#series watch fic

[darkkbluee]

Death Note Series Watch AU

Its that time of the year again when i think about death note series watch fic.

We don't need to use all characters because then reactions just get too much to keep track of. So, our lucky winner is L! He gets the anime in mail and embarks on a journey of enlightenment (pun fully intended).

And why stop at the anime? He gets the manga, the tv series, the musicals too in mail!

it's terrifying to know L could die soon, and that he takes Watari along with him. But since there are so many adaptations of the same story, L thinks the future is malleable. He can change it however he likes. It also, ofc, depends on the AU he is in. Is he in anime-verse? manga-verse? Certainly not TV series, live action or musical verse because L does not look anything like those actors.

L is curious, then scared, and terrified, and most of all fascinated. Because—

There's a person out there in the world who is his match. Who thinks along lines same as him. Who sees him and understands him. Who, even when he sees and has been under all of L's terribleness, respects him.

If there was ever something like soulmates in this world, then L is sure Light Yagami is his.

Sure, this said 'soulmate' of L's also ends up killing him. But L can prevent it this time around and get this person all for himself. L has all the time and resources to do just that.

[crsssie]

down the neck - spencer reid x sharpshooter!reader

"Stop breathing down my neck." You huff, glancing through the scope at the unsub.

"Well, I have to lay low too, no?" Spencer frowns.

"It doesn't matter." You squint, humming. "Hit the button and ask Hotch if I can shoot. Be fast."

"Hotch, we have a clear shot."

"I have a clear shot."

"Snippy—"

"Fire."

You click your tongue, pulling the trigger once to hit the unsub's hand and a second to snipe the gun out of range as Morgan flies into the place. You watch through the scope as Spencer looks through the binoculars, and you only start to sit up when you see Morgan pull the unsub out. Then, you actually sit up and start packing up.

"Stop breathing down my neck." You huff.

"You weren't complaining when I—"

You hold a finger to your lips, pointing at your earpiece as Spencer blinks, laughing when you hear a cough in your ears from Hotch.

"Sorry."

"Need I remind you both of—"

"Nope." You puff out your cheeks, slinging the gun around to your back as Spencer raises a brow. "Actually, I think Reid needs a quick reminder. He'd love to go through another HR meeting about how we shouldn't be fraternizing with—"

"We're good, Hotch." Spencer cuts you off, rolling his eyes at you. "We'll see you back at the station."

"You're driving." You mumble, turning off your mic. "Two dollars and I'll drive. Four dollars and I'll make a stop at McDonalds."

"And for five?"

"I'll sneak in a kiss plus everything else."

"I think that can be arranged." He hums, pulling out a five as you press your lips to his, tongue swiping over your bottom lips as he chases when you pull away. You stick your tongue out teasingly as you take the five, craning your neck so that his lips would hit your neck instead. "Hey."

"I'll drop a ten if you—"

"Reid."

You laugh as Spencer jolts straight, pinching the bridge of his nose at the sound of Hotch.

"Turn off your mic next time."

"Roger that, sir."

You're too busy laughing the rest of the way back to be able to drive. (but spencer has no complaints when you hand him back the five with a chaste kiss to his lips).

[mel-kusanagi]

so i watched fallout because of these two, here's a wip 🙆‍♀️

[benevolenterrancy]

I absolutely love just how many time-travel fix-it fics there are in this fandom

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[dreamsatsunrise]

always yours

matt murdock x reader ⊹ established relationship ⊹ mentions of violence, blood, injury, & smut(ish) ⊹ 1k

The rhythm of his breathing gives him away before he even speaks - shallow on the intake, a hitch on the exhale. Bruised ribs, then.

"You're late."

"Got held up," he admits, stepping further into the apartment. His voice is rough, a scrape of gravel over silk, and you don't need to see his face to know he's favouring his left side.

"By?"

"A fist. A brick wall. The general lack of common sense in Hell's Kitchen." His grin is disarming, even as he presses a hand to his chest with a hiss.

You sigh, stepping close enough to catch the scent of rain and leather, the faint metallic tang of blood clinging to him like a second skin. "Sit down before you fall down, Murdock."

The bathroom is small and intimate under the warm glow of the vanity lights. You guide him onto the edge of the tub, your fingers already working at the buttons of his ruined shirt. He lets you undress him with the quiet surrender of a man who knows better than to argue.

You work in silence at first, the ritual of it sacred: warm water, soft hands, his chest heaving when you press antiseptic to a split brow. The steam rises between you, curling around his bare shoulders as you clean the dirt and grime from his skin.

The wounds aren't life-threatening - they never are, not really - but they're ugly. A gash along his ribs, shallow but angry; a cut on his forehead that's bled into his eyelashes; the usual constellation of scrapes and bruises that map Daredevil's nights.

"You're reckless," you murmur, dabbing carefully at the cut on his shoulder.

"I'm thorough."

"You're impossible."

A wet chuckle. You can hear the way his split lip pulls at the sound. The sight of him like this is a familiar ache, the way his muscles tense and relax against your touch.

"Tell me where it hurts," you ask softly.

"Everywhere," he admits, teasing. "But less, now that you're here."

You roll your eyes, but you're gentle as you continue to peel the fabric away, revealing darkening bruises beneath. He’s warm under your fingertips, alive and familiar, as you trace the edges of fresh wounds. The old scars are there too, raised lines and faded white.

"Sweetheart," he murmurs, and you glance up to find his face tilted toward you, unseeing but so unbearably focused, as if he could memorise you by touch alone.

You swallow, reaching for the washcloth. "Flattery won't stop this from stinging."

His laugh is a light rumble. "Worth a try."

The first touch of the cloth to the gash on his shin makes him tense, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, his hand finds yours, fingers threading with a subtle certainty.

"You're shaking," he observes.

You hadn't even noticed. "You're bleeding."

"Only a little."

"Only a lot," you correct, pressing another bandage to his skin.

He exhales, long and slow, his thumb tracing absent circles over your knuckles. "I'm okay, sweetheart. Promise."

"You'd better be," you mutter, but your voice cracks, betraying you.

Matt stills. Then, with urgency, he tugs you closer, until you're half in his lap, his arms wrapping around you like he could shield you from the world. His heartbeat is steady under your palm, a reassurance as solid as the man himself.

"I'm here," he whispers into your hair. "I'm always coming back to you."

His lips brush your temple, then your cheek, lingering. You tilt your head, meeting his mouth with yours, and the kiss is a comfort as much as a demand.

His hands slide up your sides, fingers pressing into the small of your back, pulling you flush against him, and the contact sends a shiver through you. His skin is fever-hot, the muscles beneath taut with tension even as he tries to gentle his touch. You can feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of your clothes, the way his breath stops when your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging just enough to draw a low, wounded sound from his throat.

"Matt -"

"Tell me to stop," he whispers against your lips, though his hands are already slipping under your shirt, calloused palms skimming your waist.

You don't.

Instead, you lean into him, your mouth opening under his, your body pressing closer as if you could erase every bruise, every cut, with touch alone. His grip tightens, possessive but reverent, and when he lifts you effortlessly, your legs wrap around his waist on instinct.

The bed dips under his weight as he lays you down, his body covering yours in a slow, deliberate press. His mouth trails from your lips to your jaw, then lower, teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your throat.

"You’re hurt," you say, even as your hips lift against his.

"Not enough to stop," he growls, hands sliding beneath you to unfasten your bra. His touch is everywhere - rough where it needs to be, tender where you crave it.

When he finally slips between your thighs, he groans at the wetness he finds there. His thrusts are deep, measured, each one dragging a moan from your lips. He braces himself above you, muscles flexing with the effort, sweat glistening on his skin. You arch up, desperate for contact, and his breath is hot against your cheek as his lips brush your pulse point with every ragged exhale.

Later, when the adrenaline has faded and the only sounds are the sighs between kisses, he traces the curve of your hip with his fingertips and asks, "Still think I'm reckless?"

You laugh, content. "Yes."

He smiles, boyish and unrepentant, before kissing you again, slow, deep, and full of promise.

[thecuriousbeauty]

Under His Watch- Part 2 (Harry Styles x reader)

Series synopsis: Y/N, an ambitious FBI intern, joins the homicide department, where she catches the eye of the brooding head detective, Harry Styles. As they tackle high-stakes cases together, Y/N uncovers a side of Harry no one else sees. Are they just boss and intern, or something more?

A/N:- This is picking off from where we left, so I highly suggest you read Part 1 first. Thank you for all the love and comments about the series, I appreciate you all so much.

Warnings: Talks about gun shot wound, smut. Fingering, spitting, penetration(p in v)

Word count: 9.3k

_________________________________________

The cold hum of the ambulance filled the small space as it sped down the winding road, sirens wailing outside, slicing through the night. Inside, the soft beeping of medical equipment was the only other sound. Harry sat close to the cot where Y/N lay, her face pale from having a bullet through her arm. She winced with each bump, but her eyes remained locked on him, half-lidded and tired. 

The moment replayed in his head over and over, each second more unbearable than the last. He hadn’t reacted fast enough, hadn’t shielded her like he should have. He managed to tackle the man and shoot a bullet through his shoulder who was aiming his gun at y/n, but he wasn’t quick enough. The guy had shot y/n at the same time. I should’ve done more. I should’ve moved. I should’ve protected her. She was just starting out, an intern under his watch, and he had promised to keep her safe. But now she was hurt, and he had let it happen. It’s my fault, he thought, as the weight of the guilt pressed down on him, leaving him powerless and hollow.

Harry’s jaw clenched as he fought to keep his own emotions in check. His fingers hovered near her hand, the urge to reach out strong, but he hesitated, not wanting to make her feel vulnerable, yet all he could think of was how much he cared. 

“You should have stayed in the car.”, he finds himself muttering. 

“And let him shoot y-you?”, she asked, her voice raspy and her eyes flick to the white bandage on her arm, quickly tainting red. Harry noticed her breath hitching and a little bit of fear running through her eyes even though she tried to mask it. 

Harry gently turned her head back to him, index and thumb finger holding her chin, “Don’t look, y/n. Stay with me, okay?”

Y/N managed a weak nod. 

“You got hurt because you tried to protect me.”, Harry says softly, shaking his head. “I was just doing my job,” she whispered, her eyelids fluttering as the adrenaline began to wear off, exhaustion creeping in.

“C-Couldn’t let the mission go s-south..” She offered a weak smile, her voice raspy. “Are you mad that I didn’t listen to you?”

He swallowed hard, the weight of his feelings pressing against his chest. How could he ever be mad at her, when in that moment, she had shown him exactly what kind of person she was? She was brave, unyielding, and selfless, and every one of those qualities only made her more admirable in his eyes.

“No,” Harry said, his voice soft, almost too soft. He leaned forward slightly, his expression genuine. “I’m not mad at you.”

Her eyes flickered up to meet his, searching his face for any hint of dishonesty, but all she saw was sincerity.

"You didn’t listen to me, and I shouldn’t have let you even come along," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, yet his words held a depth of emotion he wasn’t sure he was ready to express.  “But I can’t be mad at you. Not when you were doing what you thought was right… Not when you were doing it to protect me, to protect that little girl, to help catch a criminal.”

Her hand shifted just enough to brush against his, the touch soft but intentional. Harry finally allowed his fingers to set

tle over hers, squeezing gently, his thumb brushing the back of her hand in a silent promise. “You’re one hell of an intern,” he murmured, his words more tender than he intended. His gaze softened as he studied her, noting the way she tried to fight through the pain, the way she still cared about their mission, even now.

Harry leaned closer, his breath catching for a moment. "And promise me next time you'll let me do the heavy lifting."

Y/N gave him a small, knowing smirk before her eyes fluttered shut again, the exhaustion of the mission and her injury catching up to her. Harry sat silently beside her, his presence a silent assurance. 

________________________________________________

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon as Harry carefully navigated the streets, the next day. Y/N sat in the passenger seat, her arm in a sling, but she was looking better than the day before — a little more alert, though still a little pale. The bullet had only grazed her arm, so recovery wouldn’t take too long. She had insisted on going back to her flat, not wanting to stay in the hospital any longer, but Harry couldn’t shake the feeling that she shouldn’t be alone just yet.

“You sure you don’t want me to stay for a bit?” Harry asked, glancing over at her as they neared her building. “At least until you’re settled in?”

“I’ll be fine, Harry,” Y/N replied, her voice soft but steady, the same determination that had led her to ignore his warnings the day before now pushing her to insist on independence. “It’s just my arm, not my whole body. I can manage.” She gave him a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You’ve done enough already.”

He parked the car in front of her building, but his concern was still evident. “I don’t know, Y/N. You’re injured. You’re not supposed to be lifting anything, and what if something happens? I’d feel better if I stayed for a bit.”

Y/N bit her lip, feeling guilty for pushing him away. “I appreciate it, really,” she said, meeting his eyes. “But I’m okay. I don’t need to be babied.”

Harry let out a slow breath, still unconvinced, but he didn’t press the issue further. Instead, he got out of the car and went around to open her door, offering her a steadying hand as she carefully climbed out. “Alright,” he said reluctantly, “but I’m still making sure you have dinner. And maybe a little something extra for tomorrow.”

Y/N’s heart softened at the thought. "Harry, you don’t have to—"

“I know,” he interrupted with a grin. “But I want to. So, where’s your kitchen?”

Once they got upstairs, Harry settled her on the couch with a blanket, making sure she was comfortable, while he busied himself in her small kitchen. Y/N tried to offer help, but he just gently shooed her away, telling her to relax. She couldn’t help but watch him, the way he moved with such care, every gesture deliberate. He wasn’t just making food — he was making sure she had enough to eat, enough to last. It was as if he was taking care of her in ways she hadn’t known she needed.

By the time he finished, a warm, hearty meal of pasta and grilled vegetables filled the apartment with a comforting aroma. Harry set the table, a little extra portion already packed for tomorrow.

"Here you go," he said, sitting down across from her, his eyes meeting hers. “It’s not much, but I figured it’s better than hospital food.”

Y/N looked at the plate in front of her, but it wasn’t the food that caught her attention — it was the thought behind it. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had cared for her like this. Sure, people had helped her out in the past, but it wasn’t the same. Not like this.

“I—thank you,” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper. “This means a lot.”

Harry smiled, picking up his fork and digging in. “You’ve been through a lot. The least I can do is make sure you’re fed and taken care of for a night.” He paused, his eyes softening as he watched her. “You really don’t have to do everything on your own, you know. You’ve got people who care about you.”

Y/N met his gaze, her heart suddenly feeling like it was too full. She wasn’t used to feeling this vulnerable, this open, but with Harry, everything seemed to fall into place. "I know," she said quietly, finally allowing herself to let the walls down. "But it’s hard to let people in sometimes."

Harry nodded, understanding, his eyes not leaving hers. “I get that.” 

They ate in comfortable silence, the conversation flowing easily between them — about the case, about small things in their day-to-day lives, and even a few personal stories shared between bites. It felt… normal. Natural. Like they’d known each other far longer than they actually had.

When they finished, Harry cleared the dishes and made sure everything was put away for the night, leaving her apartment neat and tidy. He didn’t rush. He wanted to make sure she had everything she needed before he left.

As he finished up, Y/N sat on the couch, her arm resting gingerly on a cushion. Harry turned to her, standing near the door, his hand resting on the frame.

“Well,” he said, a slight hesitation in his voice, “I should probably let you get some rest.”

Y/N looked up at him, her heart racing. She couldn’t deny the warmth she felt whenever he was around, the way he seemed to care without even asking for anything in return.

Before she could say anything, Harry moved closer, bending down slightly to press a soft, lingering kiss to her cheek. 

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he murmured against her skin, his voice barely above a whisper, and then, with a small smile, he turned and left, leaving her with a heart full of warmth and a lingering feeling of something deeper between them.

As she sat there, hand resting on her cheek where his lips had just been, Y/N couldn’t help but smile to herself. She was beginning to realize that Harry wasn’t just her partner in the field; he was someone she could trust — someone who cared for her in a way that made her feel safe, even when the world was anything but.

And maybe, just maybe, she was starting to care about him, too.

____________________________________________

Two days later, Y/N was back at her desk in the FBI office, much to Harry's dismay. He had insisted she take a full week off to recover from the gunshot wound, but Y/N had pushed back. There was too much work, too many files to go through, and far too many lessons to catch up on. 

As soon as she walked through the door, the team of detectives greeted her with a chorus of smiles and welcoming remarks. They had all been concerned about her recovery, but now that she was back, the playful teasing began almost immediately.

Eliza, who had a knack for teasing everyone in the office, was the first to speak up. “Look who’s back!” she said with a grin, crossing her arms as she leaned against a nearby desk. “We didn’t think we’d see you until next week! Did Harry finally stop hovering long enough for you to escape?”

Ethan, always quick with a joke, added, “Yeah, I’ve never seen him so worried. He was practically pacing yesterday. Thought he might’ve had a panic attack waiting for you in the hospital.”

Y/N’s cheeks immediately flushed at the mention of Harry’s concern. She had caught glimpses of his worry during her recovery, but hearing it from her colleagues made her suddenly feel self-conscious.

Nora raised an eyebrow with a slight smile. “I think Harry’s got a soft spot for you. It was kind of cute seeing him so protective.”

Cole, ever the playful one, gave a chuckle. “Oh, definitely. You two looked like an old married couple when he was fussing over you. I’m just saying, we all noticed.”

Y/N shot him a mock glare. “You guys are ridiculous,” she muttered, trying to hide the fact that her heart was racing a little faster at their teasing. 

Eliza grinned widely. “I ship it,” she said dramatically, her voice teasing. “I think you two are the perfect match. Don’t try to hide it, Y/N. The way Harry was looking after you? That’s textbook romance material right there.”

Y/N’s face went from pink to crimson in an instant. “Stop it, Eliza,” she said, covering her face with her hand in embarrassment.

The team burst out laughing, all of them thoroughly enjoying her discomfort. Just as the teasing reached a peak, the office door swung open with a soft creak, and Harry walked in. The moment he stepped into the room, the energy shifted. The playful chatter stopped abruptly, and the entire team grew quiet. Y/N’s heart skipped as she turned to face him, still feeling the warmth on her cheeks from the teasing.

Harry looked around, his brow furrowing slightly as he noticed the sudden silence. “What’s going on here?” he asked, his voice neutral but with a hint of curiosity. His eyes flicked over the group, landing on Y/N, who was still trying to compose herself.

Ethan leaned forward with a smirk. “Oh, nothing, Harry. We were just talking about how much you were hovering over Y/N when she was at the hospital. You know, the whole ‘I’m so worried I can’t stop pacing’ thing.”

Y/N could feel her face burning as she glanced up at Harry. His expression softened at the mention of his concern for her, though he quickly glanced back at the team with a small, knowing smile.

“It’s my job to take care of my team,” Harry said with a shrug, though his eyes lingered on Y/N for a moment longer than necessary. Then, with a glance back at the team, he added, “I’d rather worry too much than not enough.”

The playful teasing began to die down, but Eliza wasn’t quite done yet. “So, when’s the first official date, you two?” she asked, her voice full of mock sincerity.

Before Y/N could react, Harry gave the room a long, pointed look. “Enough, Eliza,” he said with a smile, his tone warm but firm. “Let’s get back to work.”

With that, Harry turned and left the office, his footsteps light as he disappeared into the hallway. The moment the door closed behind him, the team erupted in laughter once more, their teasing only escalating.

Y/N sighed and shook her head, trying her best to appear unbothered, though she couldn’t help but feel a little giddy from the whole interaction.

__________________________________________________

Y/N walked down the hallway, coffee in hand, a stack of files tucked under her arm. She knocked lightly on Harry’s door before stepping inside, her usual warmth filling the room despite the slight sadness that had been lingering in her chest all day.

"Hey, I brought you those files you asked for," she said with a small smile, placing them on his desk. She set the coffee down beside it, the steam rising in soft tendrils. “And your coffee, of course.”

“You’re a lifesaver.” Harry’s fingers brushed hers as he took the coffee, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel a flutter in her chest at the simple touch. She had been trying to ignore how much she cared about him, how much her heart raced whenever he looked at her, but moments like this made it harder to deny. 

Harry caught the fleeting moment in her eyes, his expression softening as he looked at her. "Thanks, Y/N," he said, voice quiet, sincere. There was something in the way he said her name, a tenderness that made her stomach do a little flip.

But the moment passed, and she cleared her throat, pushing the thoughts aside. She wasn’t here to get lost in her feelings. “I should probably let you get back to work,” she said, her tone a little more businesslike, though there was an undercurrent of something deeper.

As she turned to leave, Harry’s voice stopped her.

"Y/N," he said gently, standing up from his desk. "You okay? You seem… I don’t know, a little off today."

Y/N paused, her back to him, a brief silence stretching between them before she turned back around. Her eyes met his, and for a moment, she felt a pang in her chest.

"I’m fine," she lied, but Harry wasn’t buying it.

He studied her for a moment before walking over to her, his expression concerned. “Come on, I know you better than that. What’s going on?”

Y/N hesitated, not wanting to burden him with her feelings, but something in the way he was looking at her made it impossible to keep the truth to herself. “It’s just… well, these are my last two days with the Homicide department,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I’ll miss the team, and… I think I’ll miss working with you the most.”

Harry’s heart tightened at her words, and for a moment, he just stood there, unsure of how to respond. He hadn’t realized how much her leaving would affect him until now.

“You know, Y/N,” Harry began, his tone softer than usual, “we’re all still going to be in the same building. We won’t be far apart. And, hey,” he added, his voice a little lighter, “after your internship is over, you could always join the Homicide department for real. We’d love to have you.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered up to meet his, and a small smile tugged at her lips, though the sadness didn’t quite leave her gaze. “I don’t know. I’ve learned a lot here, and it’s hard to think about leaving. But maybe I’ll consider it… if you’ll still have me.”

Harry’s smile was warm, genuine. “You cracked some of the cases we couldn’t in the short time you were here, and you’ve learnt so much, so quick. Of course we’d have you, y/n.”

Y/N’s chest warmed at his words. “Thank you, sir..”

He nodded, head turning to the phone as it rang, but not before he asked her, “Are you going to Ethan’s party tonight?”

 His question was casual, but there was a hint of something in his tone, something that made her heart skip a beat.

She paused for a moment, surprised by the question. She hadn't thought much about the party, not with everything going on in her head, but now that Harry had mentioned it, the thought of spending more time with him — even outside of work — made her feel both nervous and excited.

"Yeah," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I’ll be there. Ethan’s been reminding me about it every day this week." 

"Good," he said. “I’ll see you there.”

________________________________________________________

Y/N walked into the lively party, the soft hum of chatter and the clink of glasses filling the air. The warm glow of fairy lights adorned the walls, and the scent of fresh flowers and cake lingered in the air. Her eyes scanned the crowd until she spotted Ethan, who was laughing with a group of friends by the punch bowl.

“Hey, happy birthday!” Y/N grinned, making her way over to him.

Ethan looked up, his face lighting up with a wide smile. “Y/N! I’m so glad you made it! Thank you, thank you for coming!”

Y/N chuckled, giving him a quick hug. “Of course! Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

As they chatted, Y/N’s gaze subtly drifted across the room. She hadn’t seen Harry yet—her boss, and the man who made her pulse race every time their paths crossed. She had dressed up tonight. The red dress she wore hugged her curves in all the right ways, its fabric flowing slightly at her knees. The color made her stand out among the crowd, and for once, she didn’t mind the attention. But deep down, she couldn’t help but wonder if it would catch Harry's eye.

And then, there he was.

Harry stood across the room, talking to some colleagues, but his eyes met hers almost immediately. His gaze lingered longer than usual, his expression unreadable for a moment before it softened. He gave her a small wave, his lips curling into a subtle smile, and she felt her heart skip a beat.

Y/N tried to remain composed, turning back to Ethan to finish her conversation. But she couldn’t help the flutter in her chest.  When she finally turned back toward Harry, she could see him making his way toward her, his tall frame parting the crowd effortlessly.

"Looks like someone’s popular tonight,” Ethan teased, nudging her with an elbow, his voice playful.

Before she could respond, Harry reached them, his presence commanding the room even as his tone softened with her.

“Y/N,” he said, his deep voice wrapping around her name. He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. “You look… stunning.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat at the unexpected compliment. She hadn't been ready for it—not like this. She had never heard him speak to her like that before. He wasn’t the type to be openly affectionate, especially at work. His gaze, though, was warm, and there was something undeniably intense about it.

Harry is absolutely stunning in this look. His silky gold shirt catches the light, adding a subtle glow that highlights his natural charisma. The shirt clings just enough to emphasize his physique, while the loose, effortless vibe still makes him look laid-back yet polished. The jeans fit him perfectly, showing off his figure without being too tight, and the boots give the whole outfit a bold edge, with just the right amount of ruggedness. His hair, styled into loose curls, frames his face in a way that feels so natural and effortless, giving him a touch of rockstar flair. The tattoos on his arms are on full display, adding an extra layer of intrigue to his look, hinting at a deeper personality and experiences. He looks effortlessly chic, like someone who's confident in their own skin and doesn't need to try too hard to captivate.

“I—uh… thank you,” she stammered, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. “You… you look great too.” She cursed herself inwardly, knowing how awkward she must’ve sounded.

Harry chuckled softly, the corner of his lips curving up. “I wasn’t talking to you,” he said, his voice teasing as he glanced at Ethan.

Ethan just rolled his eyes, knowing better than to interrupt whatever was about to unfold between them.

“Anyway,” Harry continued, his tone more serious as he looked back at Y/N, “I really meant it. You look beautiful.”

Y/N’s stomach did a little flip at the sincerity in his voice. It was the first time he had ever said something so direct to her. His words hung in the air, and she felt a sudden rush of warmth spread across her skin. She was definitely flustered now, her usual calm composure slipping away.

“Thank you.”, she said, hoping that she wasn’t blushing too much.

For a moment, the space between them seemed to grow heavy, the world around them fading into the background. Y/N found herself looking up into his eyes, and it felt like the chemistry between them was undeniable now. The air hummed with tension, and she could feel her pulse quicken.

Ethan, sensing the growing awkwardness, excused himself with a grin. “Well, I’ll let you two catch up.” With that, he was gone, leaving them alone together.

"So," Harry began, "Care for something to drink?”

 "I think that’s a good idea," she said, her nerves slowly easing. "Maybe something non-alcoholic, though. I’m not sure I trust myself with anything stronger tonight."

Harry nodded, clearly amused. "Fair enough. I’ll go easy on you." He motioned toward the bar area. "How about a soda or something?”

"That sounds perfect," Y/N replied, smiling as they made their way over to the bar. The soft chatter of the party still buzzed in the background, but the closer they got to the bar, the more the noise faded, leaving only the hum of conversation between them.

As they reached the counter, Y/N ordered a cold lemonade, Harry opting for iced tea, and they leaned casually against the bar, the glasses in front of them clinking lightly as they were placed down.

Y/N took a sip of her lemonade, enjoying the cool refreshment, and then she realized she was rambling, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. "I’m sorry I’m late," she said with a sheepish laugh. "I meant to get here earlier, but, well, the neighbour’s cat somehow got in my flat, I ran out of mascara and some last minute outfit changes. I swear, if the universe could find a way to make me late, it would."

Harry, who had been quietly listening to her explanation, couldn’t help but smile as she continued. There was something endearing about how she seemed to get lost in the details, her hands gesturing as she spoke, her eyes wide with the intensity of her words.

"Sounds like quite the evening," Harry said, his voice warm, but his expression was softer than she expected. He was looking at her with this amused, almost fond expression, as if he enjoyed hearing her talk. “It’s good that you made it, though.”

Y/N, now realizing she’d been going on a bit too much, suddenly stopped herself, feeling a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I’m rambling. I just—I don’t know why I’m telling you all this,” she said, her face flushing slightly as she tried to compose herself.

Harry chuckled, his gaze never leaving hers. "You don’t need to apologize for that," he said, his voice low and reassuring. "I don’t mind listening. It’s nice hearing you talk about… well, anything, really."

Y/N blinked at the sincerity in his tone. It was unexpected and, in a way, incredibly grounding. It wasn’t just the usual polite conversation, he was flirting with her.

So she decides to do it back.

“So, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything other than work clothes. Is this a new Harry I’m seeing?” she asked, a teasing smile tugging at her lips.

Harry laughed. “What, you think I only own suits and vests?” he teased back, a slight smirk of his own forming. 

“No,” she replied, his gaze never breaking from hers, “I’m just surprised you’ve never let us see this side of you before. You clean up pretty well.”

Harry smiled. “Thanks. Guess you’ll just have to get used to it,” he said, her voice light but with an edge of confidence.

“What does that mean?”

“That I’d love to hang out with you some time.”

She takes a sip of her drink, before replying, “Are you asking me out?”

“Would you like that?”, he questions her back.

“I think I would.”, she smiles, and he grins, going to say something but a guy comes and slaps his shoulder. “Styles! Long time!”

Harry catches up with his friend for a few minutes, but y/n notices that he’s looking at her most of the time, his eyes flick down to her dress, her legs and quickly back up. When he leaves, Harry leans in to tell her, “I have to say. You’re making it hard for me to focus on anything else tonight.” He didn’t elaborate, but his tone was heavy with meaning, making the space between them seem all the more charged.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, trying to deflect the heat she could feel in her chest. “I’d say I’m not the only one causing distractions around here,” she shot back with a playful smile, scanning the room, but she could feel his gaze still on her.

“You’ve got me there,” Harry replied, his voice dropping slightly, playful but tinged with something else. “But it’s hard to focus on anyone else when you look like that.”

“You’re impossible,” she murmured, though her lips curled into a smile.

Harry smirked, eyes twinkling with mischief. “You like it.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and she suddenly realized how close they were. Knees touching, and his lips were so close. So close she could kiss him. Before she could think about it some more, Eliza appeared at her side.

“Alright, enough of the talking,” Eliza said with a playful glint in her eyes. “Time to get you two on the dance floor!” Without even giving them a chance to protest, she grabbed Y/N’s hand and pulled her toward the crowd, a smiling Harry reluctantly following behind.

Y/N tried to laugh off the sudden shift. “Eliza, we don’t have to—”

“Nope!” Eliza interrupted with a wink at Harry. “You’re both going. It’s happening.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at her friend's persistence. “You really think you can play matchmaker in the middle of a party?”

Eliza’s grin widened. “Absolutely. Now let’s dance!”

Before Y/N could protest again, Eliza had them both at the heart of the dance floor, the music filling the air. The crowd around them moved to the rhythm, and so did they, y/n swayed her hips to the beats, raising her arms in the air. Harry’s hands graze her waist, like he was testing waters and when she moves back against his back, his hands hold on to her hips as he moves with her. She can feel him press against her, and the sexual tension is now hard to ignore.

His tattooed hands, clad with rings, wrapped around her, lean fingers that she’d love to have elsewhere. As the song changed, she turned around to keep her hands on his chest and he looked down at her. Harry's gaze was steady on hers, but it wasn’t her eyes he was focused on anymore. She could feel his attention shift slightly, his eyes drawn down to her lips, and for a brief moment, everything else in the room seemed to blur out of existence.

Y/N’s breath hitched, caught in the intensity of the moment. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from Harry’s face either, watching as his eyes lingered on her lips with an almost palpable intensity. It wasn’t subtle—there was no mistaking the way his gaze softened, his lips parted slightly, as though he were struggling to resist the urge to close the space between them. 

For a moment, neither of them moved, the air between them thick with something unspoken. She could see the way his eyes flicked from her lips to her eyes, as if weighing the decision, the choice he hadn’t yet made.

“Do you..wanna get out of here?”, he finally whispers. 

y/n found herself nodding, “Let’s go.”

With that, Harry’s hand moved to slide over hers, gently grasping it as they weaved through the crowd and out. They were moving so fast, Harry almost tripped over twice, making her giggle. 

As soon as they were in his car, both of them didn't hesitate. Harry’s hands cup her cheeks as their lips mold together. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like a question being asked and answered in the same breath. Y/N’s heart fluttered as she felt Harry’s lips press against hers, a warmth spreading through her like nothing she had ever experienced. There was no urgency, no rush—just the quiet exchange of something deeper, something they had both been holding onto.

“About time we did that.”, he says, still breathless and wanting more of her. She hums in agreement as his tongue swipes against her bottom lip. She parts her lips, letting his tongue slip in and leans over so she can get closer to him, her hands weaving into his hair. He makes it easier by quickly moving his hands to her hips so he can effortlessly shift her to his lap and she squeaks in surprise, making him laugh into the kiss. 

He groans as he feels her press herself against him, and he grows so hard, it’s almost painful. He’s been trying to calm his little friend all night. 

“Bloody hell, if you keep doing that, I’m gonna cum in my pants.Let me drive us home first, alright?”

She laughed, moving back to her seat. “Alright.”

The car ride was quiet, brimming with anticipation of what was about to happen, and Harry’s hand rested on her thigh, making her squirm in her seat. She just wanted to press his hand to where she most needed him.

“You okay, love?”, he asks, taking the turn that leads to his house.

“Uh huh.”

The minute they make it inside his house, y/n’s pulling him close, connecting their lips again. “Feisty, I like it.”, Harry mumbles against her lips, his hand tracing up her thigh while the other holds her hip.

“Harry..”, she whispers his name, different from all the times she had called out to him, and he loved to hear it. 

“Don’t worry y/n, I got you.” His hand finally moves to her centre, fingers directly pressing onto her clit over the material of her panties making her breath hitch and a small moan escape her lips. “Oh baby, you’re so wet. No wonder why you were squirming in the seat.”

“All for you, Harry.”, she replies, parting her legs a little as he taps against her inner thigh. His fingers move the panties to a side and he slides two fingers inside her, fingers sleek against the wetness. 

“Oh fuck..”, she moans, her back pressing against the wall. “Please Harry..”

His skilled fingers move in and out of her, curling inside and hitting just the right spot, pleasuring her perfectly. “Wanna taste you, baby, come on, let go for me. I bet you taste so sweet.”

Her eyes roll back and her knees grow weak, but Harry holds her as she reaches her high. He takes his hand from out of her dress and brings his fingers to his mouth, licking each finger clean while looking at her. 

“Knew it, sweet as honey.”, he murmurs, and y/n giggles, catching her breath before moving her hands to start unbuttoning his shirt. “That was amazing.”

“Yeah? I can show you more.”, he smirks, watching as y/n runs a hand over his abs, tracing his tattoos. “Show me. Take me to bed, Harry.”

“With pleasure.” He scoops her up, hands splayed over her ass.

“Wait! Let me take off these heels.”, she says, making both of them laugh as she struggles to unbuckle it and Harry helps, strong enough to hold her up with one hand and help her remove the heels with the other. 

“Okay now, let’s go.”, she giggles.

“As you wish.”

They share kisses on the way to his bedroom, while she works on the button on his pants, now that she’s thrown his shirt somewhere on the way. “I like your tattoos, makes you look a lot hotter.”

“Thanks, love. Oh shit..” He moans as she palms him over his boxers. “Can I take this off?”, he asks, his hand moving to her back to the hook of her dress.

“Sure.” She lifts her hips so he can slide it down her legs, and he slides down her panties as well. His boxers are on the floor as well, and they both just stare at each other for a minute. 

“Fucking hell, you’re a beauty. Gorgeous.”, Harry’s eyes rake over her body, one hand moving to cup her breast in his hand. Every inch of her was beautiful. Her smooth, soft, skin, her breasts were the perfect size to cup in his hands and her nipples were perked up, he earned a soft moan when his thumb brushed over it.

“Is that gonna fit inside?”, she finds herself asking, looking at him quickly rip open a packet of condoms from the night stand and roll it on to his dick. He laughs, loving the ego boost. “We’ll make it fit.”

He lines himself up with her entrance, eyes admiring her glistening pussy. “That’s the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”

Her cheeks redden under his gaze, and she takes in a breath when he pushes inside her. Slowly at first, letting her adjust.

“Fuck me, Harry..”, she moans, the slight pain turning into pleasure.

“That’s just what I’m gonna do.”, he promises, hand squeezing her breast and the other gripped her hip as he started to thrust his hips. y/n didn’t want him to stop. She wanted him, all of him. His weight on top of her. She wanted to squeeze him in further and further. She watches his face. Hair sweaty, the beautiful features of his face contorted in pleasure and she loved that she was the one making him feel like that. She wanted to watch his sweat drop onto her.

“You feel so fucking good.”, he grunts, going faster and she holds on to his back, wanting to say the same thing back, but her mouth doesn’t know how to form words at the moment. 

“L-Louder, love, wanna hear how good I’m making you feel.”, he demands, and she doesn’t hold back on her moans. The hand on her breast moves to her jaw. “Open.”

She opens up for him, just as he asked, and his lips pucker a little before he spits, right onto her tongue. She moans, something like electricity zapping through her body. 

“You like that, don’t you? Such a dirty girl. Swallow.”

She does, then pulls his face down to press their lips together again. “I-I won’t last much longer.”, she warns.

“Me neither.”, he agrees, quickening his pace. 

They cum with their lips locked together, helping each other through their orgasms, riding it out. “You okay?”, he grins when he finally pulls away and she grins back at him, tired, but feeling amazing because she just had the best fuck she’s ever had in her life. 

“I’m great. You?”

“Me too.” He smiles, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

___________________________________________

The morning light streamed softly through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. The air was still, peaceful, as though the world outside had paused for just a moment. Harry and Y/N were nestled together in the bed, the soft sheets tangled around them. Y/N rested her head on Harry’s chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling her into a contented state of relaxation.

Harry’s fingers gently stroked her hair, his touch tender as he traced slow, gentle circles on her scalp. Y/N shifted slightly, her eyes still closed, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she felt the warmth of his embrace.

“So,” Harry murmured softly, his voice still thick with sleep. “Do you always look this cute in the mornings, or is it just me?”

Y/N chuckled, her lips brushing against his chest as she laughed. “Oh, I’m sure it’s just you,” she teased, her voice playful. “I’m usually a total disaster before coffee.”

Harry grinned, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of her head. “You’re a total disaster? I find that hard to believe.”

“Well,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest, “you’ve never seen me before 9 a.m. on a Monday. It’s a whole other level of chaos.”

Harry let out a soft laugh, his fingers gently tracing the curve of her back. “I’m sure it’s cute chaos.”

Y/N lifted her head slightly, her eyes meeting his with a playful glint. “Maybe. But only if you can tolerate it.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smile widening. “I think I can tolerate a little chaos, especially when it looks like you.”

She couldn’t help but smile, warmth spreading through her chest. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

Harry leaned in, brushing his lips softly against hers in a gentle, lingering kiss. It was slow, tender, the kind of kiss that didn’t rush, but simply savored the moment. When they pulled back, their eyes met, the unspoken connection between them more evident than ever.

“You know,” Harry said, his voice soft and teasing, “if you keep looking at me like that, we might have to start the day over.”

Y/N laughed, resting her head back against his chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin. “I think I could be convinced to stay here a little longer.”

“Well, I’m certainly not complaining,” Harry said with a soft smile, pulling her in closer. His lips brushed against her forehead in another gentle kiss, his voice low and sincere. “This is perfect.”

But something inside her turned as she came back to reality. He was her boss, and she was his intern. How could they make it Harry, sensing the subtle change in her mood, paused in his movements. He had been so focused on the softness of their time together, the easy jokes, and the warmth of her presence, but now, he could feel the shift. Her breathing had become just a little more uneven, the tension in her body noticeable despite her efforts to remain relaxed.

“Y/N?” Harry’s voice was gentle, but there was an edge of concern. He shifted slightly, tilting her chin so that she met his gaze. “What’s on your mind?”

She blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his question. She hadn’t realized how much she had been lost in her own thoughts. She tried to smile, but it came out a little weak, and Harry wasn’t fooled. He’d always been able to read her, and now wasn’t any different.

“It’s nothing,” she said quickly, brushing it off. “Just... thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” Harry pressed softly, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. 

Y/N hesitated, her gaze dropping to his chest for a moment. 

“I... I just keep thinking about how this is... complicated,” she finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re my boss, Harry. I’m your intern. And I don’t want to make things difficult for either of us.”

Harry was silent for a moment, his thumb brushing lightly over her skin, his gaze thoughtful. “Today’s the last day you’re my intern, y/n. We won’t be working with each other as much in the next few months. So it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“What if I decide to work in homicide after my internship and exams?”

He smiled softly, pressing a kiss to her nose. “Then we’ll figure it out. There is no rule that we can’t date co agents, you know.”

“There isn’t?”

He shakes his head. “And if they make one by that time, I’m the head of my department! Leave it up to me. But I’m not letting you go.”, he tightens his arms around her and she slowly smiles. “No?”

“Never.” 

She smiled softly, resting her head back on his chest, her fingers lightly tracing patterns on his skin as she let the quiet comfort of his embrace settle over her.

________________________________________________

The cafeteria buzzed with the usual midday noise—the clinking of trays, low murmur of voices, the hum of casual conversation. But for Y/N, it felt like everything had slowed down, the noise fading into the background as she stared at the pile of study materials in front of her. The detective exam was coming up soon, and despite all the hours she’d put into studying, her nerves seemed to have a life of their own, making it harder to focus.

She was trying to hide it, trying to keep the tension in her shoulders from showing, but she couldn’t stop the anxious fidgeting. Her fingers drummed against the table in a rapid rhythm as she flipped through her notes one more time, but the words were starting to blur together. The pressure of the exam, the weight of the expectations, it all felt like too much in that moment.

From across the table, Harry watched her, a soft frown forming as he noticed how tightly wound she seemed. They didn’t work in the same department anymore, but they still met for lunch at work whenever they could. She’d been quiet the past few days, and it was clear why now. He could see the nerves written across her face.

“Hey,” Harry’s voice was gentle but firm, drawing her out of her spiraling thoughts. “You’re overthinking it. You’ve been studying for this for months. You know this stuff.”

Y/N glanced up at him, trying to force a smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I don’t know. I’ve been feeling... I don’t know, stuck. Like, I can’t get everything to stick.”

Harry’s eyes softened, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something more serious. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table, his gaze fixed on hers. “You’re going to be fine, Y/N. You’ve worked hard. You’re one of the smartest people I know. Don’t let a little stress make you doubt yourself.”

She sighed, her shoulders slumping as she finally allowed herself to relax into the weight of his words. “I just keep thinking, what if I mess it up? What if I’m not ready? I’ve been preparing so much, but what if it's not enough?” Her voice was almost a whisper, the anxiety creeping into her words.

Harry gave her a reassuring smile, his eyes warm and steady. He leaned closer, his hand resting over hers on the table, giving it a comforting squeeze. “You’ve been doing this for a long time now. You’re more than ready. You know your stuff better than anyone else in that room. And even if you make a mistake? It’s not the end of the world. You’ll bounce back, like you always do.”

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling the tension in her chest ease a little as Harry’s calm presence wrapped around her like a shield. She let her eyes linger on his hand over hers, the steady warmth of his touch grounding her in the moment.

“You always know how to calm me down,” she said, her voice a little quieter, softer. It wasn’t the first time Harry had been there for her in moments like this, when doubt and pressure threatened to overwhelm her. It was one of the many reasons she trusted him, not just as a colleague, but as a friend. Someone who had always supported her.

Harry gave her a crooked smile, his thumb gently brushing over the back of her hand. “It’s easy when you’re this easy to calm down,” he teased lightly, trying to get her to relax a bit. “But seriously, you’ve got this. I’m not worried, so you don’t need to be either.”

She managed a small smile, feeling the weight on her shoulders begin to lift. “I wish I had your confidence.”

“You do,” he said, his voice steady. “Maybe not always about the exam, but I know you have it in you. Just breathe. Take it one step at a time. You’re not alone in this, alright?”

Y/N nodded, her chest feeling lighter as she looked at Harry. His words had a way of breaking through her walls, reminding her that she wasn’t doing this alone. They had been through so much together, and even if they didn’t work in the same department anymore, his presence in her life still meant everything.

“I guess I just needed to hear that,” she admitted, feeling a bit vulnerable but also grateful. “Thanks, Harry.”

“No problem,” he replied with a smile, his fingers giving hers a reassuring squeeze before he pulled his hand back. “Now, let’s get back to work. You want me to quiz you on the most difficult stuff?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge flickering in her eyes. “You really think you can handle it?”

Harry leaned back in his chair with a confident smirk, clearly not phased. “I’m pretty sure I’m the right person for the job. You ready?”

“Bring it on,” she said with a grin, her nerves starting to settle now that the pressure didn’t feel so heavy.

The next few hours passed in a blur of study sessions, laughter, and Harry’s teasing as he quizzed her on everything from case law to criminal psychology. By the time they finished their lunch, Y/N felt a little more confident, the weight of her nerves lightening with every bit of encouragement Harry gave her.

_____________________________________________

Y/N smiled as she unpacked the basket, feeling a sense of relief wash over her now that the exam was behind her. “I still can’t believe you packed all this,” Y/N said, grinning at the spread Harry had prepared. She eyed the selection of sandwiches, fresh fruit, crackers, and a couple of chocolate bars he’d included, the treats neatly arranged in front of them. It was simple, but everything looked perfect for a relaxing evening.

Harry chuckled as he poured them both a glass of sparkling water. “I know you like the little things, so I figured we’d go all out for the first time you’re free from that exam. You’re allowed to relax now, you know?”

Y/N laughed, reaching for a sandwich. “I think I could get used to this.”

They ate together, talking about everything and nothing. Harry teased her about her overthinking during the exam, saying that she’d probably over-prepared and knew more than half the people who’d be taking it with her. Y/N rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her.

Then they just laid on their blanket, picnic basket forgotten for now as they looked up at the night sky.

The sky above them was breathtakingly clear. The stars were scattered across the heavens like diamonds, twinkling in the vast blackness. The full moon bathed the landscape in silver, casting soft shadows on the grass around them.

She could feel the quiet comfort of his presence next to her, the warmth of his body next to hers despite the coolness of the air. There was no rush, no need to speak, just the shared silence between them, peaceful and full of unspoken understanding.

For a while, they didn’t say anything, just stared up at the stars. Harry’s hand, resting on the ground near hers, brushed lightly against her fingers, a casual touch that made Y/N’s heart flutter unexpectedly. She turned her head slightly, catching him glancing at her with a small, almost unreadable smile, before he returned his gaze to the sky.

“So many stars,” Harry said softly, his voice low and thoughtful. “It’s hard to believe how far away they all are.”

Y/N nodded, her gaze shifting to his profile. The soft glow from the moon casting shadows over his features.He looked so beautiful. She couldn’t help it—everything about this moment felt perfect. Harry, beside her, always there for her, always steady. 

It felt like the right moment, the perfect time to finally say the words she had been keeping in her heart for so long. Turning her head, she met his gaze. His eyes were soft, watching her with a curiosity that made her heart swell. “Do you know something, Harry?”

“What is it, love?”

“I love you.”

Finally, Harry smiled, a soft, affectionate grin, and he reached out, gently kissing her lips. “I know, silly. I love you too.”

She grinned, kissing him again. “It’s nice to hear you say it.”

“I’ll say it a thousand times for you, and more. I love you, I love you..”, he kept saying as he kissed every inch of her face and she giggled, knowing that this was just the start of something beautiful.

__________________________________________________

The echo of her footsteps rang through the hallways of the FBI building as Y/N hurried down the corridor, her heart racing in anticipation. The results of her detective exam had just been released, and the moment she saw the passing mark, she couldn’t waste another second. She needed to tell Harry. She needed him to know that all the late nights, the stress, and the pressure had finally paid off.

She passed.

Y/N smiled to herself, the excitement bubbling in her chest, but it quickly faded as she spotted Eliza and Ethan ahead. Her friends waved at her, but her focus was fixed only on one thing: finding Harry. She raised her hand in a quick, distracted greeting, but she couldn’t stop. Not now.

“Hey, Y/N!” Eliza called out, but she was already on the move, her footsteps quickening as she tried to get past them.

“What's the rush?” Ethan asked, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, we’ve gotta celebrate together—”

But Y/N was already a few paces ahead, not wanting to waste another second. “Later! I’ll catch up with you guys later!” she called over her shoulder, her mind racing toward the one place she needed to be: Harry’s office.

When she reached the door, she didn’t knock, instead pushing it open and stepping inside, breathless and flushed with excitement. Harry sat behind his desk, speaking into the phone, his posture relaxed but his attention fully on the conversation. His office was as immaculate as ever, the view from his window stretching out over the city. But for now, none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was the result of her exam.

She paused, standing there for a moment, waiting for him to notice her. Harry’s eyes flicked up at the sound of the door opening, and his smile bloomed instantly when he saw her. He waved her in, his gaze flickering with a mix of curiosity and affection.

“Hang on a second,” he said to the person on the other end of the call, a brief but polite interruption. “I’ll call you back in a bit,” he finished, ending the conversation and setting the phone down on his desk.

“Y/N,” he said, leaning back in his chair with an amused glint in his eyes. “What’s got you running in here like this?”

“I... I passed,” Y/N said, her voice breathless as she stepped into the office, her hands still trembling from the rush of nerves and excitement. “I passed the exam, Harry. I did it.”

Harry’s expression softened, his smile widening as he stood up from behind his desk, clearly just as thrilled as she was. “I knew you would,” he said, moving toward her with long strides.

Before she could say anything more, Y/N stepped forward, her arms wrapping around him in a tight, spontaneous hug. She felt his arms go around her immediately, pulling her close. For a moment, they stood there, simply holding each other, the quiet joy of the moment enveloping them. All the tension, all the uncertainty, it was gone. All that mattered was the accomplishment, the love and the shared happiness between them.

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him. Harry smiled down at her, his hand gently cupping her cheek. “I’m so proud of you, Y/N. I knew you had it in you.”

They had another minute of silence before Harry interrupted it.

“So,” he began, his voice low, “now that you’ve passed... you’ve still got to decide what comes next, right?”

She nods, pulling back. “That’s why I’m here.” She looked up at him with respect, and admiration. During her internship, being part of no other department gave her the rush like how she felt being part of the homicide department. That was where she wanted to work. The group of people she loved working with and she hoped she could bring a lot of cases to justice and just do her best. She would be working alongside Harry, if everything worked out. Her mentor. The one who had guided her, taught her, and believed in her from the very beginning.

“I’d like to join the homicide department, if you’d have me.”, she tells him.

Harry grins proudly. “I told you we would always be open to having you on board, y/n.” He extends his hand, professionally. “Welcome to the department, Detective Agent y/ln.”

She clasps his hand, smiling wide. “Thank you, Detective Agent Styles. Thank you for everything.”

________________________________________

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(Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist or if there is any changes! Please like and reblog if you liked this short two part series and I would love to hear some feedback too!)

[bloodydeanwinchester]

soooooo incheresting. i just watched a video that counted all the times dean said cas and castiel through out the series and it kept a count of the castiel's separate. he said castiel a total of 16 times throughout the whole series and SIX of those times were in season 6!!!! and every single one of those in season 6 was dean praying to him. which notably none of the other castiel's were part of a prayer. god dean is just like....pining for cas so hard in season 6 and after they stopped the apocalypse it's like castiel just drifted so far away from him and he got all powerful again and dean KNOWS that something is going on with him but cas is just keeping him at such a distance (because he's trying to protect him from everything going on with heaven's civil war). so suddenly when dean's praying even when he's making a joke of it (which is often) he's saying castiel instead of cas.

[renthedevil]

have jimmy on the brain so here's some doobles of an au that i've had in my brain for a hot minute :]

(au notes below)

STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS PLOT ABOUT THE AU

FEEL FREE TO STEAL THIS I'M NOT PLANNING ANYTHING WITH IT :D (and please keep in mind that i haven't seen everyones pov so some stuff is not cannon accurate lol) this is set in empire season 2 (around the time the rift open so we can have ranchers), with the empires 1 characters being a sort of greek pantheon(?) that pix is studying. Anyway- the codfather is supposed to be a god of the forsaken, forgotten ,and the damned who is either reincarnated as jim or is giving his power to jim cause he's deemed worthy of it. never quite worked out that part. so jim starts getting codfather features and is like 'o shit fish powers'. tumble town also starts turning into an oasis. he goes to the great witch shelby cause he thinks someone cursed him but she's like 'hm, no you somehow got ancient power somehow? let's go to pix and see if he knows anything about it.' then they go to pix who's all 'HOLY MOLY YOU GOT CODFATHER POWERS THAT EXPLAINS THE FLOODING-' turns out that other kingdoms (particularly anyone who makes fun of jim *cough cough* joel) are flooding really badly and nobody knew why. pix and shelby start working with jim to control his new abilities. they all agree to keep it on the down low but jim tells tango cause ranchers :] the whole thing comes to a head when joel finds out it's jim who's been (unintentionally) destroying his kingdom with floods and storms. he yells at jim about it and in turn jim goes absolutely ape shit- turns into a kaiju or smth and erases the very memory of joel from existence (or something like that) eventually they're able to calm him down steven universe future style. jim puts the memory of joel gets put back into existence and the two learn the importance of communication. yippee! happy ending for all!!

[motherofplatypus]

This fic is inspired by @solargeist post, and i wanna see how far i can go. This will be based on the aftermath of session 4.

Also i make a cat =(^ • w • ^)=

***

As stressful as it was having two teammates who endanger themselves more than they endanger others, Grian loves Mumbo and Skizz unconditionally...to some extent, at least.

Like, sure, with the Wild Card being a menace and Skizz's skill in making traps should be considered a war crime, Grian cares for them deeply throughout the day. Yes, only during daytime, because at night time, boy does the urge to blow them up in their sleep almost felt too tempting.

Mumbo and Skizz talked in their sleep. Like, literally talk and even almost having a full coherent conversation, even laughing as if they're making jokes. How does that happen is anyone's guess, but Grian, having the fourth night of his sleep being disturbed, had reached his breaking point.

He got three choices: 1) Blow his teammates up; 2) Sleep outside, or; 3) He'd rather deal with zombies than doing Option 3.

Option 1 is tempting, but he's green, he can't kill. Option 2 is worth the risk, but getting shot by a skeleton every time he tried to sleep isn't a viable option either.

Like, he could just suck it up and force himself to sleep and be sleep deprived in the morning, but he's too petty for that.

So, option 3 it is, and he despise every moment of it.

He went over the bridge and climbed up the stairs. The three parrot statues looked menacing under the moonlight, as if telling him to turn back. Grian would love to, but at night, there's not really any place for him.

He reached the top of the mountain, the base for the Bamboozler. The place was dimly lit, but just enough to keep the mobs from spawning. He saw Jimmy and Lizzie sleeping on their bed, quite far away from one another, busy with their own dream.

Not far away from them was another bed, occupied by the last person Grian wanted to see tonight, and that same person was the one Grian approached.

Grian didn't bother to wake Scar up first. He lifted the blanket and set himself on the small bed. It creaked as Grian laid himself there, with his back facing Scar.

It's just for tonight, Grian thought to himself.

He changed position a bit and his back brushed against Scar's back, and he shuddered immediately. The pain from the arrow that pierced his back appeared once more like a ghost. Being stabbed in the back.

Betrayed.

Grian found himself shivered. He never had problems being stabbed in the back, being betrayed, or being killed. But to be killed like that by Scar? The one person he trusted would kill him in a grandiose way, and not the cheap, underhanded way? It stung his heart so deep it hurts.

It's not that he couldn't forgive, but it's not like he could trust him either now. For all he knows, Scar could wake up and stabbed him again right now to take a life from him.

Betrayed, that feeling has been engraved in his heart.

But then an arm wrapped around him, pulling him closer to the body behind him. The smell of fresh bamboo filled his lung, an like a drug, it calmed him down.

Soft breathing sound on his ear, quietly speaking to him. I'm sorry, said the silence.

There are words hanging by Grian's mouth. Curses, anger, sadness, all but at the tip of his tongue. And yet, even with his mouth slightly opened, there's nothing that came out but a sigh that relaxed him further, as he put his hand on that arm that holds him close.

When the daylight came, he may not be able to trust him again. But for now, he sleeps in the safety he's familiar with.

[sluttyten]

I was working on a new fic that I was really looking forward to, but in light of recent revelations, I'm gonna be taking a step back I think

also i removed him from the member masterlist and all of his fics, excluding things like YIMA and the poly series which I'm considering re-editing to get rid of him

[woollenjumper]

hello? what's this?? a show that combines sherlock-style cryptic puzzles with creative murders, identity theft, and also comes served with a healthy sprinkling of comedy? starring WILTY's very own david mitchell as an endearing, bumbling, brilliant detective?

ohhhh dear.... this ticks so many of my boxes.... ohhhh no....

trying not to obsess over this potential new pathetic blorbo nice character who is just trying his best.

[actual-changeling]

do you think agatha used magic to create nicky's grave or did she dig it with her own two hands—born and buried from scratch?

did she bury her fingers in the ground over and over, fingers that had been running through his hair, braiding flowers into it, hands that had held him for too short a time? did she dig and dig until her nails were black with dirt—life-giving soil, graveyard earth, death spread through it like roots, like an infection.

like something she loved once upon a time and can still feel festering within her chest, a wound she refuses to stitch back together.

agatha sees her loves in the flowers sprouting around her as she digs and digs and digs; at some point, she begins to sing. her words come broken and low, gaining weight with every handful of earth cast aside. following his melody, she weaves a spell, a place, an embrace to hold him now that she is forbidden from it. no one will disturb his rest, no one will ever stumble upon his body surrounded by reaching roots that carry the pain of death herself.

lowering him into his grave is not the first admission that he has always been a child of two, but it is the last one for a very, very long while.

agatha sings and imagines two arms breaking through the earth and gently carrying him to another home.

when his grave, his tomb, his stone-soft blooming altar, is complete she washes her hands with river water like she had done five years ago. every act that follows, every betrayal, every bloodless death keeps her palms clean, her skin untainted by anyone or anything lest the memory of him is disturbed.

agatha digs nicky's grave with her own hands until her nails break and her voice is raw. she places the last stone and tears her ribcage open, allowing everything good she had been to sicker into the earth that is her family.

[madaqueue]

What the Books Don't Teach You

pairing: ryomen sukuna x f!reader

themes/content: dark content. dubcon. language, smut. name calling (slut, whore), hair pulling, choking, orgasm denial, fingering, sex. 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.5k

a/n: i'm so sorry if this is the first thing of mine you're reading or if you followed me for cute content AH it's dark and intense but i am such a sukuna apologist :'/ forgive me (also i know this isn't perfectly canon with the name stuff but shh)

The library is dim, illuminated only by the flickering candles that surround your workspace. Books upon books, pages of notebooks sprawled around you, trying to uncover anything you can about the curse that has plagued your best friend Yuji.

It’s been months since Sukuna first appeared. At first he was easy to contain, surely owed to Yuji’s strong willpower, his need for nonmaleficence. But as he consumed more he grew increasingly powerful, a dark presence that constantly hid around the corners of his mind. Yuji could sense it, too - there would be moments, barely just flashes at first, where it’s like he wasn’t there. You’d be talking to him and his eyes would glaze over, the ever-present grin on his face dropping slightly. “Sorry,” he’d mutter sheepishly as returned to himself, “what were you saying?”

Inside his mind, you knew what was happening: Yuji was talking to him. The “King of Curses,” a title he demanded to be called, one that you refused to use whenever you were forced to acknowledge his presence. You’ve seen him kill over the name when it was not honored, yet you would rather die at his hand than utter an ounce of respect to him.

As time went on, Sukuna appeared more and more often, a fact that every Jujutsu sorcerer desperately tried to ignore. When he did appear, the man was cruel, selfish, and sadistic. He taunted those he knew to be weaker than himself and purposely placed himself in harm’s way to prove his own strength. He left a path of destruction and desecration in his wake, forcing Yuji to clean up the pieces.

Sukuna had ruined Yuji’s life, and you couldn’t stand by and let your friend suffer under the weight of the curse for any longer. You began sneaking out of your room every night to the library, trying to collect any information on how to rid him from existence. It didn’t matter if he had to be exorcised or killed, so long as he relinquished control of Yuji.

Unfortunately, information was sparse. In the weeks you’ve been searching you haven't even been able to find the source of Sukuna’s cursed energy, let alone how to eliminate it. As your eyes skim the pages of text in front of you, something catches your eye:

‘Ryomen Sukuna holds a true form unlike any other. He is a demon, with four arms, two faces, and an additional mouth on his torso. This grants him inhuman strength and senses.’

Okay, you think, now we’re getting somewhere. Learning his appearance can give you insight into his strengths and, hopefully, his weaknesses.

As you begin copying the notes onto the paper next to you, the candlelight flickers.

A low laugh echoes through the room. “What are you doing in here all by yourself, little sorcerer?” The deep voice makes your blood run cold. As you start to turn towards the source of the sound in the doorway, a tattooed hand grabs your cheeks and holds your head in place. Another hand appears on your waist, digging into your skin with sharp black nails.

Shit.

Sukuna’s presence suddenly becomes overwhelming, his body pressing against your back, heat radiating off of his bare chest. You still can’t see him, but his cursed energy is unmistakable.

Your mind races as you feel panic setting in. How did he find you in here? How did you miss him entering the room? How did he take over Yuji’s body this time?

Another laugh erupts from his lips. “Aw, are you reading about me, little one? How adorable,” his voice dripping with fake sweetness.

“Su-” you start before he tightens his grip on your face.

“I didn’t say you could speak, now did I?” he rumbles. “You really should learn some manners. Besides, I know you’re aware that I don’t much care for that name.” A chill shoots up your body as you try to steady your breathing. His hold on you never wavers as he shifts so his mouth is next to your ear. “But lucky for you, I’m feeling quite forgiving tonight,” he whispers, breath hot on your skin.

Your face flushes at his words as your heart races in your chest. At first you think it’s just fear coursing through your body, until you notice a dull ache between your legs.

No. No. No. This is not happening.

His deep voice pulls you out of your spiraling thoughts as he places his head on your shoulder, looking down at the open books in front of you. “Ah, I see you were just starting to learn about my true form. I was glorious, you know. This fucking brat is nothing compared to what I once was,” he spits, mentally gesturing at Yuji’s body. “Fortunately, I was able to take one piece of my old body with me.” Before you can ask, you feel a tongue suddenly slide against your lips.

The feeling makes you jump in your seat, Sukuna’s hold tightening on you. Another laugh booms through the room as your eyes glance down to see a mouth formed on the palm that grips your face. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it, woman. I’ve seen the way you stare at the brat, just think of me like him, but better,” he smirks.

He was right - you had caught Sukuna’s eyes staring at you whenever you stole glances at Yuji out of the corner of your eye, but it was nothing serious. The poor boy already had enough going on with this curse, you couldn’t bring yourself to add to his stress by confessing how you feel.

This fucking curse.

“For what it’s worth,” he continues, “I have taken quite an interest in you myself. Don’t think I don’t notice when you purposely drop something just to bend over, or when you wear those tight shreds of cloth you could barely call a uniform. You fucking tease,” he growls.

The space between your legs throbs at the low vibration of his voice against you. What is happening? Is he doing this to you?

As if he hears your thoughts, he speaks again. “I know you’ve thought about it too, there’s no need to be so proud. Before I was stuck in this brat’s body I had whores like you lining up for me every day, not because I made them, but because they wanted me.” He pauses, using the silence to lick up your neck and bite at your ear. “And I have a feeling you want me, too.”

Fuck. His words have your knees weak and pussy throbbing. You’re grateful to be sitting down, otherwise you know you’d be visibly shaking, no longer from fear. 

Suddenly the hand on your waist loosens, but instead of releasing you, he drags it down between your legs. His nails scratch softly against the skin of your thigh, bare beneath your skirt. His fingers reach your clothed cunt, and from his soft chuckle you can tell you have soaked through your panties.

“I knew it,” he mutters, tracing up your covered folds. The feeling forces a soft moan out of your mouth and you feel Sukuna’s lips curl into a grin against your neck. “Say it, little sorcerer. Say you want me.”

You gather every ounce of restraint left in your body to answer. “N-no,” your voice waivers.

Your response seems to amuse him as he practically giggles into your ear. The hand that previously held your face drops down to your neck as he squeezes your airway closed. “And here I thought Jujutsu sorcerers were supposed to be some noble, honest breed. But I guess some of them can be lying whores, huh?”

With that, he grabs you and throws you against the desk, your chest hitting the dark wood with a hollow thud. Your hands land under you as you try to brace yourself against the sudden impact and Sukuna takes the opportunity to yank your skirt down your legs, throwing it across the room. You yelp as a hand crashes against your thigh, pulling you back towards him. He presses his hips against you, feeling the bulge growing through the black sweatpants Yuji must have been wearing to bed. “See, my cock knows it wants you. Even I can be honest, so what’s stopping you?” he growls. He grinds himself slowly against you, the pressure against your needy cunt driving you insane. “I know this pussy wants me, just admit it,” he sneers.

“I-” you try to start again before Sukuna shoves the side of your head down against the desk, your cheek hot against the cold wood.

“The next words out of your mouth better be the truth, or I won’t hesitate to kill you,” he rasps into your ear.

Think, think, think. How can you get out of this? What can you say to appease the man - no, the curse - that’s currently pinning you down?

As you’re trying to think of a way out of your current situation, he thrusts his hips up against you. The action, still done through two layers of cloth, forces another moan out of you.

Fuck, that feels good.

“I…I want you,” you whisper, the words leaving your lips before you can realize what you’ve said.

“Louder,” he commands.

“I want you,” you whine. “Please, Sukuna, please.”

Boisterous laughter fills the empty room again. Leaning back over you, he whispers into your ear. “Was that so hard?”

He steps back behind you, suddenly ripping your now-drenched panties into shreds, making you gasp as the cold air hits your heat. Finally free from the hold he had on your head, you turn your body slightly to look at him for the first time. In the candlelight, he looks haunting - tattoos outline the contours of his body, covering his face, arms, and chest, the flickering light casting shadows across the hollows of his scarlet eyes that are currently focused between your legs.

Sensing your gaze on him, he smirks. “Admire it while you can,” he says while lowering the waistband of his sweatpants to release his fully erect cock, a drip of precum leaking from the tip reflecting in the dim light. “Liars don’t get to watch while I fuck you.”

His arm shoots up to the back of your neck, pushing your face back down against the desk. The other goes to your pussy as he shoves two fingers roughly inside of you. Before you can even process the new sensation, you feel a tongue form on his hand and begin lapping up your folds. “F-fuck!” you scream, pressure suddenly forming in your stomach.

“So close already?” Sukuna chuckles from behind you. “I’ve barely even touched you, you needy little thing. Must’ve been waiting for this for a while, hmm?” he purrs. Your back involuntarily arches as your legs begin to shake. Right as you feel yourself approaching the edge of an orgasm, his hand pulls away from you. “Not so fast. You still have to learn some manners, remember?”

The hand that was previously on your neck moves to grab a fistful of your hair as the other grabs your waist, pulling your ass up into the air. You hear him adjusting himself behind you and your eyes widen as you feel the tip of his cock press against your entrance.

“Now, say my name, whore,” he barks at you.

“Sukuna-” you whimper.

“No.” He yanks your hair, pulling your head off the table.

You hesitate. You know what he’s asking for, but you also know you vowed to never, ever call him that.

“Say it,” he commands, voice stern.

As you contemplate your next words, Sukuna slowly starts sliding his cock inside of you. The sensation of your walls stretching around him, a mix of pain and pleasure, makes you whimper. 

Something in you needed more, and you only knew one way to get it. Fuck.

You take in a shaky breath, knowing what your brain has to do to get your body what it wants. “K-king…King of Curses.” Your voice waivers as the title leaves your mouth.

He smiles. “Good little sorcerer,” he hums. Suddenly, the hand on your hip grips you hard enough you can almost feel his nails breaking skin. He thrusts his hips forward, forcing the rest of his length inside you. Sukuna grunts as he enters you, relishing in the tight, warm grip you have around him. He pulls out of you before roughly shoving back in, tears welling in your eyes from sheer pleasure.

Pulling your hair further, he brings your body flush with his. “Now,” he growls into your ear, “let’s see if you can behave well enough to cum on my cock.”

The words alone have you dizzy, pussy clenching around him. You want to open your mouth, you want to scream, beg, do anything for him to let you finish, but something tells you to wait. He continues to pull out and thrust back in, his hips circling in rough, imprecise motions. The wet sounds of him pumping in and out of you fill the air, the noise so lewd you pray no one else happens to be walking past the library. You feel so full, his cock splitting you in half, and you still want more.

“Well?” he questions, breaking your silence. “Aren’t you going to ask?”

“You…you didn’t say I could speak,” you respond meekly, trying to hold yourself together as he continues to thrust into you. Skin on skin, the sounds of his balls slapping against you, pelvis ramming against your ass, echoes through the room.

Once again, he laughs. “What a surprise, you really did learn your manners. What a well-trained slut you are,” he hums. You feel your core tighten again at his words. “For behaving so well, I’ll let you cum.”

Upon hearing his permission, something inside of you snaps. You throw your head back, moaning, as you tilt your hips to take him even farther inside of you. His tip pushes into that sweet spot, bringing you closer and closer to your release.

Finally, it hits. Your eyes roll back into your head, your mouth opens as a sound, somewhere between a scream and a groan, escapes your lips. The pain, the pleasure, the everything of Sukuna’s cock surges inside of you. He never relents, never slows, as your pussy twitches around him. Your legs give out and he releases your hair, letting your body drop to the desk beneath you.

Your head spins, vision clouded as you lay on the table. The first thing you feel is Sukuna pulling out of you and you whine at the empty feeling you’re left with. He walks toward you and leans over, face to face with him for the first time, his red eyes burning into yours.

“And that, little sorcerer, is why you can’t learn everything about me from a book,” his voice low. All you can do is stare at him, eyes glazed over. “Maybe next time you’ll earn my cum, if you can remember how to behave,” he smirks.

Without another word, he tucks his still hard cock under the waistband of his sweatpants and turns to walk away, presumably back to Yuji’s room. You’re left in the dimly lit library, panting, aching.

You may not know much about Sukuna, certainly not from your reading, but you do know one thing: you need more of him.

[rayan12sworld]

💠💙Menace, to headache, to…nephew in law?

By:Nyatci

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43791591

Summary:

Lan Qiren decides to supervise Wei Wuxian’s punishment himself. While doing so they come across a mysterious orb that seems to show them visions of the future.

—————

Alternatively: the fic in which Lan Qiren suffers, sees the future and suffers some more. He also gets drunk. Shenanigans ensue.

Menace to headache to…nephew in law?

‘Wangji !’ He thinks in despair, ‘I’ve seen visual representation of the depravity of your thoughts and what those red ears mean! Go copy virtue a thousand times!’ But he remains quiet. After all, any mention about what they had witnessed would make people think them mad.

~~

Lan Wangji’s gaze lingers on Wei Wuxian longer than is proper and the Yungmeng Jiang head disciple flushes again! Right in front of Lan Qiren!

~~

He almost sputters at those words! “Boy what on earth are you saying now?” He asks for Wei Wuxian to answer with a shrug. “I don’t want to be a mistake for him to make” the boy says softly and Lan Qiren wants to strangle somebody. Maybe he can get Xichen to copy Conduct as Wangji copies Virtue. Yes, that seems reasonable to him in order to avoid future disasters.

~~

He wants to take back his earlier thoughts about Wei Wuxian’s intelligence. The boy is oblivious to a degree that should be criminal. “Wei Wuxian,” he says, “men who are not attracted to other men don’t think them ‘beautiful’ or ‘perfect’!” He exclaims and before the boy can sputter a response Lan Qiren opens a jar of wine and chugs it much like Wei Wuxian had done moments before.

[gothamite-rambler]

How Barbara thinks she looked dancing:

And

How she actually danced before the accident

And

Groups reactions after seeing a video of her old dancing:

Dick: How did you have like no butt?

Jason (trying not to laugh): No, come on... She's trying. That's all that matters.

Duke: I love the circle dance the most. You look like a duck with no tail.

Barbara: Bruce got me at bad moments. I can pop and lock it like any of you!

Damian: CDs didn't exist when you were a kid did they?

Barbara: Dick is only like three years younger than me. He's just as old.

Dick (relaxed): I look good for my age.

Barbara: I guarantee after a few more sessions in physical therapy I'll show you my dancing!

Cass (joking as well): I thought we were family Babs.

Barbara: Et tu, Cass? Okay Bruce show them how you used to dance and how you did those stupid peace signs while dancing.

Bruce (eager): Yes! Finally! I have no shame they can see me dance!

Stephanie (crossing her legs): Let me get comfortable.