#prodigal son imagine

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Science Behind the Madness (Martin Whitly)

Martin Whitly x Fem!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: You're lucky to have a sexual partner so versed in the science behind the female orgasm.

CW: medical play (gloves, patients chair, medical talk), thigh slapping, daddy kink, overstimulation, dirty talk, verbal humiliation. vaginal fingering

Prodigal Sons tag list: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

“Did you know,” Martin says as he slides one gloved, lubed-up finger across your soaked slit. “The behind-the-scenes of the female orgasm is really quite fascinating.” He’s grinning that killer shark grin that you love oh so much. It’s not cute, that’s for sure, in fact, it’s terrifying. A true darkness lay beneath that grin, those eyes. And yet, despite this, that darkness turned you on like nothing else. 

“I-is it?” You stutter, clit already pulsing despite the fact Martin hadn’t even done anything yet. 

“Oh, yes,” he said, absent-mindedly fingering at your slit. His eyes didn’t leave yours for a moment. “See, right now? Your sweet little cunt is lengthening, the cells in your vaginal walls lubricating you. That’s called the ‘excitement’ stage. Not an overly scientific name, I know.” 

You squirm in the stirrups of the patient's chair, cunt clenching on nothing. Martin laughs, and flicks at your clit teasingly. 

“Even that pretty clitoris of yours is starting to swell, isn’t it? How sweet, I’ve barely touched you and you’re so needy for me.” Martin’s tongue flicks across his front teeth, his eyes finally splitting from yours down to look at your pussy. He spreads two fingers across your slit now, splitting your labia apart. Your cheeks flush at the vague humiliation of the act. 

“Oh, but not just your clit, hmm? No, your nipples, too, they start to engorge. I’ll bet they’re starting to get perky, now, aren’t they?” 

You whimper, chewing on your lip. You’re going to start grinding on his fingers soon if he doesn’t finger fuck you to within an inch of your life in the next two seconds. Martin seems to understand this and tuts mockingly before sinking those two fingers to the knuckle inside you. You groan with relief, that deep ache inside easing. 

“Oh, there she is. Look at that. Looks like you’re entering the plateau stage, sweetness,” his fingers start to move, stroking your inner walls and stretching you out before beginning to thrust. You moan openly, to which Martin shushes you with a loving grin. “Now, during the plateau stage, all your other senses are washed away as your brain starts to focus on your orgasm.” 

His fingers start thrusting harder, and you struggle to keep your knees from closing. Martin wouldn’t appreciate that, and he’d have to punish you. You weren’t in the mood for a punishment just now. He chuckles. From his angle, he can almost see your clit twitching and pulsing with pleasure. 

“Oh I know, darling, you want Daddy to play with that pretty clit, don’t you? Can’t cum without it, I know. It’s very common, actually,” his fingers fuck into you harder as he continues. “I believe it’s something like eighty per cent of women can’t finish without clitoral stimulation.” 

Your head drops back into the headrest. You’re panting, chest heaving and sweat beginning to bead along your skin. God, you want to cum. Martin knows exactly how to keep you from doing so, however. He’s got your insides mapped out like a surgical textbook. He knows exactly what spots to hit to make you keen, which spots to avoid that hurt, or which spots to ruthlessly slam into you to make you cum harder than a fountain hose. 

Right now, though, he’s making you wait for it. 

“Where was I?” His fingers slow, and he rubs his thumb over your clit in soft, thoughtful motions. “Oh, yes, the plateau stage. Do you notice how you’re breathing harder now? That’s part of the plateau stage, darling.”

His fingers start stretching you out again, thrusting back and forth, aiming directly for that spot that makes you see stars. 

“Some of the outer parts of the vagina start to engorge with blood,” he continues, completely engrossed by the view of his fingers disappearing and reappearing from your sopping cunt. “Your heart rate, respiratory functions and blood pressure continue to increase as you get closer to that precious orgasm.” 

You bite back the moans threatening to slip loose, and your thighs shake with the effort of staying open. 

“And when you orgasm, and you will- fucking- orgasm for me, darling, that’ll be a whole bunch of vaginal and pelvic floor muscle contractions. Oh, look at that, so close for daddy, hmm? Such a good girl for me, come on.” 

You’re getting so close now, muscles starting to tense, your mouth opening in a silent plea.

“That’s it, oh, look at you. Such a prime example of the female form, hmm? So exquisite. My darling, come for me.”

 

When you can’t even utter a word, and you seem to just be leaning against that precipice, Martin scowls, flashing a murderously determined look towards you. 

“My dear,” he warns. “If you don’t cum for me, you’re going to regret it, I promise you.” He brings his other hand forward, slapping lightly at the inside of your thigh. Your whole body jumps, and Martin tuts. “Come on, little slut, cum for Daddy. Right. Now.” 

His words push you over the edge, orgasm ripping through you. Martin laughs, fucking you through the waves of pleasure. Fucking you through those contractions. You moan wantonly, muscles finally giving in and starting to relax.

“There we go, right there, sweet thing,” Martin says, all smiles once again. “That’s the resolution stage. Post-orgasm the blood pumps back through your system and away from your pretty little cunt.”

 

His fingers had started to slow as your orgasm drained out of you, your clit pulsing pleasurably. It was almost too much. 

“Another interesting fact for you, my dear. Males tend to need time to recuperate after orgasm,” he goes on. You whimper as his fingers start to speed back up again, abusing your, overstimulated G-spot. “But women? Oh, they can go over, and over, and over again. Essentially no recuperation time.”

He scrunches his cheeks up teasingly, standing up from his chair to lean over you, his arm pistons back and forth harder now and without mercy. He was going to make you cum whether you wanted to or not. 

“Isn’t that just- fascinating? I think so. You’re going to cum for me. One more time. Or two, if I feel like it. Daddy wants to watch you come undone on his fingers. And if you’re a good little whore, daddy will fuck you good and proper later, honey, hmm?” 

You nod, head dropping back onto the rest behind you. Your whole body is convulsing with the stimulation. It doesn’t take long at all before you’re reaching that peak again, much to Martin’s visible pleasure. 

“Oh, that’s it. Cum all over daddy’s fingers, darling.” 

You whine, legs twitching with the aftermath of your second orgasm. Martin pulls the glove from his fingers, tossing it into the bin in the corner of the room. 

“See? Now, wait until I tell you all about the benefits of toys, my dear.” 

Martin smirks deviously. 

“That will certainly be a night to remember.”

#martin whitly #martin whitly imagine #martin whitly x reader #prodigal son #prodigal son imagine #michael sheen #martin whitly x you #dr whitly #dr. whitly x reader #prodigal son x reader #michael sheen x reader #x reader #martin whitly x yn #martin whitly x y/n #smut #prodigal son smut #martin whitly smut #doctor whitly

[multifandomfix]

Imagine Martin Whitly kidnapping you.

Well dressed. Warm smile. Easy charm. How had all that come to this?

You woke to a dim light above you, your head pounding and the same man you’d considered to be such a catch was standing in front of you with a grin.

“M-Martin,” you stumbled, finding hard to speak over the fogginess of your mind.

His smile dropped to a more serious expression. “I’m afraid I’ll have to insist on Dr. Whitly now. You will be undergoing surgery and I think it’s best to keep things professional.”

You couldn’t quite make sense of what he was saying, finding his words hard to follow in your current state, but you hadn’t the energy to ask for clarification.

As he prepared surgical tools at a table several feet off, you began to piece things together. Dr. Martin Whitly wasn’t the man you thought him to be and you were overwhelmed with the sudden urge to preserve your own life.

“I could prove useful to you,” you said.

“Could you now,” Martin asked, clearly amused at your offer.

You didn’t have a plan for where you were going with this, but the fog was beginning to lift, so you pressed on. “I know people, young women, who won’t be missed. No family, flighty with friends, looking to make a little extra cash. I could bring them to you.”

“And what exactly would you get out of this?”

“You.” This answer seemed to surprise him. “You’re an easy man to fall for, Dr. Whitly. I don’t just want my life or my freedom. I want you.” It was a play on his vanity, but it was the only thing you could rely on, and prior to today, the complete truth on your part.

“Prove it and my answer is yes. Deceive me, and I will hunt you down.”

For anon

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @immyowndefender, @valencethefriendlychangeling, @crimsonwidow666, @rebelbossheart, @thedailyspiritualist, @orangeisnttheonlyfruit, @woman-simp, @aperol-with-izzy, @leonoralessoem, @ellepossum69, @lakita-fisher, @nclgsticore, @ayanthegreat28, @analuw, @luvlesavyy, @rukia-28, @malfoyfeed

Martin Whitly: @locke-writes

#martin whitly #martin whitly imagine #martin whitly x reader #prodigal son #prodigal son imagine #request

[writethrough]

Hi ;) I don't know if you're currently accepting requests, but if you do, may I request a Malcolm Bright x Reader fic please ? TW : Self-h*rm, anxiety, depression, ED, mental illness.

Reader and Malcolm are very close friends so they both lovingly care about each other. Reader hasn't been answering any of his calls and messages for a few days, which is unlike her 'cause she always picks up the phone when he calls her. He starts to grow more and more worried, especially because he knows about her mental health struggles. So naturally he decides to go check on her. When he arrives he finds her in a very bad state : depression, anxiety, ED and Self h*rm have been hitting her harder that usual. He stays in at her house for a few days to take care of her, which includes reassuring her when she gets panic attacks, telling her that he strongly cares about her and that nothing will make him leave her, laying beside her to help her sleep, hugging her etc. Eventually she starts to feel a bit better.

I know it's very emotionally charged, both with dark stuff and comfort/care stuff, so if you feel like you can't do it, it's totally okay, I understand. Do whatever makes you feel the most comfortable.

Please take care 🤍 Sending you hugs.

To Make It Through

(Malcolm Bright x Gender-Neutral Reader)

Warnings: Insinuations of self-harm, ED, depression, anxiety, and mental illness.

Word Count: 1203

A/N: I wasn’t sure how to begin writing this. The most important goal for me was writing this with respect to those who suffer from self-harm, depression, mental illness, ED, and anxiety. I have never experienced the first four, but I’ve dealt with mild to moderate anxiety, I believe since I was young (I’d like to add, I’ve never been diagnosed by a doctor for anxiety). I have no idea what someone who lives with these struggles goes through. I wanted this to be a comforting story, one that hopefully brings a little light to everyone who reads it.

I didn't want to include too many details that could be triggering or potentially disrespectful to those who deal with the topics above.

And to anyone who is suffering and in need of help, below are different hotlines and resources.

National Eating Disorders Association

988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline

The Trevor Project

National Institute of Mental Health

Malcolm unlocked your front door with the extra key you gave him.

It’d been three days since he last heard from you—no responses to his texts. No calls or video chats, not even a dumbass meme. And he was worried.

You were religious in your response time to him. Honestly, he had no idea how you could send a text off so quickly.

First, he noticed the dishes on your counter. A few days' worth. Then, the blanket was on the floor instead of folded neatly over the couch. Your curtains were drawn tight, and the couple of plants you had were a little less lively than when he was here last week.

He slowly pushed your bedroom door open so as not to startle you.

It was difficult to see through the darkness, but from what he could tell, clothes were thrown around the room. And he could make out a thin layer of dust on your bookshelf.

He took in your curled state under your comforter. Only the top of your head peeked out.

He didn’t need to ask you what was wrong. You’d known each other long enough for him to recognize the signs.

After slipping his shoes and coat off, he gently lowered himself beside you. He didn’t move the covers or speak, only placed a hand close enough to your back so you could feel him while not being touched. 

He didn’t know if you were awake, but that didn’t matter. He’d wait however long it took until you were ready to acknowledge him.

He wondered when you last ate—those dishes were probably older than he thought. He tried to recall if there were any warning signs he should’ve picked up on when he was here last time. But you seemed fine.

You were also very good at hiding it.

About an hour later, you shifted to face him, still beneath the blankets.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

He whispered your name. You didn’t move.

He tried again. “Can I do anything for you?”

You sniffled, and his heart nearly broke.

“Can I move the blanket, honey?” he asked.

The top of your head moved slowly in a nod.

He hooked a finger and pulled down carefully, revealing water-lined eyes with bags under them.

He thought as much. When things worsened, you never slept well.

“What do you need?” he whispered as gently as he could.

You didn’t look at him as your hand emerged to clutch your pillowcase.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled.

He nodded. He couldn’t let you stay like this.

“Then, could you do something for me? I know you won’t want to, but you can come right back. I promise.”

You glanced at him, then looked away. As much of an acknowledgment as he would get.

“Go take a shower. Take as long as you need,” he said.

You didn’t fight him, didn’t argue, and he took that as more of a bad sign than anything.

Once your bathroom door closed, he stripped the bed and threw everything in the washer. After replacing the sheets, he put the discarded clothes in your hamper and tossed any trash he spotted. He kept the blinds closed. Baby steps.

He was finishing putting the dishes away when you walked out in a towel and back into your room to change.

You didn’t ask what he was doing or tell him he didn’t have to do it. You almost ignored him.

You had already returned to bed when he entered. This time, you were against the headboard, staring off into space.

He sat beside you.

Your hands rested above the covers, wrists on display, and his shoulders relaxed.

It hadn’t gotten that bad.

He let you have your silence. Sometimes it was what you needed.

“Why are you friends with me?”

Sometimes it wasn’t.

“Because I need you,” he said.

It was all he thought to say. Superficial compliments wouldn’t stop your mind from spiraling. Hopefully, you’d believe him.

You shook your head. “You deserve better.”

He wanted to shield you from your own words. 

“(Y/N), I need you to look at me,” he said. And when you didn’t, he repeated himself. “Please?”

You glanced at him, rubbing the hem of your shirt between your fingers.

“Have I ever lied to you?” he asked gently.

You shook your head slowly, hunching your shoulders.

“I will always always tell you the truth,” he said. “You’re my best friend. That’s never going to change, okay?” He carefully pulled your hand between his. “I care about you so much, (Y/N). You’re never going to get rid of me.”

You sniffled, glancing at him through your lashes.

Tears lined his own eyes, threatening to spill forth.

You were his best friend. He’d be lost without you, and he needed you to know that he’d never go anywhere, that he belonged by your side. You made him feel seen. You made him feel sane.

Whatever you needed from him, he would give.

“Can you…Can you hold me?” you whispered, trying to keep your voice from breaking.

He answered by laying on his back, waiting for you to settle on his chest, hands still connected.

“Get some rest,” he whispered. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

—

Malcolm stayed with you for the next few days. He even called Gil and said he had to take a personal day, much to Gil’s surprise and pleasure. Thankfully, Gil didn’t ask any questions. Malcolm never would’ve broken your trust like that.

Today was the first day you had gotten dressed. Malcolm considered that a massive sign you were starting to feel more like yourself.

“How’re you feeling?” He took in every feature of your face, searching for the most minute twitch.

“I’m…I’m better.” You nodded slowly. “I’m not okay. I know that, but I’m better than I was. Not everything’s as…dark.”

The corner of his mouth tilted up in a sympathetic smile. His fingers found yours, holding them lightly.

“All healing takes time. And I’ll be right here whenever you need me.” His eyes stayed locked with yours, nothing but sincerity in them.

You swallowed. “Thank you.”

He shook his head slightly. “You never need to thank me for doing something I want to do.”

It brought tears to your eyes—how kind he was. Malcolm was the only person you could trust with everything. He knew what it was like to be trapped in your own mind, to hate so many parts of yourself that you want to rip out.

And each time you were on the verge of relapsing, he’d pull you away from the edge. As you’d done for him.

“Why don’t we take a walk? See how many squirrels we can feed,” he said, offering you his arm.

Your face lifted, not a smile, but not so melancholy as it had been.

“Okay.”

Grasping the crook of his elbow, you interlocked your fingers there and let him lead you outside.

The sun's warmth sunk into your skin as Malcolm launched into what his mother was trying to rope him into. And when the first chuckle in a week passed your lips, the darkness didn’t feel so encompassing anymore.

Taglist: @phenomenal-bird

If anyone would like to be added to my taglist, please comment or message me and tell me which character you'd like to receive updates on.

#Malcolm bright #Malcom bright angst #Malcolm bright fluff #Malcolm bright x reader #Malcolm bright x gender neutral reader #Malcolm bright x gn!reader #Malcolm bright imagine #Malcolm bright oneshot #Malcolm bright fanfic #Malcolm bright imagines #prodigal son imagine #prodigal son imagines #prodigal son oneshot #prodigal son fanfic #prodigal son #prodigal son angst #prodigal son fluff #prodigal son x reader #prodigal son x gender neutral reader #prodigal son x gn!reader

[make-me-imagine]

Cozy Winter Evening

12 Days of Christmas: Day 5

Plot: You and Malcolm take a break from crime and death to have a cozy Christmas movie marathon.

Pairing: Malcolm Bright x Gn!Reader

Warnings: None~

Words: 768; short and sweet

-

"Got the cookies?" Malcolm asked as he stirred the hot cocoa.

Setting the cookies onto a small dish you grinned "Yep, and they're perfect." You looked over at him and smiled "Ready?"

He smiled and nodded, following you back into the living room. Malcolm smiled at your obvious giddiness as you set the cookies down.

You had been looking forward to tonight for over a week. It got pushed back due to a murder case, but now you finally had your evening to relax and watch Christmas movies.

Sitting on the couch, he chuckled as he lifted the pile of blankets you brought with you "Think we have enough?"

"Not nearly" You said jokingly as you sat beside him, grabbing the blankets and lying them across you.

As you cuddled into Malcolm's side, he stretched his arm back across the couch behind you. The fireplace was crackling nearby as the rain pattered lightly outside.

Grabbing the remote you hummed "Alright, which one first?"

Malcolm shrugged "Home Alone?"

"Or Elf? Which I cannot believe you have never seen."

He shrugged his head "Eh, I wasn't too into Christmas at the time."

"That's fair" You commented before you looked over at him "Elf, Home Alone, and then How the Grinch Stole Christmas?"

"What about Die Hard?"

You tilted your head "We're not watching Die Hard, Malcolm."

"It's a Christmas movie!"

"Not a cozy night on the couch Christmas movie" You laughed.

He pouted playfully and you rolled your eyes.

"Fine, we can watch Die Hard, if, we watch a Muppet's Christmas Carol too."

Malcolm tilted his head back as he stared at you for a moment, contemplating your offer. Letting out a soft smile he nodded "Deal."

You grinned as you turned back to the tv "But we're still watching Elf first."

He chuckled as he looked at you adoringly, "Fine with me."

Three movies, Chinese take out, and too many eaten Christmas cookies later, you stretched as you stood up from the couch as the credits rolled.

"Die Hard next right?"

You looked down at him before placing out your closed fist "One round. Winner get's to pick."

Malcolm eyed your hand and smirked "Alright."

Reaching out his own fist, you locked yes before you began moving your hands, and speaking in sync.

"Rock, Paper, Scissors, shoot!"

Seeing Malcolm's fist remain closed, as your fingers shot out, you let out a groan as he fist pumped "Yes!"

"Alright alright, Die Hard next" You said with a pout, but your tone gave away your amusement. "I'm gonna get some more cocoa first, do you want some."

Handing you his mug he smiled "Yes please."

Walking towards the kitchen, your eyes passed over the window. Stopping, you let out a soft gasp "It's snowing!"

Malcolm looked over at you before looking out the window, seeing the soft snow replacing the previous rain drops.

Getting up, he walked over to where you were now in front of the window. The small flakes melted as they hit the street below, but you still smiled brightly at the sight of them.

"First snow of the season." Malcolm said softly.

"Now it really feels like Christmas" You said with a smile.

Malcolm looked over at your face, seeing the obvious glee in the wrinkles at your eyes. No matter how many winters you saw, you always loved the first snow.

Malcolm really took in how he was feeling for the first time as he watched you. At first he did not feel the Christmas spirit, after everything that had been happening in his life. But you came bustling into his house with decorations and a tree. Even bringing decorations for Sunshine's cage.

You made him cocoa, and cookies and made him watch Christmas movies, and he loved every minute of it. In between the uncertainty and drama in his life, there was always you. And just as you looked at the first snow in awe, he looked at you the same way.

Reaching over, he rested his hand on your back as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

After another moment of watching the snow in silence, he finally broke the silence with an amused smile. "Okay, now go get the cocoa, John McClane is waiting."

You let out a soft laugh as you stepped away from the window "Alright, alright, sheesh. You and your Die Hard." You finished jokingly under your breath as you headed into the kitchen.

Malcolm watched you for another moment, with a grin on his face., before he returned to the couch and your ridiculous amount of blankets.

xx End xx

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

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

#Malcolm Bright #Prodigal Son #Malcolm Bright/Reader #malcolm bright x reader #prodigal son x reader #prodigal son/reader #prodigal son christmas #malcolm bright imagine #malcolm bright drabble #12 days of christmas #day 5 #christmas 2022 #prodigal son imagine #malcolm bright x gn!reader

[bi-bard]

shout out to tumblr. for flagging one of my Malcolm Bright gif imagines from 2020 for... sexual themes...

what?

anyway, it was a gif imagine about Malcolm hallucinating and then getting hot chocolate after because I was 17 and was trying to show my fav some comfort.

#imagine #fanfiction #x reader #malcolm bright x reader #malcolm bright imagine #malcolm bright fanfiction #prodigal son x reader #prodigal son imagine #prodigal son fanfiction

[twistnet]

for you [ malcolm bright ]

⋯ SUMMARY ; on the way back home from a case, malcolm stumbles across something that reminds him of you

⋯ PROMPT ; strange artifact — your lover gifts you something odd they found at a secondhand store simply because “it reminded me of you” 

⋯ WARNINGS ; gn!reader, slight angst [ mention of murder scene ] + general fluff [ gift-giving, soft!malcolm + kisses ]

“... and that’s what i’m saying! it was a crime of passion! there is no way you could make clean and precise cuts like that without taking some sort of pride in your work!” malcolm states happily, smile beaming across his lips as the rest of his team look at him worriedly -- however, he’s grow far used to their reactions now and he wonders briefly why they haven’t done the same.

but as he walks back towards gil’s car, he slides to a stop in front of the large antique shop window, looking over the display with peaked interest, “hey, do you mind if i stop in for a little bit?” he questions to his mentor, bright eyes catching the confusion as girl towards to face him, “doesn’t this have something to do with the case?”

malcolm quickly shakes his head, “no... but i’ll be quick.” he states, ducking into the shop when girl nods his head and gives him permission. malcolm stumbles right in, hooking the corner and looking over the item he had seen on the other side of the window.

a small part of him realizes that the little antique is corny, and rightfully so. but it’s too adorable to pass up and he knows you would find the gesture to be sweet -- even if he might have to explain it to you when he gifts it to you later tonight.

it’s so perfect that he quickly calls the shopkeeper over, “how much for the little pin?” he questions kindly, pointing the pin in question with a bright smile. the shopkeeper gets him all settled, tying it up in a small box before waving him off with a kind gesture.

“did you... get what you needed?” gil questions him the second he exits, eyeing the little gift bag settled between his fingers, “yes, i did. are dani and jt already back at the percent? i just realized something else...” malcolm states, before delving into a full explanation as gil drives the two of them back to the precinct.

the second the case is solved and the suspect is in custody, he’s making his way back to his loft apartment in search of you. if he timed it right, you’d already be home and well relaxed from your long shift at work. the perfect time for him to give you his gift.

“oh, you’re home!” you exclaim, surprised to see your boyfriend come walking through the front door of his apartment, “i finished my case, and i’m just waiting for gil or dani to call me when a new one comes in.” he smiles, and you nod happily, “congratulations to you, always good to hear that you solved one.”

malcolm smiles, watching as you clean up you dinner mess. since the two of you had begun dating, you had always been enthusiastic and encouraging of malcolm’s case solving. sure, you did get concerned when he wouldn’t sleep or turned every ounce of his focus onto getting this case solve, but you were happy he found something he enjoyed doing.

“i got you something...” he utters softly, dropping the gift bag onto the counter as you look up, “oh, you didn’t have to get me anything.” you state, drying your hands as you come around the island to stand beside him.

“i saw it, and i thought of you. thought maybe you could have a little something to remember when i’m gone for so long...” he trails off, embarrassment flashing across his cheeks before you softly caress his cheek, “i’m sure i’ll love it...”

malcolm watches intently as you open the gift, pulling out all the paper before popping open the little box to keep the pin from getting damaged, “this is so cute...” you utter, picking up the little red lollipop pin from the box, “i love it...”

malcolm sighs in relief, smiling as you lean forward to wrap your arms around his neck and press a kiss to his cheek, “i’ll put it on my work vest!” you smile, removing yourself from his embrace to find your work vest, and pin the pin to the fabric by your name tag.

there’s no way to describe the happily that warms his heart the next morning when you’re leaving for work, and he catches the little lollipop pin just above your name tag when you lean down to kiss him, “i’ll see you later, babe.” you utter, not missing the bright smile that comes across his lips when he gaze floods down to the pin.

blog navigation ⇢ [ prodigal son masterlist ]

#prodigal son #prodigal son x reader #prodigal son imagine #malcolm bright #malcolm bright x reader #malcolm bright imagine #gn!reader #twistnet #twistnet works 2022 #twistnet's 5th anniversary

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Bumblebee’s Masterlist

Last Updated: 12/25/2023

Fics Posted: 640

General Notes/Warnings

⚡️Harry Potter⚡️

🎤Julie and the Phantoms🎤

💥Marvel💥

✨Twilight✨

🧠Prodigal Son🧠

🫀Hannibal (NBC)🫀

📜Plebs (2013)📜

🐕Cruella (2021)🐕

⚔️The Hobbit/Lord of the Rings⚔️

🕶️The Lost Boys (1987)🕶️ 🦋Encanto🦋 🪬The Magnus Archives🪬 🚔Gotham🚔 🥼Stranger Things🥼 📖The Outsiders📖

📰Newsies📰

#Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms imagine #jatp #jatp cast #jatp fanfiction #marvel #Avengers #The Avengers #Avengers assemble #avengers imagines #avengers imagine #twilight #twilight imagine #twilight fanfiction #prodigal son #prodigal son imagine #prodigal sons imagines #prodigal son fanfiction #hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannibal imagine #hannibal fanfiction #plebs #plebs (2013) #plebs fanfiction #cruella

[locke-writes]

The Ties That Bind

Author: locke-writes

Title: The Ties That Bind

Song: Killer In the Mirror - Set It Off, with Martin Whitly For: Anonymous

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,111

Tag List: @multifandomfix​ / ask to be added

Warnings: Blood, Torture, Murder

Killing was a master craft that Martin Whitly excelled in, but this wasn't the only one. Ever since he was a boy he'd been able to manipulate anyone into doing anything he asked. When he was younger he used this talent only to succeed in what might further his education, then after college, to get himself into the best medical school. His ability to manipulate anyone was part of the reason it was so easy to kill, because it was so easy to get his victims to trust him.

Due to the variety in the way that he'd killed his victims there were plenty who had gone unconnected for a period of time before Martin's arrest. He enjoyed pain, enjoyed seeing how much the human body could take and the most efficient of ways to deliver it while ending a persons life. Experimentation required many test subjects. That's what he'd viewed the killings as. Experiments to further his own research, habits from being a doctor, from being a medical student. You were one of those experiments.

He'd wanted to know how the idea of the pain that a person would feel influenced the actual pain that was to come. Martin made you watch as he tortured another person, made you watch while he killed another victim on a surgical table that he'd set up. Martin wanted to kill you, that was the entire plan in his mind, and yet the way you watched him work he understood what you were feeling. Bloodlust. You felt no pain watching the death occur before you, rather you felt a sort of twisted pleasure.

At first he was reluctant to untie you, to remove the cloth that bound your mouth so that you were unable to speak. Primitive methods but effective ones that needed to be used. At first he was reluctant to show you what he had done, yet his mind was changed when you did not fight, when you sat patiently waiting for what was next. Then you begged, pleaded with him as he removed the gag allowing you to speak your wishes freely rather than through glances at the body which was between the two of you.

The wishes that you shared were not to be set free, they were to work alongside him. Martin was not sure that he wished to be a mentor although he claimed that he would consider it. You understood his desire to work alone and waited for him to call you at the number that you provided. What he was doing is what you had dreamed of and yet never had the courage to do so. Perhaps with his guidance you might overcome this dear of being caught, this fear of wrong doing that prevented you from the potential you knew could be fulfilled.

Martin had no real intention of calling you, he'd made that decision as soon as you walked through the door. Truly he was meant to always work alone he believed. It didn't take long for you to realize he didn't take you seriously, that he thought you might have either been playing into some fantasy of his in an order to be free or that you just couldn't commit to what you were going to be taught to do. He needed to be shown that you wanted this, that you had been speaking the truth when you asked him.

When the knife ran through skin it was as though something unlocked within you. You recognized your technique was sloppy which was why you wanted to learn. It had been easier than you anticipated to get someone to trust you enough, to be alone with you long enough that you could kill them. You made sure you knew how to keep your DNA from being found on the scene and made the body up to look like how you had been tied up when you were captured. You hoped this would be enough of a hint for Martin to recognize that this was a gift to him, a way of saying that you were still interested in being what might be considered his protege.

He knew the body was for him although he took a few days to call. He'd wanted the media sensation to die down, wanted to keep from having another body appear right after your own kill. Truly he was impressed that you'd gone through so much effort to get him to notice you, to acknowledge you for what you were. Another killer, another mind with much the same desire as himself. Martin arranged a meeting and from then on there was a kinship.

For weeks the two of you worked side by side, choosing victims and killing them in turn. Martin often would walk you through the procedures that he'd wanted done, observing to see effectiveness of methods and to register the length of time an unskilled hand took in some of the more detailed dissections.  The credit was to be all his, you knew this from the start. Having the killings be done in his methods it was only obvious that you would fade into the background. You hadn't anticipated this being a blessing.

His arrest was learned about through the news like everyone else. Part of you was relieved that you could stop the killing through his eyes and start working on the killings through your own. Part of you was worried that Martin would attempt to pin everything on you if he implicated you in the murders at all. Of course it wouldn't make sense as all the killings were the work of someone with a skilled medical background, something in which you did not possess.

You avoided the news for weeks while the trial was going on. You waited for the police to come to your door but none came, life moved on. It took time before you found the courage to see Martin again, you questioned if he'd even want to see you but you were permitted a visit anyway. His room was unlike all the others, more privileges given to him than should have been granted with what he'd done. Even so it was nice to see him virtually unchanged by what had felled him.

Visits were occasional, never any sort of pattern to the frequency that would cause alarm. Each time the same phrase had been uttered to him before you left. To anyone who watched the conversations it was innocent, yet between you and Martin there was the underlying meaning that everything would be normal once more.

"It was nice seeing you. I hope we can continue all of this again."

#locke writes #martin whitly #prodigal son #martin whitly fic #prodigal son fic #martin whitly fanfic #prodigal son fanfic #martin whitly oneshot #prodigal son oneshot #martin whitly imagine #prodigal son imagine

[taxinealkaloids]

two b-list sons of God and a second-rate resurrection

#tlt #my art #tower princes here pictured shortly after having chopped up a bunch of devil-infested civilians at antioch and burning the bits #which is a thing they did! crazy. #like...between htn and ntn ianthe and kiriona were just. bonding over committing war crimes in the name of imperialism i guess! #i think ppl forget sometimes that they weren't JUST on the mithraeum they were actually at antioch. idk how much they were actually on #the front lines but they were THERE roughing it in the military encampment or w/e. and gideon seemed to have #pretty firsthand knowledge of the devils and their specific disposal methods so. yeah i think she was doing some chopping and burning. #anyway the text in image 1 is the parable of the prodigal son #and image 2 is luke 9:22 (jesus foretells his death) and mark 16:6 (the resurrection) #imagine you practice ninth house religion and your iconography looks like this.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Kisses (Martin Whitly Drabble)

Martin Whitly x GN!Reader / requests are: open and encouraged

Summary: You really want to cover Martin in kisses. What a shame his guard is distracted.

CW: possessive behaviour, alluding to murder, fluff, soft shit fr

Prodigal Son tag list: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

“I desperately want to kiss your face right now,” you sigh sadly, toes kicking at the red line on the floor of Martin’s cell. 

"Do you just? Hmm, I can't say I'd complain, darling," Martin arches his brow at you suggestively. You chuckle and check to see if his guard is watching. He's not, and you cross the red tape to straddle his waist in his office chair.

You cup his cheeks with your hands and press kiss after kiss all over his face. Cheeks, chin, forehead, neck. Any skin that was visible was now covered in kisses. Martin was sighing with pleasure, his cuffed hands brushing at your lower belly softly. It was the only part of you he could touch like this.

Martin nudged at your chin with his nose, grabbing your attention. He leaned his face up towards you, pressing a loving kiss to your lips. You melted against him, arms wrapping around his neck and fingering at the back of his cardigan.

"I wish I could touch you, my darling," he whispers, pressing a few slow kisses down the length of your jaw. "Hold you. Perhaps we could get married. Then we could get conjugal visits, hmm? Wouldn't that be something?"

You chuckle, nipping softly at the shell of his ear. This made him grunt.

"Not the most romantic proposal I've ever received," you say thoughtfully, sitting back on his lap. Martin laughs and then furrows his brows.

"How many proposals have you gotten?"

You flick at his nose and wink. He screws his face up in mock irritation before trying to catch your finger in a playful bite.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Well, I would, actually. I need to know how many people I need to hunt down when I get out of here. You're mine, darling. Do not forget it."

"I'm yours," you agree. "Utterly."

Martin hums thoughtfully.

"Does that mean..."

"No," you clarify. "Not yet. Ask me when you get out."

Martin chuckles darkly, though his eyes are the softest you've ever seen them.

"I'll hold you to that, my dear."

You'd be disappointed if he didn't.

#martin whitly #martin whitly imagine #martin whitly x reader #prodigal son #prodigal son imagine #michael sheen #martin whitly x you #dr whitly #dr. whitly x reader #prodigal son x reader #michael sheen x reader #x reader #martin whitly x yn #martin whitly x y/n #prodigal son fic #prodigal son fanfic #prodigal son fanfiction

[writethrough]

I've been waiting for this for so long ! Someone finally accepting Malcolm Bright fic requests ! I love this character so much for so many reasons. So, maybe you could do a Malcolm Bright x Reader or a Malcolm Bright x Original Female Character fic where reader / OC is either his girlfriend or best friend (whatever you decide ☺️) and she stays in at his loft for a few days to take care of him because he is homesick, and she comforts him when he has night terrors. He feels so loved and cherished and valued that he eventually tells her more about his intimate fears (he already told her about his disorders, Martin Whitly, the girl in the Box, Watkins, but he feared she will run away if she found out about his most obscure thoughts and fears because of so many past rejections) and then she reassures him and tells him that she loves him. - 😩 Eventually Malcolm opens up to her more and allows himself to show his vulnerability to her by crying on her shoulder while they hug. You get it. Just pure sweetness and care 🤍

Thanks ;) And please take care 🤍

So Be It

(Malcolm Bright x Gender-Neutral Reader)

Warnings: Language (one little f-word), sick Malcolm, softboi Malcolm, pining

Word Count: 1849

A/N: Soft Malcolm makes my heart briefly melt from its icy chamber. Sweetness and fluff are my guilty pleasures if you couldn't tell from my other fics! I don't think I used pronouns in this so I'm marking it as gender-neutral—hope that's okay! I'd like as many people to enjoy it as possible. Thank you for the request! And for being patient as I work through my ask box. I hope you enjoy!

“Malcolm, I say this with love, but you are the bane of my existence,” you said after opening every cabinet in his kitchen. Stale crackers and tea bags. That was it.

You had barged into his apartment after he hadn’t responded to any of your texts this morning. You knew his schedule by heart, and no matter what, he texted you back before he left for work. When an hour had passed without you hearing from him, you used your spare key and waltzed right in to find him bundled up on the couch, nose red and tissues littering the coffee table.

He groaned. “I’ve been busy with cases.”

“So busy you couldn’t have groceries delivered?” You crossed your arms even though he couldn’t see you over the back of the couch.

“I forgot,” he whined. One thing you knew about Malcolm Bright: he got whiny when sick. You imagined if you weren't so in love with him, you'd find it annoying.

You huffed, picking up his phone from the coffee table and placing a grocery order.

“There. It’ll be here in an hour,” you said, gently lifting his head so it could rest in your lap.

“Doesn’t that cost more?” His eyes were closed, and a blanket was pulled up to his chin.

“I’m sorry, which one of us actually owns their apartment?”

He peaked up at you through one eye. “Touché.”

You carded your fingers through his hair, and he let out a sigh of contentment.

“You don’t have to stay here, you know.” His voice was raspy from his sore throat.

“I kind of do. If not to help you get better than to keep you here. I’m afraid if I take my eyes off you for too long, you’ll sneak off to work.” You smiled warmly. Sometimes you thought Malcolm loved his job a tad too much. But it was endearing nonetheless.

“I don’t think I could move if I wanted to. My head’s killing me,” he said, squinting up at you.

“Get some rest. I’ll be here if you need me,” you said.

—

An hour later, there was a knock at the door, and you silently cursed as Malcolm stirred.

“(Y/N)?”

“It’s okay. Just go back to sleep.”

You carefully shifted him off your lap and grabbed the bags from the deliverer. It wasn’t much, just the basics, honey, and soup ingredients. He hadn’t eaten anything since you arrived, so you put a slice of bread in the toaster as you finished putting away the stuff you didn't need for the soup.

“(Y/N)?” Malcolm stood on the opposite side of the island, eyes rimmed red. He looked like a kicked puppy.

Striding toward him, you placed a hand on his forehead.

“Go lay back down. You’re burning up and need your rest,” you said.

He only groaned and leaned his head onto your shoulder. God, you hated seeing him like this.

You rubbed up and down his blanket-covered arms. “C’mon, honey, why don’t you go lay in your bed, and I’ll bring you some toast.”

He mumbled an “okay” in your neck and shuffled toward his room.

A few minutes later, you brought him his food and more tea.

“Thank you,” he said, his big, wet eyes gazing at you.

You brushed a stray hair out of his face. His cheeks were slightly flushed, but his shoulders shook ever so often.

“Do you want me to get you a hoodie?” you asked, watching as he took a small bite.

“No. I’m too hot,” he mumbled.

“Okay, finish that, and I’m gonna get your next dose.”

You returned, and he’d laid the half-eaten toast on his nightstand and sipped at the tea.

“Here.”

You switched the mug for the medicine and placed the cup down to hand him the glass of water. After swallowing, he didn’t say a word as he shuffled underneath the blankets.

“Get some sleep. I’ll work on some soup for later,” you said, using your hands to push off the bed.

But one of his stopped you from beneath the sheets.

“Please stay,” he whispered.

Taking in his current state, you couldn’t help the throbbing in your chest and the overwhelming urge to hold him. You wanted to take all of his pain away and keep him from ever feeling like this again.

He tried not to rely on people. The fact that he was asking you to stay and not pushing you out told you how terrible he felt. You’d do anything he’d ask.

“Of course.”

You slipped under the covers facing him as his eyes closed. It didn’t matter if he’d fall asleep right away you’d stay right here just so he wouldn’t wake up alone. Just so he’d have some comfort.

You and Malcolm had met when you were children. It was after his father's arrest. He had isolated himself from the other kids at the park, and you couldn't have that. So, you marched right up to him and told him you would be his best friend, and that's been true ever since.

An hour or so had passed as you admired his relaxed features. It wasn't until you were both well into your twenties that you developed feelings for him. He had swung by to drop off a book he told you about and ended up staying for three hours—you had only seen him two days prior. Once he left, your mom came into the kitchen with this little smile on her face. You nearly spit out your drink when she asked when Malcolm would ask you on a date.

You laid in bed that night when it hit you. You liked Malcolm.

A whimper broke you from your thoughts.

Malcolm shifted, still asleep, and this time, a whispered "no" slipped through his lips.

You'd seen how bad his nightmares could get. You knew it was important you didn't startle him, but you weren't about to lay there and let him relive whatever horror he conjured.

Slowly, you wiggled closer to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Laying on your back, you brought his head onto your chest and smoothed his hair.

"Shh, it's okay. It's not real," you whispered.

As your fingers threaded through his hair, his whimpers slowly quieted, and he inhaled softly. It was a few moments before he spoke.

“Thank you,” he whispered, eyes still shut. He didn't need to pretend with you. And he was grateful for it. 

“For what?” You had told him he didn't need to thank you for this. The first night you witnessed his night-terrors, he wouldn't stop apologizing. He couldn't even look you in the eye. But you reassured him, even told him about the nightmare that haunted you. It was then you both promised one another that if you needed the other person, you'd call and be there—it didn't matter when.

“For taking care of me. For staying with me so I wouldn’t be alone. For…For making me feel like…like I’m worth being cared for.” He blinked, hoping you couldn’t hear in his voice that he was fighting tears.

You swallowed and moved until you were facing him.

“You are worth everything.” You made it a point to keep your eyes locked. “You never have to thank me for prioritizing you. You’re my…You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you.”

You were walking a dangerous line. He had been a profiler for fuck’s sake. It was a miracle he hadn’t figured out you loved him already.

“It’s just…I know-I know you’re always here for me and will always be,” he sniffled, “I just can’t wrap my mind around why you’d want to stay. I keep,” he shakily inhaled, “I keep waiting for the day you leave and never come back.”

Your eyes were wide the entire time he spoke.

How could he think about all those things? No. You knew exactly why.

And it didn’t matter how long it took to prove to him otherwise—you’d do it—happily.

You cupped his cheek so he couldn't hide.

“I know you’ve been through so much, more than anyone should have to go through, but those things don’t scare me. They never have. You’re stuck with me, Malcolm. Even when you want me to leave you alone—especially when you want me to leave you alone. I’m gonna be here, no matter what. I promise.”

Tears were streaming down his face now, and he didn’t care. Not when you soothed his every insecurity. Not when you looked at him like he was important to you. Not when all he wanted to do was reach out and hold you and tell you how he’d fallen in love with you for those very reasons.

His arm wound around your back and slid you toward him. His head buried itself in your neck as he shook with a fresh wave of tears. You held him, running a steady hand up and down his back.

“I’m right here.” You placed soft kisses on whatever skin you could reach. “I promise. I’m right here.”

He quieted slowly, his body relaxing into yours as he was left sniffling, but he never let go of you. He wanted nothing more than to stay like this for the rest of his life. He wanted to feel your warmth. He wanted your hand on his back to become his new heartbeat. He wanted to never be without you.

He ever so carefully pulled away just enough to meet your searching gaze. And before he could say a word, you did.

“I love you.” It was the only thing that could settle his fears for sure. Even if it backfired, it’d be worth it to reassure him. He would believe you and know he was worth everything to you, and if you embarrassed yourself, so be it.

“I love you, too,” he whispered, the barest of smiles gracing his face.

You let out a breathy laugh, tears collecting at the corners of your eyes. He loved you, too. He loved you, too.

Your best friend. The person you told everything to and the only one who seemed to understand you loved you.

“I’d kiss you, but I don’t want to get you sick,” he said, squeezing your fingers.

“I think that ship has sailed. We’re nearly on top of each other.” It didn’t matter if you got sick. You were too happy to care.

He smiled, the first one you saw all day.

“I want our first kiss to be special. And I can’t breathe too well right now. Pretty sure that would ruin it.”

“How about this then.” You leaned forward and kissed his forehead, staying there a few seconds to try and push all the love you had into his skin.

You settled back, and his eyes were still closed, his lips slightly parted. You weren’t sure if his flushed cheeks had darkened or not.

“I hope I get better soon.” He said upon opening his eyes. 

You giggled, pulling him back onto your chest. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. Always.”

#prodigal son #prodigal son imagine #prodigal son fanfiction #prodigal son fanfic #prodigal son fluff #Malcolm bright x reader #Malcolm bright x gender neutral reader #Malcolm bright fluff #Malcolm bright x you #Malcolm bright x y/n #Malcolm bright imagine #Malcolm bright oneshot

[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

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

Requested Taglist: @le-green-lion

#Malcolm Bright #Prodigal Son #Malcolm Bright x Reader #malcolm bright/reader #malcolm bright x you #malcolm bright x y/n #malcolm bright/you #prodigal son x reader #prodigal son/reader #13 days of halloween #day 7 #halloween 2022 #malcolm whitly #malcolm bright fluff #oneshot #one shot #prodigal son imagine #malcolm bright imagine #malcolm bright oneshot #prodigal son fic #prodigal son reader insert

[bi-bard]

I'll Love You When the Oceans Dry - Malcolm Bright Imagine (Prodigal Son)

Title: I'll Love You When the Oceans Dry

Pairing: Malcolm Bright X Reader

Based On: She Calls Me Back

Word Count: 653 words

Warning(s): subtle reference to insecurities

Summary: Malcolm wasn't one to go out looking for love. When he met (Y/n), it simply hit him like a train. He felt like he was balancing on the line between healthy and obsessive. Maybe that balancing act wasn't as scary as he originally thought it was.

Author's Note: It has been a while since I've written for this character. I hope people still like how I write him because I've missed him.

STICK SEASON - NOAH KAHAN WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

**Written in third person**

-----------------------

It would be reckless to claim that one person could repair any problem that one had with their sleep cycle.

However, Malcolm would be lying if he tried to claim that having (Y/n) next to him didn't help him a little bit.

Maybe it was because being able to wake up and see them was very comforting.

Now... it was thoughts like that that worried him about his feelings for them.

He couldn't help but feel obsessive at times. He would find himself awake far earlier than he should've been and let himself relax next to (Y/n) like it was the most natural thing in the world.

His hand would cup the side of (Y/n)'s face as he scanned every part of their face.

Malcolm knew that they loved him, but he couldn't help but wonder if it felt like it did for him. If it felt like one touch could calm them in a moment. If it felt like being away from them made it just a little bit harder to breathe. If their mind couldn't help but wander to him and wonder about what he was doing when he wasn't with them.

He wanted to know how much of their mind he occupied.

(Y/n)'s eyes would slowly open a little while after Malcolm's. They would grin at him, tilting toward the palm of his hand. The skin offered them a sense of comfort and safety.

"Morning," (Y/n) muttered before looking over Malcolm's shoulder to the window. "Well... almost."

It was still dark outside. The best light source at the time was the streetlight outside of the window. It barely managed to graze part of Malcolm's arm.

"How'd you sleep," they asked.

"Fine," Malcolm said. (Y/n), through tired glances and a yawn, raised an eyebrow at him. 'Fine' was rarely a good answer from Malcolm. "Better."

(Y/n) chuckled. They reached up and grabbed his hand, moving it enough so they could press a kiss to his palm. He took a deep breath as they did. How could one small motion bring him so much comfort?

(Y/n) kept Malcolm's hand in theirs. Their lips rested against the side, a small grin forming as they watched his eyes study them.

"What's on your mind?"

Malcolm almost didn't hear the question. He was just so focused on committing every detail of them to memory.

"Malcolm?"

He blinked a few times, feeling like he was tuning back into the moment in front of him. (Y/n) had leaned back a bit, their thumb still running over the skin of his hand.

"What are you thinking about?"

"You," he replied. He was well aware of how sappy that sounded. He saw it in the amused look on (Y/n)'s face. "Sometimes I think I'm too in love with you."

(Y/n) furrowed their eyebrows.

"When does it become obsessive," he asked. "When does you constantly being on my mind go from sweet to creepy?"

He leaned forward, his forehead pressing against theirs. (Y/n) wasn't sure if he wanted a real answer or not.

In all honesty, Malcolm wasn't quite sure either. He just felt like his heart was being pulled to them. A constant state of longing that he grew to adore. He couldn't imagine his life without that feeling at this point.

(Y/n) pressed their lips to his.

It was a gentle kiss. Gentle and slow. Malcolm felt like he couldn't kiss them back fast enough before they pulled away again.

"I love you," they mumbled to him, face mere inches from his. "I love you so much. I couldn't see you loving me as 'creepy'. I just want to love and be loved by you."

Malcolm's smile grew again. "I love you too."

(Y/n) leaned forward and kissed him again.

He could live his entire life with that longing feeling in his chest as long as he knew that he could always come back to moments like this.

-----------------------

Author's Note: Not gonna lie, I really like this. It's just so gentle and loving.

-----------------------

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#malcolm bright imagine #malcolm bright x reader #malcolm bright fanfiction #fanfiction #imagine #x reader #prodigal son imagine #prodigal son fanfiction #prodigal son x reader

[twistnet]

teeth [ dani powell ]

⋯ KINKTOBER PROMPT ; day 14 [ love bites // marking ]

⋯ WARNINGS ; female!reader, smut [ love bites -- hickies, scissoring, marking -- nail marks, nipple play, cum ] + mature language

⋯ NOTE ; this content is strictly for those 18+ ; any minors // ageless // blank blogs interacting with this post // masterlist will be blocked

teeth caught the skin of her neck, lightly nipping a small mark just under the curve of her jaw -- somewhere that could be easily hidden by her hair or one of those oversized scarves she seemed to wear to scenes.

dani made a noise of disapproval, eyes narrowing up at you as you attempted to hide your smug smile, “what did i tell you about marks?” she questions, toning down her voice as she does when in interrogation rooms. while others maybe quiver in fear at the authority in her voice, it does nothing but send shivers of pleasure down your spine as you smile, “that i could leave them wear i want...”

another noise is made, but you ignore it in favor of sucking another mark into her skin, this time at the base of her throat. and act all mighty as she does, can’t manage to keep the soft moan from leaving her lips as you trail down along her shoulders and collarbone.

the both of you are nude, having already disposed of your clothing at the base of the stairs not long after she had entered through the threshold. you’ve got her underneath you, laid out all nice and pretty propped up against the pillows with you straddling one of her thighs -- dangerously close to her glistening cunt, but that’s not what you’re paying attention to at the moment.

dani sighs, whether in content or disappointment that she can’t prevent you from leaving something behind in your wake, you aren’t quite sure. but as stated, you want to she her all marked up and heated with embarrassment when she goes into work tomorrow morning. knowing damn well malcolm is going to make a comment about it.

marks litter her neck and collarbone at this point, but you aren’t quite done yet. mouth over to the mounds of her breasts, you kiss the tops of each before teeth latch against the skin and she hisses at the pain. your tongue quickly slides out, soothing the irritated skin before continuing the process until you feel satisfied enough with your work.

then your lips are circling around her nipple, and sucking lightly. her back arches into your hold, nails digging into your shoulder as you lick and suck at the hardened bud. you switch over to her other, giving it the same level of attention before pulling back with a big smile.

and dani wants nothing more than to wipe that smug look off your face when you sit up to admire the work your left behind, “hope you’re happy...” she bites out, before shaking her head with a light snort as you nod your head with happiness, “oh, i’m very happy... you look so pretty.”

dani mewls softly as your hands caress her sides, moving until your hands slide under her breasts, thumbs brushing up and over as you move to slot yourself over her cunt, clits bumping against each other softly as you get into position.

“god, you’re so pretty... can’t believe i have you all to myself.” you mutter, tentatively rolling your hips forward until your clit catches hers, and you nearly double over at the spark of pleasure that rolls up your spine. dani’s reaction is the same, her eyes slipping closed as you start up a steady pace.

your clits grinding together, hips jerking up to increase the pressure building and gasping moans that filled the air as the two of you chased after your joined high.

dani’s hands flew forward after a particularly rough grind, nails digging into the flesh of your hips as a way to ground herself and drag your hips closer to her own. you moaned at the pain rippling up your sides -- telling yourself its only fair that she leave some marks behind after what you had done to her beforehand. 

at the cusp of your orgasm, you leaned forward, hips still moving furiously as you pressed your lips to hers roughly. swallowing her moans as she fell over the edge with her thighs shaking violently, and nails digging further into your hips that you weren’t entirely sure if she had drawn blood.

slick pooled between your thighs as you shuttered out a heavy breath, before pressing a softer kiss to her lips with a bright smile, “you got back at me eventually...” you mutter, nuzzling into her neck as she chuckles softly.

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#prodigal son #prodigal son x reader #prodigal son imagine #dani powell #dani powell x reader #dani powell imagine #female!reader #twistnet #twistnet works 2022 #twistnet :: kinktober 2022 #tppkinktober2022

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Hurt- Malcolm Bright x OC

Malcolm Bright x Elena Nadis

Description: Elena gets hurt while on a case and Malcolm is determined to find the culprit, even hurting his father in the process.

Word Count: 3.1k

“Elena Nadis,” the girl greeted upon answering her ringing phone. At first, no one answered. She was prepared to hang up when a male voice finally spoke.

“You have until 7:00 tonight to meet me at Matte Street or someone dies,” he said, not even greeting her. Elena straightened up, brows knitting together in confusion.

“Who is this?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he snapped. “I’d hate to see such a pretty young thing like her die because of you. Come alone, I’ll be waiting.” Elena wasn’t allowed to get another word in before the man hung up. She could only stare at her phone in shock for a minute. Was this some sort of prank? She had no idea, but she most definitely did not want to take that chance. Her eyes landed on the nearest clock. 6:30, she only had half an hour to get almost all the way across town. She needed to go. On the way there she called Gil.

“I need you to look up a number for me,” she started seriously.

“Hello to you too Elena,” the man joked in response, but she shook her head.

“Gil, this is serious. Someone called me with a threat saying that I had to meet them somewhere or someone would die. I need to find out everything I can about this guy before I meet him so I have some leverage.” That sobered Gil right up.

“Alright, what is it? Do you need backup?”

“He said to come alone,” she responded simply. “I’ll keep you on standby though.”

“Does Malcolm know?” He questioned knowingly.

“No,” she answered immediately. “And he’s not going to, at least not yet. God knows what he’d do if he found out. Please don’t tell him.” She could hear Gil hesitate, and she prayed that he would let it go.

“Okay,” he finally said, which made her sigh in relief. “Well, keep me updated. I’ll find out what I can, just give me the number.” Elena did as she was told before hanging up and taking a deep breath. She knew very well that this could be a trap, but what if it wasn’t? Did she truly want to chance that? The answer was absolutely not.

She arrived at the street as the sun began setting, then sighed. Of course this guy wanted to meet in a shady looking alley. It was so cliche, but she’d have to grit and bear it if she wanted to save an innocent life. So, she grabbed her gun and hopped out of the car. No one was there, which surprised her. She’d seen enough horror movies to know that this wouldn’t bode well, but she didn’t really have a choice.

“Well, well, well, I didn’t expect you so early,” she heard a voice from behind her, which made her turn around. “How many times did you run a stoplight or stop sign to get here in time?” The condescending voice asked from in the shadows. Elena tilted her chin upwards.

“None, I guess the fates wanted me here so I could deal with you faster,” she responded simply. “What do you want with me? And where is the girl?” There was no answer for a minute, and it made Elena nervous. What if he already killed the girl? What if he was trying to kill her?

“Well, you arrived early, it seems that plans have changed,” he finally spoke, and Elena heard movement in the shadows. “I wanted to wait until Ainsley was here with the ransom, but I guess I can just leave this gift for her.”

“What-” Elena was cut off by her own gasp as a flash of silver caught her eye before pain seared through her abdomen. She froze in place, hands flying to the knife that was still stuck in her stomach, shortly before her legs gave away under her. Her head hit the ground first, but that pain was drowned out immediately, though her ears were now ringing.

“Don’t forget to give Ainsley my best wishes,” she faintly heard him tell her shortly before she was rolled onto her back. The man stood above her for a minute before disappearing from her line of sight.

“Wh-who are you?” She questioned weakly as she stared at the setting sun’s flaming orange sky, stars beginning to pop up.

“Someone hurt by your ménage,” he responded after a moment, then the knife was forcefully removed from her, making her grunt, and footsteps began walking away from her. She couldn’t do anything though. Anytime she attempted to move, the hole in her stomach reminded her that it was there. She had no idea how long she laid there. Seconds felt like hours the more they passed. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe. She was tired, but she knew that she would never wake up if she closed her eyes. But she couldn’t bear it much longer. Just as her eyes began drooping, she heard a familiar voice call out.

“Elena!” Jessica screamed. Wait, Jessica? Elena’s eyes opened once more to see the woman in question above her, Ainsley on the other side of her.

“Elena, honey can you hear me?” Jessica questioned soothingly. The girl couldn’t find her voice to respond, so she settled on nodding.

“Okay, we’re gonna get you some help, we already called an ambulance. Just stay with us.” Elena nodded once more, watching Ainsley take off her jacket.

“This is probably about to hurt you Lena, but I need to stop the blood flow,” she explained. The girl had no time to respond before Ainsley stuffed her jacket into the stab wound. Elena screamed in pain and attempted to curl in on herself. She didn’t get to do that though, Ainsley situated herself on the girl’s legs while Jessica held down her torso, grabbing the girl’s hand and allowing her to squeeze it as more waves of pain shot through her. It was absolute agony. She couldn’t think of anything to do other than cry. After what felt like another few hours, she could faintly hear sirens.

“Alright, they’re here now,” Jessica said, sounding relieved. “You’re gonna be okay Elena.” The girl couldn’t respond this time, just stared blankly at the darkened sky. Voices surrounded her, but she couldn’t find it in herself to focus on any of them. Her eyes drooped, exhaustion hitting her yet again. She only faintly heard Ainsley telling her to stay awake before she blacked out.

The first thing she noticed was the smell. It was sterile, and smelled like rubbing alcohol. Her nose scrunched up, she hated the smell of alcohol. Next, she heard beeping. A heart rate monitor perhaps? A tv was playing what sounded like Golden Girls off to the side. Elena didn’t have to open her eyes to know that she was in a hospital.

She finally opened her eyes, suppressing a groan when the lights all but blinded her. The room wasn’t bright by any means, in fact only a singular lamp by her bedside was on. But after having her eyes closed for so long, it felt like she was staring directly into the sun. Her eyes trailed around the room. It was empty, save for someone sitting in one of the two chairs watching the tv. It took her no time to figure out that it was her fiance. A small smile graced her face, relief setting in that they were both okay. Before either of them could say anything, the door opened.

“Oh, it’s good to see you’re awake Elena,” the doctor spoke as he stepped inside. That made both of their heads turn, but out of the corner of her eye she saw Malcolm look her way.

“I’m Dr. Leonard, I’m your primary doctor. How are you feeling?” The doctor questioned, walking over to her.

“Like I just got stabbed,” the girl responded without hesitation. That made Dr. Leonard chuckle and he shrugged.

“Fair enough. Luckily for you, it should heal quite soon. Your attacker didn’t puncture any major arteries, in fact the wound was rather shallow. It was just a minor blood vessel, but Miss Whitly was able to stop the blood flow with her jacket. If she waited any longer, I’m not sure you would have made it.” The very thought made a chill run up the girl’s spine, but she didn’t show it. Instead, she offered him a small smile.

“Yeah, she’s pretty great. Uh, don’t take any offense to this, but when can I leave? Hospitals aren’t really my thing.” The doctor offered her a patient smile.

“You’re free to go whenever you please, just make sure you take the painkillers I prescribed you and change your bandages every few hours. Then come back in a few weeks and we’ll see about removing the stitches.” He paused to look between her and Malcolm. “I’ll leave you two alone, just call a nurse if you need anything.” With one last goodbye, he left the room. As she watched him, Elena’s hand slowly trailed down her side, and she finally let out a groan when her fingers grazed over her now stitched up and bandaged wound. That immediately caught Malcolm’s attention, and he whipped around to face her.

“Hey, be careful,” he warned softly, walking over to her quickly. “They just redressed your wound, I doubt they’d be happy about you opening up your stitches.”

“Maybe I just want to be a rebel,” she joked with a playful smile. The man grinned then shook his head amusedly before sighing. .

“Elena, what were you thinking going there by yourself? You could have died if my mom and Ainsley hadn’t shown up.” The girl looked away, not wanting to see the disappointment in his eyes.

“I got a call,” she answered quietly.

“What?”

“I got a call,” she repeated. “I have no idea who the guy was, but he somehow got my number and threatened me. If I didn’t go to Matte Street at 7:00 then he would kill someone. It may be stupid in hindsight, but I couldn’t take that chance, not when someone’s life may have been on the line. Then he mentioned your sister when I met with him and I-”

“Ainsley?” Malcolm questioned curiously.

“He said she would have ransom money for him, but since I was there early he wanted to ‘leave her a gift.’ Your mom was with her, they’re the ones that found me.” Malcolm hummed thoughtfully, which made Elena’s brows furrow.

“What?”

“He’s called you, mom and Ainsley now. They’ve all been threats wanting something out of you guys,” he started. “He attacked you and made sure Ainsley and mom were the ones to find you. I think this guy is targeting the Whitly family.” Elena looked confused by his conclusion, so he continued. “I’m only saying that because we’re about to get married. You’re practically family anyways babe.” That made her blush, but she didn’t let herself dwell on it.

“Do you think it has something to do with your father?”

“Knowing my dad, probably,” he sighed. “I think I need to go talk to him.” The girl pursed her lips, then shrugged.

“Alright, just let me get dressed then we can go,” she responded, pulling back the covers and swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

“What? No,” Malcolm shook his head. “You’re not coming with me.”

“Says who?” Elena sassed, grabbing her clothes from her bedside table and beginning to change. Her fiance was quick to walk over to the door so he could block the window.

“Says me,” he answered, crossing his arms. “Elena, you were stabbed, it’s not safe for you to go anywhere.”

“Staying put gives him power over me Mal. I’m not about to just sit around while you try to find this bastard, I want to catch the guy that attacked me. Dr. Leonard said I was free to go whenever I pleased, and I’m going with or without you, the choice is yours.” As she finished talking, she got her shoes on and looked at him. The man sighed, then thought about his options. He ultimately nodded then helped her up.

“Let’s go.”

The ride to Claremont was surprisingly calming. Malcolm refused to let go of her hand, but Elena wasn’t really complaining. After that scare, both of them needed the other’s presence to ground themselves. When they arrived, they greeted the staff as usual then headed to Martin’s room, pausing when they noticed someone already in there talking to the man himself.

“Mom?” Malcolm questioned as they walked in. At the sound of his voice, both parents turned to face them.

“Malcolm?” Jessica questioned before her eyes landed on the girl beside him. “Elena, thank goodness you’re okay,” she said, sounding relieved as she walked over to the girl. The women embraced shortly before Elena grunted.

“Careful Jess,” she muttered, scrunching her eyes closed and letting out a deep breath. “The stitches are still a little sore.” The woman was quick to pull away, muttering an apology.

“It’s nice to see you back on your feet dear,” Martin said, clasping his hands in front of his stomach. “Jessica was just telling me about what happened. I’m sorry that this guy has gotten you mixed up in our family drama.” Elena shrugged, resting her hands in her pockets.

“Eh, I might as well be family. I think this solidified it,” she brushed off. Malcolm grinned at her, but it dropped when he faced his mother once more.

“What are you doing here mom?” He questioned curiously. Jessica hesitated, eyes falling to the floor.

“I got another call,” she answered quietly. “From that same guy. He sent me here to...to murder Martin.” Elena gasped softly, but she didn’t pay any mind to it. “He has another hostage, and he said that he would spare them if I did this.”

“Jessica you should have told someone,” Elena scolded.

“I don’t even know if I can do it,” the woman exclaimed. “I came here thinking that I could, but I don’t think I can. Someone may die though.”

“You don’t have to be the one to do it,” Martin mentioned, which made the others look at him. “I mean, there are two new people now. I’m sure one of them is capable.”

“Martin, do you know how crazy you sound?” Jessica questioned.

“Do you understand how crazy any of this sounds?” The man shot back. “Someone’s trying to kill us and wants us to kill each other. Well, I guess just me, actually.” Elena shook her head at them then sighed.

“There has to be something we can do,” she muttered thoughtfully.

“There is,” Martin responded before facing his son and holding up the knife that Jessica previously held. “Malcolm, stab me.”

“What?” Jessica cried out.

“He knows what to do, I showed him when he was a kid,” Martin responded simply before narrowing his eyes at his son. “Malcolm, NOW!” At his father’s rather sudden shout, it looked as if Malcolm seemingly shut down. His shoulders dropped and his eyes all but glazed over in a daze. Wordlessly, he grabbed the knife from his father’s hand and, ignoring his mother’s cry, he stabbed Martin in the chest. Elena could only stare at the scene with wide eyes and jaw dropped. It was only when Martin dropped to the floor that she finally came back to her senses, and she jumped into action.

“Jessica, go get David and tell him to call an ambulance,” she demanded, which made the woman nod before running out. Once the door closed behind her, Elena faced Malcolm.

“Mal, honey, can you hear me?” She asked gently. For a moment, Malcolm just stared at his father with inexpressive eyes, but he finally nodded after she pressed a gentle hand against his cheek.

“Okay, good. Now, I need you to drop the knife please. Can you do that for me?” His eyes landed on her and he nodded yet again. Elena took the knife from him and set it aside.

“I know who the killer is,” were the first words he said to her. “Come on.” He gave her no time to respond before he grabbed her hand and ran out of the room. She couldn’t form any words as she followed him out to the car. It stayed that way as they tracked down and intercepted the killer, who ended up being the husband of a patient who died on Martin Whitly’s table when he was still a surgeon.

When the case was closed, Malcolm and Elena went home. Malcolm was the one to drive as it hurt Elena to move so much after getting stitches. They were too tired to make or eat dinner, so they just got ready for bed.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Malcolm muttered quietly as they laid in bed. The girl didn’t answer at first, but she knew that nothing was ever solved by staying silent.

“A lot has happened over the last few days,” she started in the same tone. “When I got stabbed, I genuinely didn’t know if I was going to make it. Then to find out that he was targeting your entire family? I felt lost. When you stabbed your father, it felt like I was the one being stabbed again. At first it scared me that you could do it without question, but then I realized that your father probably conditioned you to do things when he used a certain tone and it’s just-” she cut herself off with a sigh. “My brain is all over the place and I don’t know what to do.” Malcolm didn’t say anything for a few minutes, and it wasn’t until Elena looked at him that he actually responded.

“What if we took a day or two off,” he suggested, which made her raise an eyebrow incredulously at him.

“You want to take off of work? Willingly?” The surprise in her tone made him roll his eyes playfully.

“Usually I would hate to do that, but you’re very clearly not well. I’m staying with you until you’re healed physically and emotionally, even if that means not getting cases,” he said with finality. That made the girl grin, and she cuddled closer to him.

“I can’t say that that doesn’t sound nice,” she muttered. Malcolm’s chest rumbled when he chuckled and he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

“Just get some sleep. I’ll talk to Gil tomorrow,” he instructed softly. Elena didn’t need to be told twice, and she fell asleep wrapped in her love’s arms.

#prodigal son #prodigal son imagine #malcolm bright #malcolm bright imagine #malcolm bright x oc