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Rosalind Dyer was dead, yet her shadow lingered for Lucy. Avoiding news at home, she relied on work updates, dreading the constant reminders. She didn’t even try to turn on the radio on her way to work, knowing it would be the same— her music playlist was her new companion. But even if she avoided all those things, she couldn’t avoid the way people looked at her at the station whenever someone mentioned the case, or the worst of all, the fact that she had been called to testify one last time about her crimes.

Even in death, she was still making Lucy think about her.

Lucy did her best not to let it get to her head. She had worked through the trauma; she was calm and collected even in the worst undercover missions, but the memories were there with her, in the tattoo she kept under her clothes, in the loud noises when she was alone and distracted. Some things could never be fully forgotten—and she had to learn to live with that. Lucy thought she hid her feelings well, believing no one noticed her struggle, but Tim saw through her.

Tim was the one person who could see through Lucy. The one who was silently looking for any sign that would let him know that she wasn’t okay. Especially after everything that happened. Every time he saw her tattoo, especially the first time she let him see her body, he had to ignore the feeling of guilt that sometimes followed him around. Even if it wasn’t his fault—something that he learned to accept—he wished he could take it away.

And now, he was aware of how Rosalind’s and Caleb’s presence was once again haunting Lucy like her own personal ghosts.

It was court day. Lucy made sure to tell everyone—especially Tim and Tamara—that they didn’t need to go and that she was okay, which they both knew was not true.

Tim asked Grey to give him the day free so he could go support Lucy, to which he agreed instantly. Lucy was loved by the people at the station—almost everyone, at least—and now that her relationship with Tim was out in the open he was free to show his concern to Grey. Even if he hated looking vulnerable, he did it for Lucy.

He had picked Tamara up from her new apartment, and after gathering Lucy’s favorite snacks and coffee, they headed to the courthouse. Tim and Tamara bonded over their love for Lucy, Tim quietly seeing her as a daughter, though he kept that thought unspoken.

The ride was quiet, but it wasn’t awkward. Tamara stole the control of the radio and started singing her favorite songs. Tim complained—jokingly— just to annoy her, but he didn’t stop her. It was just a small moment in which they could both focus on something other than not being there on time for Lucy.

When they arrived at the courthouse and headed to the courtroom where the hearing was held, they couldn’t find Lucy. Tim immediately worried, asking the rest of the officers present if they had seen her. Most of the answers were that she had mentioned going to the bathroom.

Tamara headed there while Tim asked more questions, the snacks forgotten on the bench she had selected to sit in. Tim couldn’t stay still, walking towards the bathroom to wait for Tamara to tell him to come in, but before he could even get there, a text from her saying that Lucy wasn’t in the bathroom arrived. He told Tamara to go back to the room and wait there just in case, and he ran to look at every possible place he could look for Lucy.

It took him longer than he had liked to find her, entering random courtrooms and interrupting—mistakenly—hearings, only to apologize and do that all over again with another judge. He was sure that some would recognize him and complain about his behavior later, but he didn’t care.

Courtrooms, bathrooms—nothing. Then, under the staircase, he saw Lucy, curled up, hugging her knees. His heart broke as he sank beside her, wrapping her in his arms.

Lucy flinched for a second, but when she realized that it was Tim, she physically relaxed, a quiet sob escaping her lips as he moved to sit on his lap and wrap herself around him. Her safe place.

“I told you that you didn’t need to come,” she said after a moment of quiet, voice soft and not reproaching him. She was glad that he was there. “You know I never follow instructions,” he smiled softly at her, not wanting to overwhelm her with his feelings and just letting that moment be about her.

“You are safe, you know? I am here. Tamara is here. We are here for you.” He added, fingers brushing against her hair to bring her some extra comfort. Lucy looked at him with confused eyes at the mention of Tamara. She was at college, not there. “Tamara?” She asked, part of her already thinking about telling her that skipping classes is not ideal.

“Yes, and we have coffee and those terrible gummies you love,” he wrinkled his nose to add to his disgusted expression, which made Lucy laugh, tension easing. “Oh, yes, so terrible that you never steal more than half of the bag when I bring them with me.” She rolled her eyes with a smile when Tim gave her his ‘I’ve been caught’ look. He was adorable.

“You didn’t have to do this. None of you.”

Her smile faded, her expression serious, wanting him to know she meant it. He was missing work, and Tamara was missing school. It was not worth it—in her mind.

“Yes, we did. For you. You are important, and you’ll never be alone when you have us.”

“I love you, Tim.” Her eyes were bright and full of tears. She was grateful for him, for his presence and worry. And for Tamara. Her kid. It was perfect—so perfect it made her forget her anxiety of before for a moment.

“Let’s get some snacks then, the sooner I do this, the sooner we can all go for a nice lunch.” Lucy stood up and reached for Tim’s hand to pull him up. She hugged him quickly, before she pulled him into the courtroom she was supposed to be almost half an hour ago.

The anxiety was still there when she finally got to testify, the memories flooding her mind once again, but now she had Tim and Tamara there, her anchors. If anything went wrong, she had them. She would be okay.

Tag list: @loganwritesprobably @fanaticsnail @skullfacedlady @mermaniaa @decaffeinatedscreaming

“Kneel for me,” was all you needed to say before Nanami was slowly getting down on his knees, his eyes never leaving yours, with anticipation written all over his face.

For anyone else, Nanami was a strong man, stuck in his ways, focused, and disciplined. He had techniques that could destroy curses in the blink of an eye; he was someone that people looked up to. But behind closed doors, you could see the other side of him. The side that he only showed you. All that power was gone whenever he saw you, and he was under your spell.

He had the strength to fight you—you weren’t nearly as powerful as him yet—but he didn’t try. Especially not after getting home from work and needing to forget all about it. You were the best at that. His focus was on you and you only; he was at your mercy. And you loved every second of it. Knowing that one of the strongest sorcerers was willing to kneel for you, let you do whatever you wanted to him, that was the power you craved the most.

You leaned down to grab his chin and give him a quick kiss, “good boy,” you whispered after, pulling back to look at him and the way his body moved forward—a signal that he wanted more.

“While you were out, I bought something—” you started moving around the room, pulling out of a bag the item you had been waiting to use on him all day long. Red rope, “do not damage it with your energy. I like the color.” You warned him, raised a brow as he looked at you and the rope with excitement. You could see the bulge growing inside his underwear just from the thought of what might happen, and that brought you even more satisfaction. “I won’t, promise.” His voice wasn’t as strong or demanding as usual. It was the tone he reserved only for these moments. Compliant. Soft.

His shirt was already off, nothing but his underwear remaining to cover him, while you were still fully clothed. “Hands behind your back—” he obeyed immediately, and you moved accordingly, tying his hands behind him, ensuring the hold was strong but not too tight to hurt—“you look so pretty like this. Just for me.” You walked around him like a cat stalking its prey.

“Ple… please,” he said, looking at you and wiggling in his place. “Please, what?” you asked in response, “use your words, baby.” “I need you, please.” He said in almost a whimper. Discipline and control vanished, surrendered entirely to you.

You undressed in front of him, taking your time with each item so the man before you could enjoy the view, tension building between you two. Then you sat on the edge of the bed, legs wide open for him to see you. “Go on then, suck.” Nanami didn’t waste any time as he moved closer, still on his knees, until he was positioned between your thighs. Slowly, he started kissing your inner thighs as if he was worshipping every inch of skin he could touch. “Kento,” you breathed, every kiss lighting your skin on fire. The praise encouraged him to keep going, each kiss higher, closer to where you needed him most. You were desperate for more by the time he got there, his careful licks and sucks targeting all the spots he knew would drive you crazy. Your eyes threatened to close at the feeling, but you forced them open to look at the man between your legs, desperately taking anything you’d give him, arms straining from his impulse to move them and touch you. It was a beautiful sight.

Your hand went to his hair, which you pulled on to get him to continue. Tightness was building inside your stomach with every one of Nanami’s moves. “That’s my good boy,” you said with a moan, a compliment that made him whimper. He undeniably loved the praise and wanted to make sure that he was worthy of it.

It didn’t take long for your orgasm to wash over you, accompanied by a loud moan and praises for the man who made sure you felt that good. “That’s it, my baby,” your voice cracked as you tried to breathe steady, but you never missed an opportunity to praise him.

Nanami didn’t move, resting his head on your thigh as he waited for you, patiently, kissing the skin softly and not saying a word. This was all on you, no matter how much he needed to be touched or to touch you.

Your hand moved against his hair, caressing him with soft touches while you regained your composure and grabbed his chin to pull him up for a kiss. A whine escaped his mouth as you kissed him, showing you how much he wanted you, and you responded by deepening the kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. Your hands moved around Nanami’s waist to undo the restraints you’d placed earlier, freeing him to touch you. And still, he didn’t do anything until you gave him the order.

“Fuck me, baby, you earned it.” You pulled back just enough to say that, and without a moment of hesitation, his hands were pulling his precum-stained underwear down and moving to lie on top of you. Your eyes remained glued to his as your hand travelled down to his cock, stroking it a few times just to hear the sounds he made for you. He felt like he was losing his mind, and he loved every second of it. “Please,” he begged, not knowing what he was begging for, but you did. You guided his cock to your hole. Nanami’s mouth on you had left you ready and wanting for more. “Go, baby, I’m all yours.” He didn’t need to hear more before he was sinking himself inside you.

Your night didn’t end there; you needed him just as much as he needed you. You both complemented each other well in that aspect—in any aspect.

“I love you,” he whispered before you both closed your eyes to sleep. Cuddles and soft kisses had followed the intense moments, as well as helping him clean himself and making sure you both got a snack. And now both of you were content and sleepy.

“I love you too, my boy.”

Tag list: @loganwritesprobably @fanaticsnail @skullfacedlady @mermaniaa @decaffeinatedscreaming

Dinner had felt weird without your presence there. Robin had noticed immediately that you hadn’t left the room when Sanji called out to eat. She had asked Sanji if you had told him anything about it, but he had said no after a long list of compliments he had given to her. No one else seemed to comment on it, mainly because the guys were too busy eating, and Nami was focused on the map she was updating after they visited the last island. Whenever they left a place, her free times would continuously consumed by her drawings as if nothing else mattered.

A small frown on Robin's forehead accompanied her throughout dinner, until she was done and decided she was going to find go see you.

Before Robin had left the kitchen, Sanji had mentioned that your plate was ready if she wanted to bring you the food, just in case you were hungry. And with a thank you and a few extra hands that she made appear to grab the plates and your drink, Robin left the kitchen and headed for the bedroom chambers.

Across the bed, the book you’d pushed away in frustration seemed to mock your inability to understand its codes.It wasn’t that you couldn’t read, you absolutely could, it was just that the book was written in codes.

Ones that only Robin was able to understand, but you had been practicing, studying the books and notebooks she shared with you— all because you wanted to impress her.

And now, you felt like a failure.

Your head dropped against the pillow, followed with a frustrated sigh, a hand covering your face as if that could hide you from the world. You were trying so hard, even if you knew that Robin would tell you that you didn't need to do that, but it's something that you had set yourself up for. And you were going to succeed one way or another.

After a moment of self-pity, you had sat down once again with the book opened and resting on top of your legs, decided to keep going. You had been so focused that you never heard Sanji calling out for dinner or when Robin opened the door to look for you.

Robin had figured out where you were without having to search all over the ship. She knew you better than anyone else, enough to know that you rarely skipped meals. It was one of your favorite parts of the day, not for the food itself, but for the moment in which everyone was gathered together, without fighting or complaining about anything, just enjoying the company of each other— unless something had happened, then there was definitely drama.

Only two reasons you would skip a meal for were: you had fallen asleep, or you didn't feel well. She certainly hoped it wasn't the second one. She hated seeing you sick.

But what Robin hadn’t considered in her equations was that you skipped a meal because of a book—correction, because of her book.

When she opened the door to your bedroom, she saw you sitting on her bed, staring at the page of the book as if it had personally offended you.

Robin's first thought was that you looked adorable. The rest of her thoughts were questions about what you were doing. You hadn’t seemed to notice her as she walked in— too lost in the book to look up.

Robin closed the door, her extra hands setting the plate down on the nightstand next to you. Her throat-clearing startled you, making you jolt and hit your head on the bunk. “Ow,” you said, a hand moving to gently rub the spot you hit and the other quickly pushed the book behind you to hide it.

“Oh, baby, I didn't mean to scare you,” Robin's soft voice was followed by a soft chuckle. She wasn't laughing at you getting hurt, just at the way you had reacted when you saw her. As if you could hide something from her. “You missed dinner, I was worried.”

Your hand was still on your head, massaging the spot softly when it was suddenly replaced by a hand that appeared next to you to continue with the action. You knew how Robin's devil fruit worked, but every time she used it, especially with you, you were always in awe.

“I missed dinner?” You asked, looking up at her and then at the plate that rested in the nightstand next to you. “I didn't hear Sanji calling, thank you, flower,” you called her by one of your favorite nicknames for her. Your flower girl.

Robin smiled at you softly, walking closer to you so she could take a seat on the bed with you. “You don't need to thank me, silly, you need food,” her words were followed by her leaning to kiss your cheek, and then her hand reached for the book behind you. “Now, what do we have here?” Her curious tone was mixed with a hint of playfulness, knowing exactly what the book was.

“I—” you started, trying to find a way to explain what you were doing with it, but no excuse was good enough. You had to tell the truth, “I was… trying to understand it. So I could surprise you.”

Robin had expected anything, except that. “Surprise me?” She looked at you with bright and curious eyes, “why do you want to surprise me?”

Your face warmed up as you felt the blush rushing from your neck to your cheeks, “because you are so smart. You are a scholar, the one that can read mystery languages, understand clues that no one else sees. Because I want to be half as good as you are, and worthy of you.” The last part made you look away, embarrassed of admitting it, but Robin didn't accept that, her hand was quickly cupping your cheek and making you turn your head again to look at her.

“My darling, you don't need any of those things to surprise me. I love you for how you are and the things you do. You don't need to do anything else, not for me” Her face moved closer and she pressed your foreheads together, Robin needed you to know you meant every word.

“But I would like to, I want to share more things with you,” you whispered, brushing your nose against hers. It was easier to admit now that it was all out in the open. In the safety of your shared bedroom, only the two of you.

“Then, let me teach you, my little scholar,” Robin smiled widely before she tipped her face to the side to steal a kiss from you. You were quick to kiss her back, never getting enough of her. Of her kisses and patience she had for you. “For the record, I said I'd teach you the language, not how to kiss,” Robin joked as you two pulled away, and giggled when you jokingly pushed her shoulder.

“For the record, I said I'd teach you the language, not how to kiss,” Robin joked as you two pulled away, and giggled when you jokingly pushed her shoulder.

“Maybe you can teach me both things, flower.”

“That sounds like a better plan, darling,” she replied.

That night, after you had finished your meal, Robin and you sat on her bed while she read the book for you. She explained what the symbols around it meant, what she had learned from other books, and even shared things that didn't really belong to that book, but that she found interesting.

You listened to her for hours—not missing any details— as if it was the most beautiful sound that you could hear.

And for you, it was.

Tag list: @loganwritesprobably @fanaticsnail @mermaniaa @skullfacedlady @decaffeinatedscreaming

Living in two different apartments had been fine for a while, especially when you and JJ were just getting to know each other, but now? That just seemed like the worst idea.

The more you got to know each other, the more you both wanted to share each other's space. It was already hard enough when you both had to be away from each other due to JJ's unpredictable schedule, so you didn't want to miss any chance you could get to be with her when she was actually there.

You loved being able to wake up and see her laying next to you, her arms always close enough to touch you, as if she wanted to know—even in her sleep—that you were there and you were safe. It was one of the reasons you had fallen in love with her.

The next step had been obvious, moving in together so you didn't have to worry about missing each other.

It should've been a simple task, one of you taking their stuff and moving it to the other's apartment, but you both decided to make it complicated.

You chose a new apartment, symbolizing a fresh start for your relationship, of your life together. You had chosen the perfect place, it wasn't huge, but it was ideal for the both of you.

One thing made the move exhausting: hauling all the furniture into your new place. Choosing what to keep and where to put it—and especially—lifting all the heavy things you both had.

JJ insisted the move would be simple. She took two vacation days to pack and decide with you what to keep or sell. Over two days, one in each apartment, you sipped wine, laughing and reminiscing over shared items and moments, your bond growing stronger.

There weren't any fights or issues over the items. You knew that things were replaceable. It was the idea of having a place together that would make it all worth it. And even then, you could always buy things together that were perfect for the new space.

The two days had gone by way faster than you had expected, which meant that you were going to finish all the packing on your own—or so you thought. Instead, JJ surprised you by asking Hotch for more days so you could finish moving into the new apartment.

Hotch was too nice, you thought, he agreed and said that the only condition was that he needed to be invited over for dinner once the place was done. It was an easy ask, especially since you enjoyed the company of JJ's work friends and bosses.

Her presence moved things along fast, and soon enough you had the truck ready and full of your things to drive them to your new home. You had needed to ask for help to lift the heavier things, such as the fridge, but the rest had been a job between you and your girlfriend. It was nice, even if it was exhausting.

The different rooms at the new apartment were slowly getting full of your things. Pictures, paintings, little tokens that you had for decoration.

The place wasn't empty anymore, and it felt nice. To be able to walk inside a place that you knew wasn't just yours, that it was for you and your girlfriend to share and live in. It made your heart flutter.

The last room to be done was your bedroom. JJ had mentioned that it was the one place she didn't want random people walking in and moving your things. She wanted it to be something that was yours alone— and you couldn't say no to those words.

Although, you were regretting that now.

“This is not fair. You're stronger,” you grunted as you tried to push inside the room a big drawer.

JJ was inside the room finishing the bed. She had taken care of it with ease, carrying your mattress as if it weighed just a little.

You couldn't lie and say you didn't find that hot. The way her shirt got tight around her arms when she flexed her muscles to lift things, or the way she did things effortlessly and always willing to help you when you struggled with something too heavy. She was hot.

Your face was flushed, not only because of the heat and sweat from the move, but because you felt your cheeks warm every time you saw her, even now after dating for so long.

Suddenly the drawer was moving faster and you felt it lighter. Without looking to the other side you knew that it was her helping you to place it in the right spot.

“See, it wasn't too bad,” Jennifer said as she walked over to you once you were done with that and leaned to give you a quick kiss.

“Because you helped me,” you replied with a small smile, face warming all over again, eyes full of love as you kept talking, “my strong girl.”

You grabbed her hand to keep her close for a second and pulled her in to kiss her one more time. “Not complaining, though, you look so hot when you lift things.” You couldn’t help admitting it, and JJ’s laugh suggested she knew you’d been admiring her. Dammed profilers.

“You mean the way you stop and stare every time I walk into the room with anything on my hands?” She asked with a smirk, lifting her brow. “I saw you.”

“You never miss anything, huh,” you giggled, hand moving to cover your face, faking embarrassment.

“Of course not, baby. I pay attention,” her smile and words made your heart feel warm and full of love. She cared about you and was never afraid of telling you that she did.

“I love you,” you whispered, foreheads pressed together. JJ’s soft laugh warmed you. “I love you too,” she murmured, lingering in the moment before she said, “we're not going to finish the room if we keep going like this.”

You pouted in response, even if you knew that she was right. You needed a room to sleep in that night. “You're right, but you're lifting the last few things while I stare.” Jennifer rolled her eyes with a laugh and nodded. “You got it baby.”

“Our own bedroom. This is the perfect place for us.” You were excited, but most of all, you were happy and full of love at that moment. And you hoped that it didn't change.

Tag list: @loganwritesprobably @fanaticsnail @mermaniaa @skullfacedlady @decaffeinatedscreaming

August 1st

😈 Chemicals (MCU, Bucky x F!Reader) - by me

🔮 Anniversary Prank (One Piece, Penguin x GN!Reader x Sachi) - by Logan

August 2nd

🔮 Hide and Seek (Teen Wolf, Deucalion x GN!Reader) - by me

August 3rd

🔮 Miscommunication, my beloathed (Teen Wolf, Chris Argent x GN!Reader x Peter Hale) - by Logan

August 4th

🔮 Messy Encounter (One Piece, Zoro x Sanji) - by me

Zoro was a man of routine. He had figured—after a lot of trial and error—that the best way to avoid getting lost was to memorize a path and follow it every single day. He knew the way to his job and the nearest coffee shop, and that was enough for him.

He hated waking up early, but it came with the territory when he accepted the lead position for all classes at the Dojo. He had a responsibility now, a place that was almost his, where he could train others to defend themselves or just blow off steam in what he considered the best possible way.

He needed a coffee or two to get enough energy to stay awake once he left his apartment. It wasn't that he slept too late; he was just constantly tired. He loved sleeping even more than training or drinking—well, training was a close second. He could sleep all day and be the happiest man alive. This was why he had discovered The Thousand Sunny Café. They made the best coffee, and the staff already knew him. It was nice to drop by and have them prepare his order without asking. It saved him energy and effort, not having to think about what he wanted. Especially since it was always the same. Again, routines.

But that day, everything was going wrong. The street next to his apartment building was closed for maintenance, blocking his usual path. It was the only way he knew to get anywhere without being late to work and without suffering the embarrassment of asking for directions.

He knew from that moment that something was going to go wrong, but he needed to get to work. He sighed before crossing the street and walking through an unfamiliar alleyway. He figured that since it was on the same street, he wouldn't stray too far from his usual route. He was so wrong.

The alley led him to a street he'd been on before, but never on his way to work. He had seen it and probably visited nearby shops, but that didn't help him now. He had no clue where to go. Right or left? Right or left? The green-haired man stood for what felt like half an hour trying to decide what to do, then gave up and turned right. Why? Because he saw many people walking in that direction. He could've made a smart choice and looked up directions on his phone, but Zoro was so disoriented that he forgot he had a phone in his pocket.

He kept walking, scanning the stores on each side of the street, hoping one would be his coffee shop, but none were. He thought about going back home, but even then, he wasn't sure he could find his way. Zoro was not getting to work on time.

The streets felt unusually loud for that early in the morning, but that was probably because he was so focused on figuring out his location that he noticed every sound around him. He stopped several times, looking at passersby and considering whether he was ready to ask for directions. He decided against it each time someone looked back at him with confusion or annoyance for staring.

Change of plans, he thought, quickly turning around to walk in the opposite direction. He wasn't getting anywhere like this, so he might as well try another way.

He moved too fast, and before he knew it, he crashed into someone, nearly sending them both to the floor. Zoro heard the man's shout before he even saw his face. He couldn't understand what the stranger was saying—some foreign language—but it sounded angry. "Do you not know how to look where you're going?" the man finally said in a language Zoro understood. "You made a mess! My uniform, all covered in coffee!" Zoro looked at him, confused, before noticing the large coffee stain on the man's white chef-like jacket and the empty cup on the floor.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see you—" he started saying, but was interrupted by more French from the stranger, peppered with words that sounded like "stupid" and "what can I expect from someone with green hair."

Zoro thought the guy was overreacting, but kept that opinion to himself. "I'm really sorry. I'm late for work and completely lost." He attempted an apologetic smile. He hadn't intentionally crashed into him or spilled his coffee.

"If you want, I could get you another cup of coffee," Zoro offered, wanting to make it right.

"For you to spill it again? No, thank you. Goodbye."

Zoro didn't want to push if he'd angered the man that much, but then he noticed the logo on the coffee cup. It was from The Thousand Sunny's.

Immediately, he called out, "Wait!"

The blonde couldn't believe this guy was still talking after he'd said goodbye. He was tempted to ignore him and move on, but something told him not to. Sighing loudly to show his annoyance, he replied, "What now?" One eyebrow arched as he waited to see what else this stranger could want.

"Uhm..." Maybe this was a dumb idea, Zoro thought. The stranger was clearly angry, but there was no turning back now. "It's just that... I noticed the brand on the coffee cup that you... that I spilled. And I was wondering if you could guide me to that store?"

Of all the things Sanji might have expected, asking for directions wasn't one of them. He wanted to yell again, maybe without good reason—he didn't care. His morning was already ruined.

Sanji pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took his time answering. "You. Want. ME. To take you to the shop? Have you lost your mind?" This guy couldn't be serious. Too many hair dye fumes or something.

"I wouldn't ask if I weren't... lost." The last word came out as a whisper, but Sanji heard it and rolled his eyes. It would have been so easy to just say no and walk away, but the green-haired man was interesting—in an annoying sort of way.

"You're getting me a new coffee now, then." That was all he said before he started walking, not even waiting for Zoro to catch up.

"I was going to, anyway. I'm sorry about—" Sanji raised his hand to cut him off. "Stop apologizing before I regret this."

Zoro thought the guy was being unnecessarily rude, but decided to let it go. "Fine. My name is Zoro, by the way."

"Sanji," he replied, trying to sound dry and unfriendly, though his tone betrayed a hint of amusement. A spark of intrigue lingered between them, undeniable for both.

"What kind of name is that?" Zoro muttered, mostly to himself, but Sanji heard and spun around immediately. "Says the green-haired guy named ZORO." Smoke hit Zoro's face with each word, and surprisingly, he didn't find it that unpleasant. "Now, are you going to continue ruining my morning, or are we going to get my coffee?"

"Coffee it is." Zoro nodded, quickening his pace to catch up. "Would this be considered a date?" he wondered after a stretch of silence, which made Sanji laugh. A date with him? The one who had disrupted all his morning plans? Well... of course it wasn't—maybe. The more he thought about it, the more interested he became in saying yes.

"Forget I asked," Zoro said, his face returning to its usual scowl to hide his disappointment.

"If you stop annoying me, then... yes. It is a date."

Zoro knew the "not annoying" part would be challenging since Sanji seemed like someone who got irritated easily, but he had a date. That was all that mattered right now.

Tag List: @loganwritesprobably @skullfacedlady @fanaticsnail @mermaniaa @decaffeinatedscreaming

“You are not gonna find me!” Giggles spilled out, slipping through the playground found on a late-night walk with Deucalion. He was leaning against a tree, offering you time to hide—or run as far as you could— even if half of the time that didn’t change the fact that he could find you in a heartbeat.

“I like the challenge, dear, “ he replied, loud enough for you to hear, a hint of his smug, teaseful tone showing in his words. He was confident about his skills—eyesight or not—he had promised once that he would always find you. Or he would die trying. A dramatic thought for such a playful night, but Deucalion stayed vigilant. Danger was around the corner everywhere they went.

It was dark enough that you had to focus on your surroundings more than usual. The lack of light around you forced you to tread carefully, avoiding unseen branches or benches.

To outsiders, two adults playing hide and seek might seem odd, but you never cared about others’ opinions. What mattered most to you was that Deucalion had always encouraged you and played along with anything you wanted, even if it was the last thing he could’ve seen himself doing.

Behind the playfulness that you shared with him was something else, something that he understood without needing to hear about. He knew that growing up, you never had chances like this to enjoy the day, to play, to do things without overthinking them. You had been locked away, forced to face reality far too young. If playing hide and seek, or any other games you could think of, could bring back some sort of happiness for you, he would do it.

The Big Bad Demon Wolf, the one who was feared by most, but never by you. He had never expected to meet someone like you— someone who shifted his plans and made him want something other than power. He had never expected to fall in love with you. Yet, he had.

His eyes were closed ,and the cane he used to seem normal around people was left at home. When it was dark you knew that no one would see you, and if they did, he could always grab your arm and pretend as if you were guiding him and not the other way around.

Not having his eyesight was something that had made him stronger. Something that had made him even more aware of his surroundings. You joked sometimes and told him that he must have eyes on his forehead or something, because even without his red—glowing alpha eyes, he never stumbled.

It was one of the things you found fascinating about him. That, and everything else he had done and become for you.

You wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t someone who could kill others without hesitation anymore, but you could see behind his actions and reasoning now. And you were safe with him. You were so sure about that.

“Ready, my love?” he asked, voice teasing. You bit back a giggle, staying silent behind your tree, heart racing with anticipation. It was one of his tricks that you had once fallen for. He could recognize where your voice had come from and found you so fast, but not this time, you stayed quiet and hidden behind the tree you had chosen, trying to control your rapid heartbeat.

Even in the safetiness of your relationship your heart jumped at the feeling of being chased. It wasn’t a bad thing now. Not with Deucalion. It was thrilling.

He walked slowly around the playground, listening to the sound of his own footsteps to make sure he was stepping on steady ground, using the tip of his shoe to find any surface that could be in his way. Then he heard it—the familiar sound of your heart, a rhythm he’d nearly memorized.

Deucalion moved slowly, his footsteps soft on steady ground, senses sharp. ‘We should have discussed my prize for winning,’ he teased, voice carrying a playful edge. “Although, considering I win every time, I think we should establish a prize that applies to any game.”

He’s too cocky, you thought, though his confidence was justified—he always won.

“Maybe a kiss?” He kept going, his footsteps closer to you now, which made you try to keep your breathing as quiet as possible. “No, I would kiss you either way, you know I can’t resist you, angel.” Now, that was what made you giggle. You quickly covered your mouth to stop the sound from being too loud, but it hadn’t mattered. A second later, Deucalion was standing right next to you, leaning against the tree that had been your hiding spot.

“That’s my prize. Hearing your laugh. Most beautiful sound.”

Your face felt warm at the compliment, and you reached for his hand before moving closer to kiss his cheek. “That’s not fair, you made me laugh on purpose, that can’t count as a win,” you said with a pout, even if you were not mad about it. “Oh, it can’t? Then maybe we have to try again,” He smirked and with a hand he guided your face closer to kiss your lips for a sweet kiss, his thumb caressing your cheek. “And this time you’ll choose my prize.”

“What if it’s ice cream and a hug?” you asked, eyes sparkling.

“Then I’d say it is the perfect prize. Having you with me is,” he murmured, his embrace already promising it.

Tag list: @loganwritesprobably @fanaticsnail @skullfacedlady @decaffeinatedscreaming

That... shouldn't have happened. The thought flashes through your mind as you watch the remnants of your chemical mixture dispersing into the air. Your hand rushes to cover your mouth and nose, but you know it's too late. You've already inhaled some of it. Though not lethal—which is somewhat reassuring—the real problem is that you have no idea what effects these chemicals might have on you.

You had been experimenting—against everyone's warnings—to discover how the supersoldier serum worked. Not to recreate it, but out of pure curiosity because of Bucky. While you claimed your interest stemmed from the chemical aspects, how it had altered his DNA to transform his body, deep down, you knew you were doing it to learn more about him.

Bucky was always there with you—training, watching movies, sharing midnight snacks when he found you awake at night. You had learned that he rarely slept, and when he did, nightmares would wake him. Sometimes you would stay with him after he dozed off during a movie or show. You didn't know if your company helped him sleep better, but you hoped it did.

You two were close, but a part of you ached for even more closeness. These feelings sometimes kept you from getting closer to him, as you didn't want to risk heartbreak—not when you needed to stay focused on the missions assigned to all of you.

The mask that should've been on your face sat on the table behind you, and you now regretted not wearing it. Thankfully, you were alone in the lab; the risk of exposure for others was zero—or so you thought until you saw the laboratory door open.

Your hand left your face in a quick attempt to yell, "Do not breathe in!" But it was too late. Bucky was already inside and right next to you, breathing in the compounds that lingered in the air.

"I heard an explosion. Are you okay?" He looked at you with worried eyes, trying to see if you had been hurt, ignoring your warning about not breathing in.

"I'm okay. It was just some chemicals, which we shouldn't be breathing in," you reminded him again, but it was too late. You both had been exposed to them already, consequences unknown.

Instead of covering his face, Bucky's hand moved to cover yours. It was bigger than your hand that had been over your mouth before, and it felt warmer.

"That was not what I meant," you mumbled against his hand. He needed to protect himself, too.

"I'm sure it won't affect me, but what if it affects you?" His question showed genuine concern. He wanted to protect you, but you wanted to tell him that being a super soldier didn't mean he was immune to everything.

"You have to go and change clothes. Let's go."

Before you could even reply, Bucky was rushing you out of the laboratory. "I need to clean before anyone else enters," he said. Finally, outside, he removed his hand from your face, and you could speak clearly.

"You change. I'll clean it." Bucky nodded as if it was the most logical solution, but you worried. He wasn't a lab guy. And you really didn't know what effects the mist could have on both of you.

You had been analyzing DNA and its effects on hormone enhancements. Adrenaline, oxytocin, dopamine... you'd probably be okay.

He was pulling you to your room, checking on you as you both walked—or more like, ran.

Inside your room, he checked on you once more before he left to go clean. "Get rid of those clothes. You need to change. What if your skin starts turning red?" Bucky had no clue about the things you did in the laboratory, especially when it related to studying his enhancement. You wanted to explain that it was unlikely to happen, and that even if it did, you both had inhaled enough that it would affect more than just your skin.

That was a thought you didn't want to entertain.

Bucky had left you to go back to your lab. Inside, he could see dust particles floating in the air, though the atmosphere had settled compared to when he first arrived. He grabbed one of the masks and put it on before starting to clean—knowing you'd be upset if he hadn't taken this precaution.

Cleaning was straightforward: wiping down the floors and counters. He expected to finish quickly, but suddenly his entire body began warming up.

It was strange; he'd been fine just moments ago. Sweat trickled down his back. When he wiped his forehead, his skin felt like it was burning.

He tried to focus on his task, ignoring how his body seemed to be on fire. Worried it might be from the chemicals you both had inhaled, his thoughts turned to you—were you experiencing the same reaction?

The thought of you brought more than just concern. It unleashed something he'd buried deep inside himself for so long—something he could no longer contain. Longing. Desire. His mind drifted to your touch against his skin, your body pressed against his, his metal arm pulling you closer—he wanted you. He wanted you so desperately he felt he might explode.

His pants tightened uncomfortably, making his breathing quicken. Thinking about you only intensified his condition; his cock pulsed beneath his jeans, and he craved nothing more than to be buried inside you.

His mind fought against these feelings, but Bucky was losing the battle with himself. He wanted to regain control, to push these thoughts back where they belonged—at the edges of his consciousness—but he couldn't. He considered relieving himself right there, but anyone could walk into the lab.

He was in agony, with no clear solution.

It didn't take long for the chemicals to affect you too. As you removed your clothes, you felt your body burning.

Maybe Bucky was right, you thought—perhaps it could burn your skin. But this thought vanished when you noticed your racing heart and your nipples—now exposed to the air—becoming hard and sensitive.

Being a scientist, part of you understood what was happening, but you couldn't focus. All you could think about was the sensation overwhelming you, and Bucky.

Bucky. Was he experiencing the same effects?

You wanted to ask him, but getting dressed and walking to the lab seemed impossible. Instead, you grabbed your phone, dialed his number, and left the call open as you headed for the shower.

Logically, calling him and abandoning the phone made no sense, but logic had abandoned you. All that remained was heat and need.

With each step toward the shower, you felt yourself growing wetter, the friction of your thighs rubbing together made your breathing heavy and uneven.

A phone call distracted him enough to focus on something other than his intense desire for you. Then he realized who was calling.

"I'm still cleaning," Bucky tried to speak normally, too embarrassed to mention what he was feeling.

There was no answer, just the sound of running water. He figured you might be showering and had called by mistake—until he heard your voice.

"B-Bucky," it was soft and distant, but it was enough to make him abandon the laboratory like a man possessed. You had called his name in a way that would be etched in his memory forever. The phone call was forgotten by the time he reached your bedroom.

He should have knocked or announced himself as he entered your room, the bathroom door wide open. But he couldn't. Following your voice into the bathroom, the sight of you nearly brought him to his knees.

You were naked, bracing yourself against the wall, fingers moving desperately against your clit. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Your eyes were closed—Bucky wasn't sure if you'd heard him enter—but then you called his name again. A broken moan that he longed to hear from closer.

Bucky kicked off his shoes before stepping into the shower, still fully clothed—not that he cared about that now.

It was only then that you realized he had entered the room. In any other circumstance, you might have covered yourself or shied away—especially from him—but as he entered the shower, his clothes clinging to his body, your need for him only deepened.

Your fingers moved faster against your clit, craving as much friction as possible. Your eyes locked on the man before you. He looked different—like a predator who had finally cornered prey he'd been hunting for ages. His hands were clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. You could see him struggling for control, but control wasn't what you wanted. Not now.

"Bucky," you called louder this time, reaching for him with your free hand and pulling him closer. His chest pressed against your nipples as you guided his hand to replace your fingers. You needed him; he was the only thing that would satisfy you. "P-please."

Something broke inside Bucky when he felt your body against his. The last thread of his self-control snapped. He couldn't take it anymore—his cock throbbing painfully, desperate to be freed.

"Are you sure?" he asked while sliding his fingers through your slick folds, gliding easily through your wetness. "Fuck—you're so wet." Bucky wanted to wait for your answer, but his fingers seemed to have a mind of their own. "Yes—yes, please, Bucky. I want you." You begged, grinding your hips against his hand, urging him to touch you more. The way his fingers moved against your skin sent shivers down your spine. "Kiss me."

Everything about you was driving Bucky closer to the edge, and when you finally said yes and asked him to kiss you, he couldn't wait any longer.

He moved you so quickly it left you dizzy. His metal arm wrapped around your waist, lifting you in one swift motion. Your legs encircled his waist, arms clinging to his shoulders before moving around his neck. Before you could think or speak, he kissed you. His mouth opened yours, his tongue seeking entry. He wanted to taste you, to feel all of you.

You moaned against his lips, returning his kiss with equal fervor. The shower surrounding you was forgotten as he consumed your senses. Your hips ground against him, seeking friction. Instinctively, you pressed against his hardness, whimpering at the contact—even through his clothes.

That slight touch had Bucky seeing stars. The pressure of his water-soaked clothes against his skin was unbearable, and feeling you against him only made it worse. "Fuck, doll, you're driving me crazy."

"Fuck me, Bucky." You needed it and couldn't wait any longer. If he made you wait, you felt you might explode. One hand moved to his pants, trying to unbutton them while still grinding against him. You couldn't get enough.

Bucky lifted you higher for a moment to help, yanking his pants and underwear down in one quick motion. It was your first time seeing him like this—naked, or half-naked—and hard. For you. He was impressively large, making you wonder if he would fit, but you desperately wanted to try. He was hard and ready; you imagined that without the water cascading over you both, he would be glistening with pre-cum.

His grip on your waist was firm, but you still struggled against it, trying to lower your hips to feel him against you. "Sweetheart—" Bucky began, somehow finding words despite his foggy mind, "I'm trying to control myself. I don't want to hurt you, but all I want to do is pin you down and fuck you."

A whimper escaped your lips at his words. They made you burn hotter, your core clenching around nothing. Everything felt simultaneously too much and not enough.

"Bucky. Fuck me. Make me yours," was all you could say. Finally, something shifted in his eyes. His metal arm moved you effortlessly, pressing you against the wall as he lined himself up and thrust into you with one swift movement.

You cried out—but not from pain. He felt perfect inside you, even though you weren't used to his size. Your body welcomed him as if made for him alone.

"Bucky!" Your nails dug into his back as he began thrusting relentlessly. You could only try to match his rhythm. He was stronger, and his grip barely allowed you to move.

Nothing had ever felt so good. Every touch scorched your skin, every thrust hit that perfect spot inside you—and all you could do was take it. With his pace, you knew you wouldn't last long. "Fuck, you feel so good," he praised between moans and grunts. Tension built in your core as he continued driving into you. "Bucky, I'm going to—" Your words were cut off by the wave of pleasure crashing over you. Another cry tore from your throat at its intensity. Bucky didn't stop, your walls clenching around him as he rode out your orgasm until he finally released inside you. "Fuck—" he groaned, his thrusts slowing but not stopping as he filled you, warming you from the inside out. You felt complete and blissful, yet something within you still craved more. Your hips moved against him again as you pulled back to look at his face, finding the same lingering need in his expression.

"What have you done to me?" he whispered, leaning to kiss you—softly this time. The desperation remained but was now controlled. "Technically, it was a mix of chemicals that—" You giggled as he kissed you again, cutting off your explanation of what you were sure was happening to both of you.

He reached to turn off the shower and kicked his wet clothes aside before carrying you to the bedroom, still inside you. The small movements as he walked were enough to keep him hard. He knew he would need more than one round to satisfy the feelings overtaking him.

When he reached the bed, he withdrew briefly, making you whimper at the sudden emptiness. You could feel his release dripping from you, making your cheeks flush. Bucky didn't give you much time to think before he was above you again, sinking back inside. "So good. You take me so well." With one hand, he removed his soaked—now nearly transparent—white shirt. You reached for his dog tags, pulling him closer. "I'm yours. Make me yours," you begged, your mind clouded by sensation and the thrill of finally kissing him, being with him. You loved him.

"My needy girl," he murmured against your mouth, though he was just as desperate—not that he needed to admit it. He simply enjoyed knowing how much you wanted him.

Each moment you shared that night felt better than the last. Even as the chemical effects began to fade, neither of you could get enough. It was as if your bodies were making up for all those months of silent longing.

You weren't sure how much time had passed, but now you lay wrapped in Bucky's arms, eyes closed, head resting on his chest. You had never felt as content as you did in that moment, your heart full and cherished.

"Who would've thought that all I needed to get you to want me was a bunch of chemicals exploding in my lab," you joked, not bothering to look up. You were too comfortable to move. "Darling, I've wanted you for so long before this. The chemicals only gave me the courage to risk everything to have you," he replied, and you knew he wasn't joking.

"God, I love chemistry, and you."

Tag list: @loganwritesprobably @skullfacedlady @fanaticsnail @mermaniaa @decaffeinatedscreaming

Since I'm new to writing and posting fics, I have joined a challenge for this month but split in half.

I will be partnering up with @loganwritesprobably to do half of the month's prompts while he does the other half of them. I will be posting these fics on even days while he posts on odd days.

Logan and I will both be posting on the 1st, and then we will be working on the appropriate days. My list of prompts is below.

We decided to also work from a set list of fandoms, with one fandom each that was specific to us.

The joint list of fandoms is:

MCU

Teen Wolf

One Piece

Jujutsu Kaisen

Criminal Minds

Merlin

My specific fandom is:

The Rookie

I will be writing both reader insert and canon/canon, while Logan will be posting entirely reader insert content.

You can find his post about August here

You looked at your phone for what felt like the thousandth time in the last hour. It was ten past eleven at night, and you hadn’t received a single message to know where Nanami was—or how he was. It wasn’t the first time this had happened; he always came home to complain about the extra hours he had to work, but that didn’t ease your worry each time he disappeared. Truth be told, as the curses around you and Nanami grew stronger with Sukuna’s presence, you started to worry more.

It was easier when you were assigned to work with him, knowing that he was close enough for you to be there in case he needed you, or just to know that he was safe. Being out on missions with him was one of your favorite things. Not only you two were able to come back home together after it was over, but you knew that he had someone to watch his back— even if he didn’t need it.

But the thing about assignments was that you couldn’t choose which one to work on, not when it was about Special Grade Curses. The “Higher-Ups” would decide who was the best person for the job, or the one that was available. And this time they had selected Nanami for it. Only him.

You understood that it was how the job worked, you couldn't complain. You didn’t mind the fact that you had to stay at home, but waiting for news about Nanami always kept you on your toes. Anxiety increased as time went by. You tried to focus on other things. It started with cleaning the house and making sure it was all ready for when he came back home, but then he didn't arrive. Later, your focus moved on to preparing dinner in hopes that Nanami would be there to eat with you, he always enjoyed getting home to have a moment to unwind with you after work.

Dinner had been ready and you waited until it got cold. Hunger left your body in exchange of worry. You texted, but he hadn’t replied. At that moment, what mattered the most was for him to get back home safe to you.

You didn’t know what time it was when you felt someone lifting you and carrying you away from the sofa. You blinked, and found brown eyes—hidden behind familiar glasses— that you loved so much.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you said, words slurring as you rubbed your eyes to focus on his appearance.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m sorry I’m late.” He said softly, looking down at you with a small smile. It was probably past one in the morning.

“Overtime?” you asked, wrapping your arms around his neck to get closer and kiss him.

“Overtime.” He nodded, adjusting his arms to get you closer and kiss you once more. All he had been thinking about that night was getting back to you, and now he finally was there.

“You’re gonna have to make it up to me—” a small smirk appeared on your face as you looked at him, “—dinner got cold and I had to eat all on my own.” A dramatic sigh followed your words. before he opened the bedroom door and moved you so you could wrap your legs around his waist. You’d always loved the way he could just lift you and move you as if you weighed nothing.

“How could I even make up for such an oversight?” He joked along with you, knowing that you weren’t mad or annoyed with him. He leaned to lay you down on the bed, and when he was about to pull back to change his clothes, you stopped him, pulling him back in with your legs still wrapped around him.

“I can think of a few ideas.” You pulled him back for another kiss, this time hungrier and desperate, showing him exactly what you wanted without words.

He was quick to respond to the kiss, a hand moving to your legs to touch you while the other kept him from crushing you with his body. He had seen you hours before that day, but he could never get enough of you.

“I thought you were tired,” he said against your lips, hips pressed against you. You couldn’t help but press down against him, looking for more.

“I missed you. Sleep is overrated.” Wandering hands moved to quickly unbutton his shirt, revealing his bare torso. You could see a few bruises, probably from the fight, but you didn’t ask. Not right then. His gaze was focused on you only, the mission behind him.

Smirking, he leaned to kiss your neck, murmuring, “then I’ll make up for the overtime, my love.”

Tag list: @loganwritesprobably @decaffeinatedscreaming @fanaticsnail @skullfacedlady @mermaniaa

The Pack was sitting close together, listening to Derek speak as he mentioned that there were some rumors about a new pack arriving in Beacon Hills— a dangerous pack. They had many questions, wanting to know who they were and what they wanted, but no one knew the answers to all those questions. At the end of the day, these were supposed to be just rumors, but in that town, even the rumors ended up being true. They had to be ready for anything. You looked at everyone, the tension was palpable in the air as the thoughts of having to prepare for a new fight, for a new unknown enemy, filled their heads. You hadn’t been there for the first “Big Bads”, as they called them, all you knew was what Derek had mentioned when you asked about the pack. You had your fights and struggles in the past, but they felt different. You had never been in a pack that supported you through them or with people as close as the rest were. It felt lonely sometimes, as if you didn’t exactly fit with the rest. It wasn’t on purpose— you were just older than them. The one closest in age to you was Derek, but he wasn’t the most talkative person. 

Seeing the way they sat together, close enough that it made you think they didn’t believe in personal space, made your heart ache. It made you want to have that connection with someone. You had your favorites in the pack; you couldn’t hide that. There was Isaac, who you could see had gone through so much and was still trying to have a normal teenage life— even as a werewolf—and Erica, who showed up as rough and mean, but was always clinging to Boyd and wanting to spend time with her friends. They were nice to you, they all were, but those two had been the ones that included you the most, the ones that kept you updated in all the love drama that Scott went through, and even joked with you about how you would be the perfect match for Derek. Which always made you laugh and remind them that just because you were old enough, it didn’t mean that you had to date him. 

The truth was, it had crossed your mind before. It was impossible not to even consider it for a moment. He was Derek Hale, and he was handsome and smart. But he had never shown any interest in you, at least not in that aspect, so you had to tell yourself not to get your hopes up. You weren't there to find a mate; you were there to have a pack to confide in. 

Derek was the one who had found you. You had recently been turned into a werewolf, lost and hurt. You had escaped from a group of people, one of whom kept mentioning how he was going to wait for you to turn so he could kill you. “To be stronger”, he had said, or that's what you believed you had heard between your sobs and screams of pain. The bite had been painful, and it had taken too long to heal. For a while, you were convinced you were dying, as the skin the wound was turning black. Even the man who had turned you thought that you weren’t going to survive, and that had been the thing that saved you. They left you alone and scared, but they left you, and you healed. You weren’t sure why, but you were glad you did. 

It was then that Derek found you. He was running deep into the forest, tracking any scent that could give away other wolves around his town, trying to catch the pack that was rumoured to exist before they got to them. He wasn’t sure how far he had gone that day, but when he smelled blood and saw a body lying on the ground, he had been even more alert. 

The bite was still visible when he found you; the wound looked black, and you were passed out, barely moving at all. The images of Paige danced through his brain as he checked for your pulse. Black was never a good sign, but your pulse seemed strong, and the wound seemed to be healing under the dry black blood. 

He had carried you to the loft that night, cleaned your wounds, and left you to rest in his bed. Sometimes he would come in to check if you were still breathing, even if realistically he could hear your heartbeat from outside the room, but he couldn’t shake away the fear of seeing someone die from the bite again. It didn’t matter that you were just a stranger to him. 

That night you slept the whole night, no fevers and no cold. It wasn’t until you woke up that you realized that you weren’t in the woods anymore. You were lying in a comfortable bed in an unknown place. Had the man come back for you? You checked your wound, and it was clean, visibly better than before. And you weren’t shaking from pain anymore. You felt better—still weak—but better. 

That was the day you met Derek. You were trying to sneak out of the room to find a way to escape from the man who had bitten you, when you found a completely different person standing in the kitchen and making food that smelled so good to you at that moment. 

Knowing that the man who bit you wasn’t there relaxed you a little, but that didn’t mean that you weren’t scared or worried. “Where am I?” Your voice sounded rough after all the crying and screaming you had done in the last few days. Your eyes scanned the room for anyone else, and to look for the door, ready to run. “My house. Don’t try running, you’re still not fully healed.” The man said, looking at you as if he knew what you were thinking of. “That didn’t answer my question. Who are you, where am I, why am I here?” You had a million things you wanted to know, and you wanted to run before someone else found you. “Is the man with you?”

Derek wasn’t the best at explaining things to people or calming them down when things were stressful, but he was trying his best to look relaxed and not startle you. He placed some pancakes on a plate, with eggs and bacon, and placed them on the countertop in front of you, as an offering. “My name is Derek. I found you in the woods and brought you here to take care of your wounds.” He served you a glass of orange juice as you tried to process what he was saying and decide if you trusted him enough to eat the food he was offering. You were hungry, so you decided to trust him enough to eat the food he was offering.. 

“Please eat. I’m not sure how long you’ve been without food, but your stomach was growling a lot earlier,” he said, and you frowned. He was listening to your stomach? Had he been in the room with you? “What man?” He asked before you could even say anything else, and that made your focus shift for a moment. “The crazy man who bit me. He… his teeth were huge, and the pain was so bad. Why didn’t you take me to the hospital? This wound can get infected—” You looked down at your arm, now able to see that not only had it been cleaned, but it was barely there anymore. You didn’t understand. Did you make it up? Did he drug you? You wanted to run away again, your fears rushing back to the surface once again. Everything felt like too much at that moment. You took a few steps back before rushing to the door, but before you could even get to it, the guy— Derek—was standing in front of you. “What—”

“Don’t run away. I am not going to hurt you, but if I don’t know who did this to you, then someone might. I will explain everything. Please.” He looked at you with soft eyes, and you got lost in his eyes for a moment. All you could do was nod, and slowly you walked back to the kitchen and sat down in front of your food. 

Derek wasn’t the best at explaining that werewolves were real, and that now you were one too. You thought he was just trying to scare you until he had shifted in front of you— you wanted to run away then— the flashbacks of the man that hurt you coming back to you as you saw his fangs and the way his face shifted. But still, with Derek, it didn’t feel as scary. 

“I’m dreaming, right? Or, I died and my brain is trapped in this weird reality—” Derek’s hand had reached for yours as you started rambling once again. “You are not dreaming nor dead. This is a lot to process. But I’m here to help you through the changes that you will experience.”

A few days ago, you had been living a normal— or as normal as could be—and now you were turning into a werewolf. It seemed incredible, or like a joke, but it was real. 

Derek had mentioned that you probably needed to stay there until your first full moon, because that was going to be the hardest one. And in reality, you were in no rush to go back to your old life. Especially since it felt now dangerous. Beacon Hills wasn’t that close to where you lived before, and you realized you didn’t have clean clothes, money, or any belongings of yours. And, most importantly, you had no place to stay. 

Which is how you ended up living in Derek’s house, taking his room since he insisted you needed to heal and rest more than him, and wearing his clothes. They were a little too big on you, but comfortable. You met the pack a day after, and the way they had reacted to your presence there made you believe that they thought you were just someone whom Derek had over… as in dating. The thought made you blush, but Derek had quickly explained what had happened. 

The next day, Isaac and Erica appeared at Derek’s place to steal his card and take you shopping for some clothes that fit you way better. 

You felt bad for taking so much of Derek, but there was another part of you that liked how he seemed to worry or care. Even if it didn’t mean the same for him as it did for you. 

Or so you thought. 

You had gotten used to spending time with Derek. You two had a routine. Waking up to breakfast together, most of the time in silence since none of you was a morning person, and then spending some of the day reading and the rest “training” to control your shift and control the urges that came with being a werewolf. It wasn’t easy. At all. 

A lot of the time, you ended up fighting with Derek out of frustration and locking yourself in your room, or, well, his room. You didn’t mean to get angry, but it seemed that being a werewolf had made you angrier than ever before.

Sometimes it made you angry when Derek explained that everything you felt was normal. You hadn’t signed up for any of that. And now you were suffering the consequences. 

After a while, it became easier, and you saw the kids in the pack and thought about how much more they were probably struggling with all the teenage hormones and problems at school. You were glad that time was over for you. And another part of you wished that they had been your group at school, to have some good friends to trust and who supported you. 

After everyone left Derek’s place, worried and alert about anything that could tell them about the pack that was coming for their town, you stayed sitting in the same spot you had been all meeting. Quiet, your mind running from one thought to another. 

You didn’t think that Derek would notice, but you felt him sitting right next to you before he said, “What’s wrong?” 

You looked at him, slightly confused about why he was asking. “I’m okay, just thinking”, you said with a small shrug of your arms. “No, you’re not. You were distracted all meeting, and you looked sad.” You wanted to claim you had been paying attention to everything, but you hadn’t. You knew what the meeting was about because Derek mentioned it to you beforehand— perks of living in the same place. What surprised you the most was the mention of you being sad. You thought you were good at hiding those feelings. “What’s wrong?” he asked again. 

You couldn’t lie this time, and you prepared yourself to be embarrassed about whatever was going to come out of your mouth at that moment. “It’s stupid… I just feel alone. I don’t think I fit in the pack. They all study together, spend the day together, and are the same age. I’m the outsider. The new one here. I’m alone.”

Derek heard your words and pretended that the fact that you hadn’t even considered him in the equation hurt him, because this wasn’t about him. It was about you. He looked at you and saw a small tear fall down your cheek, which he reached to wipe away. “There’s one thing you’re missing there.” You frowned in confusion again, ignoring the warmth in your cheeks from Derek’s touch. “Me.” He added, not waiting for you to say anything. “I’m here, with you. I never planned on being Alpha, or having a pack full of teenagers. You… you are the first bit of normalcy that has appeared in my life since everything changed. Maybe in an unconventional way, or a way that you didn’t want. But you appeared in my life one day, and you made me feel less alone.”

This was the most Derek had spoken, at least about his feelings, with you or anyone. You always tried to make him talk to you, but the man was hard to crack open. 

“You are not alone. Not as long as I’m here with you.” Those were the last words he said to you, not wanting to overwhelm you with more of his feelings. What he didn’t know was that all you wanted to do now was hear him talk about how he felt about you. You couldn’t find the right words then, so you did what your whole body told you to. You leaned closer to him and pressed your lips to his. A soft kiss that told him how much his words—and he—meant to you. Because during all that time together, you had fallen in love with Derek Hale. And the way that he kissed you back made you believe that maybe he had fallen for you, too. Maybe you weren’t alone, after all. 

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🔮 Early Morning Chaos — (Lucy Chen/Tim Bradford)

😈 Hypnotic Pull — (Lucy Chen/Tim Bradford)

😈 Lie to Me — (Lucy Chen/Tim Bradford)

The most important rule of undercover work had to be not to get caught, but in reality, staying alive was the one that they all struggled with the most. The dangers that felt as if they were breathing down their neck, the crimes they had to witness and not do anything to stop them, at least not at that moment. It wasn't just the fear of physical death, but of the heart. What if the job consumed you in a way you couldn't leave behind? Like it had happened to her. To Isabel. Tim was sure that his fear about undercover work would never go away, but if he wanted to stay with Lucy, he had to get over it. He loved her, and she loved him, but most importantly, she loved the job and wanted to do it.

Lucy had been contacted by the detectives to go undercover after they had received intel about a possible buyer of heavy weapons. It was a dangerous group— drugs, weapons, and every illicit trade imaginable. And they needed an expert to test the weapons once they got them. That's when Lucy entered the picture. The CI told them that she was a vet who could manage all kinds of machines, but she was kicked out of the military due to bad behavior. The source even said that she was willing to go after anyone to get her revenge for kicking her off the job, for marking her as unfit. It wasn't quick, but they bought it. 

Lucy wasn't Lucy anymore; she was Natalie Lang. Born into a good family and was disowned after she was kicked off the job. 

Her contact was Angela, but Tim had insisted on being there at every encounter, too. It was a dangerous job, one for which she couldn't even own a bulletproof vest to protect herself. She was all on her own. And Tim was too worried. The warehouse Lucy had been taken to was vastly secured, and they couldn’t see or hear anything from their surveillance spots. They were in the dark, and Lucy couldn’t communicate with her team.

Lucy already knew how to keep her nerves controlled, how to keep the pretence when she knew she had to put on the best show. For the most part, she was lucky that they let her stay in her corner, reading any book or magazine she could find, all the while she was listening to what they were saying about the delivery. She needed to remember every detail, so when she was able to see Angela or Tim, she could tell them. But she didn’t know when she would be able to. The people she was with barely let her out of the warehouse since she got there. Only once had they moved her to a different place; she thought that it might have been a club. They had covered her head and left her inside the car; the guys would take turns to watch her. All she could do was listen to the music in the background. That didn’t last long, though. According to the guys, she was making too much noise and risking them getting caught for having her there. Lucy had told them that it would have been easier if they just let her go with them, but at that time, they all laughed. What she thought could have been an opportunity to meet with the police turned into a horrible car ride. 

She didn’t want that to happen again. Lucy started doing her best to get on their good side. She offered to go with them when they mentioned going to different places. She used the excuse that she needed to go out and that she could be of help. It felt like too many days were going by; the delivery seemed to have been delayed because of patrols around town. Lucy knew that none of those would stop them and risk leaving her there, but they didn’t know that. And that meant that she was there for longer. 

It was Friday night, and Lucy noticed that most of the guys were getting ready to leave. Some were having drinks, talking about how they were going to enjoy the party. The second she heard that word, she knew that she needed to go. 

Lucy approached a guy they called Gunner, not too creative if you asked her, and she said, “Is there a chance I could go with you guys?” He looked up at her with a raised brow as if he didn’t believe what she was saying. He laughed at the thought. “I don’t think someone like you would enjoy the place we are going to, sweetheart. You’ll stay in the van.” Lucy’s stomach turned at the pet name and the idea of staying locked up in another place again. She took a deep breath before she said anything, “You have no idea what places I’m used to. Or the places I’ve been to, but I know I’m not staying in that van.” She spoke firmly, then softened her tone, realizing she’d come on too strong. ‘It smells, and I really would like to have a little fun.” It was the worst part of the job, trying to act sweet and as if she respected any of them, but she had to. 

Gunner looked at her for way longer than she liked before he nodded once. “You will stay close to us. If we lose you, you are going to be chained until delivery day.” Lucy grinned. She didn’t know where she was going, but one thing was for sure: Tim would be there. “Go look for something to wear. I’m sure there’s… clothes that some of the guys’ girls have left around. Be presentable.” Disgusting. She thought, having to wear clothes that had been who knows where, but it wasn’t like they let her pack a suitcase with party clothes. 

She rushed to look around, finding a dress. It was too short for her liking, but it was all they had. A backless black dress, which was long enough to cover her butt. Thankfully, it had a high neck; the last thing she needed was to show her boobs around too. The heels she found were a little too small for her, and it made her feet hurt, but she had to stand it. Lastly, her hair, long and free, covered as much of her back as she could. For the makeup, she couldn’t do much, using some blush that she found, hoping that it would be good enough. She hated the look, and she hated it even more when she left the room she had been changing in and heard the guys whistling at her and telling her nasty things. 

The ride to the party was awkward. She was sitting in the middle of two guys who kept trying to touch her legs, even though she kept moving their hands. It was a relief when they finally arrived at the club, and she was able to leave the car. Gunner quickly moved close enough to say, “Remember what I told you.” And walked towards the entrance. Security let them pass without question, and Lucy followed silently, looking around for any blind spots of the place, for anything that would tell her why they were there. Part of her kept checking to see if she found a familiar face. She hoped she would. 

When they got to the table, one of the guys had noticed her scanning the place. “Looking for something?” She turned to look at him with her most innocent look. “Nope, just enjoying the vibes. I like the music.” She smiled, trying to appear convincing enough because the guy looked at her with a suspicious face, but before he could reply, he looked up, his hand immediately going to his waistband. A sign that he was carrying a gun. Lucy turned around, and her whole body relaxed slightly. Tim. He wore jeans and a t-shirt, some that she had never seen before, and he smiled at the guys and Lucy. He raised his arms after pointing at the gun, saying, “Wow, no need for that, was just wondering if the lady wanted to dance.” Lucy wanted to smile at the thought, but she looked at the people she was with and wondered if she had to wait for permission. She did. “She’s with us,” Gunner said. 

“I’m sure you can spare her for a few dances, right, doll?” He was acting as if he were a little drunk and flirty. Lucy looked at him and gave him an apologetic look, thinking that she would have to say no, but then someone said, “Well, let’s see those dance moves then.” Relief washed over her, and she held the hand that Tim was offering so she could get up. “Stay close,” was the last thing she heard after they both moved as far away as they could from the table, but still somewhere they could see them. 

Lucy wanted to hug Tim, to kiss him, to cry even, but she couldn’t. She didn’t even know what to say. He saw the doubt in his girlfriend’s eyes, and he grabbed her hand to give her a twirl and have her end up with her back pressed to his chest. “I missed you,” he whispered, leaning to her ear so only she could listen. They danced to the music, pretending as best as they could when all Lucy wanted was to stay right there in Tim’s arms. “They might be listening,” Lucy whispered, not knowing if they had any other people who knew them around. 

“Then lie to me.” He whispered to her, brushing his mouth against her ear and making her shiver from the touch. 

“Tim,” she whimpered, pressing her body against his even more. Tim had lost focus on the goal of being there; he could ask about the important details later. All he cared about right then was Lucy. “This dress is too revealing. You’re driving me crazy. How can I let you be around them like this?” His hand brushed against her thigh, sending another wave of shivers through her body. This was torture. “None of them have touched me like this.” She looked to the side to lock her eyes with his. “And none of them will.”

He turned her around in one smooth movement, and the second her arms were around his neck, he closed the distance between their lips. She wasn’t sure what the rules were, but she didn’t think; she just kissed him back. It was heated, one of his hands moving through her bare back while the other grabbed the back of her head. Lucy moved a hand to his hair, pulling slightly at it, making Tim groan against her mouth. She could feel him grinding against her, the way he was slowly getting hard. “I need you.” She said against his lips, desperately urging him to open his mouth to slide her tongue inside. She wished that she could escape right then, and maybe she could, but it would ruin the mission. It wasn’t until someone crashed against Tim that they pulled slightly away from each other. Lucy was panting, flushed cheeks as she looked around at the guys, firmly staring at her. At that moment, she saw one of them walking towards them. She hoped it wasn’t, but still, she looked at Tim with seriousness and told him what she had to.”Tomorrow, 10 p.m. It was delayed because of patrols. You’ll have to follow them.”

Tim nodded, knowing that their time was coming to an end. He gave her another kiss, this time to pretend she wasn’t talking, as he saw the guy approaching too. Well, it was for himself, too. He wanted to. 

An arm pulled Lucy away from Tim too fast: “We’re leaving.” That was all Tim could hear before she was out of his sight. He worried that they would say something to her about what happened, and he moved behind them quickly enough to see her pulling into the car. She seemed okay, her face was back to acting like anyone but her Lucy. Just one more day and she would be free. 

That night, Lucy had made sure to ignore every comment the guys made about her. Each comment more vile than the last. She took refuge in the thought of Tim and the fact that it would be over soon. 

When they were back in the warehouse, she quickly changed into clothes that covered her whole body and locked herself in her “room”. She couldn’t sleep, anxiety from being there and knowing what they thought about her, and desperation for it to be tomorrow were crowding her mind. She hoped to be back in her room, finally sleeping in a place where she could feel safe. 

The next day dragged on, with Lucy preparing all day for the delivery as instructions were given to everyone, organizing them into different groups. It was a smart move, but one that they knew too well. She was leaving in the last car alongside Gunner. 

“Natalie. Let’s go.” She was told, not sure what time it was, and getting no answer when she asked the guys. All she knew was that it was showtime. 

The arrest wasn’t easy. The second the police saw the money exchange after Lucy had checked the guns, the police were all over them. Shots were fired almost immediately, and she was forced to grab one of the weapons to help the police take them down. 

After some time, an ambulance was called for one of the criminals, and they managed to get them all in custody. It was over. Lucy was relieved that none of them had gotten hurt.

When the cars left for the station with the suspects, she turned to look for Tim, who was waiting right next to his shop for her. “I have a pair of handcuffs for you, too.” He said with a smirk and Lucy laughed, closing the distance between them and hugging him tightly. “I’m not kidding.” He added as he wrapped his arms around her. 

“Maybe later.” She said with a teasing tone. “Maybe you can even wear a black dress again.” Lucy looked up at him with a raised brow as he managed to make his most innocent face, and she just rolled her eyes and kissed him. “Let’s get you home, baby. Work is over.” 

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