside.

And then you saw it.

A sheltered little garden.

It wasn’t grand, but it was beautiful. A small, enclosed space, with an arched trellis overhead wrapped in evergrowing vines. Flowers bloomed in neatly arranged clusters, their colours muted under the soft glow of the moon and city. A narrow stone pathway curved through the space, leading to a bench beneath another canopy of vines.

The whole thing felt… unreal. Quiet. Removed from the city entirely.

You turned in a slow circle, taking it all in. “This is…” You exhaled, searching for the right word. “Wow.”

Clark smiled, stepping further in behind you. “I found it by accident a while ago. It’s kind of nice, right?”

You let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah. Kinda nice is an understatement, Smallville.”

The two of you lingered in the quiet, the city’s distant sounds muffled by the greenery around you. And when you looked at Clark again, you caught it—

That brief hesitation. That barely-there glance.

Something unreadable flickered across his face before he cleared his throat, looking away, suddenly busying himself with adjusting his glasses.

It was awkward. Endearing.

And for some reason, it made your heart beat just a little faster.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to break the silence. “So, what, you bring all your failed dates here?” you teased lightly.

Clark huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “No. Just you.”

His voice was light, teasing back—but something about it stuck with you.

Just you.

You had no idea what to say to that.

So instead, you just smiled. And hoped the darkness hid the warmth rising in your face.

Clark shifted beside you, tucking his hands deeper into his pockets, gaze flickering toward the night sky. Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “Just... don’t tell Lois about this place.”

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Or else it’ll be on the front cover of the Daily Planet and it won’t be so secret anymore.”

You snorted. “Figured.”

Then, almost immediately, your lips twisted into a frown. “Ugh, you know what? I’m still kinda pissed off with Lois.”

Clark’s eyebrows lifted. “Lois? What—why?”

You sighed, rubbing at your temple. “She was the one who arranged the whole meeting with the lawyer today. My source. She forgot to confirm or something and cancelled last minute. Can you believe it?”

Clark blinked. “Not really.”

“Yeah, me neither. She’s probably got caught up with Superman again or something—I don’t know.”

Clark’s head tilted slightly, brows drawing together. “Sorry? Superman?”

You waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s just an inside joke between us and our friends. Since she’s so close with the guy, we joke that whenever she’s acting weird, it’s because of him.”

Clark let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Does she usually?”

“Not really. But we like to watch her squirm when we bring it up.” You smirked. “Anyway, I don’t know what’s gotten into her. She’s been acting weird all week.”

Clark hummed, his gaze thoughtful. “Yeah, I noticed that too. When she was telling me about this date, she just... wasn’t herself, I guess. Left a lot of things in the dark.”

Your steps faltered slightly, your brows knitting together as something in his words made your stomach twist. You turned to look at him, trying to piece together the implications of what he was saying.

“Wait—” You exhaled, mind racing. “Lois set you up?”

Clark slowed as well, blinking as if he’d only just realized you hadn’t put it together yet. “Uh… yeah?” He frowned slightly. “I did say my date was a friend of hers.”

“Right.” You blinked, mind catching up. “Sorry, I must’ve forgotten.”

You stared at him.

He stared back.

The sounds of the city—distant honking, the chatter of pedestrians, the hum of neon signs—faded into a dull blur. It was as if the entire world had taken a collective breath and was holding it, waiting for the two of you to catch up.

Your lips parted, but no words came out. The pieces clicked together—Lois arranging your meeting, forgetting to confirm, being strangely vague about the details.

Oh.

Oh.

Your stomach flipped as realization crashed over you like a tidal wave.

Clark’s eyes widened just a fraction, his breath hitching. And then, almost at the same time—

“…No way.”

You exhaled a quiet, incredulous laugh, shaking your head as your mind reeled. Clark let out a chuckle of his own, one hand running through his hair, his fingers ruffling the strands at the back of his head. His ears—just barely visible under the glow of a nearby streetlight—had turned the faintest shade of pink again.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

You just looked at each other, as if confirming that, yes, this was real, and yes, Lois Lane had absolutely just played matchmaker.

“Well,” Clark finally said, voice warm, laced with amusement. “At least we won’t have to spend the whole night getting to know each other.”

You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Yeah. Guess not.”

The tension in your shoulders, the nervous energy, the awkwardness of the night—it all melted into something else entirely. Something softer. Something that felt… kind of nice.

Clark was still smiling, his blue eyes bright behind his glasses, and you had to resist the urge to look away, to keep from giving away the way your heart had started beating just a little faster.

He shifted, his hands slipping into his pockets as he glanced down for a second before looking back up at you.

And then, with just the slightest hint of something almost timid in his voice, he asked—

“Can I be honest?”

You tilted your head. “Sure.”

“When Lois was telling me about the date... I was hoping it would be you.”

“…Really?”

Clark nodded, lips pressing together like he was debating whether he should keep going. But then, in a quieter voice, he admitted, “Yeah... It was the only reason I agreed. And when I saw you at the restaurant, I was really excited—until you told me you were there for work.”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh. “Sorry I let you down.”

His head snapped up. “No.” He shook his head, quickly, almost too quickly. “You didn’t.”

Your stomach flipped.

“I still had fun,” he added, a little sheepishly.

You chewed the inside of your cheek, heart beating faster than you’d like to admit. “You should’ve just said something.”

Clark exhaled a laugh, glancing down again. “I know. I just... I’m not really good at this stuff.”

You smiled, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “You’re doing pretty good so far. Had me swept off my feet.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice just a little lower, a little softer.

“Oh yeah.”

A pause. A lingering look.

And then—

“We should do this again.” His lips curled, a little nervous but hopeful. “On purpose next time.”

You grinned widely, feeling warmth spread through you, from your chest to the very tips of your fingers.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “I’d like that a lot.”

[buntanteen]

svt fic recs list <3 - svt 10 year anniversary: mingyu - sfw & nsfw

summary: 10 sfw & 10 nsfw mingyu reader insert fics :)

contains: 18+ nsfw (mdni!!) majority is afab reader

✩ svt writing & fic rec masterlist ✩

✩ sfw section ✩

1. ❥ boy best friend!mingyu - @xinganhao

BESTIE MINGYU?!!?! IN LOVE WITH READER?!?!? THE YEARNING AND PINING AND DENIAL!?!?! THE PRETTY PICS HE SENDS AHHHHH

2. ❥ keeping score - @studioeisa

oh don't mind me~ just enjoying the bickering between gyu and reader heheh

3. ❥ just a roommate thing - @wheeboo

PERFECT FLIRTY CARING COOKING ROOMIE MINGYU?!?? THE FAKE DATING WITH SEOKMIN!?!?! THE JEALOUSY?!?! THE CONFESSION!!?!?! AHHH

4. ❥ trial and error - @leejungchans

he's SOOOOOOOOOOOO shy sOOOOOOOOOO lovesick puppy and he's trying sOOOOOO hard to ask reader on a date :,)

5. ❥ kissing his moles - @orikiys

i would be MELTINGGGG at this affectionnnn :,)))

6. ❥ local lover boy - @cheolism-archive

oh dear, i hope someone would care for me like this :,) and i hope someone is taking care of gyu like this :,) he's sooooo lover boy~

7. ❥ random kim mingyu bf texts (suggestive)- @woozivrsefactry

he's sOOOOOOOOO dramatic (i like it fdkjbfdk)

8. ❥ mingyu bf habits - @odxrilove

THE FIRST ONE IS SOOOOOO TARGETED FOR ME AH (someone take good gf photos of me PLSSS) AND THE HIDING BEHIND READER?!? BRO YOU'RE GONNA GET BACK ACHES FROM THAT I'M SHORT AF DKJFGDB

9. ❥ weekend getaway  - @suhnshinehaos

OMG THE CONCEPT AND EXECUTION OF SAID CONCEPT?!?! I'M IN LOVEEEEE (the members' commentary jkdgbfd)

10. ❥ mingyu caring for a sick reader - @cxffecoupx

as someone who has been feeling a bit physically down lately, this is exactlyyyy the kind of person i need AH

✩ nsfw section ✩

1. ❥ titty obsessed mingyu - @monamipencil

get me a boy obssessed with my chest as much as gyu is in this!?! holy shit

2. ❥ angel - @toruro

AHHHHHHHH THE PET NAME ANGEL NEVER FAILS TO MAKE ME FEEL SOME KINDA WAYYY

3. ❥ the secrets kept from roommates - @cheolism-archive

BOTH reader and gyu being SOOOO perverted (matching each others' freakkkk)

4. ❥ begging on his knees - @pochaccoups

on his knees???? exactly where mingyu should be hehe (ALSOOOOO puppy subby!gyu?!! AHH)

5. ❥ big dick! gyu - @svtswhorehouse

BIG DICK MINGYU LET'S GOOOOO

6. ❥ pillow princess - @catboyieejeno

pillow princess to his service top hehehehe

7. ❥ soft sex before bed - @nsfwhao

he's soooo sweet and soft and ARJGHKVFSB

8. ❥ Ways to have a man at the palm of your hand - @hoshifighting

OOOOOOOOOOH THE GAME THAT READER IS PLAYING WITH GYU (thank u kwannnie~) and the begggging!?!? teeheee

9. ❥ dilf neighbor! mingyu - @monamipencil

dilf mingyu....omfgggggggggggggggg

10. ❥ olderbf! mingyu x college student! reader (f) - @cherriicou

he would be like THEEEEEE perfect older boyfriend omfg