Staying In

Staying In

Pairing: Eleventh Doctor x reader

Word Count: 791

Summary: The Doctor and Y/N are just relaxing in the TARDIS.

Warnings: None. Cuteness, if that counts.

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day!

 “So, Y/N…. Where to?” asked the Doctor, grinning wildly at you. His grin was so Doctor-ish, so mad and intelligent and confusing all at once that it always managed to leave you weak at the knees. And his face… deceptively so young, it was in reality as old as time itself. Seeing him smile despite everything he’d been through both before and during his travels with you made you content and you smiled in return, because if a man who’d seen so much destruction and had suffered through losses the like of which the universe had never seen before could smile and be full of joy, then so could you; so could anyone.

“Well… to tell you the truth, Doctor, I just want to stay inside for once,” you told him and saw a look of confusion cross his face. You always were eager to cross time and space to see new galaxies and visit places long-forgotten or not-yet created, so your denial was an unusual reaction.

“You do?” he asked with a frown, taking a seat next to you on the floor of the TARDIS’s control room, bringing his legs up to his chest and hugging them.

You nodded. “Yeah. It’s not like I never want to go on a journey again, I just… I want some rest. You know, stay inside with a book, take a long shower or just talk with you. It’s been such a long time since I last took a breath while knowing that nothing wants to kill me or that the end of some world or other is nigh,” you said, closing your eyes and taking a deep, relaxing breath and then letting it out again.

“Please. Just for today. You could do with the rest too,” you added, blindly reaching out to pat his knee.

You felt him startle at the contact and you opened your eyes and turned to face him, staring into his green eyes.

“Okay,” he said, nodding, only after a short period of silence. “Let’s rest, if so you wish. But tomorrow, first thing after we wake up, we leave. We go see the most peculiar and interesting corners of the universe that ever existed or will exist,” he said, his green eyes sparkling as he spoke fondly about the world.

“Yes. I’d like that,” you said, and then you stayed silent. Both of you just sat there, looking at each other in companionable and comfortable silence. He was smiling brightly, fondly at you, and you hoped that your own smile was just as affectionate and radiant.

“What do we do now?” he asked, and his question drifted off into oblivion, as you didn’t reply.

You didn’t know what to say. What did two people do when they were alone together in a time machine in which they had travelled the stars? What could two people who had no secrets from each other, no misgivings or doubts and who had done and seen everything do?

There was no answer to that, at least not one that you knew, so you remained silent, because silence always was the best option when you had nothing left to say.

As you should have known though, the Doctor didn’t like the silence much. He could only hold your gaze for so long before he started shifting uncomfortably where he was sitting and sometimes looking away.

You looked away too, sighed, and closed your eyes to rest them for a minute. Your hand was still resting on his knee and you felt rather than saw his own bigger hand cover yours.

“Look at me again,” he said simply, and you opened your eyes to meet his gaze again, but this time something had changed.

His eyes, the look in them, had changed now. It was heated, needy, and shifted from your eyes to your lips all the time.

Deciding to take the initiative, you leaned closer to him, fighting to keep your breath steady as you could feel his own warm up your face.

With a last decisive gulp and a thought that shyness could go to hell, you closed the distance that separated your lips and pulled him into a long, passionate kiss. Your tongue traced the outline of his lips as he panted into your mouth and his one hand clenched in his hair just as his other slid down to your waist, pulling you closer.

Eventually, you pulled away, both grinning brightly -too brightly- and then you finally spoke.

“I have an answer to your question now,” you said breathily, a smirk on your lips.

“What question?” he asked.

“About what we’re gonna do,” you replied.

“And what’s the answer?” he inquired again.

“This,” you replied and leaned closer to kiss him again.

the worst thing about writing is that you aren’t just a writer. you have to be a thousand things. a poet, a flirt, a weapons expert, a bleeding heart, a scholar, a legendary cook, a theorist, an engineer, a reckless teenage girl, a dying god. you have to be able to write monologues and speeches and heartfelt confessions, and you have to make them believable. writing is putting yourself into someone else’s shoes.

writing is really hard (◕︿◕✿)

Join Me

Pairing: Lucifer x reader

Word Count: 1,074

Summary: The reader wants to confront Lucifer, but ends up giving into her darkest desires…

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: Hope it’s okay!

Your palms, clutching the gun tightly, were sweating and your hands were shaking visibly. If your hunting partners were there, they would have been sure to tease you about that, as you took pride in your steady hand and perfect aim.

But they weren’t even alive anymore, and all because of the man -archangel, demon, whatever- standing there in front of you with his back turned to you; vulnerable and bare. Nobody had seen him kill them, but word was he had sent his demons to do the dirty job.

Still, it was his fault, his fault, his fault.

Your whole body was shaking with anger and fear, and the adrenaline was pumping through your blood, making your skin buzz and tingle. Every slight movement felt weird, as if you weren’t fully in control of your body and you were feeling someone else control it.

You were so angry, so livid and full of rage, that while you knew your simple bullets would do nothing to harm Lucifer himself, you had to try. Your life held no meaning anyway without your friends and hunting partners, and you’d get your revenge if it was the last thing you did.

Suddenly, the stability in your arms returned and you were able to carefully aim at Lucifer’s back and fire.

The bullet cut right through Lucifer’s vessel’s body, and a spray of blood coloured his shirt crimson, but his face held an amused expression as he turned to face you.

He shook his head and pursed his lips in disappointment, and you felt like a scolded child. Not knowing what else to do, you fired again at him as he approached you, but not so much as a wince of pain crossed his face.

When he was actually close enough so you could feel the heat his body emanated, he smirked cruelly and with a simple twist of his wrist you were pinned against the wall behind you.

“You’ve been a reaaaaaally naughty girl, Y/n,” Lucifer said, shaking his head again and making your blood boil with anger. You were surprised by how human he actually sounded, how real and tangible and not supernatural at all.

You struggled against your invisible bonds, trying to form words so you could respond to him, but you were unable to.

“I can’t decide if you want to ask me how I know who you are or if you just want to tell me to ‘go to hell’,” he grinned, chuckling at his own joke, as you once again found yourself surprised, almost mesmerised by his voice.

Again, you tried to speak, only this time you found yourself able to actually form words.

“Both,” you croaked out, upper lip curling in a sneer of hatred.

Lucifer cast you another disappointed look, and part of you actually felt chastised by it. He was menacing, and imposing, and it felt as if he could make everyone in a room feel inferior just by breathing.

“I know your name because you are a very capable hunter indeed, and I have been keeping a close eye on you,” he said, smirking.

“So close an eye that you killed my best friends?” you spat out in fury.

“I had to do what had to be done to gain a follower, my dear,” Lucifer replied with a shrug.

“Oh, and did you get that follower? Were they worth it?” you almost screamed at him.

He smirked enigmatically. “I don’t know yet. That is up to you.”

Your heart beat faster as you came to a realisation. Lucifer wanted to recruit you.

“You bastard. Why would I ever join you?” you sneered.

“You are capable. You are inconspicuous. You are smart, and talented, and you are just like me. You are a shining star now, your parents’ favourite and your friends’ beloved, but I can see the strain in your eyes. You don’t want this life of a prodigy because your ideals are different. Act upon them; join me, and the world will be at our feet. It will be ours to do with as we wish; ours to create and to destroy,” he said, and you were embarrassed by how close to home his words had actually hit. You had always hated how the hunter’s life had just been thrust upon you without anybody asking you first, and what you had hated even more was the fact that you were amazing at being a hunter.

“We’re different,” you said, grasping at straws. He could see in your eyes that his words rang true, that what he had said had affected you in more ways than you cared to admit.

“Everyone’s different,” he scoffed. “But you and I… not so much. The only difference I can see is that your Hell is right here. You are living it every moment, breathing it in and exhaling it with every breath. And you know it. You can feel it. Yet… you deny it. We want the same things. Accept it,” he said, calmly striding closer to you; so close that you could almost feel his breath on your face.

You held his blue gaze for a long while, neither looking away.

“I am not like you,” you insisted.

Lucifer just gave a cold, low, laugh and leaned even closer to you, touching his lips to yours.

What you realised first was that you were no longer bound by his invisible spell. He was actually giving you the option to decide here.

That took you by surprise, but what astonished you even more was the fact that you were responding positively to his increasingly rough kiss. He was kissing and licking and sucking and biting and, when he met no resistance, he pushed you against the wall and trapped you between it and his body.

“What is your answer?” he asked, voice low in a growl as he pulled away from the kiss that had left you breathless and yet wanting -needing- more.

“Yes,” you said breathily.

You didn’t know why you replied with what you did. The only sure thing was that no demon was possessing you because your anti-possession tattoo was still whole and unharmed.

The prospect of the world being yours was seductive, and you couldn’t say no now that you had the way to make it reality.

Lucifer smirked. “Welcome, my queen,” he muttered and leaned closer to capture your lips in another desperate, needy, kiss.

How to be a Writer

Step 1: Hate everything you ever write ever.

Step 2: Keep writing.

We Need to Talk

Pairing: James McAvoy x reader

Word Count: 904

The Request: Can I have one with James McAvoy where we’re dating and my best friend, Steven, is on a movie with him and after a couple of weeks he starts rumors that I am cheating on James but they’re not true. James believes them and we break up. One day, I am on the set (as a make-up artist) and James hears Steven say that it was all fake and he fights with him and I break them up and at home I clean his wounds and with a lot of fluff?

Warnings: N/A

A/N: Request for @anyfandomimaginex

“Y/n, we need to talk,” James’s voice told you over the phone, and you froze. In your experience, nobody ever used that phrase to say a good thing. Nervously, you replied.

“What is it, James?” you asked, trying to keep your voice level.

“What is it!? You dare ask me that question?” he was very obviously angry, and you didn’t know why. You felt like you were supposed to, though.

“Um... Yes. I don’t understand what your problem is. I’m sorry if I did something wrong, but tell me so I can fix it,” you mumbled into the receiver.

You could hear his scoff even from over the phone.

“You can’t fix this, I’m sorry. Your friend Steven told me that you’ve been cheating on me for a while now, and he has no reason to lie,” you could now hear a broken note in his voice, like he was holding back tears.

“We are over,” he declared and terminated the call. You just sat there, unable to comprehend what had happened, and you dialled James’s number again, hoping for an apology, a chance to let you explain that you were definitely not seeing another man, but he didn’t pick it up.

For the next couple of weeks, neither he nor Steven answered your calls or messages. You were both confused -because why would a man you’d known from school and called himself your best friend would do this to your relationship?- and determined to confront them both when you would be called on set for ‘Welcome to the Punch’, the action movie they were shooting.

When you finally were called on set as a make-up artist, you were relieved. You were finally going to have a chance to talk to James and Steven, demand explanations from the latter and ask the former if you could continue your relationship, because you’d been going strong for some while now and you loved him a lot.

You walked on set, hoping to catch sight of James first, so you could rush up to him and explain your side of the story, but you were unfortunate. Steven was there, and apparently he was waiting for you because he greeted you immediately.

“Oh, hello,” you huffed out a reluctant greeting and glared at him.

“Why so hostile?” Steven asked confidently as if he himself had done nothing wrong.

You were angry; extremely so. After two weeks of being unable to do something about the situation James, you had every right to be mad at the person responsible.

“Are you kidding me? What you told James about was absolutely awful and untrue!” you almost shouted at him.

The idiot just shrugged. “It was just some fun, sheesh. Why are you acting that way? I thought he’d have figured out by himself that you’d never cheat on him. Chill,” he said and you were about to reply with a string of curse words, but you were interrupted by a smooth, Scottish accent.

“Fun? You orchestrated all that for ‘fun’?” asked James’s incredulous voice from behind you. He quickly walked up to where you and Steven were standing and glared at the other man.

“That was unacceptable! You know I can get you fired, right? You’re not even important around here! You’re a waste of money and space,” James half-screamed at Steven. Even he had the good sense to look chastised by James’s fury.

“Do you have any idea what your stupid, moronic antics put both me and Y/n through?” James asked. “Fun,” he scoffed mockingly.

Steven didn’t say a thing to defend himself, but James was still angry. He launched himself at the other man, probably intending to land a punch or two, but Steven was quicker and punched him in the upper arm. You could see a small tear in the fabric of James’s shirt from where Steven’s hand had grabbed on tightly and pulled, and you thought you saw a bit of blood too. Steven was about to kick James when you stepped between them, glaring up at you old best friend and slapping him hard across the face, so hard that there was an angry red mark on his skin.

“Go,” you said authoritatively, and he did. Quickly, you turned to James.

“Let’s go to your hotel room, I can fix you up there and you can get another shirt, okay?” you asked him softly and mutely, he nodded.

The car ride there was silent but, once you were in the safety and silence of his room and you had dressed his small wound from where Steven’s fingernails had scraped his skin, he kissed you. Just like that, and out of the blue. You didn’t complain, instead kissing him back.

“I’m so sorry for believing that moron. It’s just... I thought he was your friend, and I didn’t think he’d be lying,” he sighed and grabbed hold of your hand.

“Will you forgive me for being stupid?” he asked, looking at you apologetically with his angelic blue eyes wide.

“I’ve already forgiven you,” you muttered in response, kissing him again. “I love you, and you know that,” you said with a soft smile.

“Me too,” he replied happily and hugged you tightly. “Thank you,” he said, “And I’m sorry for everything I put you through by refusing to listen,” he added.

“It’s all right, James,” you mumbled, kissing him. “I can’t stay mad at you for long.”

I wanna drown in literature and forget I actually exist