#and the way malcolm looks at him and a smile is slowly forming on his face too omg i love them

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

[slasher-dasher]

Hey Aster 😊

I love the way you write about the slashers 🤌🏻 My favourite one is the RZ! Micheal Myers ones 💓

Can I please request a Brahms heelshire SFW and NSFW shot? If possible ♥️

I really love that wall man 😫

I ALSO REALLY LOVE THAT WALL MAN!!! He and rz!Myers have a chokehold on my mind rn

Brahms Heelshire Oneshots

︶꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

(gn!reader for both, NSFW w/tags below the line :> )

Priorities (SFW)

Brahms’ chest rose and fell with each gentle breath, small snores slipping out as he slept. His curled-up form covering only a tiny portion of the queen-sized bed, one that he hadn’t slept in in years. It was nice. It was warm. It was… comfortable. He missed this bed, this room. All those years merely being a witness to the room that he once grew up in, and he was finally able to enjoy the space again. An arm shifting around him caught his attention, a soft smile forming over his lips at the sleeping figure on the other side of the bed. His most recent nanny lay in the space, one arm lazily thrown across his waist while their face was buried in the pillow. This one hadn’t thought taking care of the doll was a joke at first, much like all the others did. No, they cared for him as if they were made to, and in a way, they were. Brahms traced his fingers over the curves of their face, being careful not to wake the sleeping form. The way a soft blush bloomed across the cheeks almost instantly always made him giggle, and he loved the curve of the jaw and how it contrasted so beautifully with the neck. An alarm went off in a spare bedroom, startling him so much that he jumped, pulling back as if he had done something wrong. It was 7 am. The eyes of the figure next to him slowly fluttered open, hand moving from his waist to bury itself in his hair, fingers toying with the curls and nails scratching at his scalp.

“You ready to get up love?”��

“Can we stay here a bit longer?” His voice was pleading, almost sure you would say yes without him having to do much. Brahms rested his arm over your waist, letting his hand trace shapes into the small of your back.

“No Brahms, we have to follow the rules, remember? This’ll mess up your sleep schedule if we don’t get up sweetheart. And I have to turn off that alarm,” even though the voice was light, it still carried a sense of authority.

“Pleeeeeeeeease?” He pouted behind his mask, eyes shining brightly like a kid on Christmas day. He knows you can’t say no to him when he looks at you with those eyes.

“Hmm, maybe just once-” You had barely finished speaking before he buried his porcelain face into your chest, a happy hum spilling out of Brahms’s throat as he got comfortable in your arms again. The cold material made you gasp for a moment, but you couldn’t help but chuckle. Your bodies curled around each other, heavy sheets protecting you from the ever-present chill in the Heelshire mansion.

“I love you~” A kiss was pressed to your neck, gentle as the porcelain lips it came from before Brahms closed his eyes again, body relaxing in your hold while he cuddled closer to you, if such a thing were possible.

“I love you too~” The alarm would go off by itself in a few minutes. You have something more important to take care of right now.

Keep Quiet (NSFW)

(tags: dom!reader, bratty Brahms, sub!Brahms, praise, oral (reader receiving), slight ownership if you squint)

You had almost gotten through the day before Brahms had started to act up. Though, it wasn’t as if you could fully blame him this time. Malcolm had been late delivering the groceries, which meant that dinner was pushed back until he was able to get what you (well… Brahms) had asked for this week. You had tried offering him snacks, sweets, sandwiches, just anything that would hold him over until you could manage to make dinner. He refused everything, shoving it away from him like it was poisoned, arms crossed with a loud huff as he turned his head away from you. You sighed, leaving the room for a brief moment to collect yourself, but it was long enough for Brahms to wonder if you were going to come back. He knew you would. You always do… right?

“Are you going to sit here and pout all day now? You were being so good earlier,” your voice made him jump, unaware that you had walked through the other door of the dining room. For as long as he had lived in this house, he still hadn’t gotten used to the layout from outside the walls. Just as he was going to speak, the sound of the doorbell echoed down the long halls of the estate. You sighed in relief, going to retrieve the groceries with Brahms right on your heels before setting everything up in the kitchen. The smell of spices and the sound of meat sizzling along with a boiling pot of noodles quickly filled the space, while Brahms took his usual place on the counter. He was a great taste tester, and you thought the second you started cooking he would slip right back into his role. How wrong you were. Right now he was still in “brat mode” as you liked to call it, refusing to even look at you unless he wanted to get under your skin. If ignored, he would complain louder. If acknowledged, he would fuss. A few harsh glances in his direction would keep him quiet for a short while, but once he was done squirming he would start up again.

“How much longeeeer,” he whined, voice breaking from the high-pitched one from earlier into his more natural, no, more needy voice. Suddenly, you had an idea. It would keep him busy, and give you time to cook without being interrupted. You snapped your fingers, watching his eyes lock onto them for direction. Good. He was still obedient like this. You motion toward the tile in front of you, silently instructing him to take his place there. Brahms hesitated for a moment, but slipped off of the counter with a grace someone like him shouldn’t have. He took his place on his knees in front of you, hands resting on your thighs and eyes locked on you, barely wet with tears that threatened to spill behind his mask. Poor boy thought he was in trouble, and in a way, he was. You voice was smooth as you spoke, fingers curling around the edge of the porcelain mask, lifting it off of his face and onto the now empty counter. He whimpered, lip pushed out in a pout until your hand found its way into his curls.

“Keep your mouth busy while I cook, hm? Think you can do that pretty boy?” You toyed with his hair, making his breath hitch as he hummed and nodded, hands quickly working to get your pants off. This was the Brahms you knew, the one looking up at you with hazy eyes as he took you into his mouth, not wasting a second to send waves of pleasure through your body as he pressed his tongue to you. Your hips kept his head flush against the oven door, his hands gripping your thighs so tight you’re sure they’d be bruised. This would be a test for both of you. On his end, how long he could resist before begging you to abandon the food on the stove. To just grip his hair and use his mouth until you were satisfied. He would let you, of course. He was yours, after all. On your end, how long you could pretend he wasn’t there. Pretend that all of his desperate mewls weren’t distracting you from your task or the way his lips curled around you like you were carved from the same body. Ultimately, you knew you would relent first. Taking care of Brahms was always your first priority, so with a swift click of the burner turning off, you let yourself melt into him. He shifted under you, hips grinding against your shoe, desperate for any kind of release. Soon, you both reached your breaking point, his moans sending shocks through your body as you twitched into his mouth, and your grip on his hair sending his eyes rolling into the back of his head. When you finally let go, dropping to your knees to join him in the mess you had both made, pressing your foreheads together as your breaths mixed in the small space you had created.

“Was I good?” His voice was broken from use, eyes glazed over from the pleasure of serving you, arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders now as he steadied himself.

“Of course you were~” You pressed gentle kisses onto his face, tracing his jaw with your lips and his waist with your fingers while you both came down from your highs. Dinner would be saved for tomorrow. Or, at least until you both could stand.

[justabooknerdposts]

hey, could you make one of estelle finding out that percy and annabeth are demigods? thank u so much i love your works <3

*Okay, I kind of struggled with this one because I don’t feel like they’d hide it from her.  I feel like it would be one of those things she’s always known.  So, after a lot of thinking, I finally came up with this.  Hope you enjoy!* Also, reminder, still closed to prompts, just catching up on a few old ones I hadn't gotten to yet.*

Demigods

It happened during spring break of his freshman year of college.  Percy had come home to New York, catching a ride with Hazel on Arion, since she was visiting Camp Half-Blood as part of the two camps’ exchange program.  Hazel was going to be spending a week at the Greek camp and Malcolm Pace was going to be at Camp Jupiter for a week.  Annabeth had stayed in New Rome to work on a project for one of her architecture classes and to hang out with her demigod brother, who she hadn’t seen in a while.  Percy had to admit he could understand the appeal, since the main reason he’d wanted to go to New York for a week was to hang out with Estelle.

His one-year-old sister was thrilled to see him.  She squealed, patted his face, grabbed his nose, tugged on his ears and hair, and slobbered all over his cheeks and chin in an attempt to give him kisses.  Basically, it was an awesome greeting.

The next day, he volunteered to take Estelle to a nearby park, to give his mom and Paul a break.  The first part was fun.  He pushed Estelle on the swing, grinning back at her when she gave him a drooly, three-toothed smile, her chubby legs kicking excitedly.  Then he sat her on his lap to go down the slide.  Estelle squealed so loudly that at first he was afraid she was scared, but then he realized she was laughing. 

So they went down the slide about seven more times.

Everything was going well.  Percy was having a great day with his baby sister.  Even the weather was cooperating; it was a sunny, warm, early spring day, the trees just starting to be touched by green.

And then, as they turned the corner a few blocks from their apartment, Percy pushing Estelle in her stroller, he froze.

Skulking in an alleyway, flexing their muscles, were two Laistrygonian ogres.  For one moment, Percy thought maybe he could slowly back away unseen.

And then their eyes fell on him.  One glared, one grinned, and both pushed away from the alley wall and started moving towards him.

Percy cursed in his head, even as he reached for Riptide and, in the same move, stepped in front of Estelle in her stroller.

“Hey, guys,” Percy said, trying to keep his voice casual even as he palmed Riptide, still in pen form.  “How’s it going?”

“Better now, Perseus Jackson,” one of the Laistrygonians rumbled.  “Babycakes and I have been hoping you would reappear.”

Percy cursed out loud this time as he realized it was one of the ogres who had attacked him years ago during gym class.  And, apparently, the monster’s girlfriend, who was still glaring at Percy.

“Do you know how annoying it was to have to wait for Joe Bob to reform?” Babycakes crossed her meaty arms, which were tattooed as thoroughly as her boyfriend’s.

“Probably really annoying,” Percy agreed.  “Sorry about that.  Anyway, great to see you all again, I’ll just be on my way—”

“I don’t think so, Perseus Jackson.”  Joe Bob grinned, showing his crooked, stained teeth.  “We were just trying to decide what to do for lunch.  And then here you are.”

“And you brought a baby,” Babycakes cooed.  “I love babies.”

Percy’s skin crawled.  His own voice came out like a growl.  “No one touches my sister.”

The Laistrygonians laughed and prepared to charge.  They never got the chance.  The moment they threatened Estelle, rage rose like a red hot wave in Percy’s chest.  With a metallic shink, Riptide appeared in his hands.  He leapt forward and, in two swift swipes, he dispatched the giants.  They barely had time to look surprised before bursting into piles of monster dust.

“Enjoy Tartarus,” Percy muttered.  It wasn’t something he’d normally say, after having been there himself, but he didn’t have any sympathy for monsters that threatened his sister.

Behind him, Estelle gurgled.  Percy turned to look at her, Riptide still in his hands.  Estelle was smiling and drooling as she chewed on her hand.  When she saw him looking at her, she squealed happily and held out her arms.  Percy scanned the street, but when he didn’t see any additional threats, he capped his sword, slipped the pen back in his pocket, and reached down to unbuckle Estelle from her stroller.  His hands were shaking when he picked her up.  She didn’t seem to notice.  Instead, she babbled and patted his face.  Percy managed a smile.  “Come on, Estelle.  Let’s get home before we run into any other problems.”

His mom and Paul were still out when Percy and Estelle got home.  His little sister started to whine as soon as they got in the door, so after Percy had shut, and locked, it, he bounced her on his hip, which she usually liked.  But Estelle wasn’t having it right now.  So Percy changed his hold until he was cradling her against his shoulder.  Estelle nuzzled her face against his shoulder and one small hand gripped his shirt as she continued to whine.  Percy patted her back, then, cuddling her against his chest, headed to the kitchen to make her a bottle.

After she fell asleep while drinking her bottle, Percy stayed on the couch, just holding her for a while.  Even though he’d dispatched the monsters easily enough, the fact remained that, just for a minute, his baby sister, his fully mortal baby sister, had been in danger.  Because of him.  And that wasn’t a good feeling.

Finally, Percy stood up, Estelle fast asleep in his arms, and carried her to her crib.  Giving her a featherlight kiss on the forehead, he laid her down and tucked her in.  Then he headed across the hall to the bathroom and closed the door.  Sitting on the edge of the tub, he turned on the shower and used his powers to arc the water, letting it catch the rays of late afternoon sunlight coming through the window, creating a rainbow.  Tossing in a drachma, he said, “Oh Iris, goddess of the rainbow, accept my offering.  Show me Annabeth Chase at New Rome University.” 

The rainbow shimmered.  A few moments later, Annabeth appeared.  Luckily, she was alone, sitting at her desk in her dorm room, absorbed in sketching.  The sunlight coming through the window made her blonde hair glow.  Percy watched her for a moment, already feeling a little better.  But finally, when she didn’t look up, he said, “Hey.”

Annabeth jumped.  When she saw him, though, an easy smile crossed her face.  “Hey, Seaweed Brain.”  The smile faded, though, as she studied his face.  “What’s wrong?”

“Had a little bit of a run-in with some Laistrygonians.”  He told Annabeth about what had happened, how he’d been on his way back from the park with Estelle, how the monsters had surprised him, how he’d dispatched them with no problem, but how he couldn’t get rid of the sick feeling in his stomach quite as easily.

“I just—” Percy ran a shaky hand over his face and through his hair, “I just can’t get past the fact that Estelle was in danger because she was with me.”

Annabeth tilted her head, as if thinking.  Her gray eyes were intense as she’d listened to his story, but now they softened as she said, “I have a slightly different take on it.  I’d say Estelle was never really in danger because she was with you.”

Percy shook his head.  “That sounds good, but it’s not true.  If they’d gotten the jump on me or something—”

“Percy.”  Annabeth’s voice was a little more stern.  She leaned forward on her desk, closer to the I-M.  “You once blew up a volcano.  Not to mention lots of plumbing over the years.  You don’t think you could blow up a New York City water main to wipe out some monsters if Estelle was in danger?”

Percy took a leaf out of her book and rolled his eyes.  “Well, yeah, probably, but that’s not—”

“That’s exactly the point, Seaweed Brain.”  Annabeth’s expression was earnest as she locked eyes with him.  “I’m not letting you beat yourself up about this one.  Could something potentially happen to Estelle that would be absolutely out of your control?  Yes, possibly.  But would you do literally everything in your power to keep her safe?  Absolutely.  And you have a lot of power to call on, Percy.  More than you even recognize sometimes.  Your little sister is as safe with you as she’s going to be with anybody.  Trust me.  I know you.”

Percy blinked hard and cleared his throat.  “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”  He managed a smile at his girlfriend.  “I believe you.”

“Good.”  Annabeth returned his smile.  “I am sorry that happened, though.  It sounds like a scary moment.”

“It did scare me,” Percy admitted, running his hand through his hair again.  He exhaled.  “Just more to lose, you know?”

“I know.”  Annabeth raised her hand, just barely touching the Iris-message, so that it looked like her fingers were melting into the rainbow.  Percy raised his hand to hers and it almost seemed like their palms were touching, even three thousand miles apart.

Naturally, Estelle chose that moment to start fussing from her crib across the hall. 

“Uh-oh,” Percy said.  “That might be my cue.”

“Give her a kiss for me.  I love you.”  Annabeth blew him a kiss.  “Enjoy your visit, babe.  It’s going to be okay.”

“Thanks, Wise Girl.  Love you, too.”

Percy did feel better, even as he swiped through the I-M and Annabeth’s image faded.  He turned off the shower, then headed across the hall to Estelle’s room.  She was standing up in her crib, hair nap-mussed, whining around her pacifier.  But when she saw him, her entire tiny face lit up and her pacifier nearly fell out as she smiled.  Percy felt a pang in his chest, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. 

“Hey, Estelle,” he said as he crossed the room to scoop her up.  “Good nap?”

She burbled happily to him and Percy couldn’t help grinning.

He kissed one of her chubby cheeks.  “That one’s from Annabeth.”  Then he kissed the other.  “And that’s from me.  I love you, Estelle.  And I’m always going to protect you.  Don’t worry about that.”

His baby sister tugged on his ear and squealed.  Percy figured she got the message. 

“Let’s check out the kitchen,” he told her.  “I think there’s a jar of mashed carrots with your name on it.”

He kissed the top of her head as he carried her down the hall.  Annabeth was right, he couldn’t totally control every situation.  But he would always do everything in his power to keep his little sister safe.

[little-wicked10]

Let Me Make You Juno (Ian Malcolm Smut)

Summary: When Ian returns from Jurassic Park, he has a new perspective on some decisions he’s been contemplating. Like the need to lock down the love of his life. (Inspired by Sabrina Carpenter’s song Juno)

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY!!! Breeding kink, Ian being the silver tongued devil he is😏, cursing

Notes: Yes, I’m aware that the movie Juno came out several years after the original Jurassic Park BUT this is inspired by a song that was inspired by a movie (most likely I’m just assuming).

//

She was there the moment the helicopter touched down.

She was there as they gurnied him into the hospital to be treated.

She was there to take care of him every step of the way.

From his Costa Rican hospital bed, Ian would watch her sleeping form slumped in a chair in the corner. He observed her as he was lost in his thoughts. Almost dying had a way of making you reassess your life and decisions you’ve been dancing around. Like the one sitting in a velvet box back at his apartment.

Ian bought the ring before he’d made up his mind. There was a lot he was considering before asking her to marry him. He often joked he was always on the look out for the “future ex-Mrs. Malcolm”, but he was hesitant to add her to that list. She had changed his life. She had encouraged him to start carving out more time for his children, albeit a slow process since he had to become civil with their mothers. No one had pushed him to better himself quite like her.

Staring death in the face with all its sharp and bloody teeth was when he made his decision. Ian prayed (for the first time in who knows how long) he’d make it off that island so he could finally ask her that all important question. She WAS the future and last Mrs. Malcolm. No matter what, he’d be with her until his heart stopped beating.

//

“What?”

Ian smiled at her shocked expression, “Will you marry me, my wonderful and beautiful goddess?”

Her eyes stared at the ring in the box he held out to her. The diamond shined in the candlelight of their romantic dinner. “You’re…are you serious?” her heartbeat a million miles a minute.

“Of course I am, my darling. You’ve changed my life in such an…exponential way. You’ve made me uh…a better man, a better father to not just my current kids but for our future kids,” Ian pulled the ring from the box and held it between his fingers, “So…what do ya say?”

“You want…with me? Yes, Ian! Yes!” happy tears fogged her eyes as she grasped his face between her hands and kissed him.

Ian almost dropped the ring as he wrapped his arms around her, her tears wetting his cheeks. The restaurant goers that had been watching erupted in joyous clapping. She pulled away from their kiss and held out her left hand. Ian gently took her hand in his, carefully slipping the ring onto her finger. Their joy was infectious. He knew in his heart this was meant to be, he’d made the right decision.

//

Light flooded their apartment as the door swung open. Ian’s large hands held her close to his body tightly, clutching her silk dress and walking her backwards. Her fingers were woven into his curls as their tongues fought with one another. A swift kick shut the apartment door before he released her body to shrug off his leather jacket. Gently clutching her wrists, he pulled them from his hair as he delicately pushed the thin straps of her dress off her shoulders. Her hands worked on unbuttoning his already halfway unbuttoned black shirt.

The silk pooled at her feet as it finally cascaded down her body leaving her in her panties and heels. Ian was in awe of her, a lustful look in his eyes as he threw off his shirt to swagger towards his prey. The moonlight shining in from the windows made her look ethereal.

“You are a goddess,” his eyes slowly took her in, “And I must…no, need to worship at your alter.”

“Ian,” she whispered, her face flushed.

The man stopped before her and fell to his knees, large hands running up her legs as he kissed the top of her panty line. Her body shivered as his lips ran across the sensitive skin. Her fingers threaded into his hair once more as he squeezed her thighs, dark eyes staring up into hers.

“I want your touch for life, darling. Love you right until you bless me even more with something beautiful. I want to put my child right…here,” he kissed her stomach gently.

Ian’s eyes watched her breasts heave as she began to pant, “I’m so fucking horny, Ian.”

“I know,” dexterous fingers wrapped around her waist band, pulling her panties down her legs.

He aided her in stepping out of the garment before he stood up, picking her up and wrapping her legs around his waist. They smashed their lips together as he carried her to the bedroom in long strides. He moaned into her mouth as she ran her nails across his shoulder blades. They fell on to the bed, Ian being careful not to land on her too hard. An animalistic groan vibrated in his chest as he felt her hips roll against his.

Her needy whimper made him feral. His lips trailed down to her jaw line and neck, exploring her body with the drag of his lips and scrape of his teeth. He sucked on the swell of each of her breasts before running his tongue down her stomach. Ian could only imagine what she’d look like once their child grew inside her. Growling at the thought of her round belly and swollen breasts made his stomach twist in anticipation to make her his in every way possible. Ian suddenly sat up to gently remove her heels.

“I adore you, Mrs. Malcolm,” he kissed her left calf before reaching down to strum his thumb over her clit, “I adore every part of you…, Mrs. Malcolm.”

The way the title rolled off his tongue and his fingers slipped inside to begin massaging her sweet spot caused her to arch her back. When she reached out to him with a desperate whine, Ian leaned over her to look deep into her eyes. His hand moved faster when she reached up and bit his lip, eliciting a growl from deep within his chest. Her body writhed desperately, toes curling as she felt electricity began to burn from the bottoms of her feet to behind her eyes. “Please, Ian!” the way she begged may have been pathetic, but she didn’t care, “I want you inside me! Put a baby in me!”

Ian’s chuckle was dark, “I will, darling, but uh…you have to cum first.”

The fire in her belly burned even hotter when she heard his words. He had such a way of speaking, it flowed from his lips like honey and heightened the pleasure. The hot coil snapped and she came on his frantically moving hand. Ian showered the side of her face and neck with loving kisses as he helped her ride out her orgasm. Her arms lazily wrapped around his neck to press their lips together in a sloppy kiss. Removing his fingers, Ian pulled away from the kiss to suck his fingers, “Mm. Your taste is divine. I could explore you all night.”

“That won’t make a baby, my love” she smirked as he began to pull at his belt.

He chuckled and stuttered over his words at how quick she with his belt and pants, “You…uh…Darling, you’re…uh, uh…insatiable.”

“You bring it out in me, Dr. Malcolm,” small hands pushed down his slacks.

The curly haired man stood up off the bed and chucked off his slacks and boxers. Crawling on to the bed, he watched with predatory eyes as she moved up to lay at the head of the bed. They wrapped up into each other’s arms and legs. His large hands roamed her body as he thrust his hips against hers, teasing them both. A hand slipped behind her onto her lower back. He made her arch her back and angle her hips up. There was no warning when he slipped his long dick inside her. Her moans were music to his ears as she dug her nails into his back. “Oh my god,” Ian groaned as he picked up his pace, “Fuck this feels so right!”

Up until that point, they had always used condoms. The feeling of him being inside of her with no barrier, just raw, brought out something feral in her. There’s no way she could go back to rubbers after this. Her legs tightly wrapped around his waist, urging him to keep going with her heels against his ass. His arm wrapped around her hips helped him continuously spear her over and over again, free hand gripping the sheets next to her head. He suddenly switched their position, pulling out to flip her onto her stomach with her hips angled up.

Ian was back inside her once again as he pressed his chest to her back; his hands traveling up her sides before one tangled into her hair and the other slipped under her hips to her clit. His thrusts were deep and deliberate. Holding her head back enough for him to leave open mouth kisses along the side of her face and neck, whispering in her ear. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she desperately tried to move her hips to meet his thrusts.

“I feel you clenching around me, my love. I can hardly pull out. Not that I’m going to,” his smirk was pressed to her ear.

A desperate sound slipped from her throat as she felt pleasure building from the bottoms of her feet to behind her eyes.

“One of you is cute…it’s wonderful, infact, but two?” Ian growled and thrust roughly and bit her earlobe.

“Fuck, baby! Mark your territory!” she pushed her hips toward him more, if it was possible.

His fingers circling her clit and his animalistic pounding was enough for the coil to snap. She screamed as she clenched down on his thrusting cock and came. Her orgasm washed over her like a brutal wave and only lasted longer as her fiancé continued to fuck her into their mattress. Just as the high from her first orgasm subsided another quickly built and crashed over her. Ian admired the way her body writhed underneath him, unable to decide if she wanted more or less of his ministrations.

“D-don’t stop! Don’t stop! Cum inside me, baby!” she begged in her delirious state.

Ian’s brow creased in concentration and he bit down on his lip as his hips began to falter. The most wonderful cry left her lips as he thrust himself as deep as he could inside her to spill his seed. The feeling of him filling her to the brim would be burned into her body’s memory forever. A hand reached behind her and tangled into his hair, whimpering as she felt him rutting his hips into hers until he was fully spent. The only thing heard in the room was their ragged breaths.

He kissed along the side of her face and neck down to her shoulders, all the while whispering to her how good and beautiful she is. She whimpered as he slowly pulled out, feeling both their orgasms leak out of her. Ian laid on his side beside her before pulling her towards him. She gently turned over to face him and snuggled into his embrace. “You ok?” he asked, kissing the top of her head.

“I’m perfect,” she lovingly kissed his neck, “Planning a wedding and a baby? You’re truly a chaos magnet, Dr. Malcolm.”

“Chaos is unpredictable, my love. It might take one, two, or multiple tries to get you pregnant. Either way, I’m-uh more than happy to keep trying,” he smirked down at her.

Her felt her stomach jump in anticipation, and she gave a playful nip to his jaw line, “Then I guess we have a lot of work to do.”

[promptthebear]

I hope I'm not too late, we are on different timezones so it is kind of hard to tell haha, but I was wondering if I could please request a Brahms Heelshire drabble with number 16. No pressure if I am to late! So excited to see what you are writing for these!

Hello Anon! No worries, you made it in time! Congratulations on being my first Brahms request, hopefully this is what you were looking for and you enjoy reading it!

Easter Askbox Event- Brahms Heelshire x Reader

Prompt: You and me. Movie night.

CW: Fem!Reader, 2nd person, reader is referred to as "you." Reader and Brahms have an established relationship. Some non sexual nudity.

Brahms had a cold, which meant the world was ending.

You’d tried to help him at first, when all he had was a runny nose and some sniffles. Unsurprisingly, Brahms had doubled down and disappeared into the walls, where he spent the better part of two weeks sulking. By the time he’d been sensible enough to come out, the damp and cold had already done their work.

You now had a feverish, coughing, grumpy Brahms confined to his bed and as much as you loved him, he was slowly driving you insane.

“Baby, PLEASE. It’ll make you feel better.” You smiled while you said this, but your jaw was grit so tight it hurt. A spoon of inky looking cough syrup was held in your hand. You were sitting on the end of Brahms bed, trying to get him to take his medicine for what felt like the hundredth time in a row.

“No.” Brahms had forgone the mask after he’d sneezed into it one too many times, which meant his sullen expression was on full display “It tastes awful”

“I know it does, sweetheart” you had a headache forming just behind your eyes and it was making it difficult to sound cheerful “But you want to get well again, don’t you?”

The look in Brahms eyes said yes, he did. You knew he hated being cooped up as much as you hated keeping him there. At the same time, his mouth remained resolutely closed. You were going to have to offer up something good to get him to cooperate. The promise of playtime and the attention he felt entitled to wasn’t enough for him to tolerate any discomfort, no matter how brief.

“Okay” you exhaled forcefully, trying to muster your remaining patience “If you take your medicine now, like a good boy, I’ll call Malcolm up later and get him to rent a DVD for us from the library. You and me, movie night. Does that sound fair?”

Brahms cocked his head to the side and you could tell he was weighing his options. As much as he despised Malcolm, the idea of snuggling up in front of your laptop with a bowl of popcorn was too good to pass up. You’d introduced Brahms to that particular snack a few months ago and since then, he couldn’t seem to get enough of the stuff. Even if he was in a deep sulk, he’d always appear as soon as he heard the microwave turn on.

“Okay.”

It was only one word and two syllables, but to you it was as rich and inspiring as the hallelujah chorus. You smiled at Brahms again, a real one this time that reached all the way to your eyes. He didn’t smile back, he’d spent too long in the mask to bother with expressions most of the time, but you could tell he was pleased. The stiffness had left his shoulders and his hands no longer clenched the blankets in fistfuls.

“That’s my sweet boy. It’s just the one spoonful today, I know you can do it.”

Brahms opened his mouth, looking up at you and reminding you of a baby bird waiting to be fed. You slipped the spoon over his lips, and tipped the handle upwards so its contents emptied out completely. Getting Brahms to take a second dose was going to take a lot of negotiating, which meant you weren’t about to waste a drop.

You expected some dramatics to follow, gagging, crocodile tears and lots of whining about how awful it was. Instead, Brahms surprised you. Aside from closing his eyes and some hard swallows, there was no other external reaction. He even opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue to shown you he’d taken all of it.

“Brahmsy, I’m so proud of you! That was so good, well done!”

You set aside the spoon and medicine bottle on the night table, feeling Brahms’ eyes tracking your every movement. It was hard to predict what he was going to ask for next, even with the mask off you couldn’t always read his expression. However, when he caught the sleeve of your shirt in his grasp and tugged you closer, you knew you wouldn’t be sleeping alone tonight.

“Stay with me?” his voice was a little hoarse still, but sounded better than it had in days.

“Of course," you replied, smiling down at him "Scootch over and let me in.”

He did as you asked, lifting the covers and moving over to the far side of the bed so you could climb in next to him. It was a tight squeeze, your bed was queen sized and had much more room, but being sick had made Brahms even more sensitive than usual and he craved the comfort of his childhood bedroom.

Within seconds, he had wrapped his arms and legs around you, snuggling in under your armpit and placing his head on your chest. You let out a small laugh, and leaned down to place a kiss on his forehead. He still felt hot, but he wasn’t sweating like he’d been a few days ago. Odds are when you took his temperature later, you’d find that his fever was close to breaking if not broken already.

“Are you tired, darling?”

Brahms nodded, his eyes half lidded with contentment. The sound of your heartbeat and warmth of your body had already begun to soothe him into drowsiness.

“Try to get some sleep, then. I’ll be right here.”

The faint patter of rain on the windows and the dim, golden glow of the beside lamp soon lulled you into a near doze. Taking care of Brahms was a full time job, and given how things had been going lately, you were exhausted. More often than not, Brahms had woken you up in the middle of the night, complaining of a sore throat or from nightmares caused by the fever. As much as you loved him, you loved having a full night’s sleep more.

You had almost completely nodded off when you felt something tugging on your shirt. Glancing down, you saw Brahms fingers poking at the buttons down the front, like he was trying to undo them.

“Brahaammmms-” your voice came out in almost a near groan “Do we have to do this tonight?”

“Please? I’ll be good.”

You let out a sigh, knowing this was probably going to be the only way either of you were going to get any rest.

“Alright, alright. But behave yourself, or I’m going back to my own room.”

Brahms nodded, and leaned back slightly to give you more space to move. You sat up, making quick work of the buttons and lying back down on the pillows with your shirt spread open. Almost immediately, Brahms had snuggled close to you again, gently nuzzling at the tops of your breasts as he did so.

You gave him a moment to get comfortable, relishing the soft sounds of contentment he made. You’d discovered this particular trick a few months after Brahms had revealed himself to you and your relationship turned romantic. At first, you’d assumed he was just being grabby as per usual, until you realized the skin to skin contact helped him sleep. Sometimes, it was the only thing that helped when he was worked up or restless.

“You ready?”

He nodded again, the movement causing his beard to tickle against your skin. You leaned down, and placed a kiss on the crown of his head before twining your fingers in his hair. Brahms let out a deep sigh, before his eyes fluttered shut. He always looked the most beautiful to you when he was falling asleep, the peaceful expression taking years off his face.

“G’night Brahmsy, I love you”

He muttered something, already so sleepy you could hardly make it out, but you swore for a second it sounded like “love you too.”

[heroofshield]

Whumcember Day 22 Alt 2- Ice (Dragon Age 2, Fenhawke)

@whumpcember

"C'mon it'll be fun." Hawke smiled as she took Fenris's hand and gave it a tug. "Besides, you've never really gone ice skating. And since it's currently winter...no time like the present."

Fenris frowned but let Hawke drag him to the door and outside. He wouldn't admit that all he wanted to do was stay in front of the fire and drink. "Not when she's so excited to show me what 'ice skating' is. This is the first smile I've seen since Carver left." he thought as they made their way through the market and towards the main gates.

As they made their way through the snow, Hawke chattered on about how she used to ice skate with Carver and Bethany back in Lothering, how they would have to wait until Malcolm tested the ice to make sure it was thick enough to support their weight. "-and there was always someone who ended up skating too late in the season and went through the ice." Marian paused, realizing what she was saying. "But you don't have to worry about that, we're well into the season and it's been really cold."

"Are you sure?" Fenris said as they made their way to the pond that Hawke had pointed out when they'd gotten in view. He paused, raising an eyebrow at the ice where the water used to be. "It doesn't look that safe to me."

"It's fine. I went out last week and nothing happened." Hawke said, pausing for a moment before letting go of Fenris's hand and marched towards the bank. Not pausing, she moved away from the bank and onto the ice itself.

Fenris's heart leapt into his throat as he heard a crack...but nothing happened. Relaxing slightly he started to follow Hawke, getting onto the edge of the ice.

"See? It's like I-" Hawke started to say, smiling when suddenly there were several sharp cracks and she fell through the ice with a shout.

"Hawke!" Fenris called out, feeling his heart leap into his throat as she disappeared. Frantically he tried to recall what she'd said in the past if someone was to fall through the ice.

Moving quickly, he lay down on the ice- spreading his body weight so he didn't fall through either. Making his way towards the hole, he risked peeking over the broken ice to see if she was there. But only water greeted him and he swallowed thickly before taking a breath and plunging his hand into the water.

The cold instantly shocked him, shooting through his system almost instantly and it took all of his willpower to keep his hand in-moving about to hopefully brush into Hawke's.

The seconds seemed to become an eternity until something bumped against his hand. Resisting the urge to withdraw it, he stopped moving and felt fingers try to grasp his. Not hesitating, he moved his arm further in and was able to take her hand. Pulling with all his strength, Fenris saw Hawke appear and gasp for air. Still focused on getting her out of the water, he grabbed with his other arm and slowly but surely dragged her onto the ice.

Realizing that they weren't out of danger just yet, Fenris somehow managed to get them both off of the ice and onto the ground. It was all a blur, all he could think about was getting Hawke to safety.

Hawke's entire body was shivering and dripping wet. In the back of her mind she knew that she needed to get warm, but the overwhelming chattering of her teeth made it hard to form a coherent thought. Vision blurring, she was dimly aware of Fenris's body pressed against hers and him saying something about getting back to Kirkwall.

--

Anders stoked the fire in Hawke's room while saying, "I hope you won't go onto anymore ice after this. You were half-frozen by the time Fenris carried you back here. You were lucky yet again."

Hawke let out a sneeze and ignored the comment, choosing the burrow herself under the layer of blankets as much as she could. It had been a few day since she'd gone through the ice and still couldn't stop shivering. Peeking over the covers and she saw that her mabari was spread out in front of the fire. "At least one of us is enjoying the warmth."

Anders let a half-smile appear and leaned the poker against the brick, brushing the soot from his hands. "I'll be back tonight to see how you are and Varric'll be by later this afternoon."

"Thanks." Hawke watched as Anders slipped out of the room and closed her eyes, suddenly feeling tired. It felt like she'd closed them for a minute, but when she opened them next, Fenris was asleep in the chair next to the fire.

Slightly smiling, she was glad that he'd been with her that day and hoped the mild attraction they felt between each other could grow as time went on.

[noforkingclue]

By Any Means Chapter 15 (Malcolm Bright x reader)

Prodigal Son tag list: @queenoffandom08, @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

You groaned and rubbed your neck as you sat up, blanket pooling around your waist. You blinked as Malcolm sat down on the arm rest and handed you a mug of coffee. You took it gratefully and sat up taking a sip.

“Good night?” he asked

“As much as I can sleeping on a sofa.”

“You should’ve taken the bed,” he said looking away, his cheeks slightly pink, “I did offer.”

“I’m not going to kick you out of your own bed,” you said, “Besides, I doubt I’ll be here for very long.”

You pointedly avoided the look Malcolm gave you and you knew that part of you didn’t believe it. He did have a point, get rid of the artist and get rid of the problem. Maybe you could persuade him to buy another bed or at least a sofa bed.

“-fast?”

“Huh?”

“What do you want for breakfast?” Malcolm asked with a slight smile, “Don’t have much but I’m sure I can find something. Or we could go out?”

“Letting me stay over and offering to buy me breakfast. You really are a gentleman Malcolm Bright.”

Malcolm’s expression softened at the use of his surname. He took a sip of his own drink as he walked towards his kitchen. It was strange seeing him like this, so casual and at ease. You swung your legs off the sofa and draped the blanket over your shoulders. You slowly made your way over to the kitchen and leant against the counter. You watched Malcom move about as something coiled inside of you and you realised how much you missed this.

Before Joseph died it was always you, him and Richard. You remember research nights in the library, meals out as well as less… legal things. You thought that you were close and now you were discovering a life that you never knew Joseph had. Of course you respected that everyone had a private life and you weren’t expecting Joseph to share everything with you. It still hurt that he did.

Now, you realised what you had been missing. You never knew how lonely you had been until now. Yeah, you still saw Richard but your relationship had changed. There was an underlying tension between you and you knew that it wasn’t going to be repaired anytime soon, if ever. You longed for the days that you had taken for granted and now knew that you would never get back. It felt strange being around people for so long. It felt even stranger being around people that you liked and you think (and hoped) liked you back.

Malcolm looked as his phone started ringing, his hands full. He nodded towards the phone and said,

“Probably Gil. Do you mind?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, a plan forming about how you could embarrass Malcolm, and grabbed the phone. You didn’t bother looking at the caller ID as you answered it, put it on speaker, and said,

“Hurry up Malc. You promised me breakfast. You can’t spend all day in bed!”

“Malcolm, my boy, you should’ve let me know you had company!”

Oh no.

[casspurrjoybell-22]

Master - Chapter 48 - Part 3

*Warning Adult Content*

- Kalem -

"It should be a quick, boring affair," Master comments as if seeing the way my smile dipped.

"Lots of negotiations." I nod quickly, my smile perking back up quickly. 

"We're only dressed up like this because Wequie insisted," Master adds when he catches me eyeing his suit again.

"Looking the part, helps gets you the role," he sing-songs from behind Master who rolls his eyes secretly.

As my naughty part nudges my book, I take the silent reminder of why I was here and hold my books up with excitement that threatened to pop out of me.

I beam...

"I have news."

"News?" Master asks as he tilts his head a little.

"Uh huh," I answer grinning.

"Top-secret kind of news."

"What kind of top-secret news?" Malcolm asks as he presses himself closer to Arias who was quietly fixing gemmed pins into Malcolm's hair. 

"The type of top-secret news that will make Wenquie call me sexy brains," I answer which gets excited little noises from everyone but Lincoln. 

"Oh," Wenquie's eyes glow as he claps his hands with excitement.

"Now I'm really intrigued."

Looking back to Master with a giggle, I sway a little in my place when I find him smiling lovingly at me but then his smile wavers a little.

"I would love to hear what your news is," he starts.

"But do you think it can wait until after we conclude negotiations, love?"

My smile slips a little.

"They'll be here any moment and I don't want to cut your important news short," Master explains quickly but even though he sounded pained, my heart was hurting on the inside.

"But this is important," I whisper quietly as I slowly lower my books.

"I can be fast."

I didn't want to rush through my important news but I would if I had to and I'd wait so long to share it that I just wanted to get it out.

But when I looked at Master's face, I noticed how tired he looked.

Tired and stressed too, like he was worried about the meeting coming up.

I didn't want to add to his stress but maybe coming here like this was only going to make it worse for him.

My happiness from a few seconds ago starts falling away quickly.

"Lincoln," Arias' Malcolm says before Master can speak again.

"I'm sure we can stall for as long as need be, if they arrive while Kalem is sharing his news."

I smile at Malcolm with a grateful smile that only grows when he winks at me. 

"You can stay if you want, this is news for all of us."

"Yes," Mr. Wen cheers happily as he circles his way around Master to give him one last look over.

"I am a genius, you're welcome."

Master rolls his eyes while Wenquie plops himself down on a free chair.

When Lincoln's eyes meet mine again, he still looked a little unsure but after a moment he nods his head and gestures for me to come closer. 

It took everything inside of me not to jump in Master's lap for cuddles and hugs and special kisses too but I knew that if I did, I probably wouldn't stop and that wouldn't be good with our friends close.

Plus, I wanted to give my plan like how everyone else did so they could see how hard I worked on this. 

So I stay on my feet when I reach the side of Lincoln's table, close enough to feel his strong comforting presence to keep me steady.

I set my books down, opening them on their right pages to make sure everything was perfect before I look back up.

I find everyone smiling at me, waiting patiently, for me to take the lead and share my news.

They were all paying attention to me, which made not screaming become so so hard when I felt this happy inside.

"Okay," I say as I pick up my notebook and glance at my notes about Magical Kalem.

"I am a Nyphilim," I start and everyone's smiles grow as they nod.

"I have an angel side and a demon side but I haven't been able to unlock my true form yet."

"You will," Arias says encouragingly.

"You just have to be patient with yourself."

"I know but I've been trying to be patient with myself for a long time and it's not working. So I started thinking, what if I can't do it because I only know one side of myself," I say with open palms just like how Arias' Malcolm did when he was teaching people.

"What if I have to use my demon side and my angel side to be the Nyphilim I really am."

Arias doesn't say anything to that but with the way his eyes narrowed, I knew he was curious and listening.

"That may be possible," Master replies with a little nod.

"Are you saying you want to access more of your demon side?"

"Yes," I say quickly.

"I can teach you a few tricks, flower boy," Mr. Wen says as he licks his lips.

"Bring it all out of you."

I giggle while Master scowls at Wenquie who just sticks his tongue out playfully.

I grin from ear to ear at my special name.

Wenquie started calling me flower boy after my birthday and it was the best name in the whole world because it made me feel so pretty and special, just like a flower.

"You will be bringing nothing out of him," Lincoln scolds quickly.

"His magic isn't like yours."

Mr. Wen pouts but he doesn't say anything as he twirls his finger around his tail.

"I know Arias said that it has to do with my sad or angry emotions but I've been that plenty times and I don't feel any more demon. The only time I felt different was when Arias and I fought and he told me what I was."

Lincoln frowns at that, he was still angry that Arias had fought me while he was gone but Master also didn't like anything Arias did so I couldn't try to make him forget that.

"You're not doing that again if that's what you mean," Master says firmly and I shake my head.

"I don't want to, I just..."

I glance down at my notes.

Right. Magical Kalem, Arias wrong.

I wasn't angry when that happened or sad, just confused and a little scared but I still reached that part of me.

So I thought, what if Arias was wrong about how my emotions affected my magic?

"I know it sounds super crazy, but what if he is?"

I make a brain exploding motion with my hands.

"It wouldn't be the craziest idea in the world," Master mumbles which gets him a golden glare from Arias. 

"I haven't been wrong about your idiocy once, trout," he snaps back which makes Master's anger flare.

"Kalem has the floor," Malcolm says loudly before they can argue.

"Let's all pay attention and give him the respect he deserves."

"Thank you, Arias' Malcolm," I say kindly but for some reason, it makes Malcolm frown and Wenquie snicker.

"What?"

"Nothing," Arias replies smiling.

"Continue along the line of me being wrong."

I was worried that Arias might be hurt that I thought he was wrong about something but Arias was smiling and he still seemed interested so I knew it was okay. 

"So I started to wonder, if Arias is wrong, then who would teach me how to unlock that side of myself, so I can be a proper Nyphilim?"

I drop my notebook and quickly pick up my map with the yellow circle to show to them

"The other Nyphilim."

Everything goes quiet.

The playful smiles all drop, the interested eyes turn to something else as everyone's bodies stiffen a little in their places. 

It was like the happiness was sucked out of the room, leaving nothing but a tension behind that made it hard to keep my smile up. 

Slowly, very slowly, Master straightens in his chair before he raises his narrowed black eyes from the circled spot to me. 

"The other Nyphilim," he repeats into the quiet room.

I nod a little before I glance at Arias and his Malcolm who looked just as serious now, even Wenquie wasn't smiling like normal which made me feel worried.

Frowning, I curl my fingers around the edges of the map so that I had something to hold onto.

I didn't get why everything had changed but maybe it was because I mentioned the other Nyphilim and they were worried about me or maybe they were just shocked.

I was super shocked too when I found the Nyphilim so it made sense.

Master turns to Arias with fire in his eyes.

"I thought you said there was no other Nyphilim."

"There isn't," Arias bites back but his eyes were focused on the circled paper and they weren't moving.

"I scoured this entire planet and realm ten times over, there is no other Nyphilim but Kalem."

Maybe Arias didn't like being wrong after all.

"Um," I say carefully, I didn't want to make him more upset but I wanted to make sure they all understood.

"There is another nyphilim and they're here on Earth. They're in Thailand," I say tapping the circle with a little smile.

That name just got prettier and prettier.

"I thought that maybe they were hiding them self like they hid me and maybe you couldn't find them because you aren't a Nyphilim," I explain as I put my map down and glance at my notes.

"So I tried finding them myself and when I popped and sent my magic out, I felt this super cold rush all over me and now I know where they are. They're right there in Thailand." 

My smile is full of the pride Master promised I'd feel for myself when I worked hard and he was right. 

I was so so proud of myself and now Master would see how strong I was and how hard I was working by myself and he'd be proud of me too.

At least, that's what I thought.

But when I look at Lincoln, I don't find his kind eyes or his proud smile, I just find wide ones and a look in his eyes that I'd never seen before.

"What do you mean you sent your magic out?" he asks tightly, with a tone I quickly realised I didn't like very much because it sounded like I did something bad.

"How did you send your magic out?" Arias adds sharply, his curious look was nowhere to be found now, he looked just like he did that night when he told me I was a Nyphilim.

"I have not taught you how to do that." I falter a little, feeling uncomfortable with everyone's serious eyes on me.

"Flower," Mr Wen says sweetly as he slides to his feet and comes closer.

"It's okay, just tell us what you did."

[make-me-imagine]

Locked In

13 Days of Halloween: Day 7

Plot: When you and Malcolm agree to help Jessica prepare for her Halloween party, the two of you end up getting locked in the creepy attic together.

Pairing: Malcolm Bright x Gn!reader

Warnings: None~ (except for a somewhat heated kiss towards the end)

Words: 2.5k

A/N: I saw the prompt 'Person A and Person B get locked in a creepy attic together on Halloween.' on a list by @olicitytropes and it inspired this; hope you don't mind me using it~

-

You looked around the large familiar house, noting the change in curtains and flowers to match the holiday, and Jessica's upcoming Halloween fundraiser party.

"Y/n, Malcolm! I'm glad you could make it!" Jessica said cheerfully as she met you and Malcolm in the foyer.

"I didn't think I had a choice." Malcolm said with light sarcasm.

"You didn't dear. But Y/n did." She said with a big smile as she looped her arm through yours "Which makes them my favorite, because they chose to come anyway."

You smiled at Malcolm over your shoulder and stuck your tongue out at him, as you walked further into the house. Malcolm shook his head in amusement as he followed.

"Ainsley is already here, which means she gets to come with me to the store. You two are on attic duty."

"Attic duty?" Malcolm asked, a change in his tone obvious.

"Yes, that's where the boxes of Halloween decorations are."

You looked up "I guess it makes since this place has an attic, I just never thought about it." You said softly before looking over at Malcolm.

"I never go in there, it's creepy." He said motioning is hands.

"Well you have no choice now." Ainsley said as she walked into the room. She met your eyes "Though I do feel bad for you having to go up there."

"Attics don't bother me as much as basements" You commented casually.

"Good! Don't worry, the attic isn't that creepy, Malcolm just doesn't like it because he got locked in there once when he was a kid. Tried to blame it on a ghost."

You looked over at Malcolm who nodded "The door closed by itself. And I was left in there for seven hours."

"Seven hours?" You asked with widened eyes.

He walked up to you, lowering his voice "No one can hear you scream up there."

Jessica smacked him on the arm before she looked over at you "It's fine, just make sure you keep the door propped open!"

"Right. Just keep the door propped open."

"Exactly!"

You looked over at Malcolm who just smiled and shook his head softly. Not long later, the two of you made your way upstairs as Jessica and Ainsley left the house.

"Do I even want to know how many boxes we're gonna have to drag all the way down here?"

"Probably not." He replied as you stopped beneath the attic stairwell.

Looking up the small darkened staircase at the red door, you hummed. "Never mind, that is very creepy."

Slowly making your way into the attic, you let out a small breath of relief as you looked around the fairly clean room. There was only one small, tinted window that let in very little light, leaving most of the room in darkness.

Malcolm pushed a small doorstop underneath the door before he turned to look into the attic. "Smaller than I remember."

"Most things are after you grow up." You commented softly as you flipped the light switch on.

The old light-bulb buzzed on, and sent a yellow-orange glow throughout the room.

Walking over to some boxes that had 'HALLOWEEN' written on it, you patted them.

"At least we don't have to search for them."

Malcolm walked over to the other side of the attic, and tapped some more "There are at least twenty in here"

"Its a big house."

"And she insists every room must have some form of decoration for her parties."

Picking up a mildly heavy box you turned towards Malcolm "I better get an invite if I have to do all this."

He smirked "You want to attend a Halloween party with a bunch of rich lawyers, accountants and white-collar criminals?"

You paused for a moment "Will there be food?"

He chuckled "Yeah, a lot."

You hummed as you left the attic "Might be worth it then."

-----

Letting out a sigh as you stomped back up the stairs into the attic for the fifth time, you looked at the dozen boxes still left.

"Never mind, invite or not, this is not worth it."

Malcolm stopped beside you as he nodded his head and let out a breath. Making your way back towards the boxes, you stopped as you heard a scratching sound. Looking at each other, you heard a loud creaking, you both recognized to be the sound of a door.

Your eyes widened in sync as you both spun around, to see the attic door quickly sliding closed.

You and Malcolm both rushed as fast as you could to catch it. But it slammed closed, just before you reached it. From the other side, you heard the doorstop bounce down the steps.

Malcolm grabbed the door handle, twisting and turning the knob as he pushed and pulled. As the door refused the budge, he looked back at you and shook his head.

You let out a sigh "Your mom and Ainsely wont be gone long right?"

"They went shopping. They could be gone for days." He said with a deafeated tone.

"Well, I know something you probably didn't have when you got locked in here the first time." He rose his brow as you reached into your pocket. "A phone."

Malcolm nodded his head in realization as he also took his out. You frowned as you read 'no signal'. Trying to use your data, but failing, you looked over a Malcolm. Meeting your gaze he shook his head.

"What is the attic made out of, layers of steal? Even my data isn't working."

Malcolm sighed as he walked over to the widow, trying to open it, before attempting to use his phone again. "Nothing. There must be something up here interfering with it."

"Great...so what do we do now?"

"We could talk about the fact that the door should not have closed, and that this is the second time that has happened!"

"I thought you didn't believe in ghosts?"

He lifted his arms up in defeat "Well I might now."

You let out a chuckle as you sat down on an old chair. "Or it's an old, heavy door Malcolm."

Malcolm shrugged his head as he walked over and sat down in the chair beside you. "Old door or ghosts, we're stuck."

You sighed and nodded your head. "Yup."

As an hour turned into two, and longer, you rifled through another box of decorations out of boredom, you pulled out a large fake spider. Turning it over, you saw a switch. Getting an idea, you glanced over at Malcolm, who was staring down at his phone, and set the spider on the ground. Silently, you switched it on, and watched as the large spider ran towards Malcolm.

Hearing the noise, Malcolm glanced over, letting out a yelp of surprise as he almost fell out of his chair.

As you began to laugh, Malcolm let out a deep breath and shook his head as he attempted to repress his own smile. "Very funny."

"Thank you, thank you." You said with a soft chuckle and fake bow.

Malcolm picked up the spider and turned it off, shaking his head. "I'm pretty sure this is the same thing Ainsley used to put in my bed to scare me."

You grinned at this as you began looking through the box some more.

Suddenly hearing a loud bang on the opposite wall, you flinched, as your head snapped towards the sound. Glancing at Malcolm, who looked alarmed as well, turned to meet your gaze.

"Rat?" You asked.

He shrugged his head "Maybe."

Hearing a scraping sound, following by a thud, the two of you stared at the part of the attic engulfed in darkness.

Slowly, Malcolm made his way over, shining his phone into the darkness. You watched in anticipation as he reached behind a box before lifting up an old photo frame.

"Yeah, that's not creepy at all."

Setting it back down he began walking over to you, but stopped when the attic light flickered off.

There was an almost deafening silence for a moment before you stood up. Turning on his phone again, Malcolm walked to the light switch, flicking it up and down, but the light stayed out.

"That's just a creepy coincidence right?"

Walking back over to you, you could just see Malcolm's expression as he nodded "Yeah. Just a creepy coincidence."

As he stopped in front of you, a loud clattered bang came from the dark side of the attic again, as a box toppled over. Gasping as you gripped onto Malcolm's arm, you turned towards the noise.

Malcolm, quickly turning on his phones flashlight, shined the light at the box, and then around the attic.

"Okay. Maybe the attic is haunted." You said in a whisper.

"Told you." He whispered back.

Walking over to the box, you stayed latched onto his arm. Attempting to push the box with his foot, he shook his head "That's way to heavy for a rat to knock over."

You tugged on his arm "Let's go sit by the window where there's some light."

Malcolm glanced over at you, just now realizing how close you were. "Alright." He said softly as you made your way to the window.

You both sat down in your chairs, eyes darting around the attic, both of you expecting something else to happen.

"Talk." You mumbled.

Malcolm looked over at you "What?"

"Talk, so I don't freak out."

"Oh. Okay, uhm....the first year I was allowed to pick my own costume, I wanted to dress as Seymour Krelborn."

You paused for a moment "The guy from Little Shop of Horrors?"

"Yeah. And I tried to convince my parents to dress Ainsley as Audrey II"

"Audrey....the giant plant monster?"

"Yeah.."

You let out a soft chuckle "Did they?"

He nodded and smiled "My mom refused at first, but I finally got my way."

You smiled at him and shook your head as you peered around the attic, still weary. Malcolm continued to watch you.

The two of you were seated next to each other, knee's touching. You were no longer holding onto him out of fear, but your hands were close. He was tempted to take yours in his.

As a car horn sounded outside on the street, you flinched lightly, barely enough to notice. But he did.

"How is such a bad-ass cop so afraid right now?" He asked with a hint of amusement.

You looked over at him "I don't do ghosts. Ghosts aren't tangible like people, I can't shoot them if they're trying to hurt me."

Malcolm chuckled "I'll protect you from the ghost."

You rolled your eye's lightly "Oh yeah, how would you do that?"

"Well. I believe that if ghosts are real, they only have power you give them through being afraid and wanting, or expecting them to show their presence."

"Sooo, you're saying, if I'm not afraid or don't think about them being real, they can't hurt me?"

"Right."

"Well. It was you who put the idea of ghosts in the attic in my head in the first place. So, really, this is your fault?"

Malcolm paused for a moment as a slow smile crossed his face "Yes, I suppose it is."

"Well then, the least you can do is distract me so I stop being afraid."

Your eyes were locked with his, as you smiled, he smiled in return, his eyes flicking down to your lips for a split second.

Hearing a loud thud, you let out a soft gasp. But before you could turn your head to investigate the sound of the noise, you felt Malcolm's hands grasp your face, before his lips pressed against yours.

The kiss seemed eager and rushed, before it became soft and gentle, and then it was over.

As Malcolm pulled away from you, you met his eyes. You were clearly still bewildered, as you muttered out.

"Why did you do that?"

"I was distracting you."

"From the ghosts?"

"Yes."

Malcolm's hands were still on your face as he spoke softly. He had a faint smile on his lips, and he couldn't seem to stop his eyes from flicking to your lips again.

"Sorry. I should have asked first." He said softly as he pulled his hands away.

Your heart was racing, and your ears were burning hot. You shook your head lightly.

"It's okay. It worked, you distracted me." You laughed lightly. "And besides, I- I would have said yes, if you'd asked." Your voice got a little quieter as you spoke, your ears burning.

Malcolm repressed a grin "You would have?"

You nodded and met his eyes "Yeah."

Leaning in a little closer, his eyes fell to your lips briefly. "Then, can I kiss you again?"

You smiled softly as you leaned in a bit as well "Yeah."

Meeting in a soft kiss, Malcolm's hand cupped your face again as you brought your own hand up to his face as well.

Suddenly, hearing a rough bang, as the attic door shook violently, you and Malcolm pulled away from each other with alarmed gasps.

Another bang against the door was followed by the door swinging opening with a loud creaking groan.

Seeing Gil stumble into the room, having forced the door open with his shoulder, you and Malcolm stared at him in confusion.

"Gil?" Malcolm asked with breathy bewilderment.

He nodded at the two of you as he looked around the attic "Hey."

"Hi." You and Malcolm said in unison, as Jessica came into the attic as well.

"Oh thank God, are you two alright? Why didn't you answer any of my messages or calls."

You and Malcolm lifted your phones up a the same time as he spoke "No signal up here."

"Oh. Well, what happened to keeping the door propped open?"

"I'm guessing they tried." Ainsley's voice cold be heard as she appeared a moment later behind Jessica, doorstop in hand.

"Heavy door." You said, glancing at Malcolm briefly.

"Well, I'm glad you two are okay. Once we got back, I saw the boxes down stairs, I thought you two must have finished and gone somewhere, then I couldn't get a hold of you."

"So you called Gil."

"Yes." They said in unison.

"Well, now that that's all over-" Jessica turned and patted Gil's shoulder "You can finish helping with the boxes."

"Wait, what? I'm on duty Jessica, I'm not here-" His voice was perplexed as he began to follow her and Ainsley out, their voices fading as they left.

As the door began to close, you and Malcolm both rushed forward, grabbing it before you got locked in again. Your eyes locked as you smiled in amusement.

After closing the attic door lightly, you left together, heading down the stairs. Halfway down, Malcolm slipped his hand into yours, looking over at him, you shared knowing looks and smiles.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, you both stopped dead in your tracks as you heard three loud knocks on the attic door. Your eyes locked before you turned and looked back up the stairs at the closed door.

Malcolm squeezed your hand lightly before you both raced away as fast as you could, knowing neither of you were going back in that room.

xx End xx

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @onuen, @rexit-mo, @imaginesfire, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

Prodigal Son/Malcolm Taglists: @spuffyfan394, @locke-writes, @malindacath, @cosplayingwitch, @starship-argo

Requested Taglist: @le-green-lion

[deepspacedukat]

Of course, nonny! Gotta love the protective armory officer! Pretty boy…I went for a slightly softer mix of soft and protective with this one, so I hope you like it! (Also somehow tumblr deleted this the first time around, so here we go. Second time’s the charm! Cross-posted to AO3 here.

If anyone wants to be added to my taglist or wants to submit a fic request, my ask box is always open! If you want to know whether I write for a certain character, have a look here. If the character you want isn’t on the list, I probably just forgot to add them, so please feel free to ask.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Safe And Sound

Malcolm Reed (ST:ENT) x Reader

[A/N: Mal is precious and I wanna cuddle him so…yeah, this was a totally necessary author note lol.]

Warnings: Slightly dangerous situation, but everything works out.

~*~

As the guard locked the door to our cell, I hoped the Enterprise was aware that something was wrong. Myself, Commander Tucker, and T’Pol had been on an away mission that was supposedly going to be peaceful. The leader of the district had granted us permission to visit the surface, but had apparently revoked it just as we were descending. The only warning we received was when we were almost shot out of the sky by the local aircraft.

We’d put up a bit of a fight before the guards managed to drag us to the cell we were currently locked inside, so all three of us were sporting minor injuries of some sort. Trip had a nasty looking cut across his cheek, T’Pol had a bruise forming on her jaw, and I had a busted lip. All three of us were awaiting some sort of ominous sounding interrogation.

“Everybody okay?” Trip asked, and we both answered in the affirmative. “The Cap’n should be lookin’ for us soon. We were supposed to check in with Enterprise as soon as we reached the base and we never did. I betcha Malcolm is settin’ up an away team right now.”

With a small nod, I took a seat like T’Pol had and started thinking of potential ways out. Barely an hour and a half had passed when we started hearing chaos out in the corridor. Weapons fire echoed all around the small space, and the three of us stood at the ready in case we needed to fight. There was a small window in the cell door about six inches across, and a familiar face popped up behind it.

“There you are,” a very British accent blurted before the door was shot open. Malcolm ushered us out the door and we hurried after him to the awaiting shuttlepod. “Get us out of here, Travis!”

The pod lifted off and I allowed a small sigh of relief to escape my lips. A warm hand landed gently on my shoulder, making me turn my head to see Malcolm looking at me with concern.

“Ensign, are you alright?” He asked quietly, and I gave him a small smile.

“Nothing a shower and a visit to sickbay won’t fix,” I said as reassuringly as I could manage, but his brow was still furrowed as his eyes swept slowly over my lips. “I’m fine, Mal. I’ll live.”

“As soon as we dock, I’m taking you directly to sickbay,” he said, but I shook my head.

“You’ll be needed on the bridge. I can get there myself,” I said placing my hand over his. He started to argue but a signal came through the comm system.

“Archer to Shuttlepod One. Lieutenant Reed, as soon as the pod docks we need you up on the bridge. Doesn’t look like these guys are giving up our officers without a fight.”

Malcolm sighed but responded with his usual “Yes, Captain.” That didn’t stop him from giving my hand a little squeeze as we entered the docking bay.

--

After Enterprise had managed to escape, I found myself in sickbay with Doctor Phlox looking me over one last time.

“Alright, Ensign, that seems to be everything I can do for you at the present. If there are any more injuries you discover or if you need anything for the last of the bruising, come see me again,” Phlox said with a little smile just as the door slid open. Malcolm saw me and rushed over, catching my hand with his.

“I’m so sorry, I should have been here from the start. Is she alright, Doctor?” Malcolm sounded like a worried mother hen. I’d never known him to be this anxious before.

“As I was just saying to the Ensign, her injuries were all superficial. I’ve patched her up the best I can, but there shouldn’t be any lasting damage. She doesn’t have a concussion, either, so I’m more than happy to release her if she’s ready to return to her quarters,” Phlox said looking at him curiously. “There’s no need for concern, Lieutenant. She’s perfectly alright.”

Malcolm looked a little sheepish, but he didn’t let go of my hand.

“Allow me to escort you there. Making sure you get there safely is the least I could do.” Malcolm sounded almost guilty. Did he think he was at fault for me getting hurt? Before I could protest that he didn’t need to go to all that trouble, he’d put his arm around my waist and led me into the hall.

“Mal? What are you doing?” I asked curiously.

“Taking you back to your quarters-”

“Yes, but why? I’m alright. You don’t need to waste your time with me,” I said coaxing him to a stop when we reached the door to my quarters. He turned to face me with a faint blush on his cheeks.

“I wasn’t able to protect you on the planet or on the way to see Phlox. I...I suppose I wanted to make sure I did one thing right today,” he said quietly, and I felt my heart give a tug at the expression on his face. I reached out and cupped his cheeks gently.

“Malcolm Reed, you listen to me. You haven’t done anything wrong. You saved all three of us today. We’d still be there if you hadn’t come for us. You got us safely back to Enterprise, then defended the ship. You saved all of us,” I said looking into his eyes. Malcolm placed his hands softly over my own and he gave me a look I’d only seen on hopeful puppies. Of all the times I’d wanted to kiss him, the urge had never been stronger than it was now.

So for once I didn’t fight it. I leaned in slowly to give him a chance to pull away.

But he didn’t. My lips met his in the gentlest kiss I could muster, and after a moment’s hesitation, Malcolm was responding eagerly. His hands dropped to my waist drawing me close as he melted slowly into me. He backed me into the door and kissed me for a moment longer before pulling back just far enough to kiss my forehead, cheeks, and nose. His forehead rested softly against mine as we shared a few shaky breaths.

“Those people...They claimed they’d killed the whole team before you even got out of the shuttlepod,” Mal’s voice was unsteady, and when I opened my eyes I saw a single tear rolling slowly down his cheek. “I thought I’d lost you. When Hoshi managed to isolate two human life signs as well as a Vulcan...I’d have moved Heaven and Earth to get you back. I know this isn’t professional, but over our time serving together, I’m afraid I’ve fallen in love with you, Ensign.”

“What a coincidence. Y’see...I’ve fallen in love with you too, Lieutenant Reed,” I murmured as a smile stretched across my lips. “Mal? If...If you wouldn’t be uncomfortable with it, would you consider...staying with me tonight?”

“It would be my privilege to protect you so intimately,” he murmured as his lips met mine once more.

[writingtoforgetreality]

I Remember (Malcolm Bright x Reader)

Request: uM hi saw ur request post while i was scrolling through malcolm bright x reader tag lol so may i request an x reader w malcolm where reader's gil's niece or smth so she and mal know each other before he joined the team- and one day where mal was being a dumbass and reader was told to drive mal home and when she was securing his restraints he jokingly asked her to sing to him aNd she did sing and fell asleep on the bed by opposite mal aND he got a good amount of sleep like no night terrors and next day he accidentally slipped that reader ''slept'' w him and gils just like excuse me wtf?? Djkdkdlsjsjs idk i got this idea when i was staring at the ceiling at 4 am instead of doing my essays that were due in the morningxD sorry its p long. Thanks and have a good day/night (by @iwillboilyourteeth), [Prodigal Son-Masterlist]

Summary: Malcolm got hurt again. What a surprise. And, as always, you were right there to take care of him. Tonight, though, things took a turn. For the better or for the worse? Only the future would tell.

Words: 2,142

Warnings: language, love me some sarcasm, fluff, so much fluff, I love writing for Prodigal Son (keep the requests coming)

Song used: “I Remember” by Jason Manns

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

You were sitting in your apartment when your phone started ringing loudly, interrupting your movie marathon. Sighing exaggeratedly, you checked who decided to annoy you at this time. It was not too late but you liked your alone time a lot. Gil. Oh no. That could never be good.

“Uncle Gil. I hope whatever you’re about to tell me is more important than Harry Potter.” pausing the movie you were currently watching, you did not even give him enough time to greet you. A loud sigh could be heard over the phone. One, that made you laugh.

“(Y/N).” his voice was stern & you knew better than to mess with him. Yet, you could not help yourself.

“Yeah, that’s me. You called me, after all.” joking to ease the tension, your giggling was cut short by his next words.

“Malcolm is a dumbass.”

“What a revelation.”

“He’s hurt.” Gil stated. Throwing your head back in frustration, you knew he only called you if he knew it was not too bad. But bad enough to need your help. “I need you to come get him.” it was not even a question, more like an order. Immediately, you grabbed the stuff you needed & headed out of your apartment towards your car.

“Can I yell at him for being reckless?” opening the door, you got inside but before you started the engine, you waited for the call to end. Could not risk getting youself hurt. Malcolm was the stupid one, not you.

“I already did that but I’m sure he’ll appreciate to hear it again.”

“Good.”

“Drive safe.” Gil noted.

“See you in ten.” & with that you drove to the precinct where he would most likely wait for you.

Growing up, you spent a lot of time at Gil’s. Malcolm was there almost always, so you got to meet each other pretty early on. Deep down, you cared for him. More than you should care for a friend. And because of him being a profiler, you were sure he picked up on that as well. Malcolm was just nice enough to not comment on it. Besides, he would tell you that he was too broken anyway. The thing was that it never scared you away. It did the exact opposite, actually. It only made you want him more.

Did you ignore almost every speed limit? Possibly. Your knuckles were white because you had gripped the steering wheel so tightly. One of these days, you would kill Malcolm. He kept getting himself hurt & you were tired of being the one to drive him home afterwards. Of course, you knew Gil only called you because Malcolm trusted you enough but that did not change the fact that you were exhausted.

“What happened?” approaching Gil, your eyes looked around for a sign of Malcolm. “And where the hell is he?”

“Bathroom.” his finger pointed over. “He didn’t call backup & thought dealing with it alone would turn out fine.” Gil was, you could tell, almost as tired as you. Not only of Malcolm acting recklessly but also because of a long day at work.

“What a surprise.” your sarcasm got the best of you. But it helped you coping with your feelings sometimes. “Uncle Gil?” his head snapped up when you said his name.

“Yes?”

“Go home & get some sleep. I got it from here, promise.” your sweet smile was convincing enough & with a nod, he turned around & walked away.

“(Y/N)?” Malcolm noticed you when he walked out of the bathroom. His face was covered in bruised & by the way he was limping, you were sure that his entire body had to be sore. “Where’s Gil?”

“I sent him home.” shrugging as if it were nothing, you gave Malcolm a look. He knew what it meant but apparently, he wanted to play dumb.

“What?” his head tilted slightly & if it were not for his damn puppy eyes & for the fact that he was hurt, you would be the cause of his bruises. Not quite literally but still. Rolling your eyes at him, you crossed your arms over your chest.

“You’re stupid, I hope you know that.”

“I do, but we caught the killer, so it was worth it.” he casually stated.

“Is it really worth risking your life, Mal?” shaking your head shortly, you were not in the mood to discuss this any further. A simple gesture of your hand was enough to show him that you wanted to get going. “Come on, I’m gonna bring you home.”

“You’re mad.” Malcolm noted when the both of you walked outside back to your car. Sighing loudly, you stopped for a brief moment.

“Yes. I’m mad because I can’t even count how many times we’ve been in this exact situation anymore. And it sucks. Because every single time Gil calls me, I think he’ll tell me that you didn’t make it out like you always do.” Malcolm’s eyes widened when you explained how you were feeling. Your body brushing past his made him turn around & follow you without another word. It was silent between you two until you arrived inside Malcolm’s apartment.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” he spoke up, his voice much softer now. When you saw him struggling to pull off his coat, you walked over to him to help him out.

“You don’t owe me an apology, Mal.” your back faced him when you went to put his jacket away.

“I do. You always take care of me when shit like that happens. And I wanted you to know that I don’t take that for granted. If I were you, I would’ve stopped caring a long time ago.”

“You know as much as I do that this won’t ever happen.” & it was true. Malcolm could mess up over & over again. Could get himself hurt & all that. But you would always be here to catch him, no matter what.

“I don’t deserve you.” his eyes bore into yours & by the look he gave you, you knew he was not talking about you taking care of him when he was hurt. He was referring to you as a person. Basically, he wanted to make you understand that he was not worthy of your love. Which was bullshit to you.

“You deserve so much & it hurts that you don’t see it.” the conversation dropped for the time being. Navigating your way through his apartment, you looked for something he could wear to bed. Soon enough, you found something suitable & when you walked back into the room ,you found Malcolm already sitting on his bed, head hanging low. He stopped you when he noticed your hands grabbing the shirt he was wearing. Sending him a confused look, your eyebrows raised in question.

“I think I can handle it from here on.” taking the clothes from you, he went to strip himself out of his workwear. Surprisingly, he could not move his body enough to achieve anything.

“Yeah, I can see that. Come on, don’t act like that, Malcolm.” it was not the first time you had helped him undressing. As mentioned earlier, the two of you had been in this situation too many times to count.

It did not take long & he was wearing comfortable clothes. After asking if he needed anything else, you went straight to his restraints & helped strapping him in. It amazed Malcolm how you were not weirded out by the fact that he had to be held down in order to have at least a few hours of sleep.

“(Y/N)?” his voice was barely above a whisper but your humming let him know that you heard him. “Can you sing something for me?” it was meant to be a joke, he simply wanted to ease the tension between you guys. Thinking about it for a second, you came to the conclusion that it would not hurt to do that. Maybe it would help him fall asleep? Malcolm eyes widened when you actually started singing quietly. It was soothing & he closed his eyes to focus solely on your voice.

Hey you, when I saw you walk in there

And I couldn’t help but stare

At the way you move your hands

‘Cause it’s the little things you do that drive me crazy

And now, let’s forget about the crowd

And just concentrate on us

So that you can know what I want you to know

 I remember how it started

You had everything I wanted

I was helpless to resist

But I didn’t want to

 Only if you would hold me tight

As we talked all through the night

About those things you won’t tell no one else

I know that we’ve got long ways to go

But I want you to know

That I’ll be there till the end, so don’t you worry

 I remember how it started

You had everything I wanted

I was helpless to resist

But I didn’t want to

‘Cause I fell in love with you-ou-ou

 After you finished, Malcolm still had his eyes closed, he just laid there for a while, recalling the words of the song. He knew what you were trying to tell him but if he had to be honest, he was scared. If the two of you were to try something, he thought you would leave him the moment you realized his demons were too much for someone to handle. Malcolm did not hear you leave his apartment, neither did he feel a movement. Opening his eyes slowly, he found you sound asleep right next to him. Your peaceful form made him smile brightly. Contemplating if he should wake you up, he decided against it in the end. Deep down, he knew you would not judge him he if he had a night terror next to you. And if he were honest, having you with him made him incredibly calm. That night, he fell asleep almost immediately, without any nightmares invading his dreams. The reason for it was you. Only you.

Malcolm woke up early the next morning. Work called. Okay, maybe Gild had told him to take a few days off but everyone who knew Malcolm, knew that he did not listen to such orders. Or any orders, in general. You were still asleep when he loosened his restraints. He left you a note behind before leaving his apartment for work.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay at home?” Gil questioned the second Malcolm entered the office where the rest of the team was already up & working.

“You did but I’m fine.” Gil rolled his eyes at his words. Usually, whenever Malcolm insisted on being fine, he was everything but. Examining his face closer, Gil was shocked to see him so…well rested?

“Wait. How much did you sleep last night? You look unusually awake.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s because I slept with (Y/N) last night.” Malcolm spoke casually & went to examine the pictures that were displayed on the table in the middle of the room. Gil’s eyebrows raised at that. Dani only sent him a weird look & JT almost choked on his coffee at Malcolm’s confession. There were some things he did not want to know & his love life was one of it.

“Excuse me, what now?” Gil was the first one to press the topic further. Everyone knew how protective he could get when it came to you, his niece. When Malcolm turned around, he found three pairs of eyes looking sternly at him. Wait, what did he say? Realization washed over his face & he only now noticed how wrong his words sounded without any given context.

“No, wait…That came out wrong.” closing his eyes briefly, he prepared an explanation for his confused co-workers. “(Y/N) drove me home yesterday & she helped me with my restraints & all. She fell asleep & I didn’t wanna wake her up.” Malcolm’s hands gestured wildly, not wanting to give them the wrong impression of last night’s events. JT pretended to understand what he explained even though he had no idea & frankly, he did not care too much. Malcolm had lost Dani’s interest a while ago, she continued working on the next case. Only Gil was left. He gave Malcolm a knowing look, went over to him & patted him on the shoulder.

“You better take care of her, Bright. Or you have to deal with me.” his threatening smile creeped Malcolm out but he knew Gil was only trying to keep you safe. Maybe you were the right one for him. Last night was proof enough. It was scary to take that next step but on the other hand, he wanted to take that risk. He wanted to give it a try. For the both of you.

Published (04/20/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @octopus5555 (thanks for your support <3)

[itgirlwife]

are you still there?

prompt: puck doesn't like talking on the phone, but malcolm calls them instead of texting. malcolm admits it's because he wants to hear puck's voice

pairing: malcolm / puck | honeymoon suite

words: 1002

notes: takes place early relationship, i like writing dialogue so i went overboard a lil

It's just a phone call—it won't kill me. It'll slaughter me. Malcolm means well, I know, but he's asking for a lot. The date was great, and the movie was great. It already called for minimal conversation but that didn't stop Malcolm. Being my Gemini self, I couldn’t keep my jokes to myself.  It filled the silence in-between Malcolm’s observations, followed by my nodding and ohs.

After dropping me back at my place, he kissed me like it was our last date. He wasn’t ready to leave me. I thought about how I’d eventually take my sweater off and his scent wouldn’t be there. How cold my hands would get without Malcolm holding them. I didn’t want him to leave either.

After a tight hug goodbye, Malcolm asked something of me.

“Call me before you go to bed.”

I nodded and waved goodbye, dreading his request.

I’d rather eat concrete than make a phone call.

I stalled once I entered the house. I did my nightly routine as slowly as I could. I skipped showering since I wanted to sleep in my sweater. Deciding to sleep in the sweater should’ve been the fire I needed to call him. I desired some closeness after Malcolm had left. It was him I wanted. Calling would make that easier to express. I don’t want him to think I don’t care about him. I do—a lot more than I’m willing to admit.

I’m sat in my bedroom looking at his contact info on my phone. His number hasn’t become muscle memory yet. I did add the emoji of the dancing guy next to his name. I thought it was too early in our relationship for a heart emoji, given all the things he does to my heart. Also, Malcolm wears suits and likes to boogie. It’s fitting.

My shaky thumb taps the phone icon. I can’t turn back now. 

Malcolm picks up on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey. It’s Puck.” He knows that, idiot.

He chuckles. “Hey. I was worried you wouldn’t call.”

I can’t blame him for thinking that. It bothered me that he did, though. “Why wouldn’t I call?”

“We only text.”

“Oh. Yeah. I don’t like talking on the phone a lot.” It came out sooner than I wanted it to.

“I don’t like it too much either, honestly…if it means anything, I just wanted to hear you talk.” 

It means a lot, more than he’ll ever know. I won’t tell him that, though.

“Aww,” I cooed cutely. “You’re corny.”

He laughs. I picture the lines that would form on his face. Around his eyes, the corner of his lips. All are very beautiful. I pull the sleeves of my sweater to cover part of my free hand. It’s not enough. He should be here.

“Well, one of us has to do it, right?” Malcolm says. “Be the romantic fool?”

I laugh a little too, but it could just be my nerves. “It can be the both of us. I’d be lying if I said my head isn’t over my feet right now.”

“Aww. You’re corny, Puck.”

“Shut up.” My face feels warmer than earlier. “I got it from you. That kiss must’ve knocked something into me.”

“Hey, you know what they say about true love’s kiss.”

“I’ll turn into an ogre?”

“No,” I can hear him smile through the phone. I would kill to see it, “but I can sing Holding Out for a Hero to you. All while being your Prince Charming.”

“You gotta play the piano too. We agreed on a concert, remember?” He told me about the lounge shows he’d do at the casino. He’s played piano since he was a boy. I begged for a private concert the moment he told me.

“You make the setlist. I’ll show up in my suit with my Steinway.”

“Really? That’s way too much power. I’ll do that right now. Let me grab a pen and paper. Stay on the phone.”

“You haven’t given me a reason to hang up.”

“I’m about to.”

I thought about some songs from memory but eventually turned to my Spotify for ideas. I scribbled some songs on a piece of paper, then shared it with Malcolm.

“Are you still there?” I ask.

“Mhm.”

“Well, you’re not saying anything.”

He sighs, “I don’t think I can make Cream by Wu-Tang Clan happen.”

“There’s a piano in it. I’ll rap it for you.”

“I feel like you’re setting me up here,” he clears his throat. “What were the other songs you picked?”

I go back to the paper on my bed. “The theme song from Peanuts…Megan’s Piano, which I can rap too. Also, it’s super easy to play. Then Eenie Meenie by Justin Bieber. No piano in that one, but I’m sure you’ll figure something out. For the encore, you’ll sing Holding Out for a Hero, but you’ll have to come down from the ceiling.”

“What?”

“You heard me. In the part where she sings “Where have all the good men gone,” you gotta come down from the ceiling. Then you get on the piano. Also, smoke machine. And lasers.”

“Sounds expensive. Who’s going to hang me from the ceiling?”

I shrug. “You don’t have a ceiling guy?”

“No, I don’t have a ceiling guy. God forbid, what if I fall?”

“Sue the ceiling guy. It’ll help pay back all the money from the smoke and laser machines. Then you can take me to Disneyland.”

“Disney? After all those hospital bills?” I can’t see it, but I know he’s running his fingers through his hair. “I guess. Anything for my girl.”

The world stops turning. “Your what?”

“My girl. You’re my girl.” He’s smiling on the other end. I can hear it. I turn to the alarm clock on the dresser. It’s almost 11. I’m not tired, but I need a reason to hang up so I can scream into my pillow. "My girl.” Malcolm’s girl. I could melt into a puddle. I could get used to that.

[eddieheart]

MAID

Fandom: Prodigal Son

Pairings: Malcolm Bright x oc

Words: 910

Description: Jessica hires a maid for Malcolm.

The apartment was dark Malcolm stood in his living room. A girl stood in front of him, her face was rotten and grey. She opened vile black mouth to let loose a hoard of maggots and worms crawling from her open lips.

There was a loud buzzing around him, bees started to escape the confines of her body, leaking trough every orifice. Her eyes rolled back into her head revealing the whites of her eye.

Her neck snapped and she turned to face Malcolm. A wispy voice entranced his frozen form.

"Why didn't you stop him. Why didn't you help me. You're just like him."

He jolted awake like a bolt of lightning had struck him. He took a deep breath through his nose, calming himself as much as possible. Malcolm sighed and began to undo his arm restraints.

He got out of bed and made his way to the kitchen like he did every morning. His pill bottles lined the counter neatly, he went to reach for the first one when he was interrupted.

"Malcolm my sweet boy. I have a surprise for you!" His mother said in a singsong voice as she entered his apartment.

As Malcolm turned around he cocked a brow in surprise. There was a petit looking woman standing behind his mother.

"Mother, you've brought company." She smiled brightly and put her hands on the girl's shoulders, pushing her forward.

"This is Avery she's your new maid."

"No offence to you Avery, but I don't need a maid, I keep a clean house." His mother burst into laughter.

"Go start in the bathroom Avery." She smiled as the woman walked away. He noticed a nervous tick as she passed him, scratching her ear lobe.

"She's a live in, I figured you needed the company. And before you start Malcolm this is not up for debate, she's already moved in. tootaloo my love."

He stood there awkwardly, mentally preparing himself for his new roommate.

——

He walked to the end of the hallway, down the winding staircase and into the basement. A muffled scream could be heard. His hand shook violently and he stumbled in.

The box sat dauntingly in front of him. It rattled and shook, letting out a flurry of echoing screams. He approached the box shaking in terror.

He opened the box only to find it empty, he sat back on his heels in confusion. A white hot blinding pain shot through his chest. He looked down, a scimitar pierced through his abdomen.

It was quickly ripped away he turned around falling onto his hands. He looked up and his attacker was gone. He was kicked to the ground his face hit the hard concrete floor.

His nose broke with a loud crunch. Crimson syrup ran down his face, pouring into his mouth. He jumped up and turned away, spinning in circles. Malcolm rushed out of the room he fell onto his hands and knees. He started to crawl his way up the staircase.

His breathing was erratic, his heart was racing. Malcolm's face was fear riddled, he let out a piercing scream.

——

Malcolm awoke as always, with a scream. His hands pulled viciously on his restraints, his teeth clenching down onto the thick plastic in his mouth.

His entire body seemed to lunge forward with a scream, before slowly falling back down again. He let out a breath of relief, he spit out his mouth guard and undid his leather cuffs. Malcolm looked up in confusion, a slight flash of fear ran through him.

There was a stranger at his breakfast table, he stood and walked over slowly. A look of recognition painted in features as he realized it was the maid his mother had hired.

Malcom gave a quick glance to the clock, it wasn't even sunrise yet. He walked closer.

"You're up early?" He said.

Her head picked up and whipped around to him. She looked startled and nervous, there was a cup in her hand and she swallowed whatever she was drinking.

"Yes, I'm sorry. Couldn't sleep. Sorry for breaking in, I'm above you and my kitchen doesn't work yet." She smiled nervously at the man.

"No worries, I hope I didn't wake you. I tend to startle those who see me sleep." He said suggestively. She shook her head in response.

"No, your mother mentioned you get nightmares. I myself am a chronic insomniac, a little screaming doesn't bother me." She smiled at him as he cocked his head to the side.

Malcolm was surprised to say the least, no one have ever been so pleasant about his night terrors. So, flippantly kind about them.

She stood and pressed down her shirt with her hands.

"I'm sorry I should leave." He reached his arm out. She flinched back slightly though Malcolm chose not to mention it.

"You can stay, if you'd like." She nodded and stood awkwardly.

"How about I make you a coffee." He smiled at her and sat at the island.

"That would be lovely."

She floated around the kitchen like a bird, grabbing whatever she needed as though it was her own kitchen.  He watched her sway her hips as if she were dancing to music.

She gently moved the cup onto the island, she stared down at it,  glancing back at him as she did. He nodded at her and grabbed the mug, taking a small sip.

"Thank you, it's quite good actually."

Thank you @buggylad for beta-reading

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

#10 - free ship choice? x

“Don’t just say that and then walk away.”

Hhhh... hard to pick a ship to go with this one...

Let's go with Malcolm/Ten because it's been AGES since I last wrote for those two and their relationship is pretty much 90% angst.

This is still in the early days of them knowing each other, before they actually get together, so basically when Ten is still an enigma to Malcolm, the weird man who keeps showing up at random times in his early life on the island.

On with the fic!

--

The first time Malcolm became aware of the mysterious sound that he would later know as his signal that the Doctor was arriving, it had been in the late evening, just before the sun finally set.

He had been coming back from visiting the Goddess, aware that even in the setting light of the sun, he could see that the colors of the forest were brighter, healthier than before. But then he heard it, a strange sound unlike anything he had ever heard before, echoing through the trees.

It sounded like grinding metal, wheezing, or if someone dragged a key across piano wire. Malcolm stopped, trying to figure out where the sound came from, but he couldn't pick up the source of it, what direction it came from.

"Must... be my imagination..." He muttered to himself, deciding it was wise to ignore such sounds. The island had enough mysteries to it, he really did not wish for another to be added to his worries.

He stumbled as he walked along a slowly forming path, they really should find a better way to get to the Goddess without people finding this trail, before he stopped. Ahead of him was a man, dressed in a strange suit, a brown coat, and shoes too strange to be considered normal.

It was him, the Doctor, the mysterious man who kept coming and going with no explanation!

Malcolm glared, clutching his staff tightly, a weapon, just in case. "You again." He said, a small growl in his voice. "What have you come to tell me this time, Doctor?"

"Just came to check on you." The Doctor replied, voice even, calm, but hiding something else.

"Check on me?" Malcolm nearly barked a laugh. "Ah, finally living up to your so-called title, eh?"

The Doctor's neutral face shifted, a small frown coming to him. "I see we're not on good terms at the moment."

"Have we ever been?"

"Probably not for a while, I'm not sure how far back I am." He said, always in riddles. "How long have you been here?"

Malcolm didn't want to say, he just continued to glare, but eventually he spoke. "Nearly two years."

"Have you started your community?"

The prophet bristled. "There are... people." The community, his congregation, they were growing month by month.

The Doctor nodded, a solemn look on their face. "I see... so it's still the early days. Maybe there's a chance to change things now..." In the still quiet of the woods, the too quiet of the woods, Malcolm could hear the Doctor mutter to himself.

"No, no... that would be messing with any fixed points, there are always fixed points... don't get your hopes up, don't go thinking like that again..."

What did that mean?

Before Malcolm could question him, the Doctor sighed and turned on his heels, heading up a small incline, about to go deeper into the trees.

"H-hey!" Malcolm called out, trying to follow him. "Don’t just say that and then walk away! What nonsense are you on about now, Doctor!"

He hated when this man spoke like a prophet of a Greek myth, hidden messages in enigmatic sentences, he always spoke like he knew more than he let on.

He probably did.

The Doctor looked over his shoulder at him, giving a sad smile. "Sorry." He said before he started to run, long legs carrying him off into the growing darkness.

There was no way Malcolm would be able to catch him, not in his condition, not into the darkness. He cursed under his breath, shaking his head. "Fine, keep your secrets." He said to no one, moving to continue his walk back home.

Then he heard it again, the strange sounds from earlier. He swore he saw a glow in the distance, somewhere in the darkness, fading in and out before it was finally gone.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Stay The Night // Malcolm Bright (Prodigal Son)

Summary: He never stays the night.

A/N: My first Prodigal Son fic! I am still getting to grips with Malcolm’s character so forgive me if things seem off! I would love some requests for Prodigal Son so feel free to drop them in my inbox! I am only writing for Malcolm right now. I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: light angst, hurt/comfort, cute

Word Count: 1.7k

He never stayed the night.

He would fasten his shirt; taking care with each button as he kisses you again and again. He would laugh against your mouth – his hands stopping yours from undoing the buttons once again.

He never stayed the night.

It never mattered how many times you told yourself this would be the last time; you found yourself answering his phone call or his text and unlocking your door for him. Knowing he would let himself in; sweet nothings on the tip of his tongue – ready to be whispered lovingly into your ear.

It didn’t matter how many times you pleaded with him. He never stayed the night.

He claims that it’s to protect you, but you wonder if it’s more to protect himself. That he’s so innately terrified that the walls he spent years building are so happy to crumble around you. That he just isn’t ready for that yet.

Doubts fly around your head; distracting you from your work, pulling you away from his arms when he least expects it. Malcolm notices – of course he does, he’s a trained profiler, he would notice the little changes in your behaviour. The distance you so obviously try to put between you; short answers to texts, upset sighs on the phone.

Malcolm starts to spend his days thinking of you: thinking of your smile, your laugh, your kiss. It occupies the better part of his day as he wonders whether he had taken advantage of you, of what the both of you have together. He knows that something has changed between you; that something is wrong, but he cannot work out the cause.

It comes to ahead the evening he enters the tunnels under the city, following a serial killer claiming to know more about the Girl in the Box. He follows the suspect blindly; not thinking of anything else but getting his answers though, for one brief moment, as his ribs are crushed in the turnstile gate, Malcolm’s mind briefly flickers to you. A moment of pain free peace in and amongst it all.

Malcolm’s breathing is slow and heavy when you find him in Gil’s office. His eyes are closed, but he feels your presence – it charges the atmosphere in the room, making him long to touch you, but falter at the idea that he could possibly hurt you.

“I thought they had called my mother,” Malcolm says in greeting; his voice tight as his ribs protest any movement, any breath.

You shake your head, holding up your phone as some semblance of evidence, “Gil rang about a half hour ago, asking me to come to the station and get you of his sight.”

Malcolm laughs, then gasps in pain, “I think Gil is angry with me…”

“Think?” You all but shout, “You think Gil is angry with you? Christ, Malcolm, I’m angry with you.”

Malcolm furrows his brows, confused at your outburst. His eyes wander over your body; the speed of your breaths combined with the flush under your skin and the thin line of your lips suggests your anger, but your eyes…

Your eyes show pain; anger is there, it is simmering away quietly, waiting for fuel to be added to the fire but through it all, pain is the key emotion. He cannot help but wonder how long he has been blind to the pain in your eyes; wonders whether it was visible every time he kissed you goodnight before leaving you once again.

Throwing your hands in the air, you cross your arms over your body, protecting yourself from whatever else is about to happen. Nudging the chair leg with your foot, you sigh, “Come on, I’ll take you back to your flat.”

Malcolm frowns: opening his mouth to begin to protest but decides against it at the last moment. Instead, he slowly pulls himself out the chair, doing his best to hide the grimace that falls across his face at the first hint of pain and follows you out of the door.

The car ride is silent and full to the brim with awkward tension. He doesn’t know what to say; he doesn’t know what to do. He cannot decide whether he should reach across the console and take your hand, offering you some form of comfort despite it being him that is injured.

He doesn’t take your hand. He chickens out at the last moment, unable to stop thinking about the pain in your eyes. Instead, he clenches his hand into a tight fist, willing himself to keep his hands to himself.

Distantly, Malcolm tries to pinpoint the exact moment it went wrong between you both. It wasn’t his job – you were just as dedicated to yours. It wasn’t his talent for profiling; for the keen sense of observation he uses in his everyday life.

It comes to him all at once.

He never stayed the night. He had left you too many times.

Tilting his head back onto the headrest, Malcolm deliberates whether he had left you alone one too many times, whether his time with you was now running out. He can feel the first crack in his heart when the thought crosses his mind; he feels it and he doesn’t like it.

-----

Malcolm’s flat is cold when you enter behind the brunette. His bird twitters away happily at the sight of their owner; you cannot help but smile softly at the sight of Malcolm greeting his beloved pet.

That very smile turns fond as Malcolm turns his attentions to you, gesturing you further into his home. To your heart, it didn’t matter how many times Malcolm had left you in the night, how his side of the bed turned cold before he had closed the door behind him. It didn’t matter because he had so easily managed to capture it for his own gain.

Malcolm takes a seat at his breakfast bar gingerly, willing himself not to jostle his side too much. He watches you with a wide-eyed expression as he tracks your movement; watching you grab a glass and fill it with water.

The glass landing on the counter is the only sound in the room. Malcolm doesn’t dare say anything for fear of pushing you further away; you refuse to say anything for fear of showing your true feelings.

“If you have everything you need, I’ll get going. I’ll call you in the morning to check up on you, Malcolm,” You comment quietly, pushing away from the breakfast counter, ready to leave and not come back unless absolutely necessary.

“What?” The questions falls from his lips before he even thinks it through; he just cannot seem to comprehend that you would leave him.

“I’m going. You’ve got your pain meds and some water, I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” You sigh, tugging your jacket tighter and heading for the door.

“Wait!” Malcolm calls, standing from the breakfast bar with slow, painful movements. It is only in this instant that he regrets ever following that man into the tunnel; it is only now he regrets such an action for the fact that it looks like you’re about to walk out of his life and Malcolm feels as if he won’t see you again.

“Wait,” He repeats, “Please.”

You pause at the door, turning to face him. His eyes are almost wild with unspoken emotions as he outstretches a single hand, as if he could bridge the gap that had grown between the both of you over the last few weeks.

“Yes, Malcolm,” You sigh tiredly. You feel the fight leave you as your limbs suddenly become heavy; the weight of the emotions you have been feeling these past few weeks beginning to press down heavily upon you.

“What happened between us?” He asks timidly, as if afraid of the answer he will find. Malcolm has searched for answers since he was ten years old, watching his father being hauled away by the authorities. Now, however, he finds himself scared of the answer he might find.

“You never stayed the night. You would always kiss me and then leave. Why?” You counter, finally asking the question that has been circling your mind since the pattern emerged. Your voice breaks with barely held in emotions.

“There is a lot involved when it comes to being with me. I didn’t want to put you through all of it,” He replies in reason, closing his eyes at the pain that so clearly sounded in your voice.

“I think I did alright tonight,” You comment airily, gesturing to his bandaged chest.

Malcolm laughs, but doesn’t regret the burst of pain from his ribs. He reaches for your hand again, smiling happily when you don’t pull your hand away. “I think you did alright tonight too,” He murmurs.

“So why would you leave?”

Malcolm averts his gaze, thinking over the words carefully. “Would you believe me if I told you I was scared?” He asks.

“Of what?”

“Of it all,” He confesses, “There is so much that comes with being with me, having to manage everything… I understand how it can become too much for one person so that’s why I would leave every time when all I really wanted to do was spend every waking minute with you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” You demand, curiosity your besetting sin.

“I was scared. I was doing it all to protect you, but I’ve gone about it the wrong way.”

You squeeze his hand, offering him a form of comfort as you work through what Malcolm has told you. He remains silent, happy for now to be stood by you, holding your hand in his.

“Stay the night?” He asks, pulling you gently towards the couch.

You bite your lip, glancing quickly between the door and the hopeful expression on Malcolm’s face.

“I want to make this a regular thing,” He states before clarifying, “Not the injured side of things, but staying with you, sleeping with you. I don’t like leaving you anymore. I don’t want to leave you anymore.”

“Malcolm…” You trail off, thinking of your countless attempts at taking your relationship further, at asking him to stay with you in the futile hope you could help with whatever terrors he suffers with at night.

“Stay the night?” He asks, repeating the same question from moments ago. His voice is hopeful, and his blue eyes shine bright with untold emotion along with the clear trust that burns there.

Smiling softly, you answer, “I’ll stay the night.”

****

Prodigal Son Taglist: @thecaptainsgingersnap​

[vaguely-concerned]

TF x Graves, 2500 words, complete and utter fluff

Stifling another yawn against the back of my hand I glance over at the window, which shows only the flat dark of a moonless night outside, before turning my eyes back to the line of T.F.’s naked back.

I’m already undressed and perched on the side of the bed, watching as T.F. is still in the middle of his nightly ritual of hanging or folding his fine clothes up all properly and neatly, lest they, I don’t know, unduly crease somewhere they ain’t meant to or somethin’. Listen, I keep my clothes in a pile on the floor by the side of the bed, right next to the shotgun, both within easy reach in the case of a middle-of-the-night emergency skipping of town. Our priorities in these matters don’t really intersect much, but to each his own and so on.

I don’t know why I’m waiting for him to come to bed to lie down myself, exactly — my eyes are already making a spirited attempt at staying shut on me whenever I blink, I’m pretty sure I’d be out and snoring in about three seconds once I got settled — but my skin has that thin restless thrum all through it that I know from experience won’t be satisfied until he’s settled into place against me and besides, the view is nothin’ to sneeze at in the meantime. He stands there shirtless, belt unbuckled and hanging loose around his narrow hips, though the fastenings of his trousers are still done up. In the light of the oil lamp across the room he’s in a rare state of relaxed unselfconscious disarray, his hair grown out long enough again that it spills over his shoulders and down his back while he fastidiously fastens the cufflinks back into place on the empty shirt so they’ll be easy to find in the morning. As he finishes up with the cufflinks he sings to himself under his breath, a good-natured jaunty little tune I vaguely remember the Brick would sometimes break out once you got a couple of drinks in him.

The hum under my skin grows higher and keener.

Stretching an arm out I hook my fingers into one of his belt loops and gently pull him in by it towards the side of the bed, until he’s standing between my legs. It prompts a half-bemused noise from him, but he goes along easily — when I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my forehead against his belly he seems to catch on, though, a sound of amusement vibrating through his chest.

He slides his hand to the back of my neck, twining his fingers into the short hair there, thumb trailing back and forth along the hairline.

T.F.’s too damned scrawny to have much in the way of padding anywhere, but there’s the warm body softness to him here nevertheless, the sweet yield and shift of a living thing whose pliancy belies the supple strength beneath. I rest my cheek against the flat of his stomach and sigh, moving my hand at the small of his back in slow caressing circles.

“Come to bed already,” I murmur, too sleep-softened along the edges to worry overmuch about makin’ sense.

He chuckles, fingers stroking through my hair. “Well, I was on my way, but then I was waylaid by some deplorable fellow in the process. Hell of a thing.”

I grin and turn my face up to him, so that my chin is resting against his belly and my lips brush his skin when I talk. “Huh. Sounds like a real shady character. You want a trustworthy sorta guy to escort you safely the rest of the way?”

“With such dangerous reprobates skulking around in the area, that’s probably for the best,” T.F. nods somberly, fond amusement deepening his voice. He runs his thumb down the bridge of my nose. “Could I afford to hire the services of a strapping upstanding gentleman like yourself, though?”

I make a nonchalant sound in my nose, squeezing him closer against me for a moment. “Eh, don’t worry ‘bout it, this one’s on the house.”

His thumb drifts down to rest at the upturned corner of my mouth as he grins back at me. “Hey, looks like it’s my lucky day.”

I kiss his stomach and lean back enough so I can start in on the fastenings of his trousers — not with any sort of heat behind it, there’s no hint of sex in the air, but in a weird way this is equally satisfying, the everyday-textured contentment of being close without any particular purpose, being the one to slowly render him naked in front of me for no other reason than that he lets me, his hands still smoothing patiently through my hair while I work.

Once I’ve got all the buttons sorted I run my thumb along the sharp edge of his hip bone until I can tuck it into the waist of his trousers and use it to tug them down. We get them about half-way down his thighs like that before we have to pause for him to shimmy out of them the rest of the way on his own, his hand resting on my shoulder for balance as he does the traditional one-legged hop to extricate his foot. Serves him right for only ever wearing pants that might as well have been painted onto him. I mean, not that I’m complainin’, mind.

“Whoa!” he says, laughing as he almost overbalances at the last hurdle, but my hand shoots out to steady him by the hip before too much disaster can be wrought. “Well, not the smoothest strip tease I’ve ever pulled off, sorry about the inconvenience.”

I nose at the newly revealed crease of his hip over the edge of his underwear. “Eh, that’s okay, if I actually wanted a proper show I’d just suggest a round of strip poker again and sit back and watch while you lose.”

“Oh, that’s a strange yet beautiful dream world you’ve made up for yourself there, Malcolm. It’s touching, really, the things the mind will do to protect itself from the truth. Positively — aah!”

T.F. jumps as I draw some of the skin of his hip between my lips and use them to nip sharply at it. His startled yelp turns into a snigger as I let go, possibly ruining the castigating effects somewhat when I brush my lips soothingly over that spot right after.

“Let that be a lesson to ya,” I say sternly.

“A lesson on what, that your mom was apparently half turtle?”

I grunt, still trailing soft kisses over his skin. “That judge in Piltover was right back then, you are an incorrigible menace to all decent and right-thinking people everywhere.”

“First of all, that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Malcolm, thank you. Two, including yourself among the ‘decent and right-thinking’ feels like the invention of some fresh new form of fraud by way of imposture unfolding before my eyes, and it’s an honour. And third, that seems to me to be some very selective memory you have there, considering His Honour Judge Highton had some even more colourful words for you after you blew up the entire north wall of the court building breakin’ me out.”

“He might’ve been given to wearing a damn silly mop on his head, but you couldn’t fault him on his vocabulary,” I concede. Before that whole incident I’d honestly thought the wigs were some sort of practical joke the Pilties would play on gullible outsiders, but as it turns out no, if you get sent to jail in the twin cities they add the indignity of makin’ someone wearing a dead badger on their head break the bad news to you. It’s a strange ol’ world out there, alright. In Bilgewater, where people are much more sensible, the justice system basically boils down to the bounty board, or — if you’ve really managed to make a nuisance of yourself — a bunch of captains may call a temporary ceasefire with each other and go get your ass together. I’ve found that the risk of getting on the bad end of an unfair trial is about the same in both places, though of course the Bilgewater one tends to be harder to come back from if carried out to its fullest. I consider myself a bit of an expert in these things.

T.F. makes a thoughtful sound. “To be fair I don’t think anyone had ever given him cause or inspiration for profanity like you did.”

“Aw. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

He leans down and kisses the top of my head before he straightens for long enough to work his second foot free as well, standing there in just the sleek silky underpants he somehow seems to have an endless fresh supply of wherever we go. (My money’s on some sinister underground ring of lingerie-oriented tailors across south-eastern Valoran, for the record; when it comes to secret societies the Noxians just can’t help themselves.)

“I do my best. Hang on just one moment, I’ll be right back,” he says and ruffles my hair before he turns around, which I would complain about except that the view is, as previously mentioned, impeccable, and I’m sleepy enough to be magnanimous.

After meticulously folding his trousers and leaving them with the rest of his clothes, T.F. moves over to the table across the room and extinguishes the oil lamp, then whistles under his breath as he produces a card from somewhere — he does this, seemingly from thin air and no matter how little he’s wearing; I prefer not to speculate too much about how, exactly — and lets a little magic into it so it gives off a low glow, only enough to light his way the short walk back across the room, ‘cause in T.F.’s world the stubbing of toes and smacking of shins against unexpected furniture in the dark is somethin’ that happens to other people. That probably says some things about him I’m not ready to go puzzlin’ out at this time of night, and that he wouldn’t want to have anyone go puzzlin’ about too hard in the first place anyway.

When I hold out my hand for him in the dark he smiles and takes it, twining our fingers together, and I use the hold to tug him in and deposit him, in a neat controlled wrestler’s roll held close against me as I lay down, to his side of the bed. He laughs again at that, a surprised delighted sound that edges dangerously close to a giggle but hey, I ain’t no snitch, so who’s gonna testify against him, huh?

The card ends up on the far side of his pillow after the tumble, still giving off a glow, enough to illuminate the bed and lend the shadows around it some warmth. It makes the bed seem a small cozy island, the rest of the world rendered a not-unfriendly ocean of darkness around it.

T.F. looks at me like the world’s most contented castaway, bourgeoning crow’s feet punctuating his smile on either side and fingers still linked with mine. His hair is mussed from the meandering fall onto the bed. If I were only fractionally less about five seconds away from fallin’ asleep, my body might start to get ideas about it. Well, tomorrow is always another day.

With the back of my free hand I brush some of his hair away from his brow, and he cranes into it like a well-pleased cat. Even with the blankets tangled around our feet and the not-quite-right positions we’ve ended up in, having tumbled into place rather than settled ourselves with purpose, everything feels warm and loose and comfortable, like I could fall asleep like this even with the decidedly odd angle my arm is at.

As if sensing that the drowsiness is about to claim me for real, T.F. brings our linked hands up to his face so he can press his lips to my scarred knuckles before he lets go, then reaches to pull the covers over us, taking a moment to tuck the blanket around my shoulder properly before snuggling under it himself, hooking his leg over my thigh as he settles into place. I shift until we fit together, the familiarity of how to rest against each other just right comfortable like an old and well-loved piece of clothing. On a sigh he rests our foreheads together, craning forward the tiny amount needed to brush our mouths together and humming contentedly when I meet him there. It’s a slow kiss, but it lingers, a dry sweet press of lips like one last spark sending the day off down into the gently drifting murk of sleep that’s about to claim me for a few hours.

When it ends — I don’t think either of us was really the first to pull back, at some point the kiss simply, in the way of snowflakes on tongues, melted into something different and less defined with the warmth — there’s a moment when my eyes can still fight against slipping shut. It’s weird, the way you can look at someone every day for years and still not feel like you’ve had your fill. T.F.’s sharp narrow face, his high pointy little cheekbones and mouth still curved with a smile as he watches me back — there’s something to knowing I’m gonna see all that again tomorrow morning that all the damn money on Runeterra couldn’t get you. And take it from me, from what I’ve seen of the world there ain’t a lot of things in this life enough money won’t buy. Stumbling across one of them long before we even knew what we had, by a stroke of little more’n dumb fucking luck… sometimes it feels like the biggest heist we ever pulled.

“Hey, Tobias?” I say, brushing the tip of my nose against his as my eyelids finally give up both the battle and the war and slide closed.

“Hmmm?” he says, cheerfully drowsy as well.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I murmur, because I can’t think of any damn happier thing in the world to say to him.

He wraps his arms around me, his hand stroking meanderingly up and down the scar-crossed span of my back, fingers trailing over my skin with the perfect amount of firmness because he’s taken the time to learn exactly how much pressure it takes to make it comforting. As sleep starts pulling me under to calmer depths I tuck my head under his chin, so my face is pressed to the line of his throat and to his chest. He smells so nice, all warmly real and well-known like my own breathing.

“Tomorrow,” he agrees on a yawn, nuzzling at the top of my head and tightening his arms around me, just for a moment.

I've been trying to write stuff -- literally just anything, no matter how meandering and nonsensical -- to try to break out of a writer's block; it's not really working so far but at least I've got SOMETHING tangible to show for it at the end of the day, so, you know, uh... partial success I guess?? haha

The idea of T.F. having a judge somewhere out there who considers him the One True Nemesis of his career, J. Jonah Jameson style, even though T.F. barely even remembers his name, came from a wonderful conversation with @inversway, and the idea makes me laugh so hard every time I think about it.

ETA: Also put this on AO3, so I have somewhere to put these ficlets that isn't just tumblr! I'm grimly clinging on to this blue hellsite like a obstinate barnacle to the hull of the Titanic, but I do realize it's not the best place to archive uh anything lol