#under wraps

[robertpallesen]

Street Scene, Portland, OR © Robert Pallesen

[lucy-literates]

HI I SUPER LOVE YOUR WORK

Can you PLEASE do something like the reader and Malachi along with the rest of the ZOMBIES cast having a pool day? (It can be for whatever reason) BUT reader and Malachi are just all lovey dovey with each other like Malachi carrying reader in the pool with her legs wrapped around his waist and maybe a little make out sesh or just kisses if you’re uncomfortable(?) overall just them being all out on the physical touch

PLEASE THANK YOU🫶🙏

A/N: Ohhhh thank you so much!! I really hope you enjoy this one!! Send in anymore requests if you have them :)

You, Me & Chlorine

The ZOMBIES 4 cast didn’t get many days off, so when one finally landed mid-week with no press, no fittings, and no choreography, Milo declared a mandatory pool day. Meg found a cute AirBnB with a rooftop pool, and within the hour, everyone was piling into cars with coolers, towels, and way too much sunscreen.

Malachi arrived last, hand-in-hand with you, both in matching black swimwear that definitely wasn't planned but absolutely made a statement. Chandler noticed first.

“Did you two coordinate?” he called from the shallow end.

“No,” Malachi said innocently, “but we do look good.”

You laughed and squeezed his hand tighter.

Later, music thumped from a waterproof speaker, the cast lounged on floaties or splashed around, and the sky was that perfect shade of blue that felt like a reward.

Malachi, already soaked, swam up to where you were sitting on the ledge of the pool with your legs in the water.

“C’mon,” he said, reaching out with open arms, “get in.”

“It’s cold,” you protested.

“I’ll warm you up.”

Before you could argue, he’d tugged gently at your hands, making you slide into the pool with a shriek — and right into his arms.

You clung to him instinctively, legs wrapping around his waist, arms locking around his shoulders. He laughed, holding you easily, both of you sinking just enough for the water to rise around your chests.

“See?” he murmured. “Warm.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “You did plan this.”

“Obviously.” He kissed the tip of your nose, then your cheek, then your lips. Soft, unhurried, like there wasn’t anyone else around.

Spoiler: there was.

“Oh my god,” Meg groaned from her floaty nearby. “Do we need a chaperone for these two?”

“They’re gonna break the no-PDA clause,” Milo teased.

Chandler was already narrating in a fake documentary voice. “And here we observe Malachi Barton in his natural habitat — carrying his girlfriend around like a koala.”

You giggled but didn’t move an inch. “You’re just jealous.”

“Of being a koala?” Milo shot back.

Malachi leaned in, pressing another kiss to your jaw. “They’ll get over it.”

You tucked your face into his neck, smiling against his skin as he held you tighter.

You didn’t care that everyone was watching. Because in that moment — sun on your back, his hands steady on your waist, his lips on yours — the rest of the world melted away like poolside ice cream.

------

You didn’t realize how sunburnt you were until the drive home.

The back of your thighs stung against the leather seat. Your shoulders felt tight, hot, like they were still under the sun. And when you winced trying to reach behind you for the seatbelt, Malachi glanced over with a knowing look.

“Uh-oh,” he said. “That’s the face of someone who said, ‘I don’t burn, I tan.’”

“I usually do!”

“You also skipped the second sunscreen reapply.”

You pouted. “You were distracting me.”

“I offered to do your back.”

“You got distracted too!”

He smirked, not even denying it.

Back at the apartment, you peeled off your shirt with a hiss, and Malachi, now shirtless himself, stood behind you in the bathroom mirror.

“Damn,” he whispered, genuinely sympathetic. “You’re cooked.”

You let out a groan and dropped your forehead onto his chest. “I’m gonna die.”

“You are not gonna die. But you are gonna smell like aloe for the next 48 hours.”

He disappeared for a second and returned with a cold bottle straight from the fridge.

“Okay, ready?”

“No— ow!” you yelped as the first dab of aloe hit your shoulder. “Cold cold cold—!”

He laughed, hands gentle as he rubbed it in with featherlight touches.

“Stop moving,” he said. “I can’t heal you if you’re doing the Macarena.”

You stood mostly still, grumbling, while he worked his magic — soothing touches, soft murmurs, the occasional kiss to your temple or down your spine when he passed by.

When he was done, he spun you around carefully, his hands on your hips, thumbs brushing soft circles into your skin.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’ll survive. Thanks, nurse Barton.”

He grinned. “Want your reward now?”

“What reward?”

He scooped you up bridal style without warning and carried you to the couch.

“This,” he said, dropping down with you curled in his lap. He tugged a blanket over your legs and tucked your head into his shoulder. “Cuddle treatment.”

You melted into him instantly.

“Do you think the others got burnt too?”

“Meg texted the group chat a pic of Milo’s bright red nose,” Malachi said, snorting. “You’re not alone.”

You giggled and curled deeper into him, your arms circling his waist. His fingers skimmed up and down your back, careful to avoid the sunburn, but still close enough that you could feel the tenderness in every stroke.

“You were really cute today,” he murmured.

“You were clingy.”

“You liked it.”

You smiled against his skin. “Yeah. I did.”

He tilted your chin and kissed you slowly — the kind of kiss that said you’re mine, even after the sun goes down.

You sighed contentedly and closed your eyes.

Burnt? Maybe. Blissfully in love with your overly affectionate co-star boyfriend? Absolutely.

Tag List:

@laylayschipzz

@purplerose291

@imnotnotgabrielle

@imnotjadaddy

@23swife

@mysticmarble222

@saphiraelise

@coffeeonvenus 

@casey1-2007

Lucy-Literates tag list

This is my tag list for anyone who wants to be tagged in certain fics Please include “@“ before your username 🫶🏻 Formula 1 Arthur Leclerc @

[div1nedoll]

“.The pizza debate.”

Pairing: Malachi Barton x Fem!Reader

synopsis: You and the Z4 cast have a dorm pizza party and Malachi starts ranting about his never ending love for pizza until he starts debating about what toppings go best on pizza.

Point of view: Second-Person ( “. He saw you .” )

Warnings: Fluff, humor, nothing really:)

You sank into the stiff hotel chair, legs heavy after a long day. The kind of day where your cheeks ached from smiling and your voice was hoarse from talking. The kind of day that made you wonder how actors ever got used to the blinding crowds and the endless pressure.

MK and Chandler were sprawled across the couch like they’d melted into it. Freya had claimed the bean bag, lazily tossing a stress ball back and forth with Sway, who sat cross-legged at Chandler’s feet. And then there was Malachi.

The Malachi you’d known since Under Wraps. The Malachi who could talk about cars for hours like it was his first language. The Malachi who always made time just to read The Bible. The Malachi who never stopped moving, who once dragged you out to surf at dawn.

Your Malachi. Or atleast , the version of him you secretly hoped was yours.

“ I’m feeling some sushi “ MK mumbled, eyes glued at the TV.

You smirked to yourself. Here it comes. Malachi’s gonna say pizza.

Sure enough, before Freya could open her mouth, he shot up straighter.

“ I want pizza! “

the timing was so perfect you couldn’t help but laugh. Freya, Sway, and you exchanged knowing looks like the punchline of an inside joke had just landed.

“ Obviously you do, Malachi. “ Chandler teased.

Everyone laughed, especially you because you knew about his not-so-secret admiration for pizza. He always had a bubbly inner-child.

“ What?! If I ask ( Y/N ) you’ll see she agreees! “ He said, him breaking character a little by giggling mid-sentence.

You threw your hands up in surrender. “Don’t bring me into this, Malachi!”

He looked at you with such betrayal! Like you’ve done the worst thing ever.

“How could you not want pizza?!” he demanded. “It’s the most wonderful food ever. You can put anything on it. Pineapple? Add it. Apples? Add it. More cheese? Load it up! But my favorite has to be margherita! “

He looked at you like no one else existed. His eyes were full of brightness and happiness, like no one could ever steal that from him.

“ Okay since Malachi has this undying love for pizza, I guess we can order some! “ MK said.

——————————————————————————

guys can we all just interlock toes and be friends❤️

——————————————————————————

The knock on the door came twenty minutes later, and Chandler practically sprinted to pay the delivery guy. The smell of melted cheese and dough filled the room, and Malachi’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Behold!” he yelled, holding up the box like Simba in The Lion King.

“Sit down before you drop it,” Freya muttered, already stealing a slice the second he opened the lid.

Everyone grabbed food, the hotel room turning into a mess of chewing and laughing over dumb inside jokes. Malachi wouldn’t shut up about how stuffed crust was “evil” and “basically a war crime.” He was gesturing so much with his slice you thought he might throw it across the room.

At some point you caught yourself just… watching him. His curls were a little messy, his eyes too bright for someone who should’ve been dead tired. He caught you staring and smirked.

You scoffed, taking a bite of your slice. “Relax, Barton. It’s literally just bread and cheese.”

“JUST BREAD AND CHEESE?!” He gasped so loud MK threw a napkin at him. “Wow. Can’t believe this betrayal.”

The night dragged on until everyone started passing out. MK’s phone slipped out of his hand mid-scroll, Freya curled up on the bean bag, and Sway started sleeping with her head on Chandler’s leg.

You were about to call it when Malachi dropped into the chair beside yours, still holding half a slice like he wasn’t full yet. He leaned back, eyes half-closed but still playful.

“Hey,” he said softer. “Thanks for laughing at my dumb rant. You always do.” He smiled.

“Which one?” You chuckled.

“Fair” He said, fighting a laugh.

he room was dim now, the TV muted except for the faint hum of commercials. Everyone else was knocked out, and the weight of the day finally started pulling at your eyelids. You shifted in the chair, trying to get comfortable, but somehow your head tipped against his shoulder.

Malachi put his arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer to him, as you belong there. His breathing growing quieter and quieter.

The last thing you registered before sleep pulled you under was the steady beat of his laugh still caught in his chest, right beneath your cheek.

“I love you, ( Y/N ). “

[jackchampioncumpit]

Malachi Barton

via Instagram stories

[blusool]

Catty: Under Wraps - Katsuki Bakugo

part 1 | part 3

Maybe it had been a week or two? Katsuki couldn’t remember too well. Going through his day, only a ghost of himself, his usual crabby personality sharp enough to cut through even the thickest-skinned idiots around him. No one could have guessed why, not Deku. Or even Kirishima, who for the first time in a long, long while found himself walking on eggshells around the explosive boy. Kirishima couldn’t know for sure what went down for Katsuki’s usual ill temper to become even worse, like a bubbling pot of the most vicious acid, burning through the very vessel that usually held it together.

Katsuki’s usual catty behaviour bled into what seemed like a rabid, unadulterated rage. Every breath he took seemed only to fuel the raging fire that burned in his chest. Maybe, he preferred it that way. He knew he deserved it, for the fire in his chest to consume him whole. When she looked away from him, he lashed out at Deku without thinking—subconsciously seeking out her reaction in the midst of his anger. Each time, he met her round eyes, glassy and polished, devoid of any life. They were like a dead horizon—no light, no warmth, just the stillness before something breaks.

But Katsuki knew her just as well as she knew him. She was upset; that was an understatement to the storm of emotions she felt, but he knew. Her chest burned with something she couldn’t name fast enough—anger, maybe. No, hurt. No, all of it, stirring together. Her hands curled so tight her nails bit into her palms, and even that wasn’t enough to ground her. Her jaw ached from clenching too hard, teeth grinding like they were trying to chew through the words she couldn’t spit out without screaming. Her eyes shimmered, not with softness but with heat, wet with the betrayal of tears she refused to let fall. Every breath was sharp, too sharp, like breathing knives. She wasn’t just angry. She wasn’t just upset. She was wrecked—a storm clawing to get out of her skin.

Katsuki knew he ruined something precious when he walked out that door and stayed away for days, waiting until he deemed it safe to return, just to avoid facing her. He knew he could talk to her; he should. But no words were right. Katsuki wasn’t one for emotions or conversations. Usually, he left it to her to read him, like the mind reader he teased her to be. She unraveled him, one page at a time, as if he were her favorite book—one she held close to her chest, tracing the spine with her delicate, manicured nails, smoothing out the crushed pages to savor every moment.

They weren’t anything. Nothing that Katsuki had a name for. A friend, if he dared to label it. But clearly, friends didn’t sleep together, not just stopping at that, he got her pregnant for fuck’s sake. He screwed up royally.

He remembers that night vividly, their first night at the UA dorms. Shaken up from Katsuki’s kidnapping, she found herself outside his dorm. Knuckles hovering over the heavy wooden door with hesitance, he could have sensed her miles away on her. Just her shadow blocking the little light leak under the door was enough to earn a sharp growl, thick with impatience, as he stomped over, pulled the door open.

She looked beautiful, something he wouldn’t notice until much later that night. Seeing her in those god awful cutesy pajamas, only a single thought crossed his mind,

‘Tch. Am I even surprised? Of course you’d show up lookin’ like that.’

The intimacy of seeing her like that—in her pajamas, her hair let down, reading glasses perched on her nose—was not lost on him. She seemed out of place as she stepped into his room, taking in his little haven he had refused to let any of their classmates see. The room was a shrine to his favorite pro-hero, with dark sheets and blackout curtains—everything undeniably his style. Her clothes felt too bright for the darkness. Sensing her discomfort, Katsuki quickly pulled out a chair for her at his desk, then sank onto his bed to put her at ease.

“Don’t get too comfy.  Wide-eyed idiot. What d’you need?”

He didn’t know why he let her in, or even noticed the tension in her shoulder, like the world wore her down. Was she easy to read, or was it the countless school lunches they shared, sitting across from each other, but he was in tune with her body language. Even as she sat there in his chair, her shoulders curled, head slung down, busy picking on the skin around her nails like she would rather his room’s darkness swallow her whole than open her mouth and speak.

“The-... I’m glad you’re back here safe. Not that I was worried!- I was..but not cause I didn’t think you’re strong enough”

Her words spilled, like she had held onto the time for all of the time he spent in the hands of the villains. Uncontrolled, rampant, and hurried. In the way she felt the need to sit on her hands to keep them from flying everything. Perhaps it was the fear, the fear of losing him again, the fear of his kidnapping, or even the fear of running out of time; it didn’t matter in that moment. All that mattered was that her friend was here, safe and sound.

“Oi, quit talkin’ like I was gonna die or somethin’. I told you I’m not some weak damn extra.”

Katsuki broke her train of thought, crashing through it, ramming straight into its side, much like his actions. He couldn’t reason it, nor make excuses. But he was up on his feet, grabbing her hand, pulling her into his chest. Holding her rigid body against his to let her cry into the safety of his body, shielding her from the world. Maybe he needed it more than she did that day. Her arms around him, hands curled into his shirt, grounding him. It was over. And for once, he felt that. He believed it. He was safe and sound. When he did pull away, his arms dropped to his side awkwardly, nudging her head away gently.

“Oi… enough with the waterworks, Bambi. I’m here, ain’t I? I’m the greatest damn hero? I wasn’t goin’ anywhere.”

Watching her crack a smile eased his vulnerable heart, fire giving way to something softer, something terrifyingly calm. He couldn’t understand why, but he didn’t ponder too long, letting her climb into his bed, steal his pillow. Plopping beside her, he allowed her to talk his ear off that night. Unknowingly bared his heart open for her that night. Just to fill the eerie, unnerving silence, he said to himself, letting her ramble fill the air, stitching them a blanket with her words alone, weighing down on their fears and worries. Just this once.  

Taglist open! And feel free to send asks for our characters katsuki and bambi to get to know them. Thank you for showing all your support and interest so far! Love you guys. Stay hydrated!

Taglist: @misticsilver, @katsukispubies, @cuntpiercedprincess, @katsuboooom @memememia @amberr0ckz @iheartpartyy @m00nl1gh4 @hdhdjdhdjx

[newbuddylove]

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

Malachi Barton masterlist nav. megalist

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️fluff▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

something about… car stuff?

Malachi loves ranting about cars and y/n(she/her) loves listening to him, even tho she understands close to nothing

"...you’re gorgeous. every part of you..."

Malachi defends chubby!y/n(she/her) from mean fans

"i pray over all of them..."

Malachi and the other members from the Worlds Collide Tour find out his girlfriend, y/n(she/her), prays over them and he folds for her even more

MK who?

Malachi finds out y/n(she/her) has been playing his favorite video game with his best friend behind his back (and he's being a drama queen about it)

uh… what are you wearing right now?

y/n(she/her) pranks Malachi by wearing a very short dress

they don’t get to look at you like that

the whole cast is hanging out at the park but Malachi is more focused on making sure y/n(she/her)'s skirt isn't showing anything it shouldn't to the group of guys across the street

[freyaheels]