malachibartonsangel

about me:

my name is angel, feel free to call me whatever you want though!!

i'm 18 years old!

my fav color is pink if you couldn't tell already xx

english is not my first language!!

i'm in a lot of fandoms, and am open to writing for them if requested! or if i get an idea myself.

if you don't know whether or not i'm in a fandom and want to request something, just tell me who it is about, aswell as the request.

i'm like 90% sure i will know what you are talking about and will fulfill your request to the best of my abilities!

requests are always open, aswell as my inbox!

all the dividers i use are made by the lovely @chrisssiren <33

if you decide to use her dividers aswell, please make sure to give her credits!

most recent work

most liked by readers

masterlists:

malachi barton

mekonnen knife ...coming soon

christopher sturniolo ...coming soon

matthew sturniolo ...coming soon

louis patridge ...coming soon

caleb mclaughlin ...coming soon

finn wolfhard ...coming soon

more to see soon!!

malachi barton x fem!bsf!reader

requested: no

warnings: fluff, teasing, cast chaos, thirst tweets, internet shenanigans, two idiots pretending they’re normal about each other

summary: the slap scene airs. the behind-the-scenes clip goes viral. the cast reads thirst tweets. somehow, things get worse.

malachi barton masterlist

a week after the episode airs, the cast is sitting in a small studio for another promotional segment.

there are two couches, a low table in the middle, and a suspiciously large stack of printed tweets sitting in front of jaeden.

you notice that immediately.

“…that’s too many,” you say.

jaeden grins. “this is the internet. they had opinions.”

jack leans forward, excited. “oh this is gonna be good.”

riele nudges you lightly with her shoulder. “relax. maybe they’re nice.”

marsai raises an eyebrow. “have you met the internet?”

a producer behind the camera claps once.

“alright guys—this is the pulse below cast reads thirst tweets.”

malachi immediately groans.

“i regret agreeing to this.”

you glance at him. “too late.”

the camera light flicks on.

jaeden grabs the first card from the pile.

he reads it silently.

then he smiles.

“…oh this is already chaotic.”

“read it,” jack says.

jaeden clears his throat.

“‘kai being smug for absolutely no reason every episode is my favorite genre of television.’”

everyone turns toward malachi.

he looks offended.

“there’s always a reason.”

marsai crosses her arms. “name one.”

malachi pauses.

“…confidence.”

jack nods. “that’s not a reason, that’s a personality flaw.”

everyone laughs.

jaeden grabs another card.

“okay next one.”

he reads it.

“‘whoever decided to cast this group together deserves a raise because the chemistry is ridiculous.’”

riele smiles. “that’s actually sweet.”

“finally,” you say. “a normal tweet.”

jaeden flips another card.

“…never mind.”

“what,” you say immediately.

he reads:

“‘jack’s character looks like he’d start a fight in a parking lot and then apologize halfway through.’”

jack looks deeply offended.

“that’s wildly inaccurate.”

asher leans over from the other couch. “you would absolutely apologize.”

“i would not.”

“you absolutely would,” riele says.

jack sighs. “maybe once.”

jaeden picks another tweet.

“okay this one’s about the show.”

he reads:

“‘the tension in episode three?? the writers need to chill because my heart cannot handle this.’”

marsai nods seriously. “that episode stressed me out.”

“same,” you say. “i had to watch it with snacks.”

malachi glances at you. “you had snacks for every episode.”

“that’s not the point.”

jaeden grabs another card.

his eyebrows go up.

“…speaking of episode three.”

you immediately feel suspicious.

“jaeden.”

he ignores you.

“‘not malachi smirking after getting slapped like he just discovered something about himself.’”

the entire room bursts into laughter.

you drop your head back against the couch.

“oh my god.”

jack points at malachi. “THE SMIRK.”

“kai smirked,” malachi says immediately.

jaeden flips the card over.

“wait there’s more.”

you groan louder.

“‘that was not the face of a man who disliked being slapped.’”

riele laughs so hard she leans on marsai.

“they’re analyzing you.”

malachi shakes his head. “this is slander.”

you point at him. “this is your fault.”

“you’re the one who slapped me.”

“IT WAS IN THE SCRIPT.”

jaeden grabs another tweet.

“okay moving on.”

he reads.

“‘riele and marsai’s characters arguing like sisters is the best part of the show.’”

marsai nods approvingly. “that’s valid.”

riele grins. “we do argue a lot.”

jack adds, “off camera too.”

riele throws a pillow at him.

jaeden laughs and picks another card.

“…oh this one’s about you.”

he points at you.

you immediately regret sitting here.

“what does it say.”

he reads:

“‘the way she delivers sarcastic lines is lethal. someone give her a trophy.’”

you blink.

“…okay i like this tweet.”

malachi nods. “accurate.”

“thank you.”

jaeden flips another card.

“…and we’re back.”

“back to what?” you ask carefully.

he reads:

“‘the behind the scenes clip where she panics after slapping him is the cutest thing i’ve ever seen.’”

jack immediately leans forward.

“OH.”

you bury your face in your hands.

“why did they include that clip.”

marsai laughs. “you did look panicked.”

“because i thought i hurt him!”

malachi shrugs casually. “i survived.”

jaeden grabs another tweet.

“oh wow.”

he starts laughing again.

“‘the way she grabbed his face like she was about to perform medical treatment.’”

riele claps once. “that’s exactly what it looked like.”

you look up.

“i was checking if he was okay!”

jack nods. “very thorough examination.”

malachi leans toward you slightly.

“five stars. excellent care.”

you shove his shoulder.

“stop talking.”

jaeden holds up another tweet.

“okay wait this one is insane.”

he reads it dramatically.

“‘i refuse to believe they’re just acting because the tension between them is illegal.’”

the entire couch slowly turns toward you and malachi.

jack whistles.

“illegal tension.”

marsai points between you. “apparently.”

you stare straight ahead.

“i hate the internet.”

malachi looks way too amused.

jaeden squints at the card again.

“oh there’s a second line.”

he reads:

“‘someone get them a lie detector test immediately.’”

jack nods enthusiastically. “great idea.”

riele raises her hand. “i support that.”

you groan.

malachi leans back comfortably.

“i’d pass.”

you look at him.

“you absolutely would not.”

he grins.

jaeden grabs the last tweet.

“final one.”

everyone quiets.

he reads:

“‘the cast bullying malachi every interview is my favorite running joke.’”

the entire room laughs.

jack pats malachi’s shoulder.

“it’s because we care.”

marsai nods. “very supportive environment.”

malachi sighs dramatically.

“i feel so loved.”

you glance at him.

“…you kind of deserve it.”

he smirks.

“worth it though.”

you groan.

and jaeden immediately slaps the table.

“HE SAID IT AGAIN.”

malachibartonsangel speaks!

this is part two of slap, cut, chaos.

i wrote these with a headache btw don't mind the chaos of this whole fic...

not proof read!!

requests are open.

feel free to request anything, no matter how short, long or specific!

thank you for reading, i hope you liked it.

have a good day/night<3

malachi barton x fem!bsf!reader

requested: no

warnings: fluff, teasing, cast chaos, mild physical contact (a slap for a scene), two idiots pretending they’re normal about each other

summary: you’re supposed to slap malachi during a scene. you do. the problem is everything that happens after.

malachi barton masterlist

you've never been one to be violent.

obviously you'd get into arguments, but never did you ever lay a hand on anyone in that way.

well... maybe you did, but jokingly. not in a serious angry way.

you had two personalities, one that's a total asshole who has comebacks in three seconds, and the other one, a kind, sweet girl who's nice to any and everyone.

which brings you to now.

you're currently on set of the pulse below, laughing nervously while the director tried her best explaining to you how the next scene would work.

"okay, so you stand really close to eachother, and then out of nowhere lina slaps kai, just like in rehearsal."

"do i actually have to hit him?"

"you're gonna be fine."

you hesitate.

like, really hesitate.

your hand hovers mid-air, fingers trembling just a bit, even though you’ve rehearsed this exact motion at least six times already. angle checked. distance measured. camera locked.

still—your stomach twists.

everyone’s watching.

the director gives you a small nod, gentle but firm. “remember—fear first. then instinct.”

you swallow and step closer to him.

malachi meets your eyes, expression already slipping into kai’s—guarded, knowing, almost cocky. but just for you, he mouths, you’re good.

it doesn’t help. not really.

“and… action.”

lina’s breath stutters. kai stands too close, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips like he knows exactly how much power he has over her.

“you won’t,” he murmurs.

that’s the trigger.

lina’s eyes harden—not with confidence, but with hurt. her hand lifts, shaky, uncertain—

then instinct takes over.

smack.

the sound cuts clean through the room.

kai’s head snaps to the side, a grin breaking through the shock almost immediately. he straightens, tongue pressing to his cheek, eyes dark with something dangerously amused.

he smirks.

“about time,” he mutters.

“cut!”

the second the word leaves the director’s mouth, you drop character.

“oh my god—” you’re already moving, hands flying to malachi’s face, thumbs brushing his jaw as you pull him closer, panic written all over you. “are you okay? i didn’t mean to—was that too hard? tell me if that was too hard.”

he laughs. like actually laughs.

you’re inches from him now, forehead almost touching his, eyes scanning his face like you’re about to medically assess him.

“wow,” he says, amused, voice low. “you slap me once and suddenly you’re holding my face like that?”

you groan. “malachi. focus.”

“i am focused,” he says, grinning wider, holding onto your waist, “on how concerned you look. it’s kinda cute.”

you roll your eyes so hard it almost hurts, but your hands don’t move. “i’m serious. are you actually okay?”

he nods easily. “promise. totally fine.”

then, quieter- just for you -

“honestly? if you wanted to touch my face, you could’ve just asked.”

“oh my god,” you mutter, finally dropping your hands. “unbelievable.”

the director clears her throat, smiling despite herself. “great take. very real. we’re moving on.”

as you step back, malachi leans in one last time, whispering, “next time, don’t hesitate. you kinda scared me.”

you glance at him, unimpressed. “liar.”

he just smirks.

and yeah—

he absolutely enjoyed every second of that.

you’re still buzzing as you walk down the hallway toward the green room, adrenaline not quite done with you yet.

“i swear i didn’t mean to slap you that hard,” you say for like the fourth time, hands moving as you talk. “my brain just—glitched.”

malachi laughs beside you, way too amused for someone who just got slapped on camera. “it was barely anything. i’ve had worse from stunt rehearsals.”

you glance at him. “you smirked.”

“kai smirked,” he corrects immediately.

you narrow your eyes. “you enjoyed it.”

he gasps, fake-offended. “wow. accusing me like that?”

you stop walking for half a second. “malachi.”

he grins. “okay maybe a little. but mostly because you looked like you were about to apologize to my ancestors.”

you groan and keep walking. “i was scared i hurt you.”

“and yet,” he says lightly, “you held my face like that.”

you don’t look at him. “don’t.”

“just an observation,” he says, hands up, still smiling.

you reach the green room first, dropping onto the couch. malachi sits right next to you without even thinking about it, knees angled toward yours, shoulder brushing yours like it’s muscle memory.

you’re mid-sentence– “next time i’m requesting a fake slap only, no exceptions," –when the door swings open.

the rest of the cast starts filing in.

jaeden clocks the room, pauses, then grins. “oh this is a great seating arrangement.”

you sigh. “here we go.”

jaeden points between you and malachi. “so. genuine question. did kai enjoy getting slapped… or was that just you?”

malachi doesn’t even look fazed. “can’t it be both?”

silence.

actual silence.

everyone freezes like the audio just cut out.

you slowly turn to look at him. he’s smirking.

of course he is.

jack clears his throat, suddenly very serious.

“…okay. jokes aside for one second—really solid work in that scene. the hesitation before the slap? super real. like, actually impressive.”

you blink, caught off guard. “oh– thanks.”

malachi nods, polite for exactly two seconds. “appreciate it.”

another beat.

then jack squints. “ANYWAY.”

he leans forward. “did we just discover malachi’s new kink?”

“JACK,” you say immediately.

“oh my god,” riele laughs.

malachi, absolute menace, leans back. “discover is a strong word. i’d say… unlock.”

you bury your face in your hands.

marsai shakes her head. “this is why we can’t have serious conversations.”

asher grins. “i mean, the smirk was wild.”

angourie hums thoughtfully. “character research can be very revealing.”

jaeden nods. “this is a safe space.”

“it is not,” you mutter.

malachi glances at you. “i feel very supported.”

you drop your hands and glare at him. “you are enjoying this way too much.”

“me?” he says innocently. “i’m just letting the group process.”

jack points at him. “so to summarize: light slap, emotional tension, immediate face grab—”

“I WAS CHECKING IF HE WAS OKAY,” you interrupt.

“—and now,” jack continues, “we’ve learned something new about malachi barton.”

malachi smiles. “growth.”

riele laughs. “this explains so much.”

you stand up. “i’m getting food.”

malachi stands up instantly. “same.”

the entire room groans.

as you head for the door, jaeden calls after you, “for the record—this is the most fun ‘discovery’ we’ve had all week.”

malachi leans toward you as you walk out, voice low and teasing.

“see? very educational day.”

you roll your eyes. “you’re insufferable.”

he just smirks.

and the cast absolutely does not let it go.

malachibartonsangel speaks!

hey guys, i'm so sorry for being inactive life is just crazy rn...

but i'm back!!

btw i decided that i'll only color what malachi or you (fem!reader) say. otherwise it'll be too much work and not enough colors i have available.

this is the last fic with multiple colors. just wanted to inform y'all!

part two is already written and comes out tomorrow around the same time!

not proof read!!

requests are open.

feel free to request anything, no matter how short, long or specific!

thank you for reading, i hope you liked it.

have a good day/night<3

interact with this post to be added to my malachi barton taglist! you can either comment or just like this post!<33 (make sure to have your tags on so i can actually tag you.)

malachi barton masterlist:

✰ - smut | 𖦹 - suggestive | ✿ - fluff | ↯ - angst | ❣︎ - author's favorite

malachi barton:

cramping up 𖦹 ❣︎

the magic waited ✿ ❣︎

wishmakers & side glances ✿ ❣︎

soft for him ✿

hidden sparks 𖦹 ❣︎

little steps ↯

not him ↯

cereal thoughts ✿

stop smiling like that ✿

chaotic day on set 𖦹 ❣︎

just friends? pt2 ✿

comfortable ✿ ❣︎

favor ✿ ❣︎

victor:

sweet bite ✿

colby madden:

nothing yet...

malachi barton x fem!bsf!reader

requested: no.

warnings: heavy flirting, suggestive jokes/adult humor, accidental touching, sexual tension/innuendo, teasing/banter, almost kissing/interrupted kisses, friends being ridiculous

“ow!”

“malachi. don’t be a baby.”

“but it hurts!”

“well, beauty is pain.”

“that’s bullshit.”

“it really isn’t.”

“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.

(spoiler: you didn’t.)

“’cause…” he paused.

“’cause what?”

“…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.

he noticed immediately.

“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.

malachi noticed.

“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?”

“yes. but first—”

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.

you froze.

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 like what you see?”

honestly?

yes.

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.

“thanks,” you mumbled.

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.

yes. 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.”

he didn’t move.

instead, he dipped his head just enough for his breath to brush your cheek. not touching. not kissing. just there.

“say it again.”

“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.

then there was a knock.

you both jumped.

“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.

you took it. obviously.

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 friends.

still not kissing.

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.

“you alive?” he asked.

“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.

…traitor.

“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.

you were.

mostly.

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.

he knew that.

“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.”

“low bar,” maya said.

you reached for a water bottle — and malachi reached at the same time. your fingers brushed.

not dramatic. not accidental enough to ignore.

you looked up at him.

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.”

that did it.

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.

midnight rolled in fast.

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.”

you blinked. “i’m not—”

he tilted his head, just slightly. not accusing. just honest.

you exhaled. “…okay, maybe a little.”

“why?”

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?”

“who?”

“us.”

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.”

you didn’t move.

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.

“hey,” he said.

“yeah?”

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.”

he smiled back.

still friends.

still not kissing.

still dancing on the edge of something neither of you were brave enough to name.

night shoots always ended like this.

too much closeness.

not enough sleep.

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 157+ 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!

have a good day/night<3

thx so much

the magic waited - malachi barton

malachi barton x fem!gf!reader

requested: yes.

warnings: fluff, malachi being a sweet bf.

you don’t hate christmas.

you just stopped trusting it.

as a kid, it was everything—waking up too early, running to the tree, believing something good was guaranteed. then one year, it wasn’t. then another. and eventually, you learned how to enjoy christmas quietly, carefully. no expectations. no disappointment.

so when december rolls around now, you keep it chill. vibes only. no feelings.

malachi clocks it immediately.

you like lights but don’t decorate.

you hum along to songs but never play them yourself.

you say “i’m fine” when people talk about traditions.

so instead of asking why, he does what he does best—creates space.

a few days before christmas, he shows up with a box.

“we’re building this together,” he says, setting it down.

inside: a small artificial tree. nothing fancy. just enough.

you laugh. “that’s it?”

“trust the process,” he grins.

you end up sitting on the floor, tangled in lights, arguing about which side looks better. he keeps handing you ornaments like they’re treasures—one you made in kindergarten energy, one goofy one that makes no sense, one simple glass one he lets you place last.

when you step back, something in your chest tightens.

it’s not sadness. it’s recognition.

later that night, he suggests baking. you almost say no—almost—but you don’t.

the kitchen smells like sugar and vanilla. flour somehow ends up on your nose. he pretends not to notice until you call him out, and then he wipes it off with his sleeve like it’s the most normal thing ever.

“you okay?” he asks, softer now.

you hesitate. then: “christmas used to feel… different.”

he listens. really listens. no fixing. no rushing.

“maybe,” he says, “this one doesn’t have to be like the old ones.”

christmas eve is quiet. no chaos. just you two in hoodies, a bad christmas movie playing while neither of you watches. the tree lights glow in the corner like they’re breathing.

at some point, you realize you’re smiling for no reason.

that’s when it hits you.

the magic didn’t come back as excitement.

it came back as peace.

as laughter that doesn’t feel forced.

as warmth that stays.

you don’t feel like a kid again.

you feel safe.

and for the first time in years, christmas doesn’t feel like something you lost.

it feels like something you’re rebuilding.

malachibartonsangel speaks!

i hope you love reading this as much as i loved writing it.

not proof read!!

thank you for requesting.

requests are open.

feel free to request anything, no matter how short, long or specific!

thank you for reading, i hope you liked it.

have a good day/night<3

malachi barton x fem!bsf!reader

requested: no

warnings: Make A Wish participation, fluff, mild romance, secret crush tension, teen-friendly flirting, light physical comedy, brief mention of past illness/hospitalization, social media/viral content.

the ocean breeze is doing that thing where it makes everything feel softer — the colors, the air, even the sounds.

you step out of the car with a picnic basket, and malachi hops out behind you, sunglasses on like he thinks he’s in a music video.

“how do i look?” he asks, striking a dramatic pose.

you squint at him. “like you’re praying somebody takes your picture.”

“you. obviously,” he says, grinning like it’s the most obvious thing in the world

you pretend that doesn’t make your heart do several somersaults.

⸻

two teens are waiting with the coordinator: ayla (16) and nico (14).

ayla has that quiet-nervous energy, holding her tote bag like a shield.

nico is practically vibrating, holding a disposable camera like he’s ready to document every blade of grass.

they spot you two and freeze.

“omg it’s THEM—” nico whispers way too loudly.

ayla elbows him. “shut up shut up shut up— hi.”

you smile big. “hi, babes. we’re so happy you’re here.”

malachi waves like a golden retriever. “we ready to beach it up or WHAT?”

nico immediately points the camera at him. “can i take a picture?”

malachi kneels next to him. “only if you get my good side. actually… all my sides are good.”

you smack his shoulder. “be serious for two seconds.”

ayla laughs — soft but real.

⸻

you lay out a huge blanket while malachi 'helps' by absolutely not helping at all.

“hold this corner,” you say.

he holds the wrong corner.

“chi… the OTHER corner.”

“ohhhhhh. why didn’t you say so?”

ayla giggles quietly. nico films it dramatically like he’s making a documentary.

“subject #1 is struggling with basic instructions.” he says behind the camera.

malachi perks up, playfully glaring at the boy, “delete that.”

“keep it.” you smirk, giggling quietly.

ayla and nico start to relax instantly.

⸻

the teens want to play beach volleyball.

“prepare to lose.”

“malachi… we can’t beat them up. this is their day.”

“i would never. i’m just saying they look competitive.”

ayla absolutely destroys both of you with one serve.

malachi drops to his knees, hands over his face. “ayla… PLEASE. show mercy."

you’re doubled over laughing, hands on your knees.

nico films the entire meltdown.

⸻

you take a break sitting in the sand. the teens build a sandcastle.

the sun hits your face. malachi’s glance lingers a second too long.

ayla notices, eyebrows raised.

he immediately looks away, grabs a handful of sand, and throws it at nico. “ATTACK MODE.”

nico shrieks and starts a sand war.

you’re oblivious. ayla is NOT.

ayla whispers to you quietly, “he looks at you like… like… y’know.”

you blink. “like what?”

“like that,” she says, pointing as malachi keeps staring again before quickly pretending he wasn’t.

you pretend your heart didn’t just sprint a marathon.

⸻

you all sit on the huge blanket eating fruit, chips, everything.

nico points his camera at you two.

“can i take a pic of you guys together?”

both you and malachi go “uh— yeah— sure—” in the same weirdly nervous tone.

ayla snaps a pic on her phone too.

the sunset behind you. the way you’re both leaning slightly toward each other without noticing.

later, that pic goes viral.

⸻

you went quiet for a while, just enjoying the sun. ayla is editing clips for a mini vlog. nico is sipping on a slushie quietly.

malachi leans back, stretching, being dramatic.

his arms bend over his head and you see the bruise on his wrist from last week’s stunt rehearsal.

nico notices. “woah— does filming really do that?”

you nod. “it’s fun but intense. but we take care of each other.”

malachi shoots you a look like he felt that in his soul.

ayla perks up, “is it weird kissing someone on camera?? like… does it feel awkward if you’re not dating?”

you and malachi freeze like someone hit pause.

you choke on your drink.

malachi’s ears go red instantly.

you stutter, “i mean— it’s just acting— it’s normal, it’s—”

malachi interrupts fast, “yeah yeah super professional totally normal no biggie yep.”

nico raises a brow. “that was the least convincing answer ever.”

ayla smirks. “i ship it.”

you and malachi hit them with the same offended expression, which makes the teens wheeze laughing.

⸻

nico begs everyone to go into the water.

malachi goes full lifeguard mode for no reason.

“everyone stay within this area. no running. no drowning. drowning is banned.”

ayla rolls her eyes playfully, “wow. revolutionary.”

you flick water at him.

he flicks it back, smirking like it’s personal.

nico films, “parents are fighting again 🙄”

you instantly turn to him, “we are NOT—”

“she started—”

ayla raised her eyebrow, not convinced, “sure you’re not.”

⸻

after swimming, everyone chills on the blanket again.

ayla picks at her bracelet and says quietly,

“i was really sick last year. hospital stuff. being here today… it feels like the first normal day in forever.”

nico nods. “me too. like… we forgot what regular fun even felt like.”

you instantly put an arm around both of them. “you deserve all the fun in the world.”

malachi sits in front of them, elbows on his knees, voice soft, “and we’re sooo glad you spent your day with us.”

they both smile — tiny but so real.

⸻

nico wants 'aesthetic pics.' ayla wants 'candid ones.'

malachi grabs your hand dramatically.

“come on, let’s give the people a show.”

you accidentally blush.

he drags you into the golden light.

you pose normally. he poses dramatically. nico loses his mind laughing.

ayla snaps a photo that looks stupidly intimate — the sun lighting up your hair, malachi looking at you mid-laugh.

this pic?

yeah it hits 5M likes by the next morning.

⸻

ayla hugs you first, “thank you for making me feel normal today.”

you squeeze her tight. “anytime. seriously.”

nico hugs malachi then you.

“best. day. ever.”

malachi gives nico his sunglasses.

“they’re goofy. you’ll rock ’em more than me.”

nico screams.

you give ayla your beach anklet.

“so you don’t forget today.”

she tears up.

the coordinator leads them away slowly. they wave like ten times.

⸻

on the way back, you’re both wiped. soft music plays. the sky is all pink and orange.

malachi looks out the window for a bit, then murmurs, “i didn’t know we could make someone’s life better like that.”

you glance at him. “yeah… kinda changes you.”

he nods slowly. “i wanna do this again. a lot. like… not just for the cameras. for real.”

you smile at him, tired but glowing.

“me too, chi. me too.”

then he turns to you with that stupid charming half-grin.

“also… we did look like a couple today.”

you roll your eyes, laughing. “shut up.”

“you didn’t deny it though.”

“chi.”

“i’m just saying—”

“malachi.”

he snickers. “okay okay.”

but he’s smiling.

and so are you.

malachibartonsangel speaks!

i kinda wanted to write this for a while now and finally had the time to sit down and actually do it for once. more fics to come! aswell as the requests i recieved. they're in the making.

not proof read!!

requests are open.

feel free to request anything, no matter how short, long or specific!

thank you for reading, i hope you liked it.

sweet bite - victor

victor x fem!reader

requested: yes.

warnings: fluff, mild flustered romance, bloodfruit eating, teen-friendly

it’s late afternoon, and the courtyard is bathed in golden light. the other students have mostly gone inside, leaving you with a quiet little corner of seabrook all to yourself. you’re perched on the steps, idly nibbling on a slice of bloodfruit, when a shadow falls across you.

“hey,” victor says, plopping down beside you like it’s the most casual thing in the world. he’s got a basket of bloodfruit in his hands, a little crooked smile on his face. “thought you might want some company… and some fruit.”

you laugh softly. “you’re offering, or is it like a bribe?”

“totally offering,” he says, holding out the basket. “i’m not that desperate… maybe a little.” he bites into a slice, and you notice the faintest flash of fangs—just for a second—before he hides them again. it makes your stomach flutter.

for a while, it’s just easy. you take turns picking slices, brushing hands occasionally, and every time it happens victor goes slightly red and clears his throat, trying to act nonchalant. but you can see it—the little warmth spreading across his cheeks, the way his smile softens when he catches your gaze.

“you know,” he starts after a quiet moment, “i’m… glad i’m here with you. not just because of the fruit.” his voice is low, almost shy, and you feel your heart skip.

you grin, nudging him lightly. “glad you’re here too.”

he laughs softly, that little laugh that somehow makes him look even smaller and gentler. then, hesitating, he reaches over to offer you the last slice. your fingers brush again. this time, neither of you pulls away.

“for teamwork,” he murmurs, voice barely above the breeze.

“teamwork,” you echo, biting into the fruit and tasting the sweet, red juice. victor watches you, fangs peeking just slightly when he takes his own bite. it’s barely noticeable, but you notice.

the time starts to slow down, just like in the movies, and somehow the world feels perfect. no drama, no big vampire battles, just the two of you, laughing, sharing fruit, and feeling a quiet kind of magic.

victor shifts closer, brushing shoulders with you, and suddenly, the simple act of sitting next to him feels like… something more.

he glances at you, soft eyes catching the last light of the day, and you realize he’s not scary, not intimidating—he’s just… victor. sweet, awkward, ridiculously cute victor. and for some reason, your heart feels like it could stay right there, in that quiet courtyard, forever.

malachibartonsangel speaks!

not proof read!!!

thank you for requesting.

requests are open.

feel free to request anything, no matter how short, long or specific!

thank you for reading, i hope you liked it.

1000 LIKES?!

thank you sm to everyone who brought me here<3

i really appreciate it!

i have a lot of drafts, some of them unfinished.

but as soon as they're done, i'm going to publish them.

requests are open. feel free to request anything, no matter how long, specific or short.

thank you!

soft for him - malachi barton

malachi barton x fem!gf!reader

requested: yes.

warnings: pure fluff, soft boy hours, emotional happy crying, wholesome meltdown incoming

A/N: thank you for requesting, i hope you liked it! lmk if this didn't turn out the way you wanted to, i'm happy to rewrite it if that's the case!

malachi’s day had been flopping harder than a fish on land.

not in a dramatic “my life is over” way — just that annoying chain of tiny fails that pile up until you wanna lie face-down on the floor.

he woke up late.

his hoodie string got sucked into the hood.

he forgot his water bottle.

his lines weren’t sticking.

and every time he messed up, you could see him get quieter and quieter, like he was trying to shrink away from the noise of the day.

when you walked into the studio, he was sitting on the edge of the stage, elbows on his knees, hood half over his face like he was hiding from existence.

he looked up when he heard your steps, forcing the tiniest smile — the “i’m fine” smile he uses when he’s absolutely not fine.

“hey,” he mumbled, voice tired in a way that tugged at your chest.

you didn’t push him. didn’t ask a hundred questions.

you just held something out toward him.

a small bouquet, wrapped in soft brown paper, tied with a ribbon you’d knotted yourself. gentle colors. messy-but-cute arrangement. flowers that felt like warmth.

he stared at it.

then at you.

then back at it.

“what… what’s that?”

his voice actually cracked.

“flowers,” you said softly.

“for you.”

he blinked so slowly it almost made you laugh, but then you saw the way his expression shifted — confusion melting into shock, then into something fragile.

“for… me?” he whispered.

you nodded. “you looked like you needed something gentle today.”

and that was it.

the moment that undid him.

his eyes got shiny.

his jaw clenched.

his throat worked like he was trying to swallow down a whole storm of feelings.

guys don’t get flowers.

not often.

not like this.

and definitely not from someone who sees him the way you do.

he took them from your hands so carefully, like they’d shatter if he breathed too hard. he stared at them like they were some kind of treasure, like no one had ever given him something so soft just because.

then he set them aside and pulled you in — arms wrapped so tight around your waist you could feel the tension slowly leave his body. his face pressed into your shoulder, breathing you in, grounding himself.

“thank you,” he murmured, voice thick, a little shaky.

“you have no idea… you just— thank you.”

you brushed your fingers through his hair, kissing the top of his head.

and he melted. straight up melted.

when he finally pulled back, his eyes were red in the sweetest way. not sad — just overwhelmed. seen. loved.

later that night, when he got home, he carried the flowers like they were something sacred. he placed them on his nightstand so they’d be the last thing he saw before falling asleep.

and when he found the tiny note you’d tucked inside — the handwritten one telling him you were proud of him, that you loved his heart even on the messy days — he reread it twice. maybe three times.

then he folded it carefully and slid it into his wallet. not to show off. not for anyone else to see.

just so he could keep it close.

just so he could remember what it felt like when you handed him something gentle on a day that wasn’t.

the next morning?

he didn’t tell a single person.

didn’t brag.

didn’t tease.

didn’t mention it to anyone.

but he kept smiling to himself. soft. private. like he had a secret the world didn’t get to touch.

and every time he opened his wallet and saw that note tucked behind his ID, that warm, steady feeling bloomed in his chest all over again.

he carried it with him.

quiet.

his.

malachibartonsangel speaks:

not proof read!!

thank you for reading, i hope you liked it!

requests are open!

feel free to request anything, no matter how short, long or specific!