#Protect Hendricks

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Strings

Summary: The reader's been assigned to watch over Dory Shaw when she runs into trouble. But when her big brother, Colter, shows up in town, things in the case are about to take a dramatic turn...

Pairing: Colter Shaw x reader

Word Count: 5,100ish

Warnings: language, serial killers, drugging, smidge of violence, innuendoes galore, not so implied smutty times

A/N: Welcome to my first ever Colter one shot! Please enjoy and let me know what you think and if you want more Colter! 😊

________

“So that’s the brother that does the reward thing you told me about?” Dory hummed beside you at your hightop, smirking at you. “What?”

“Nothing. You’ve only been drooling over him the past hour.” She gave her brother a wave from where he was getting the three of you refills at the bar. You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Defensive pose. I must be totally wrong, hm?”

“So what if he’s hot? I wasn’t drooling.” She shuddered. “You have hot brothers, Dory. Live with it. It’s a shame how you turned out. Your poor parents.”

“Screw you,” she said, flipping you off with a smile. You only grinned, stealing one of the cold fries from the basket before you. “I thought you swore off men anyways.”

“I swore off boys. Douchebags that don’t want commitment. Men? Men, I’m okay with.”

“Ain’t that the fucking truth,” she said, Colter wearing a pleasant smile as he returned with three bottles. 

“Ladies,” he said, setting one down in front of each of you before taking a seat. 

“So how long are you-” Dory groaned when he phone started to buzz. “Oh, come on. It’s fucking Hendricks.”

“Yikes,” you said, taking a sip as Colter frowned.

“Who’s Hendricks?” he asked, Dory answering and walking away to a quiet corner of the bar.

“The department chair. They’ve been having a problem with one of the professors and keep asking Dory to cover his night classes last minute,” you said. Colter frowned, keeping his thoughts to himself. Slowly you brought the lips of your ice cold bottle to your lips, taking a baby sip, Colter’s gaze on Dory’s agitated form. “What did you study in college?”

“I never went,” he said, Dory approaching again with her phone by her side. She gave you a look. She had to go. Colter picked up on it as she faced him, an apology in her eyes. He only softly returned a smile, hiding his disappointment well. “Go to work. I can stick around town a few days.”

“Really?” she asked, her voice so young sounding, a little girl’s spark in her eyes. 

“Of course, kiddo,” he said, handing her the black bag on the table belonging to her. “We’ll get dinner at your place tomorrow.”

“You’re serious? You’re not going to run off in the night?” He shook his head, hiding the flash of pain on his face. Dory only smiled, pecking a kiss on his temple. “Alright, I’ll text you later. Oh, and Y/N totally thinks you’re hot. Have fun!”

“Dorian!” you screeched at her as she happily scurried away, heading out the bar entrance. Your face felt hot as you turned back to Colter, he eyes suddenly narrowed. “Uh, she was just joking-”

“You have five seconds to explain who you are and why that man by the door followed her out. Five. Four,” he said, already getting to his feet. “Three-”

“Protective custody,” you grit out. Colter took two steps to be by your side, leaning down to your ear.

“How many are covering her?”

“Three at all times. One of us is always by her side. That call was a cover. She has to go into the agency for a debrief,” you said quietly. You felt his hot breath over the back of your neck, your skin prickling. “Back off, Shaw.”

“You’re going to tell me what’s going on, right now.” You growled, pushing out your seat and standing, forcing him to take a step back, if only so. 

“Not here.” You left without waiting for him, Colter right on your heels though. You stopped by your SUV in the parking lot, Colter crossing his arms. With a sigh, you put your hands on your hips. “You’re not going to let this go, are you.”

“The only reason I didn’t storm out after Dory is because I believe you. Now what is my kid sister involved in?” You shook your head, Colter tilting his own back. “I will not interfere but you need to tell me. Or else, I’ll go poking on my own and then I very well might end up interfering which you don’t want. Talk.”

“You would never risk putting her in danger so no, you won’t do anything. You are going to get in your truck, go sleep in your camper and tomorrow, hang out with your sister and me, her old friend from college that’s visiting until further notice. Got it?” you snapped. He looked you up and down, searching for a weapon maybe? He’d never find the small pistol in the back of your waistband though. “Shaw, I told you to go.”

“You need to be better at your job,” he said, reaching around his back and pulling our a small pistol. Your small pistol. Your hand shot to your back, now feeling very flat. 

“How-”

“I distracted you in the bar.” He flipped the gun around, holding the grip out to you. “I’m sure you know all about our family. If someone is after her, I can find them. You know I can.”

“You think you can do a better job than the FBI?” you scoffed, taking your weapon back. He shrugged. It was maybe a sliver of cocky but you knew he had the record to back it up. 

“I think if you don’t find this guy soon, the case will go cold and the FBI will not waste so many agents time. You’ve probably got what, a team of seven people covering her?”

“Four now,” you mumbled, his eyes flashing wide for a brief moment. “Maybe a few agents have been pulled the past few days but we wouldn’t leave her to fend for herself.”

“How long before that team drops to two? To one? Before they force her into witness protection or this bastard finds her first?” You tucked your gun away, Colter tilting his head to the side. “You know what’s going to happen? You’re going to be the last agent left and either you both get killed, you do and she goes into witness protection or she does and you have to live with the fact you failed her. You seem capable of defending her but if this person is as dangerous as you make it seem, you are going to need all the help you can get.”

“Go to your camper,” you said, opening the drivers door, Colter making a face. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

“Cozy,” you said, stepping into the airstream forty minutes later. You’d changed into a pair of jeans and an oversized hoodie from college. Colter pouted from the kitchenette area, nodding to the table. You tucked yourself in along with your backpack, tugging out your laptop and files before he set a beer down in front of you. “I ordered us a pizza. Should be here soon. You’re paying.”

“Of course I am,” he said, taking the seat across, spinning your folders around and opening one as you got your computer booted up. He barely glanced at the thing before you felt his heated stare. You met it quickly, Colter pointing a finger to a picture on the page. “A suspected serial killer? Seriously?”

“She saw him drug a woman at a bar. Gave a good description to locals, it flagged in our system. Two days later, someone broke into her house. Luckily for your sister, she was covering a lecture that night and wasn’t home.” He ran a hand over his face, closing his eyes. “I know. She’s his next target. Good news is we know what he looks like and have a name. Bad news-”

“Twelve years and he hasn’t been caught?” said Colter. He grabbed his beer, tightening his grip around it but not drinking. Yet. He steadied himself, breathing deeply. “When do you lose sight of him normally?”

“He’s not shy. After a kill, he sticks around the area for a day or so. We get footage of him at coffee shops, stores. We’ll track him to bus stations and then we lose him.”

“He doesn’t take the bus?” You shook your head. Colter pursed his lips, flipping through the pages of your files. “You think he changes appearance in station bathrooms and sneaks out with the crowd?”

“That is the agency’s working theory,” you said, Colter giving you his attention. You were no stranger to working under scrutiny but his intense stare made you feel like you were back in the academy on your first day.

“You disagree with that.” You nodded, turning your computer around, his eyes darting around the screen, pondering the data. “Huh. You think he uses the station as a cover and heads into the sewer system through maintenance.”

“I have…been told this is impossible and there’s no way he has done this in eleven separate cities and no one has been the wiser.” You took the computer back, Colter flipping up a page. “It doesn’t matter. We need-”

“It does and I agree with you. He always goes into the station wearing gray trousers, black boots and a black hoodie. That could easily be covering a maintenance jumpsuit that he uses to gain access and then escape without watchful eyes.”

“But it tells us nothing about where he might be now,” you said. Colter smirked, finally taking a sip of his beer. “I know what you’re thinking but countless stores sell basic jumpsuits.”

“You’re right. But if I were him, I wouldn’t want to get behind the wheel of a car smelling like crap while I get out of town. Now this guy is tall, right? He’s not going to want to walk more than a few miles at most hunched over in a sewer. Let me see your computer.” 

You slid it over, Colter pulling up a map of the city, dropping a pin on the bus station. He typed something and then his phone was ringing, Colter muttering something to someone named Bobby before he hung up. A few seconds passed before he smiled, turning it back to you, a giant red circle on the screen.

“People would notice if a guy came in stinking to a hotel or motel. My best bet, he has a hideaway somewhere in that perimeter. My guy is looking into foreclosures, rentals, abandoned properties. We’ll hear back soon.”

“You could be wrong. You’re making a pretty big assumption based on the fact the guy wouldn’t want to sit in his own stench.” Colter shrugged, holding up his hands.

“I might be. Or I might be right. What’s the harm in looking?” You sat back, crossing your arms, glancing out his wide back window to the darkness beyond.

“I’m meant to be Dory’s handler. I sleep in her house, I am by her side almost twenty four seven. I cannot spend time kicking down doors and I won’t be able to get my boss to approve more field agents to go off on a wild goose chase.” Colter cocked his head, licking his lips. “What?”

“You already figured all this shit out about the perimeter on your own,” he said, leaning forward. You sighed, Colter shaking his head. “They turned you down when you brought it up.”

“Like I said, I’ve been told it’s impossible.” You grabbed your beer, picking at the paper label. “I was the junior lead on the case. I was demoted to protective services when I presented my idea. I was told it was childish and clearly I was not ready for difficult case work. If I go off on my own and they find out, I’m fired.”

“Then we won’t let them find out,” he said. “I have an idea.”

“Well that was mortifying,” you said twenty minutes later after hanging up the phone, Colter smirking from the drivers seat. “Oh, shut up. It was your shitty idea.”

“They seem to have bought it,” he said, still smiling as you glared. “You do this thing with your nose when you get embarrassed.”

You flipped him off, Colter chuckling before heading down the road out of the parking lot and towards the perimeter circle form the bus station. 

“I can’t believe I asked for a night off for a fake date with you,” you mumbled, pressing your fingers to your temple and rubbing.

“Well you were drooling over me at the bar and your little agent friend and Dory seeing it certainly helped.” You smacked his arm, Colter feigning pain. 

“First off, I did not drool. Second, you are objectively attractive and I allowed to appreciate good looking men. Third, you are lucky I’m overworked and my boss was happy I’m taking some time off to recharge.”

“I’m pretty sure I heard your partner say they wished you a happy trip to pound town tonight.” You growled audibly, Colter laughing to himself. 

“One more word and I will arrest you, Shaw,” you said. He held up his hands, that stupid smile still on his face. “Don’t be cocky.”

“Interesting choice of words.” 

“Someone kill me now,” you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest, your vest heavy underneath your hoodie.

“Seriously though, thank you for doing this with me. It’s a lot safer having backup,” he said. You nodded, knowing fully well that if you did find your killer, tonight was most likely your last night as an agent.

“Yeah well…I’m only letting you do this because Dory told us all about how you were raised. You can handle yourself if it comes down to it.” The air was quiet, the jovialness slipping away with a single breath.

“I’m sorry you were laughed out of the room,” he said, turning down a quiet street. “We might not be right but it’s worth investigating.”

“They were looking for any excuse to move me down the ladder after my boss’ son started in the office. He took my old job the little shit,” you said. “Straight out of the academy, never even seen a dead body and he’s working a damn serial killer case.”

“I see you hold no resentment,” he said. You rolled your eyes, Colter clearing his throat. “For what it’s worth, I’d rather have the woman that gives more of a shit about my sister than her job than have the nepo baby ridin’ shotgun.”

“So you know I’ll probably lose my job tonight,” you said, Colter humming. “I won’t if we don’t find the guy.”

“We both know odds are good we’ll find him,” he said, sparing you a look when you stopped a red. He had a look of…softness, a sad smile there. “Thank you for protecting her.”

“Well, at least I won’t have to look at nepo baby’s stupid face anymore. He looks like a smug little prick,” you said. 

“Is he good looking?”

“God no. Ugly as sin like his dad.” Colter chuckled, a quiet one leaving your lips.

“Looks like you got an upgrade then,” he said. “Even if you do drool.”

“Just shut up and drive, Shaw.”

Three hours and twenty eight minutes later, you were staring at the ceiling of a rental house, blood dripping down from your temple from where you’d been pistol whipped in the face. Your body told you to make sound, move, call out for Colter who was at the front of the house. But your lungs weren’t working, the breath knocked out of you.

A dark shadow leered down at you, his eyes narrowed.

“Little miss roommate,” he said, squatting down, pushing the gun that’d fallen from your hands away. He cocked his head, resting a hand over your throat, stopping you from getting the air you desperately needed. He squeezed harder, pushing up your hoodie with the other one, tsking when he saw your vest. “Come on, sweetie. Look at me. Get a real good look at me, Y/N.”

He let you get a rush of air in your lungs as your eyes drifted over. The man looked slightly off somehow as he reached behind his neck. There was a sound of rubber as a synthetic mask was ripped off, a sweaty face appearing underneath that made your eyes go wide. He spun the mask around before setting it down beside him, fixing his hair as he applied more pressure again.

“I know you have questions,” he tutted, patting your face as you squeezed his wrist. “Come on, really?”

 Something sharp pricked your shoulder, a syringe pulled back as you felt your limbs get heavy. He backed off with choking you at least when all you could do was manage a limp grasp of him. 

“That’s better,” he said. “So I-”

He went down the ground hard, Colter standing over his prone form, eyes shooting to you. “He stabbed you with a sedative because this sick fuck likes his victims to be awake. You should be okay.”

“Nepo baby,” you mumbled, Colter tilting his head like he heard you wrong. “Him. Nepo baby.”

Colter got him restrained and tied to a nearby radiator before helping you sit up against the wall. He was shoving a cup of coffee in your hand by the time your attacker was waking up, your body heavy but a few sips of the scalding hot liquid had you feeling a tiny bit better.

“Good morning,” said Colter, his voice way, way darker than you thought it could go. Franklin was fully awake now and staring at you. “I interrupted your monologue before. How rude of me. Continue.”

“I ain’t saying shit-” he said, cutting himself off when Colter pressed the cold barrel of his gun right in Franklin’s crotch. 

“It probably won’t kill you but you’re going to think of me every time you take a piss the rest of your life. So, I’d take a second and really think about the next words out of your mouth because you’ve tried to kill my sister and you’ve tried to kill my friend over there and I am more than happy to pull this trigger if you don’t tell us everything. Now.”

Franklin slammed his head back against the wall, muttering curses to himself.

“His name is Franklin,” you said, forcing yourself to chug back the coffee.

“Franklin,” sang song Colter, his hand grasping Franklin’s chin. “You have three seconds before I start shooting off body parts. Three. Two-”

“I did it! All of it. My dad found out and…”

“Fuck. He protected you,” you spit out. 

“You figured out where I hid so he made you a laughing stock, got you demoted for being crazy. We knew we had to get rid of you so we…set up a failed job. I picked the blonde girl cause I thought she was pretty-”

Colter pressed his gun down hard, Franklin making a guttural sound in response.

“Keep talking,” Colter snarled. Franklin caught his breath, closing his eyes.

“He put you on protective detail and I was going to lay low until he pulled the whole detail except for you and the blonde girl. I was going to make it look like I got the jump on you before I played with the blonde…and you…before I…” he trailed off.

“Play with the blonde? With Y/N?” growled Colter. “That’s my baby sister. That’s my friend.”

“Walk away, Colter,” you said, forcing yourself to your feet. You swiped the gun from his hand and sat down in a nearby chair, aimed at Franklin. Colter didn’t move though, his body like solid steel. “Colter.”

He forced himself away, breathing hard and putting his back to Franklin. You imagined you looked like shit. Your head was pounding and you felt like going to sleep and running a marathon at the same time.

“I want you to call my old partner, Denny Piplin. Tell him everything. He has friends in high places and will make sure a trusted agent is watching Dory when shit goes down in that office.” You handed him your phone, Colter’s eyes darting around your face. “I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding,” he said, taking the phone. After a moment, his jacket was pressed against your head, his strong hand holding it there as he flipped through your phone contacts. “You need a hospital.”

“I’ll go when this bastard is behind bars,” you said, lifting your chin at Franklin. “And you over there? You don’t make a sound, move a muscle, or else I give him back the gun and let him do whatever the hell he wants with it.”

You swore Franklin didn’t move a millimeter for the next hour while you waited for agents to arrive. An ambulance showed up as they escorted him out to the back of a car, driven away to the field office most likely. You got lucky and your cut looked worse than it was thankfully.

“Hey,” said Colter, taking a seat next to you on the front steps of the house. 

“Hey,” you said, holding an icepack to your head. He shifted and you felt his fingers brush yours, holding the pack in place for you so you could lower you arm. You sleepily smiled at him, Colter returning it. “Were you really going to shoot his balls and dick off?”

“Would you think less of me if the answer was yes?” You shook your head, resting it against his shoulder. “How long until the sedative wears off?”

“A few hours they think. How’s Dory?”

“Fine. She’s back home. Some agents are going to spend the night with her. You old partner picked them himself.”

“Good. Denny’s a good guy,” you said, shivering when a gust of wind caught you. Colter shrugged out of his only slightly bloody jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders. “You were laying it on kind of thick in there with the ‘you hurt my friend’ schtick, you know.”

“It wasn’t a schtick. He was going to do vile things to you too. That pissed me off.” 

“Still, you didn’t have to…” you stopped talking when he sat you upright, his eyes darting to your lips.

“There you go, doing that thing with your nose again,” he said, cupping your cheek. “You deserve to protected too, even if you are a badass, got it?”

You nodded, Colter smiling. “Good girl.”

“You think just because you saved me, you get to kiss me?”

“No, I think I get to kiss you because you think I’m objectively attractive.” 

“Shut up, Shaw,” you said, brushing your lips against his as you heard a squeal nearby that made you both flinch.

“Aha! I so knew you two were into each other!” said Dory, suddenly standing there with Denny trailing behind. “You guys were so eye fucking each other at the bar.”

“Dorian,” groaned Colter as Denny shook his head and came over, giving you a big hug.

“She’s right, he is cute,” he chuckled, earning a slap on the back from you. “What’d I tell you when I retired? Stay out of trouble. What’d you go and do?”

“It wasn’t my fault I’m smart,” you said, a wave of fatigue rolling over you. Colter placed a hand on your back when you wobbled. 

“We need to get her somewhere she can sleep this off,” he said.

“Come on kid, the guest room is all made up.” You were about to protest that he should stay with Dory when Denny cut you off. “I’m sure Colter can handle it. You can see them in the morning.”

“Fine,” you grumbled, both men helping you stand and over to Denny’s truck. They shared a word in private after getting you inside, your eyes drifting shut now that you were in the nice warm cabin.

“Y/N,” said Denny with the thud of a car door. You hummed, not bothering to even look at him. “You need anything?”

“I wouldn’t say no to food truck tacos before I pass out,” you said. 

“That’s my old partner,” he chuckled. “Let’s get you some dinner.”

Two Days Later

“Hey,” you said when Colter pulled up outside Denny’s place in his truck. Between countless meetings at the office, you hadn’t been able to catch up with him and Dory yet. You didn’t miss the way your stomach did a small flutter at seeing him again.

“Y/N,” he said with a subtle smile, walking around the truck, stopping where you were washing your dirt bike at the end of the driveway. “You trail ride?”

“Denny got me into it when I first got paired up with him years ago. He let’s me keep my gear in his garage. I think I might take a trip, hit some trails I always wanted to.” Colter nodded, biting his bottom lip. “Dory told you I quit?”

“Yeah. Not that I blame you,” he said. You wiped off the frame with a towel, Colter picking up the spare nearby and getting the wheel spokes for you. “I was thinking of heading over towards Park City.”

“For a job?” you asked. 

“Play,” he said, standing and handing you the towel. He shoved his hands in his jean pockets, cocking his head and doing that little shrug again. “I’m pretty decent at mountain biking myself you know.”

“Oh, are you?” you said, crossing your arms.

“He’s flirting, moron,” said Denny as he passed you on the way to the mailbox. You shot him your best bitch face, Colter stifling a laugh as Denny returned with a package and some mail in hand. “She’d love to go.”

“Denny! He could be a serial killer!” Denny ignored you, looking over Colter. 

“She’s never been good with boys you have to understand. Always ends up with duds,” he said, Colter nodding with a smirk. “Little bit of a workaholic this one. Probably a good fit for you though. Take her on one of those reward jobs when you two are done with the mountains.”

“Angela!” you shouted, Denny’s wife popping her head up where she worked in the flowerbed by the front of your house.

“Oh he has a point, honey. You are awful with men.” 

“I should have let Franklin kill me,” you muttered, rubbing your temples. Denny dodged your attempt at smacking his arm, laughing as he ran back towards the house. Your face was hot when you found Colter’s cheeky smile. “Let me guess. I’m doing the thing with my nose again.”

“So what if you are?” he teased, looking down at your bike, nodding his head. “If it makes you feel better, I’m pretty awful with women too.”

“I imagine it’s hard to do the relationship thing with a job like yours.” 

“Yeah,” he said quietly, pursing his lips. “We could just…go have some fun for a week. No strings.”

“Is that what you want? No strings?” you asked. For the first time, you noticed a small flush to his cheekbones, his eyes intense as they met yours. “So you can get flustered. Good to know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, hiding his shyness behind a cocky smile. 

“Answer the question, Shaw.” He looked up and then over your head.

“I wouldn’t…mind strings…with the right person if that makes sense.” 

“You two can take down a serial killer but you can’t ask each other out? No wonder your generation is screwed,” said Denny, going past again with a dirty car mat in hand. 

“You, quiet,” you said, pointing at him when he flipped you off. “You, Shaw. Park City. Whoever gets down the mountain fastest pays for dinner. Then you take me a reward job and by the end of all that, I think we’ll know how we want things to proceed, got it?”

“Yes ma'am.”

Two Weeks Later

“What are you giggling at?” you asked Colter. He chuckled underneath you in the airstream bed, his arm tightening over your waist. “Are you a giggly cuddler? Is this what I’m discovering?”

“I’m just thinking Dory’s never going to let us live this down when we tell her,” he said, pushing down the sheet on your back to trace up and down your exposed spine.

“I know,” you sighed. “How will she ever live with the fact you’re slow as fuck down a mountain?”

He gently smacked your ass, pointing a finger when you grinned. “You cheated.”

“You’re a sore loser,” you said, his hand brushing the hair out of your face, thumbing over your mostly healed mark on your temple. Your chin rested on his chest, Colter continuing to stroke over the faded scar. “If you’re thinking of telling Dory about us, does that mean you want me to stay?”

“I like the strings,” he said quietly, his warm hands traveling up and down the sides of your body. “This is what it’s like. A job, downtime, a job, downtime. S’all I know.”

“I get that,” you said, lowering your eyes to his chest. “It’s easy to get wrapped up in the job and forget to have a life.”

“Why’d you really quit? They would have promoted you back up I’m sure,” he said.

“They broke my trust. The only person that had my back was you.” He tipped his head forward, kissing your forehead. “I want to stay.”

“Well that’s good considering I wasn’t letting you go.” You smiled when he tucked your hair behind your ear. “So. Ladies choice. We take another job we don’t yet have or we head over to Washington, hit some trails, maybe I show you some rock climbing basics. Or we stay here in bed until further notice.”

“Such hard choices,” you said, Colter grinning and shifting his leg so you felt him poking you in the thigh. You sat upright, narrowing your eyes. “If you make a hard joke, I swear-”

“You’ll what?” he teased, flipping you around, body hovering over yours. You frowned up at him, Colter kissing the tip of your nose. “So you don’t want the bed option?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Shaw.” He raised his eyebrows, a dark smirk on his lips that had your hand flying to his mouth. “Do not say it you filthy gutter mind. Nothing in my mouth. Got it?”

“You make it so easy though,” he chuckled, burrowing his face in your neck, kissing under your jaw. You purred, Colter humming. “That’s my girl.”

“Bed. Washington. Job. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds like you like the strings too,” he mumbled trailing his hand down between your bodies. “I can’t blame you. You do drool over me.”

“Why don’t you shut that mouth of yours, Shaw and put it to better use?” you said, slipping your hands to his hips. 

“Whatever you say, beautiful.”

____________

A/N: Let me know what you thought and if you'd like to see more Colter x reader stuff in the future!

[umlewis]

Lewis Hamilton's 2025 Met Gala Look Is Loaded With Symbolism, Right Down To the Cuff Links

Fresh off the Miami Grand Prix, Lewis Hamilton raced to New York for the 2025 Met Gala, hitting the carpet with co-chairs Colman Domingo and Anna Wintour.

Hamilton has always nurtured a love for fashion. “I lived vicariously through magazines and music videos and films," he said in his May Vogue cover story. "The people I looked up to—it was Muhammad Ali, it was Michael Jordan, it was Eddie Murphy in Beverly Hills Cop wearing that cool leather jacket. And then a little bit later I started to learn about Cab Calloway, James Baldwin, Nelson Mandela, and André Leon Talley. I saw how their image was so important to them, and how they presented themselves through fashion."

For the 2025 Met Gala, Hamilton—something of a modern dandy himself—teamed up with Grace Wales Bonner for a thoughtful sartorial exploration of identity. Wales Bonner fashioned Hamilton an ivory suit with a cropped jacket, high-waisted trousers with a tuxedo stripe, coattails, a white bow tie, and an embroidered ivory sash hanging from his waistband. A beret by Stephen Jones Millinery added a final flourish. "We brought together a range of influences, from Barkley L. Hendricks paintings to Black spiritual dressing to some of the brand’s craft signatures,” Wales Bonner tells Vogue. “There are stories told through jewel adornments and special trims, with symbolism in baobab flower motifs and natural materials like cowrie shells and mother-of-pearl buttons." The designer also cites Calloway—specifically as he appeared in Harlem Nights—and Talley as prevailing influences.

Hamilton's Met look has been in the works for months. "My stylist, Eric McNeal, and I have been thinking about how I'm going to turn up at the Met Gala," Hamilton said in his Vogue cover story. "We're both very thoughtful and intentional when it comes to fashion, and I hope that everyone else attending is compelled to really research and think deeply about what they're wearing." No detail went overlooked in the driver's symbolism-heavy look. "We spent three months on research and two months bringing it to life. Nothing about it was rushed," McNeal tells Vogue. "So much care went into this look. What makes it special is that it's not just about fashion—it’s about meaning." The Harlem Renaissance proved a jumping-off point, “especially Cab Calloway and the way he used clothing to express confidence, charm, and something entirely new,” McNeal says of the jazz singer and bandleader. They also turned to Hendricks’s paintings, especially his striking white-on-white portraits that feature Black subjects dressed in white in front of a white background. “There’s something really powerful about that kind of restraint—how it can say so much,” McNeal adds. Hamilton, Wales Bonner, and McNeal also ensured that Hamilton’s identity was represented. “Lewis really wanted there to be a reason and a story behind every detail,” McNeal says. Wales Bonner lined Hamilton’s sash with cowrie shells—a protective talisman in African culture—while his ear cuffs, cuff links, and baobab-inspired brooches (which Wales Bonner made in collaboration with SNOW Diamonds) contain garnets, a nod to his January birth date, among white and amber emerald-cut diamonds. And his cuff links, shaped like the Whirligig African Daisy, were loaded with symbolism. “[They] felt like a beautiful metaphor for growth, memory, and African heritage,” McNeal says. Hamilton, of course, is no stranger to the Met Gala, having attended for the first time in 2015 for “China: Through the Looking Glass.” In recent years, he has taken to spotlighting Black talent and historical figures. In 2021, for “In America: A Lexicon of Fashion,” he hosted a table of rising Black talent, including Theophilio’s Edvin Thompson, Kenneth Nicholson, and Jason Rembert. Last year, he delivered one of his most powerful looks to date for “Sleeping Beauties: Reawakening Fashion,” paying homage to John Ystumllyn, who became the first Black gardener in Wales in the 18th century. At the 2025 Met Gala, Hamilton once again used fashion to shine a light on past trailblazers.

[bangladeshiqueermuslims]

Statement Condemning the Tragic Murder of Imam Muhsin Hendricks

It is with profound sorrow and outrage that we condemn the brutal murder of Imam Muhsin Hendricks, a courageous queer religious scholar and advocate for inclusivity and justice. In Bangladesh and elsewhere, religious zealots, Islamofascists, and Islamists are supporting the murder of Muhsin Hendricks and justifying the killing of queer Muslims. This heinous act is a grave injustice, an affront to the principles of Islam, and a stain upon humanity.

Islam is a religion of peace, love, mercy, and justice. It teaches us to stand by the oppressed and marginalized and to oppose oppression and injustice. The taking of an innocent life is one of the gravest sins in the sight of Allah. The Qur'an unequivocally states:

"Whoever kills a soul unless for a soul or for corruption [done] in the land—it is as if he had slain mankind entirely. And whoever saves one—it is as if he had saved mankind entirely." (Qur'an 5:32)

The Prophet Muhammad (SAW) also warned against such acts of violence, emphasizing the sanctity of life:

"The destruction of the entire world is lighter in the sight of Allah than the unjust killing of a believer." (Sunan an-Nasa’i 3987)

Imam Muhsin dedicated his life to fostering a more compassionate and inclusive understanding of Islam. His scholarship and advocacy sought to bridge divides, uplift marginalized voices, and remind us of the Qur'anic principle:

"There is no compulsion in religion. The right course has become clear from the wrong." (Qur'an 2:256)

To those who falsely claim to act in the name of Islam while committing acts of hatred and violence, we remind them that the Prophet Muhammad (SAW) never sanctioned murder, or harm against those with whom he disagreed. Regarding queer individuals, the Prophet Muhammad (SAW) protected a Mukhannath ( a queer and sexual minority group of early Islamic Arab) from a mob that sought to kill him/her/them. Our Nabi (SAW) exemplified patience, dialogue, and justice.

We call upon religious leaders, governments, & communities worldwide to unequivocally denounce such hate crimes and work towards a world where no person fears for their life due to their identity, beliefs, or advocacy for rights and justice. May those responsible for this crime be held accountable, and may Allah grant Imam Muhsin Hendricks eternal peace and elevate his rank among the righteous.

إِنَّا لِلّهِ وَإِنَّـا إِلَيْهِ رَاجِعونَ

"Indeed, to Allah we belong, and to Him we shall return." (Qur'an 2:156)

We reaffirm our commitment to upholding the true spirit of Islam—one of mercy, justice, and love for all humanity.

[sid-sn]

My Darling Irene

my Irene headcanons below cuz someone asked <3

all interpretations of characters are my own and it’s not historical or canonical accurate, will change based on the future canon updates

contains certain explicit content so please see the tags, outlast itself is a warning tbh

According to the voicelines she’s drugged and hypnotized by her husband and most of the time is just a very obedient trad wife. But they also mentioned she would argue with Easterman and wants to leave him after discovering he’s been drugging her. So in my headcanon her mental state is very unstable, she’s drifting in and out of the drugs effects, she’s not entirely lost and is constantly fighting against the manipulation of her husband.

But as the time settings is in the 1960s so the general environment is pretty misogynistic. She’s confused about the social role of a woman that she often questions wether this abusive marriage is expected to be normal or she’s going insane. (That’s when Avellanos comes in and change her entire worldview with lesbians sex)

As for the self harm wounds that’s solely because Easterman loves to have power over ppl so he makes her harm herself under drugs or hypnosis. (according to his conversation with Wernicke I assume he’s repulsed at hetero sex, probably because of his own gender dysphoria. So yes that misogynistic freak gets off to her pain is hardly a surprise) Irene usually doesn’t remember the process, so she mistaken those are because of her own alcoholism and depression. She hates herself and those wounds, would use bandages to hide them.

I headcanon she comes from a decent wealthy family, provided her with enough sense of self and knowledge but not enough to let her see beyond the social gender discipline. She met Easterman and his brother Stanley in high school, their relationship is kind of like the langermanns and Jessica situation in O2. Stanley secretly had a crush on her but unfortunately Irene only views him as a friend back then, too blinded by the feigned maturity of Hendrick and her family probably favors Hendrick over Stanley’s soft and pessimistic personality anyway. Both of the brothers are not mentally stable as they both grow up in an abusive household, unlike Hendrick who is good at hiding his fucked up mentality Stanley is very aware of his inability to provide her with a healthy relationship, but still he cares for Irene deeply. She later developed some feelings for Stanley after she’s stuck in the terrible marriage.

But then again we know too little about the brothers, the whole Easterman family is a giant mess. To elaborate on my headcanons on Easterman’s family will take another wall of text so I will skip that here, but I’m also very interested in that topic.

Anyway we know what happened to Stanley next(actually we don’t) Irene is absolutely devastated, would often see him in her dreams and drugs induced hallucinations. Sometimes Stanley appears to her in an unspeakable way(my explanation for the uniform kink, that police line is irrelevant to me idc), she’s terrified of her own infidelity but it’s a comfort to her nonetheless. She’d see him appearing as a corpse sometimes but he’d never been scary to her. Everything about Stanley is a comfort compared to her reality.

Her feelings regarding her husband is mixed. Deep down she hates his guts but the environment around her is making it impossible for her to leave, so her mind would probably develop a self protect mechanism that’s build around the fond memories with him before marriage, which leads to her thinking she still loves her husband. Also the drugs and hypnosis aren’t helping.

In conclusion she’s not a blank trad wife character to me, and I don’t think that’s what red barrels wanted her to be either.

[asfateentertwines]

Thinking about a baby Wylan who sets tiny traps all through the mansion. A loose nail on a floorboard, a tiny bell too close to the door dangling from a crooked light, a tiny chiseled hole in the door, and a tiny scrap of medal in the doorknob to jingle when it’s touched. Tiny things all over the mansion, mostly harmless but some just hints of the pain his father causes, acting as a desperate little security alarm for a terrified little boy.

How he grows up and they grow with him. How these little tricks feel like friends when they’re the only thing protecting him.

Wylan Van Eck sets them and Wylan Hendricks(-Fahey) takes them apart with a smug partner at his side.

Wylan with friends now, a real family, who disarms the inside protections and fills it with emotional ones. How it’s suddenly too loud with laughter to hear a little bell and how he doesn’t need it anyway. The only security lingers outside when the first people in his life step in to protect him first. Real security, not traps scattered in the floorboards.

The look on Jespers face as they take them apart lingers but the hurt doesn’t. The pride sticks - the strength of surviving fills the halls but it’s not alone. He’s not alone.

Just thinking about a Wylan who was always a fighter, even when he was small and scared. How he survived and finally made home a real one.

[makeucrawl]

Easterman using a ring gag on Coyle. Let Coyle get his throat bullied.

“Open Up”

tags: mouth gag, cuffs, lots and lots of saliva, no vomit but it gets close, Coyle’s mouth is referred to as a cunt, hc!Easterman

The wide ring gag locked directed behind Coyle’s teeth, propping his mouth wide open and stretching his lips into a perfect “O.” The thick plug that could be popped into place was like the cap to a shower drain.

A pair of cuffs around Coyle’s wrists connected to the belt of leather around his waist and gave him a limited range of movement.

It also prevented him from messing with his gag.

A bone deep ache had settled into his jaw, the joint permanently cranked to the farthest point of tension. His tongue pressed against the back of the plug in his mouth, straining to push it out. He was thirsty.

God, what he would do for a drop of water.

Struggling back onto his feet, Coyle stumbles out of the doctor’s bedroom and into his office.

Dr.Easterman sat at his desk, dark eyes peering over his glasses as he focused on his work. He smiled when he spotted Coyle, one hand teasing the end of his mustache, while the other beckoning him closer like a dog.

Once the officer was close, he held out his hand, and Coyle’s knees hit the carpeted floor a moment later. He pressed his cheek against Easterman’s palm, feeling the warmth of his touch seep into the metal rings of the gag. On the inside, his tongue pressed desperately against the back of the plug, eager to taste the doctor

“Let’s see how wet your face cunt is,” Easterman teased, starting to unscrew the plug to open up Coyle’s gaping maw.

Coyle’s eyes teared up, and he whimpered.

Dry. It was so dry.

The doctor removed the plug, cooing sweet nothings as he traced his fingers around Coyle’s straining lips. Coyle’s tongue, pink and glistening, poked out of the hole, straining upwards as it chased Easterman’s fingers.

Easterman grinned, the usual hungry look in his eye that Coyle was familiar with returning.

“What a good hole you have,” Easterman said. “Let get it nice and wet, hm?” He fisted Coyle’s hair, yanking his head up and back.

The prime asset wasn’t expecting the first wad of spit, eyes rolling backwards in bliss as he felt the moisture hit his tongue. He moaned in delight, wiggling eagerly for the second one, as Dr.Easterman chuckled.

“Just as greedy as the rest of you,” he chided.

He swiped two fingers over the puddle of drool on Coyle’s tongue to slick them up before sliding them deeper. Coyle’s body curled, spine arching as his gag reflex instinctively clamped down. The doctor’s thick fingers played with it like it was a toy.

He found the little ball of the officer’s uvula, pinching it firmly between two fingers as if he could milk more saliva into Coyle’s mouth. With a sharp squeeze, Coyle could no longer resist.

His eyes crossed as his body seized up, a choking gag wringing his body as his throat clamped down. A splatter of spit actually gushed out of his mouth, uncontrolled with the way his lips were pried open, and Coyle’s hands quivered behind him.

His hands jerked up, snapping to the end of the length of chain that kept them bound, but he was nowhere near close enough to push Easterman’s hands away. He had no way to protect himself, or his throat.

“O-ho-oh my,” Easterman said with a laugh, curling his fingers to stroke the backside of Coyle’s adam’s apple, fingering his throat like he would a pussy. “What a big orgasm that was! Good good boy! I’m so proud…”

Leland didn’t even register the language at first, still heaving for breath as Easterman’s fingers played with the now sopping hole of his throat. He gurgled, slumping backwards as Hendrick pulled his hands away to admire the web of saliva stretching between his fingers.

“What do you think?” Easterman said, wiping the mess on Coyle’s cheeks. “I think you deserve an orgasm like that every day, don’t you?”

Coyle’s cock twitched at the mention of orgasms. Once a month, Easterman would give Coyle a strong sedative and, using a thin vibrator and impeccable aim, milk the backed up cum from Coyle’s balls in a single session.

If the officer was good, Dr.Easterman would let him watch the recording afterwards.

It was the only proof Coyle had that the doctor had even touched him. The aching desperation never changed, and now Coyle’s balls never felt satisfied. The only evidence Coyle had of the pointless, ruined orgasm was the ten minute video Easterman would sit him down to watch and the picture of the half-full glass at the end of it.

Coyle didn’t even know what Easterman did with his cum afterwards.

Did he drink it?

Discard it like trash?

Coyle’s cock throbbed painfully and he whined.

Easterman tapped the side of his head lightly, dragging Leland’s thoughts back to the present.

“Don’t fade on me now,” Easterman tutted, slipping two fingers into Coyle’s mouth to grip his jaw and hold his face up. “We are nowhere close to being done.”

The cop groaned, lapping at his fingers, fighting to sit still.

“What a pretty cunt you have,” Dr.Easterman said, cocking his head with a smile, petting Coyle’s tongue. “Let’s see if I can make it squirt one more time.”

Coyle whined, now starting to connect the dots as Easterman’s fingers curled back down his throat, stretching out the tight muscles like a knot in a shoulder that needed to be rolled.

When Easterman nudged his gag reflex this time, Coyle couldn’t control himself.

There was nothing in his stomach to come back up, but he could feel the acidic burn of bile starting to climb. His eyes fluttered and he started to feel his throat clamp down.

It was the worst type of edge, and Coyle fought as if he were holding back an actual orgasm, wondering just how Easterman would punish him if he did throw up on the doctor’s hands. His stomach heaved with the effort of trying to keep its contents down, even as Coyle’s throat fluttered through its own edge.

And for a moment, Easterman kept him there, milking him gently through the shuddering contractions.

Finally, Coyle couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to pull away.

Eyes burning with tears, Coyle backed out just enough to have the doctor's spit-soaked fingers slip out of the clutch of his throat, resting on his tongue as he struggled to catch his breath. He sagged, his entire body shuddering with the effort, tears streaming down his cheeks as he sniffled.

Dr.Easterman chuckled, just letting his fingers rest on Coyle's twitching tongue. Coyle blinked tearful, red eyes up at him, starting to piece together his new reality.

“Let’s retire back to my room, hm? Wouldn’t want you to keep making such a mess in my office.” The doctor carefully helped the officer to his feet, then with a heavy arm wrapped around Coyle’s waist guided him back to the bedroom.

Easterman took him to the bed, knees spread to open up a spot between his legs for Coyle to kneel.

Coyle slumped into his proper place.

The doctor didn’t say a word as he rolled Coyle onto his back, pulling his toy between his thighs, before cupping Coyle’s chin and pulling his head backwards.

He was now staring at Easterman upside down, struggling to orient himself as he squirmed with the new position.

“Two more edges,” Easterman said. “Then I’ll make you squirt, and then we can go have a nice bath.” His hand reached for his belt and the officer’s breath grew loud and ragged.

Coyle’s new cunt had none of the finesse or control of his cock or his asshole. With his denial, he would have hit the edge quickly anyway but his gag reflex felt more sensitive than ever, especially since Easterman’s fingers had been deep in his throat only moments before.

With the new position, and the ever present gag, Easterman was able to peer straight down Coyle’s throat to the quivering nub of his uvula, bobbing with each nervous swallow.

It was too tantalizing of a target.

“It’s so much easier to find this g spot instead,” Easterman teased as he slowly adjusted the head of his cock to the entrance of the gag.

As thick blunt head began to slide past his tongue, Coyle gurgled, eyes crossing as his hands twitched against the cuffs.

“God, you’re fucking soaked,” Easterman said as a thick glob of spit slipped over the edge of Coyle’s mouth, snaking down his cheek and then his eye. “Sopping wet for me. Are you eager, darling? Do you want to cum?”

Coyle did, but he and Easterman weren’t thinking about the same thing.

His throat was starting to spasm, like a cunt approaching an orgasm, and the doctor was able to hold him there, cock slowly stuffing Leland’s throat.

“O-oo-oh , what a good boy!” Dr.Easterman cooed, petting his thumb over Coyle’s wet cheek as the cop went cross-eyes and hazy.

The cop croaked, and a splatter of spit left his mouth, but Easterman still didn’t pull out, only slowly inching himself in further.

“Hold it a bit longer for me, darling,” The doctor said, starting to gently stroke and tease the front wall of Coyle’s throat. “Hold it. Don’t cum for me yet.”

Leland was desperate to obey, his cock straining in confusion as it thought it was getting permission instead of Coyle’s mouth.

Face cunt, his thoughts helpfully supplied.

The head of Easterman’s cock tapped Coyle’s new g spot, and it was impossible to hold back then.

With a violent wretch, Coyle’s throat squeezed down, and even Easterman’s thick thighs couldn’t hold him in place as his body twisted. The cuffs dug into his wrists as every survival instinct in Coyle thrashed, and he knew that there would be marks that needed attention later.

All he could focus on was getting the next, unobstructed lungful of air inside of him.

A gush of saliva left his mouth, splattering on the bed sheets, and Coyle swayed, hazy, blinking tearful, blurry eyes down at the aftermath as his entire body shook.

“ Beautiful ,” Easterman breathed, almost in awe of his own work. He finally pulled his cock back, letting the officer crumple into a ball in front of him to recover just a bit.

Coyle could feel tears starting to burn in his eyes.

Already he didn’t like this--this new way of cumming. It didn’t have the same pleasure that his normal orgasms did, just ache and desperation and the sensation of a body that he didn’t have control over.

He felt Dr.Easterman’s fingers hook the back of the leather strap of the gag, using it like a collar to uncurl Coyle and pull him back up to a kneeling position.

“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this perfect cunt from me for so long,” Easterman chided, though there was no real disappointment in his voice. Always teasing.

He dipped two fingers back into Coyle’s mouth, and Coyle whined, shoving against them with his tongue, doing his best to prevent them from getting deeper.

It was a losing battle.

“Short refractory period,” Easterman continued.

Coyle felt his stomach starting to climb, the next heaving gag starting to build in his body as he felt Easterman pinch his vulnerable uvula yet again.

“And god,” Easterman groaned in appreciation, pumping his fingers through the thick puddle of drool in Coyle’s mouth, his face cunt squelching like an over-lubed asshole. “It can fucking squirt.”

Leland didn’t want this.

He twisted against Easterman’s grip, wanting to apologize for fighting the doctor but unable to stop his body from protesting the treatment.

It was survival instinct, the desire to breathe, the horrible sensation of violent retching that Coyle’s body instinctively wanted to avoid.

Now, the officer properly fought against the urge to “cum.” He didn’t want it. He didn’t like it. He wanted to avoid it at all costs.

And that only made a new game for Easterman to play.

He gritted his teeth in a wolfish smile, thick mustache curling upward, one hand splayed on Coyle’s throat to keep his head tipped back as Dr.Easterman started to finger fuck his face cunt with a bit more violence.

Up and down his thick fingers thrust, curling against the plush flesh of the cop’s throat, knocking against his g spot that dangled out in the open with no defenses or any way to hide.

It gave Coyle no fighting chance.

It was only Easterman’s mercy that he pulled back, stilling his fingers and pausing with just his middle one pressed down the back of Leland’s throat, letting the tight tube of flesh shudder in squeeze.

“Your are so beautiful like this,” Easterman said, wiping his thumb over the tear tracks trickling down Coyle’s cheeks.

“Ah, hah, ahn!” Coyle panted, barely able to muster the little noises of protest.

His drooling cock wasn’t as nearly messy as this new cunt was, and it made his cheeks hot with embarrassment. His tongue fluttered weekly, unable to fight Easterman’s thick fingers for long. His throat shuddered and squeezed through the edge as Easterman let him recover and catch his breath.

Easterman grinned down at him.

“Ready for one more?” he asked.

Coyle cried out, trying to twist his shoulders away, and the doctor tightened his grip.

“Sh, sh, sh,” he said, curling over Coyle’s sobbing face to comfort the poor man. “Just one more. I promise. Then we’ll give your poor cunt a chance to recover.” He grinned, having the audacity to look a little sheepish. “It’s just too much fun, Leland, I can’t help myself.”

Coyle’s face was a mess of sweat, tears and drool as Easterman started to work him up once again.

He avoided Coyle’s g spot, probably wanting to draw out this final one for as long as possible.

Coyle moaned, drawn-out sounds that pitched too high since the gag forced his mouth into a gape. But most of his noises were muffled by the squelched, wetness of his new cunt, Easterman’s new favorite toy it seemed.

“Come on, darling, come on,” Dr.Easterman coaxed, speaking into Leland’s mouth as if he were truly coaxing another lover to the peak of their pleasure. “Squirt for me, baby, I know you want to.”

Coyle didn’t, but like always, there was no disobeying Dr.Easterman.

He could feel the tell-tale shuddering, his throat starting to tighten. In any other context it would be defensive, trying to prevent the doctor’s bullying fingers from going deeper, but now, Leland could only imagine it as his body trying to suck them deeper.

Easterman’s knuckles scraped against his g spot, compressing it to one side, and Coyle’s eyes rolled back in his head as his body seized.

He saw white, his entire body trembling. His wrists twisted, the cuffs digging into the skin and making him gurgle desperately.

Coyle had never cum so hard before in his life. His cock pitiful spilled un touched, its spend landing all over the sheets below.

Drool bubbled up in his mouth, spilling over his chin to drip down onto his neck. It was soaking into Coyle’s beard, and Easterman still didn’t let up.

He jackhammered his fingers into Coyle’s cunt, curling them to search for any new sensitive spot that would make the cop wheeze.

The lack of air was starting to make Coyle’s head spin, and he was no longer putting up such a fight. Dr.Easterman was still working his cunt, forcing schlick, sopping squelches from Coyle’s hole as he drove the slut to another orgasm fight on the heels of the other.

Coyle gurgled, toes curling as his eyes crossed, and then Easterman was rewarded for his hard work.

A clear jet of saliva arched from Coyle’s mouth, splattering across the sheets in front of him as his body stiffened.

Easterman immediately pulled back, cradling Coyle’s throat and watching the rhythmic clenching of his face cunt, shuddering through the waves of pleasure and riding the orgasm ripped through it by Easterman’s fingers.

“There we go, there we go,” Easterman coached soothingly, patting Coyle’s cheek as he wheezed and shuddered, his face a shiny mess of sweat, tears, and drool. “Oh my , what a big orgasm. You’re so pretty when you cum for me.”

“Alright,” he said, keeping his used hand extended so he wouldn’t get the rest of his body dirty from Coyle’s mess. “Let me clean myself up, and then we can have that bath.”

Coyle didn’t respond, just moaned in appreciation as Easterman eased his body forward to let him slump onto the mattress to try to catch his breath.

Dr.Easterman stepped into the bathroom that was attached to the bedroom, and Coyle listened as the tap turned on and the doctor hummed, cleaning himself up.

Coyle’s tongue hung out of his mouth, limp and wrung out from the ordeal. His throat felt sore and scratchy, truly like a cunt. His brand new g spot felt like an entire bruise, and Coyle was already shivering in fear at the thought of the doctor playing with it further.

Coyle wanted nothing more than to have the cap put back in place, covering his poor new cunt and protecting it from any other overstim that Easterman might feel inclined to provide.

In the bathroom, Easterman finished scrubbing his hands clean on a towel, tossing it over a rack and stepping out to collect Coyle once again.

“Come on up,” he said, supporting Coyle under his arms and hoisting him to his feet.

Coyle swayed, unsteady for a moment, before he was able to lock his knees and stay standing.

Easterman ruffled his hair as a reward.

“There’s my big strong boy,” he said. “Now,let’s get you cleaned, huh?”

Coyle didn’t want to go to the bath. He wanted to sleep but his body did feel horribly sticky. The officer could only nod weakly in response.

“Here,” he said, picking up the cap for the plug and screwing it back into place. “Give you at least a little dignity covering up that tempting little cunt.”

Coyle flushed, wanting to duck his head in embarrassment, but the doctor wouldn’t let him escape.

“After my work is done for the day,” Easterman said, bracing a hand on Coyle’s back to drag him along back to the bathroom. “I might want to have another go at that cunt—“

Coyle groaned and shook his head, tugging his sore wrists against the cuffs still binding his arms.

“I think you’ll look really pretty cumming your brains out around that nice, big toy,” Easterman continued, ignoring Coyle’s protests completely. “What was the record for cumshots you managed with your useless little cock?”

Coyle flushed hot, grunting behind his gag.

“That’s right, it was thirteen,” Easterman said, as if he could make sense of Coyle’s noises. “I think it’s time we try to break that record.”

Coyle swallowed hard, feeling his muscles squeeze down, somehow hyper aware of the g spot still dangling in his cunt. Every little breath was enough to stimulate it, and the threat of a dildo battering its way halfway into his throat was enough to make Coyle start squirming all over again.

He could edge himself at this rate, just by breathing. With the bruises Easterman had forced into the muscles, Coyle’s face cunt would be feeling the ache for at least a couple days.

He followed the doctor to the tub, eyes down.

The tip of his cock still glistened from his climax . That part of him wasn’t as nearly as wet as he knew cunt. It also didn’t cum the same either.

Easterman seemed to like the new, explosive orgasms he could now wring out of Coyle’s body without the risk of him cumming from other parts of his body.

And now, Easterman had a record to beat as well.

[mrshapeandmrshifter]

What your favorite Echo character says about you

TJ Hess

You repeat this word everyday "Babyboy must protect, Babyboy must protect" your often protecting your babyboy and babying them even if they are a 25 adult who married and has a kid thier still is your babyboy

Carl Hendricks

You have close relationship with one of your homies you are chill together did a lot of things together and pretty talk about everything together if the two of you are single in your 30s just married each other

Leo Alvarez

You either believe that Leo did nothing wrong and deny every single red flags he has or you just think that red flags are fashionable or quirky you probably have gone on internet fights defending him and his actions mostly about him and Jenna

Jenna BeGay

You admire Girlbosses you support women rights but you especially support women wrongs you want to be dominated by someone stronger than you and probably shorter than you, also you go to internet fight defending her character and debate on who worse between Leo or Jenna

Chase Hunter

You love people who are totally useless, a absolute mess and a complete fuck up if they at least do the dishes it doesn't do it for you. You love the Chunter moment where just randomly insults people like Micha or Julian

Flynn Moore

You absolutely hate what the writers did to him in the end of TJ and his route you and ready to fight God himself to give Flynn a happy ending he deserves. Chances are you have a type for tsudere and you like a lot kinky fuck up shit in bed or you like fishing maybe both

Sydney Bronson

Your either the most straightest gay man ever or the gayest straight man ever either which you like manly things, have a grinder account and wish you could break a twink in half

[issela-santina]

Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol

aka

oh don't bother me I'm not here for the jazzy prison riot, I'm here to talk to my wife, Simon Pegg, through the surveillance camera

Nicholas Angel looks like he could impersonate Lady Margot Fenring but the mask maker said no and died on him

Jeremy Renner's dream come true: shouting at Tom Cruise

Paula Patton doing the impossible: kicking ass in a mini pencil dress

(this bullet point is specifically dedicated to the brain cell in me who pretends it's a DJ and who decided to play „Sandstorm“ by Darude)

what we need is an explanation about at which point Benji underwent an aesthetic twink death DILF birth between this movie and Rogue Nation

Bogdan and Ethan are actually shippable but so are Ethan and Sidorov. imagine your enemies to lovers

The Impossibles [insert the swelling horns from the scene where Mr. Incredible found out about the deaths of his fellow supes]

EVERYTHING IS BROKEN. THE GADGETS. THAT BITCH WHO KILLED MY COLLEAGUE THAT I KICKED OFF THE TALLEST TOWER IN THE WORLD. KURT HENDRICKS. ME (almost)

Brad Bird seeks revenge on Pixar

Paula Patton looks great in aquamarine actually

“and I catch you” (Branji can I ship?)

Brandt tries to be tough but ends up being a cinnamon roll

Michael Giacchino's punny score saga, I lost count

Pluto is still a planet to me, Benji!!

how to straight flirt with a rich af bigwig who thinks every guy you hang out with is your bf

the sweaty Brandt shot hits different when you survive a heat wave

“oh I thought it was a bigger org but it's just two guys and one of them is a hopeless atomic sadboi”

Benji confesses his love to Ethan and shares his condolences about Julia in the fucking Kremlin. from Russia with love

“next time, I seduce the rich guy” oh Brandt don't you worry ;)

the one true MVP here is the airbag in that BMW Ethan used to nosedive to Hendricks's nuke case

Luther judging Ethan for saying MISSION: ACCOMPLISHED out loud is all of us

Benji truly has autism and it shows. his mouth is his third hand. he's in missions because Ethan likes him back. he sometimes mantra-izes his words into something worth repeating. shaky but focused

omg. Julia. alive. she knows. that her husband's new boyfriend is also a bit protective of her by extension

[onebillionsharks]

Remembering I have free will and a watercolor set… more CAIN art!

Minerva, an owl-like hound type sin standing upon spindly broken limbs; bound to exorcist Mabel Hendricks. Covered in glass-like spines, black blood drips slowly from each wound on her body. With every movement, her bones crack out of place as if trying but failing to assimilate to her new body. Minerva’s idle silence is often broken by the labored sound of breathing, or on occasion, a strained cry from what remains of her vocal cords. Though she appears protective of May, it is unknown if this is of her own volition.

Minerva is monstrous in most ways, though many have noted that her eyes (sunken into her skull) remain eerily and unmistakably human.

[infested-screens]

What are some of your “shocktherapy” headcanons~?

SHOCKTHERAPY HEADCANONS

SFW:

I don't they're exclusive to each other especially not Hendrick.

Definitely a open relationship more so even then they're in more of a situation ship.

Though I think Hendrick is in one with most of his prime assets. Cause they're so "special" to him.

Definitely loves to compare Coyle to a dog so some times using pet names like mutt or dog.

Makes sure to have a handkerchief at all times when Coyle is drooling too much or spilling his drink.

Might tease him a little just a “Where would you be with out me, hmm~?

Coyle sometimes gets a little protective of Hendrick sometimes, small growls or huffs when people are “close” in his eyes.

Definitely has bitten him on multiple occasions out of jealousy or just absentmindedly cause I think Easterman likes to look at his teeth since they’re extremely sharp.

They have a strange relationship but it’s definitely all in respect for each other, even if they argue or fight sometimes

NSFW: <under the cut>

Lots of pet play between them. Collars, muzzles, leashes, harnesses, and etc.

Dog like pet names too like puppy or pup from Hendrick if Coyle is being a good boy.

Though leans more to mutt or dog if he’s bad.

Hendrick definitely like being in control during these situations weathers it’s topping or bottoming.

They do a lot with electrical play too,

Coyle definitely was gifted a custom made shock collar just for him.

Might be made to wear it while working too just to see him get so fired up from the shocks.

Hendrick 100% loves seeing Coyle on his knees in front of him looking up, tugging on the leash so he’s pressed against him.

Once in a blue moon Coyle gets to be in charge but only when Hendrick is too stressed to give any orders and needs something to relax him.

So why not let the dog have a small treat but is still wearing the collar.

I think Hendrick would also find Coyle’s almost canine like teeth a bit arousing too just cause having something so dangerous near something so sensitive just gets the blood flowing.

Same with biting, clawing, and growling.

Just he loves how feral the other can get/sound during these times while also sounding so pathetic.

[preservationofnormalcy]

[The office is crowded when I make it in. A few dozen people in the waiting room of the simply-furnished building, weary eyed. Some waiting patiently, some not so patiently. As a slender man speaks tersely with a receptionist, I am unsure where to go. After I hesitate a moment, a man at the end of the desks waves at me. 

He is short, barely over five feet tall. He is bald on the top of his head, with bursts of frizzy hair on either side above his ears. His eyes inspect me from behind huge and thick glasses rimmed with a brassy metal, above a  brown corduroy suit with a green tie. When he speaks, he has a slight lisp and a heavy stammer.] 

F] Hello. Uh. Yes, h-hello madam. 

M] Ferdinand Mills? 

F] Yes. Yes, co-come here. May I have a word?

M] Yes, of course. 

F] I ch-choose the word, uh, ‘interview’. 

M] What? 

F] Nothing, nothing madam. Come, come.

[I am led back behind the counters, past small cubicles and offices. It looks like any other office building I’ve been in, if furnished a little more…vintage. Kelly greens and dark brown woods dominate the furniture, and brassy metal fixtures catch the somewhat dimmer light. I’m led into Ferdinand’s office, and immediately I see piles and piles of paperwork, stacked almost impossibly high in some places. His computer is buried in it, and for a moment I wonder about the heat. He sits at his desk and laces his fingers together.] 

F] I, umm. Was told of your c-coming, madam. What….what is your purpose here? 

M] I’m here to conduct a….to….. 

F] Mmmh? 

M] To….conduct a….what is happening, why can’t I—

F] You may, uh, have it back. 

M] Interview. Interview, interview. What the hell, I….oh. 

F] A p-parlor trick. Nothing, uh, more, Ms Hendricks. 

M] Why did you do that? 

F] Some, uh, new agents don’t quite understand the ru-rules. Think it’s a g-game. Until they’re uh….

[He gestures with his palm down and fingers wiggling.] 

F] On the end of a…string, madam. M-marionette. 

M] So you just…take something from them? 

F] B-better it be me, than, ah. Something else. Please. Y-your interview, madam. Your questions? 

M] As long as you don’t do that again. 

F] Queen’s, uh, honor. On the Court. 

M] ….what is your name and position?

F] I am called F-Ferdinand Mills, and I am the director of the Legal Extranormal Persons Office, as well as, ah, liaison to the North American Seelie Court. 

M] What do you do in either position? 

F] In the f-former, I am a social worker, ah. Mostly. We oversee the process of g-gaining legal personhood under the Office and the work that entails. It’s a little like….im-immigration. 

The latter position is m-mostly ceremonial. I help the Office train its staff on issues related to the Fa-Fair Folk and…perhaps the, ah. Challenges. 

M] What is legal personhood? 

F] B-before the 1937 Tom-Tommyknocker Accords, it was Office policy that non-humans were not g-giv–ah, extended the rights and privileges afforded to h-human citizens by the US constitution. Not, not that they applied to humans equally either…b-but I digress. The Accords provided a legal f-framework for providing citizenship and thus legal p-protection to non-human or sufficiently str-ah. Abnormal persons. 

M] Why is it called the Tommyknocker Accords? 

F] The camp-cam….effort was led by Tommyknockers, an ethnic group of Fair Folk that w-were among the first to im-immigrate with Cornish humans and took up residence mainly in m-mines. Their presence was, ah, of course never officially re-recognized by American authorities, but they often had union cards, paid for by their human c-coworkers. This s-sort of solidarity led the Tommyknockers to seek some kind of rights from the g-government, which gained the ear of the Office in the nine-ninetee-ah. In the 30’s. In return for the local S-seelie Court’s cooperation in protecting humans from the actions of r-rogue fae, fair folk would receive legal p-protection and citizenship, and c-considerations for those that can, ah, pass as human.

M] And this has been extended to…more than just fae?

F] V-very soon after it was started, work began on expanding it to lycanthropes, the undead, demons…by now there are art-artificial intelligences, homunculi, extraterrestrials…

M] Do you think the department is successful in its goals? 

F] Our g-goals are to help promote a culture of protection for those who may not have had it in the past. It’s a matter of civil rights. The astoundingly vast majority of people that come through here….all they want is to live p-peacefully and be left alone, more or, ah, less. 

I hope you-you can agree that people of all stripes should have a fundamental right to exist without legal d-discrimination or fear. Of course, given the Office’s secrecy standards, certain concessions have to be made. 

And, to be cyn-cynical, there’s also the goal of providing those people a route of, ah, legal redress. If we didn’t ex-extend certain protections to the extranormal population, they’d riot. And they’d be justified in, ah, doing so. 

M] That seems like an important point. What about your position as fae liaison. How did the Office’s cooperation with the NASC begin?

F] As the Accords were being f-formed, it was determined, primarily from the T-Tommyknockers, that enough Fair Folk had, ah, immigrated to North America that they had formed their own C-court. This would allow the local f-fae to determine their own law, culturally influenced by but separate from o-older Courts. The culture of this court was still diff-different than many in Europe and elsewhere, of course, and this probably contributed to the success of the Accords. M-many wanted a fresh start, for them-themselves, and with mortals. Some of them were half-human themselves. My f-father was among those present at the Accords, ah, in fact.

M] And this has been a successful relationship, in your opinion?

F] I know s-so. The country would be a very different place if we had powerful groups like the NASC opp-opposed to us.

M] I did want to ask about the, uh. Recon team—

F] I won’t s-s-speak on that without an ethics r-r-representative being p-present. 

M] I just wanted to know what their—

F] If LEP is imm-immigration, Recon is immigration en-enforcement. I have my i-issues with how the R-r-recon team conducts its— no, no, no, I won’t speak on it further. 

M] Are they the main enforcement and security agency in the Office?

F] I said I wouldn’t— nnnhf. F-first line. F-first contact. If it seems like too much for them, we call O-Sec. Then it’s out of our h-hands. Now if you please, if you’d like to kn-know more about R-recon, speak to someone in Recon. 

M] Do their operations bother you?

F] Ms Hendricks, I–

M] Or are they a necessary evil? 

F] N-n-no evil is necessary, Ms Hendricks. I won’t speak f-f-further on it. In fact, ah, I, uh, I believe we are done t-talking. Reschedule another interview if you m-must. 

(Buy the poster here!)

[staytinyville]

OUTLAW (47)

ATEEZ poly!ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU / Wild West

Series Masterlist

Warning: none

A/N NOT BETA READ. We have only two more chapters left of this arc! After that I might be taking a break for a bit. Not only to focus on some original novels I have planned but to also have a few chapters ready for you all to read. Cause this having to write chapters the day of updating--hate it lol.

It was a quick affair for when someone had come in to take away Hendricks. He struggled for a moment but after Wooyoung got annoyed with the man’s shouting and fighting, he was quick to shove a rag into the man’s mouth. Seeing as he was cuffed, Hendricks was only able to huff and puff into the fabric. 

When you turned back around to face Klein you watched as he was looking over the papers once more. He had a somber look on his face, one of regret as he sighed at each word that seemed to process into his head. 

“I'd like to thank you for bringing this to my attention.” Klein said, not meeting any of your eyes. 

“You don't seem like it.” Hongjoong raised his brows, crossing his arms as he stood in front of the man. 

“You're still criminals in the eyes of the public.” Klein finally looked up, sighing to himself as his eyes skimmed over all nine of you. 

“We understand.” You spoke up. “You're a respectable man who has a city to protect.”

You watched as Klein suddenly thought about the entire town, going back to clenching his jaw as he began to think lowly of himself. It was a tough job to take on, especially for a town that was the second most populated. You were never going to be able to make everyone happy, but you were able to make the world a better place. At least in your own image.

Your family had always supported Klein–a vast majority of the town did–so he must have felt a heavy pressure on his shoulders knowing that he was close to putting all of them in danger. There aren't many people you are able to trust when it comes to positions in office, especially not with times growing more and more. People were getting greedy as things began to change, which led to problems. But that shouldn’t stop the few who were trying to keep things at peace from doing what they must. 

While Klein had the right intentions–wanting to see Cromer grow into a modern city–he didn’t realize he would fall into a pit of snakes. Human era was inevitable. You were just glad to have stopped everything before it got too far. 

“Will you leave soon?” Klein asked. 

“We have a mission to finish.” Yunho explained. “This was only a side quest.” He chuckled.

Klein huffed a little laugh, pressing his lips together. “This drug.” He asked, tapping on the papers and envelopes. “What happens if it gets out?”

“The world falls.” Seonghwa answered. “It becomes baron of the joys we see everyday.”

“We've seen what it could do.” Jongho called from the back of the group. “It's not something this world should suffer from.”

“Why hasn't Aurora done anything then?” Klein shook his head, not understanding the whole thing. 

“They don't have evidence to prove corruption yet.” Hongjoong told the mayor. “That's what we've been trying to do for the past couple of years.”

The man took a moment to gather his thoughts before moving to grab the things from his desk. “Here.” Klein began to gather all the papers between Quaid and Hendricks, handing them over to you. “Take these then.” He told you.

“What about Quaid?” Mingi asked.

“I've already sent people after him.” Klein answered the boy. “We'll take care of him here in Cromer seeing as it's my jurisdiction.” He turned to look at you, giving you a thankful bow of his head. “Should anything else come to light though, I'll be sure to send word to you.”

“Thank you, Mayor Klein.” You smiled in thanks. 

You watched as he suddenly clapped his hands, rubbing them together. He gave you all a raise of his brow, pursing his lips. “You've all committed crimes that should be punishable but it seems to me you're all hard to catch.”

All of you suddenly looked at him oddly, frowning a bit at his words. You were a bit worried that Klein would somehow punish the boys for all they had done, but as you registered the rest of his sentence you concluded that wasn’t going to be the case. 

“You're letting us go?” You said, being the first to realize what it was he meant. 

“If what you say is true about this drug, then it seems we have a common enemy.” Klein nodded to himself. “I have a city full of people to keep safe. It's what I signed up for as mayor of Cromer.” He took a breath, coming to a stand. “I'll tell the city it wasn't you who stole the money.”

“Tell them you had money left over.” Hongjoong suggested. “You'll be seen as the hero again.”

“As much as one would love to take credit for that, I could not.” Klein shook his head. “I was going to send that money somewhere terrible. I could never live with myself had you not taken it.”

Your shoulders dropped at the man’s convention. He was right in thinking a majority of people would have loved to take the glory and credit for saving the town, but Klein wasn’t a majority of people. He was someone selfless who took care of others first. It was something each of the boys were quick to realize after speaking with him more. 

At least by what you could tell from the looks on their faces. 

“What will you say then?” Wooyoung asked. 

“The truth.” Klein spoke up, smiling as he thought it over. “ATEEZ were the ones who took the money.” He smiled, watching as the boys all gave him skeptical looks. 

“They have never seen your faces.” The mayor added. “I don’t believe they will suspect 8 handsome, young men who work for one of Cromer’s hotels. Unless you have warranted for people to think that.” Klein joked. 

The boys all looked at each other for a moment, humming in thought as they pondered on what they had all done so far in your town. “They haven’t.” You answered for them, sending them looks that called for them to behave. 

You turned back to Klein, bowing your head and giving him a smile. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Klein nodded his head, giving you a kind smile as well. 

Just as the boys all turned one by one to leave the office, you suddenly gasped, stopping to turn back around. “One more thing!” You called back.

“Yes?” Klein answered. 

“My father.” You began. “He's kind of in jail at the moment.”

Klein laughed, nodding in understandment. “I'll have him released, don't worry.”

“Thank you, Mayor.” You bowed one more time, turning to Hongjoong who waited closer to you.

“Be careful on your mission.” Klein called out before you all left the door. “It doesn't seem easy.” He added. 

You watched as the boys gave each other knowing looks again, Hongjoong sighing as he bowed his head. “It never is.”

Series Masterlist

@thefrog3223 , @iarayara , @0rangemilk , @explorewithd , @detectivedoodle , @bangtanxberm , @a1i33a , @loveforred , @drunken-deitence , @0325tiny , @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest , @atinyreads , @atinytinaa , @lexiigom , @smilingtokki , @mismatchfluffysocks , @brain-empty-only-draken , @sousydive , @alex-tinyy , @h3arteyes4mingi , @onedumbho3 , @popcatx0 , @blue1amory , @mommahwa1117 , @sunnyhokyu , @cloudieclair , @puppyminnnie

[the-vixen]

𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥 : 𝙀𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙃𝙪𝙣𝙩 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

PART 13 PART 14 -------- MASTERLIST

When you are sent on a mission to rescue Ethan Hunt from prison, the events that domino will force you to face the ghosts of your past and your guilt tied to Ethan.

This takes place throughout the events of ghost protocol. There will be a change in the story and the events of the mission impossible 2 and 3. Ethan and Julia never got married, a certain amount of information will be changed that will be revealed in the story.

"Y/n you weren't the reason I went to rankov! you were in a coma!" 

"What?"

You looked at him in shock, that wasn't possible. You were never in a coma and you never have been. You were just in the infirmary for a day and that was it. Even if you were, it wouldn't erase your fuck up and why Ethan really went to prison. The secretary would've told you. It would've been reflected in your record. 

Ethan took another step towards you. "You risked your life to protect the asset...they bombed the warehouse in order to kill two birds with one stone.." he began explaining. "You risked your life but the explosion knocked you out cold...you were unresponsive and bleeding when I found you...and.." he took a breath, "the asset was working with them. She had the IMF fooled and she was ready to have her men kill you.....I....I couldn't let that happen." he watched you.

You stayed quiet, confusion overtaking your features as you desperately tried to recall any semblance of the events Ethan's recounted. 

"You were in the infirmary for two months...unconscious....the medics said you were lucky to be alive and recommend benching you...so I told the secretary to bench you." he confessed. 

You looked at him and stepped back. 

Ethan told him to bench you? 

why?

Your silent question went answered by him, "I told him to make something up that you wouldn't fight against....he decided to pull you from IMF and put you on probation....and I signed off on it.." Ethan continued. 

Your emotions cycloned within you. 

Confusion, frustration, guilt, betrayal. 

Ethan got you pulled from the IMF.

Ethan encouraged it. 

why?

Because you got hurt? 

Because a fucking doctor recommended it? 

"I was gonna be your handler but Julia got abducted..." he watched you. "but her kidnappers weren't after Julia....they were after you." 

What the fuck?

You watched Ethan, "why....why would they be after me..?" 

He took a breath and answered, hesitant, "they assumed we were together. They knew your name and profile...but not face. they abducted Julia thinking she was you and wanted to use you against me for something that happened before Ukraine....and I knew that once they realize Julia's not you...theyd kill her and come after you..." he explained.

"why does it matter? you shouldve let them and gotten Julia back---you shouldve bargained--" 

"--I couldn't let another person hurt you." he cut you off. 

Waves of shock kept moving over you as each piece of the puzzle was revealed. 

"Those Serbians..." you began. 

"..They were mercenaries out to get you...I took them down and went to rankov to find out about Hendricks and the person who knew about you." 

You closed your eyes, "and Julia?" 

"Julia....she..she knew. before she was taken she knew how I really felt and she told me that it was best if we separated. I wanted her to live her life without any ties back to me so I asked Luther to help me build a new life for her." Ethan watched you. 

"how you really felt?" you asked then, each piece of information bringing new questions to the table. 

"How I felt about you." Ethan took a step towards you and cupped your cheek. 

You looked at him hesitantly, unsure of where this was going, "how....how do you feel about me Ethan..?" you whispered, electricity running through you as soon as he touched your cheek. 

"Im...Im fucking crazy about you y/n..." he confessed, your heart stopping at his words. "I knew from the day I met you that you'd be death of me. I knew from the time in Ukraine I loved you and I would do anything to keep you safe. I knew after seeing you in the infirmary I cannot and I dont want to exist in a world where you aren't alive...." his other hand came up to your waist. 

"All I could think about in Rankov was how much I missed you and I needed you. I needed to hear you, to see you, to listen to you taunt me and nag me and do all the crazy shit with me. to watch your hair fall into your face and to listen to you rant about the latest thing you've learned and to sparr with you and watch that cocky smile appear on your face whenever you win. You've been with me through everything and you know me better than I know myself and It killed me to be away from you. To not know how you were doing and handling the probation. I knew it would hurt you but I needed to keep you safe because I couldn't see you in that state again..I knew it had to be that way in order to ensure your safety.....when you showed up with Jane I couldn't believe it and all I could think about was how much more beautiful you got since the last time I saw you and how much danger you could be because of this mission...." 

"ive just wanted to kiss you since I first saw you but I had to make sure that this mission wouldn't hurt you..I hated playing into your doubts and fears of yourself and your intuition y/n...I had to work in the moment but there's never been a second where I truly doubted you. id trust you with my life..I always will..I just wasn't ready to play with yours..." Ethan looked into your eyes.  

You struggled for words, emotional and mesmerized by everything hes said. You felt angry at him but to an extent if the roles were reversed you would've done the same. amongst all the waves in your mind, you asked, "the kiss...in Mumbai..."

Ethan's thumb caressed your cheek, looking over the details of your face. "I could've tested my hunch another way..but I just...it was so hard...I told myself that if It confirms or denies my hunch it'd be worth it but I had to kiss you...it felt like everything ive been doing was worth it...I would've kissed you in Dubai but I had to protect your feelings...I didnt want to overstep my grounds...." his mouth traced your lips. "but then you looked like that in that dress and you moaned when I kissed you and your lips suddenly became so fucking addicting...."

You bit your lower lip, eyes falling half lidded as your mind flashed back to the kiss. So full passion, so full of unsaid confessions. a new addition to the secret language you shared with Ethan. 

"Fuck..." he muttered, watching your action. "this is a challenge isn't it?" 

You hummed, your hand sliding up his chest and going to rest on the back of his neck. 

"y/n.." he warned, "you've always been a fox, yknow that?" he muttered under his breath. 

"What do you mean...Ethan..?" you looked up at him. "im just...letting myself go too....its not been easy without you....I hated it.." you admitted.

Ethan met your gaze, before moving forward to capture your lips in his own. 

Just like Mumbai, a fire ignited in your chest as you kissed him back eagerly, pulling him to you as if he didnt immediately press you against him. Your lips moved in tandem with his, releasing every emotion and unsaid confession against each other. You stumbled back as he kissed you deeper, falling onto your bed and pulling him with you. 

Ethan, ever efficient, didnt break the kiss, moving his hands over your body and tangling his fingers into your hair, kissing you passionately. 

You broke apart for air, watching him move ontop of you and kiss your neck, "Ethan.." you called softly, cupping his cheek. He looked at you and turned his head to kiss your palm. "dont leave...please..regardless if you think I might be in danger...even if I am...let me handle it..ill be fine.." you requested softly. 

You knew this would disrupt the moment, but before you both went any further you need to make sure he knew. 

"Please. I want to be with you..we're team..I want us to stay that way too.." you spoke. 

Ethan closed his eyes briefly, "okay..okay...I promise to protect you.." he whispered, kissing your lips. 

You kissed him back, content.

--------

That's it for this series! thank you for reading this far. The story doesn't end here for these two though; follow them through the events of Rogue Nation and see what further secrets Y/n has hidden away ..

[wickedsrest-rp]

Drew Marley She / her

"In the ocean I slip from my skin into the soul of the sea."

SPECIES: Selkie OCCUPATION: Marine Conservationist AGE: 25 Years Old PLAYED BY: Kayla FC: Madison Bailey

BIOGRAPHY:

TW: Parental death, sibling death

Kailani Hendricks was born into a tight-knit family of selkies as the youngest child and only daughter. The family resided near Zuma Beach in Malibu, California and aside from the their shapeshifting abilities they were surprisingly normal: her parents owned a beachside surf shop that was popular among locals and tourists alike, her brothers both heavily protected and mercilessly teased her, and Kailani herself was a decent student and gifted surfer. Most of her favorite childhood memories include waking up early on the weekends or during summer break and heading down to the beach with the rest of her family to enjoy the entire day out in the water, the ocean being her place of refuge.

As she grew older her love for the ocean and its many inhabitants developed into a passion for protecting them which led her to studying marine biology in college in order to become a marine conservationist. Having found a career that aligned with her interests and passion Kailani had been well on her way to creating a fulfilling life for herself before her entire world was turned upside down.

After a relatively uneventful day underwater, the Hendricks family returned to their usual secluded, hard-to-reach spot of Zuma Beach to shed their pelts in peace and begin the journey home when they were ambushed by hunters. Outnumbered and eventually overpowered, the selkies fell one by one despite putting their all into the fight. At one point during the struggle Kailani was presented with a clear path away from the bloodbath and turned to yell at the rest of her family to follow, unaware of just how severe the attack truly was. She saw her father and both brothers face down in the blood-soaked sand while her mother continued to struggle against her attackers, although it was obvious that it wouldn’t be long before she too lost the strength to continue defending herself. For a split second Kailani met her mother’s eyes and started to make her way back across the beach but was stopped when her mother yelled for her to run. Unable to waste another second, Kailani did as she was told and grabbed her pelt as she sprinted away from the scene.

In a rush she packed as many valuable belongings as she could as well as a few keepsakes to remember each member of her family by, all while fighting against the shock that threatened to slow her down. What she needed was a distraction, something that would allow her more time to come up with a long term plan. The hunters had watched her flee the beach and she knew that it was only a matter of time before they showed up on her doorstep to finish what they’d started. As she coaxed herself to continue moving she had a thought: she had gotten away from the initial attack but, as she looked down at her body to take in the full damage that had been done to her, no one could argue that a few of her injuries looked fatal. She suddenly remembered the important item in the attic, her grandmother’s pelt that had been packed away and hidden for safekeeping after she’d passed away. Although Kailani wouldn’t be able to produce a human body, or even bones, she could produce a pelt and that was exactly what the hunters were after, wasn’t it?

It had been years since Kailani had laid eyes upon her grandmother’s pelt but she didn't have time to admire it - she placed it on the floor of the living room, where it was most likely to be found by someone rummaging through the home, then set the second part of her plan into motion. Maybe she could make the hunters believe that in her final moments she’d been spiteful enough to surrender her pelt to fire in order to damage the treasure they were after right before she ran off elsewhere and succumbed to her injuries without her healing capabilities, so she grabbed the portable fuel tank from the garage, liberally poured the liquid everywhere she could in her haste, then set her childhood home and all of its memories aflame. She didn’t wait to confirm that the hunters had followed her from the beach, nor could she bring herself to watch as the house burned, so she jumped into the family’s van with her actual pelt and the few belongings she’d had the time to retrieve and left in a hurry knowing that her staged death was far from foolproof, but all she needed was a head start.

Not long after the attack on her family Kailani began going by Drew Marley and spent most of the next two years in her seal form until she felt it was time to find a place on land to call home. She happened to stumble upon Wicked’s Rest by accident - her only mission had been to get as far away from California as she possibly could and something about the small town’s strangeness caught her attention, especially since it wouldn’t be hard to fit in in a place where the next person was just a little more weird than the last, although it wasn’t until she’d gotten settled in that she realized how many other supernatural beings had also flocked there. Drew is now spending her time focusing on her work as a marine conservationist and keeping an eye on anyone in town who shows a little too much interest in her. Because she knows that it’s not likely that her ploy managed to totally convince the hunters that she’d suffered the same fate as the rest of her family, she’s spent the past few years getting herself into tip top shape and mentally preparing for another ambush which has consequently made her quite paranoid and unfriendly - this has also carried over into her seal form, making her ten times more territorial than she ever was before and more likely to be a danger to anyone unfortunate enough to find themselves in her stretch of ocean.

PERSONALITY:

Adventurous · Passionate · Self-Sufficient · Confrontational · Impulsive · Vengeful

OTHER INFO:

While it may seem random there’s a reason behind her new name: Drew was her father’s middle name and Bob Marley was her mother’s favorite musician.

While in human form Drew's teeth remain rather sharp. It’s an insecurity of hers and partially explains why it’s so damn hard to get a smile out of her.

While using her pelt she takes on the appearance of a leopard seal.

When not in seal form she disguises her pelt as a normal article of clothing, typically a collared button down shirt that’s easy to throw over any outfit.

Because of her love of the ocean Drew's parents made the decision to give her her pelt at the age of six instead of on her thirteenth birthday as was traditional for the family.

If your shiny valuables come up missing after an interaction with Drew, don’t blame her, you should have known not to go around showing them off. She can't help it!

Drew still has a strong love for surfing and it’s not uncommon for her to hit the road in her van in search of prime surf spots whenever she needs to get away for a little while.

[monochromatictoad]

I know I've already kinda gone into details on Anomaly, and I've been working on Eternity's page, but I think I should do a general outline of my universe. Mind you, this is subject to change as I see fit, and it's still a work in progress. I'm using the Greek Gods Generations for names on some of these categories, for now. Names may have alternatives that are regular names, as such to keep the facility's research secretive.

Entities are phenomena studied by a facility, whose name is typically expunged from files as to protect their research, civilians, and the entities themselves.

They are separated into several categories:

Environmental: this is a phenomena that, as its name implies, is environmental. There are currently Three (3) of these phenomena known to exist, and all of them contain a Titan within them. They also contain physical and mental hazards, with one in particular being certain death if entered.

Skeleton Garden

"Paradise" Islands

Forgotten Waters

Primordial: They are typically massive in comparison to the other categories, and exist as a single entity. As their names imply, these entities are very old and many of them have existed since our solar system first started, often referred to as Ancients as well. There are currently Four (4) entities within this category. Listed will be the names written out on the first recorded encounters/modern titles/names given by the facility.

Statued Maiden / Porcelain Mother / Mother Tilly or Tilly

Cold Woman / Snow Queen / Maria

Locust / Bug Cleric / Gene

Fog Body / Smoke and Ash / Hendricks

Titans: These are individuals who alter the environment around them to hide better. Very little is known about them, as they are shier than their Primordial parentage, and do not appreciate being studied. Although they are easier to contain, as they never leave their environments. There are only three (3) known, and each of them live within an Environmental Entity.

Villroch

Memory

Bessy

Olympian: This category of Entities are the most common and plentiful. Most of these Entities are capable of reproduction, and exist in the world as wildlife would. These are the most well known and capable of being contained or at least avoided by civilians. There are Sub-Olympians, however only one has been recorded and documented as such, while there are several still awaiting classification. Six (6) main Olympians have been Documented, One (1) Sub-Olympian.

Anomaly

Mannequin

Apex

Obelisk

Stalker

Eternity

Blank

Unknown: Entities that are still awaiting classification or proof of existence. The list is only available for researchers and anyone over level 5 clearance. Photos, recordings, and samples make up the majority of this category. As such, only a few have place holder names. Theorized Sub-Olympians will have a * by their name.

Man-Made: Entities that were created with the assistance of humanity. Stalker, a Sub-Olympian, is theorized to also fall into this group, as it requires cameras being made for it to exist. However, it is not considered as such, since humanity had a passive influence with its creation. This category is for humanity to have direct influence and assistance in the creation of said Entity. These have proven to have been some of the most difficult to track down and maintain containment. There are currently Four (4) of these within containment.

Quail

Apple Blossom

The Hive

Shadow People

White Rabbit*

Leonard

Feign*