cramping up - malachi barton
malachi barton x fem!bsf!reader
warnings: heavy flirting, suggestive jokes/adult humor, accidental touching, sexual tension/innuendo, teasing/banter, almost kissing/interrupted kisses, friends being ridiculous
“malachi. don’t be a baby.”
“i can’t believe you’re doing this without your glasses.”
“hey, you wanted to do this right now. i told you to wait until we get to my room.” you shrugged, eyes squinting as you tried to see better.
“…i didn’t wanna wait.” his lips pressed into a thin line, suppressing a chuckle.
you sighed, rolling your eyes playfully as your hand came up to hold his jaw, turning his face to the side.
“you know what? i can’t do this sitting up. lay down on the couch for me.”
he obeyed without argument, a small smirk on his face as he settled onto his back, hands lifting to rest under his neck, fingers interwoven.
because of that, his hoodie rode up, his abdomen on full display — along with the edge of his black calvin klein underwear, his pants sitting dangerously low.
you stood up, eyes flicking to his lower stomach out of pure reflex.
“babe?” he grinned, winking. “my eyes are up here.”
“whatever.” you bent over him, hovering, still trying to touch him as little as possible. your hand found its way back to his jaw, thumb resting against his cheekbone.
for someone who had to kiss her best friend on screen, you sure as hell left more than enough space between you, making sure not to let any part of your body touch him — except your hands on his face.
even though you couldn’t see well at this distance, you tried your best to get his eyebrows perfect.
eventually, the front of your lower leg bumped against the edge of the couch as you tried to get more comfortable.
but when you shifted upright, leaning your weight onto your other leg and adjusting your hair — which refused to stop poking your eye — malachi took the opportunity.
quickly, he moved your bent leg over the other side of him, grabbing your hips and pulling you down onto his lap.
you gasped, letting out a small squeal as your hands flew forward to brace yourself against his torso.
“malachi!” you playfully hit his chest, his boyish grin instantly appearing in response.
“what?” he said innocently, smirk betraying him. “i just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable. can’t have you cramping up.”
you shook your head in disbelief, leaning forward in his lap to get back to work.
his smirk never faltered.
one hand slid up your back, guiding you closer to his face. “that’s much better.”
you glared at him, ignoring his teasing. at one point, you leaned closer — faces inches apart, noses nearly touching — something you didn’t even notice, too focused on plucking stray hairs.
“hmm,” he murmured. “i quite like having you this close.”
that snapped you out of it. your eyes met his.
“maybe you should sit on my lap like this more often, huh?”
he smiled, teeth showing — your favorite — and that was when your nonchalant act finally cracked.
you laughed nervously, trying not to show just how much his stupid smile got to you.
“do you want me to do your eyebrows or not?”
he caught your wrists, stopping your hands.
you watched as he sat up with you still on his lap, automatically straightening with him. then he reached behind his neck, tugged his hoodie over his head, and tossed it somewhere onto the floor.
now he was basically half-naked in front of you.
obviously, he had a reason — but it still made your stomach twist.
he’d been shirtless around you a thousand times before. but the proximity, the position you were in… it made it hard to think.
you stayed still while he leaned back again, hands settling on your waist, fingers playing with the belt loops at the back of your jeans, openly checking you out with zero shame.
before you could ask why he’d taken off his hoodie, he beat you to it.
you loved the view. loved abs in general — something about muscles just did things to you. strong men were your weakness.
but you’d never tell him that.
he was your best friend. no way in hell you were giving him that satisfaction.
“ha-ha. you’re not funny, champ.”
“i’m just sayin’—” he shrugged, grin reappearing. “take a picture. it’ll last longer.”
he winked, hooking a finger into the belt loop at the front of your jeans and tugging you forward, forcing you to lean closer.
“now c’mon,” he added. “i’m not trying to be late to set again. deric would actually kill us.”
that snapped you back to reality. you felt his hands slide under your hoodie, the cool touch against your skin oddly calming.
your trailer fell quiet for once.
aside from the occasional “ow!” from malachi whenever you plucked a sensitive hair while tilting your head, focused.
without realizing it, you leaned closer every time you pulled back to flip your hair away, the distance between your faces shrinking bit by bit.
eventually, you sighed loudly, whipping your head to the side so fast your neck almost cracked, fed up with your hair.
malachi noticed instantly.
he reached up, gently gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail.
it was sweet. unexpected. but sweet.
he winked, his other hand still running up and down your back, occasionally brushing your bra hook.
“can’t have you mess up my eyebrows.”
“you’re on something today,” you narrowed your eyes at him, still plucking hairs like you had been for the past fifteen minutes.
this boy could not stop flirting with you.
it used to be harmless — he flirted with everyone for fun.
but now? it was different. like he forgot anyone else existed.
all his attention landed on you.
“i’m done,” you said eventually, pulling back just enough to put some desperately needed space between you. “you wanna look?”
“i will,” he replied easily. “but i cramped up a while ago. so now we switch places.”
before you could react, he let go of your hair and flipped you both on the couch.
suddenly, you were on your back — malachi hovering over you, body between your legs, your knees hooked around his waist as he held himself up on his arms, caging you in.
“much better,” he said. “i prefer being on top. makes me feel more… in control.”
“funny,” you chuckled. “judging by how you act with me, i thought you’d prefer being bottom.”
he froze for half a second — completely unprepared — before letting out a low laugh that absolutely wrecked your composure.
“oh,” he murmured. “so that’s how we’re playing today?”
his voice dropped just enough to make your brain short-circuit.
“get off,” you said, rolling your eyes. “i need to fix my hair before set.”
instead, he dipped his head just enough for his breath to brush your cheek. not touching. not kissing. just there.
“say what?” your voice came out softer than intended.
“that i’d be a better bottom.”
you shoved his shoulder, laughing to hide how fast your heart was racing.
“malachi barton, i swear—”
he caught your wrist gently. not pinning you. just holding it. his thumb warm against your skin.
“you know i’m joking, right?” he asked quietly — like it mattered.
“obviously,” you replied, just as soft, unable to look away.
for one second — just one — the air between you snapped tight. like if he leaned down even an inch, you’d kiss him for real.
no cameras. no director. no excuses.
your hand slid to his chest without thinking.
“guys?” maya’s voice echoed through the door. “deric says if you’re making out again and we’re late, i’m telling everyone it was your idea.”
malachi groaned, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder.
“we weren’t— oh my god,” he muttered, laughing into your hoodie.
you pushed at him, cheeks burning. “get off. we have to go.”
he finally stood, offering his hand to pull you up.
he didn’t let go right away. obviously.
his thumb brushed your knuckles once before he released you.
“c’mon,” he said, grabbing his hoodie off the floor. “if we get yelled at again, at least we’ll suffer together.”
you rolled your eyes — but smiled anyway — following him out the door.
still one tiny push away from everything changing.
and neither of you had a clue.
by 6:00 pm sharp, the lot was already buzzing.
big lights warming up. crew yelling across the soundstage. someone wheeling a cart of coffees that absolutely nobody trusted anymore. night shoots always felt different — louder somehow, but also weirdly intimate, like everyone was trapped in the same sleepless bubble together.
you stepped out of your trailer with malachi beside you, hoodie back on, hair still a mess from earlier. he bumped his shoulder into yours lightly as you walked.
“barely,” you replied. “if i pass out mid-scene, drag me off-camera.”
“nah,” he smirked. “i’ll let it happen. adds realism.”
you snorted just as caleb spotted you from across the stage.
“oh my god,” he groaned dramatically. “they’re together again. this is how horror movies start.”
maya appeared next to him, coffee in hand. “give it ten minutes. they’ll be sitting too close and pretending it’s normal.”
you opened your mouth to defend yourself — then realized malachi’s arm had casually draped itself around your shoulders at some point.
“it is normal,” you said anyway, not moving away.
malachi looked down at you, amused. “see? she agrees.”
ella walked past, glanced at you both, then kept going. “i’m not even gonna comment,” she muttered. “it’s too easy.”
hailee, ever the instigator, stopped dead in her tracks and turned back. “wait. did i miss something?”
“no,” you and malachi said at the exact same time.
she smiled. slowly. knowingly. “right.”
rehearsal started soon after — blocking the big emotional scene that was scheduled for just before midnight. you were supposed to be focused, serious, locked in.
except malachi kept standing just a little too close during notes. leaning in when the director talked. brushing his fingers against yours when you shifted positions. once, when you forgot a line and muttered it under your breath, he leaned over and whispered it into your ear instead.
you didn’t need the help.
“chi,” you murmured without looking at him, “you’re being annoying.”
“i’m being supportive,” he whispered back.
“you’re breathing on my neck.”
“emotional support breathing.”
you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.
during a break, the whole cast gathered around the snack table like moths to a flame. dylan was poking at something unidentifiable in a plastic container.
“whoever labeled this ‘pasta,’” he said, “is a liar.”
malachi leaned back against the counter beside you. “still better than craft services on that last project.”
you reached for a water bottle — and malachi reached at the same time. your fingers brushed.
not dramatic. not accidental enough to ignore.
he raised an eyebrow. “you can have it.”
“no,” you said, taking it anyway. “i won.”
his lips twitched. “wow. aggressive tonight.”
“maybe i’m just matching your energy.”
his grin shifted — slower now, softer. “dangerous.”
“is it?” you shot back, quiet enough that only he heard.
for half a second, he didn’t joke. didn’t tease. just looked at you like he was recalculating something.
then caleb cleared his throat loudly. “okay, so i am the third wheel here, right?”
you stepped away instantly, heat crawling up your neck. malachi laughed it off, like always.
but this time, your heart didn’t settle.
takes blurred together. lights burned hot. everyone was tired but locked in, adrenaline doing the heavy lifting. between takes, malachi sat beside you on the floor, legs stretched out, your knees brushing.
“you good?” he asked quietly.
“yeah,” you said. then, after a beat, “you?”
he shrugged. “better when you’re not avoiding me.”
he tilted his head, just slightly. not accusing. just honest.
you exhaled. “…okay, maybe a little.”
you shrugged this time. “because when i don’t, things get weird.”
he hummed. “they’re already weird.”
you laughed softly. “fair.”
at around 3:30 am, when everyone was running on fumes, hailee started a debate about which fictional couples were overrated. it got loud. chaotic. opinions were thrown.
malachi leaned down, voice low. “you know who isn’t overrated?”
you scoffed. “we’re not a couple.”
“didn’t say we were,” he said easily. “just said we’re not overrated.”
you glanced at him. “you’re impossible.”
“and yet,” he murmured, “you keep sitting next to me.”
by 5:00 am, the final scene wrapped. applause broke out. crew cheered. someone yelled “SURVIVED!” like it was a war zone.
you grabbed your bag, exhausted, ready to collapse for a week straight.
malachi walked you back toward the trailers, quiet now.
before you split off, he stopped.
he hesitated — just barely. “thanks for… today. for flirting back. a little.”
your chest tightened. “you noticed.”
“i notice everything with you,” he said, then winced. “that sounded intense.”
you smiled, soft and tired. “it was.”
still dancing on the edge of something neither of you were brave enough to name.
night shoots always ended like this.
and feelings that refused to clock out.
malachibartonsangel speaks!
hey guys, i'm back againnn ;))
also, can y'all tell i like friends to lovers??😭
i literally wrote so many imagines like i'm not kidding my notes app has 147+ different notes filled with one-shots and requests and all of that.
also, i'm sick so if there are any spelling mistakes i didn't see, i apologize.
be prepared for a spam because i will post a few if those imagines soon!
my bae @malachisbigtoe has the flu aswell, and we facetimed while writing multiple fics individually. i must say it was fun but also rlly exhausting cuz we were both tired asf. but dw twin we'll get through this together ;/
anyway, requests are always open!!
feel free to request anything, no matter how long, short or specific!
thank you for reading, i hope you liked it!
