Matt Smith X Reader - Tumblr Posts

She’s a Mystery

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Prompts -  I didn’t see Doctor Who on your who you write for but I thought I’d ask if you could do one where the Doctor sees reader in different places/times and confronts her and it leads to them travelling together. Hinted romance if you could. No problem if you won’t write for DW, thanks!

“Right then,” The Doctor exclaimed aloud to himself as he made his way back to the TARDIS, “Where to next?” He slowed his pace as he passed a library, seeing a familiar figure huddled over a book and laptop through the window.

You. It was always you. No matter where he went, whether it was 1775 or 200129, you were always there. You were always confused, always had that same crease between the eyebrows and same head tilt as you stared at him like he was mad.

“Who are you?” He whispered to himself as he made his way towards you. A reading from the screw driver showed you were just plain human. There was nothing special about you, no time jumping device that he could see either. You were a mystery and oh how The Doctor loved a mystery.

“Hello there.” The Doctor smiled as he sat himself down in the seat across from you. You looked up at him in confusion, there was that head tilt and eyebrow crease he knew so well.

“Hi?” You greeted, though it came out like a question as you looked up from your book.

“Do you recognise me?” The Doctor asked as he suddenly sat up straight and leaned his body across the table so he was staring into your eyes. You looked around before settling your gaze back on him.

“I’m sorry, should I?” You shot back, confused and slightly annoyed with the man who had interrupted your studying.

“Perhaps you should. Who sent you, huh?” Your eyes were wide as he pulled out a device and zapped it in your face.

“What the- my teacher sent me so I could finish my assignment. What is that?” You gasped, knocking the screwdriver away.

“Nothing, always the same. You’re just a bloody human.” He murmured to himself.

“Of course, I’m human!” You exclaimed as quietly as you could, still aware of the fact you were in the library.

“You can’t be! I saw you in France 1629, then again in Monmouth 1778, then again on an entirely different planet fifteen light years away from this time!” He ranted, slumping back in his chair once more with a defeated look, looking like a child who was close to throwing a tantrum. “You shouldn’t be possible.”

“1629, 1778, another planet? Those are things that shouldn’t be possible.” You told him, causing his head to snap up and a grin to form on his face.

This hadn’t happened before, you always just dismissed him, never picked up on the fact that he claimed to have visited those places at those times. Interesting.

“Oh, it’s plenty possible.” He told you, “But don’t you think I’m mad for trying to claim not only you were there but me too?”

“Oh, I think you’re absolutely bonkers. There’s no way you’re telling the truth.” You claimed, arching an eyebrow at him.

“But I am. I’m The Doctor.” He introduced himself and you felt your head explode with the information, flashes of different men, tall, short, old, young, all with questionable fashion. You gripped your head as The Doctor reached across to you.

“Are you alright?” He asked warily once you’d recovered.

“I-I I do-don’t,” You stuttered before taking a shaky breath, “I don’t know what just happened.” You confessed.

“What did you see?” He asked, more of a demand.

You quickly explained to him what you had saw and watched as his eyes widened. He thought over every possibility but none were right, none explained who you were or how you knew of his other lives. He wanted nothing more than to get you into the TARDIS to see if she could figure out something.

“Listen, I’m a time traveller from Gallifrey, an old and long-gone planet. I have two hearts and I swear on both of them you’ll be ok but you need to come with me because something isn’t right and we need to figure it out.” He told you, barely pausing for breath.

It took quite a bit of convincing for you to follow The Doctor. The two of you walked side by side down brightly lit roads. The air was cool which you appreciated as you’d been stuck in the library for hours desperately trying to finish your paper. A part of you was questioning every decision you had ever made, you knew going off with strangers, especially without telling anybody beforehand, was dangerous but a bigger part of you felt safe, like you knew this man and he would protect you.

It wasn’t long before The Doctor, who called themselves that anyway, was leading you down an alleyway and stopped in front of a blue police box that had you raising an eyebrow.

“You led me all this way for a box?” You asked.

“Trust me.” He grinned at knocked on it causing the door to swing open and a stream of light to flow out.

You looked at him warily but he just tilted his head, gesturing for you to enter.

“Oh my god.” You whispered as you spun around in a circle.

“Go on, say it, I love it when they say it.” The Doctor beamed.

“It’s, It’s bigger on the inside.” You and The Doctor said at the same time causing you to laugh slightly manically. He stepped out of your way as you exited the box only to circle it and re-enter.

“That- this is not possible.” You told him as you ran your fingers along the console causing him to step forward and flick switches you had pressed.

“Everything’s possible.” He told you with a grin. “Now, this is the TARDIS and she’s mine, technically I’m borrowing her but semantics.” He shrugged before continuing, “Now, she can do a scan, completely non-invasive, and we can figure out just what you are.” He told you as he started pressing buttons and pulling levers.

“I thought I was just plain human.” You asked with a hint of amusement.

“Ah, well, perhaps you are but there could be something more to you and I just can’t help myself. I love a mystery.”

You and The Doctor spoke for hours as the TARDIS scanned you and then took a long time to give an alert. The two of you were sat next to each other as The Doctor told you of his adventures.

“So, you can travel anywhere in time and space, right?” You asked.

“Right.”

“So, why not stop the bad stuff from happening, like wars and stuff, surely you can just fly your box there and make everything better.”

“Well, it doesn’t actually work like that. Time and space, somethings are so fixed that no matter what you do they have to happen. Sometimes you know something is going to happen and you try to fix it but your actions are what causes something. Trust me, it’s a blessing and a curse to be able to travel like this.” He explained, suddenly looking like he had the weight of several planets on his shoulders.

“I’d love to travel. There’s so many incredible things that are just out there waiting to be explored.” You told him with a faraway look that caused him to smile softly at you.

“Why not do it then? Go exploring?” He asked, eyes wide as he did.

“That’s not the way things are,” you began with a heavy sigh, “Here you’re expected to finish up your education, start working a 9-5 job that makes you miserable and squeeze out some kids with your partner who you hate.”

“You could always run away with me. You know, one of the best things about having a time machine is I can take you anywhere you want, anytime you want, and have you home five minutes later.” The Doctor told you causing you to look at him in excitement.  

“Really!?” You exclaimed, “but you just met me. Why would you want me to travel with you?” You asked him.

“There’s something about you, Y/N. I like you.”

-

-

-

You laughed as The Doctor grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him, the two of you running as fast as you could. You’d begged The Doctor to bring you to see Shakespeare and whilst it was beautiful, though the smell was something that could be better, it had ended with The Doctor narrowly escaping getting punched in the face and the two of you fleeing to the TARDIS, panting as you leaned against the doors.

“That was close.” He laughed as he watched you giggle through deep breaths.

Neither of you had found out why The Doctor had seen you several times. A scan from the TARDIS all those months ago showed that you were in fact just a regular human but The Doctor chose to focus on you, here and now, not on whatever happened. Without it he never would have gone up to you in the library that day, he would have been left alone despite Amy’s wishes.

You truly were a blessing to him.

“Where to next, Y/N?” He asked causing you to grin at him.

“Surprise me.” You told him with a soft smile.

You were a mystery to him in more ways than one.

Doctor Who Masterlist

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- Not Leaving You

- Wishing on the Stars

- She's a Mystery

Daemon Targaryen | Matt Smith

House of the Dragon Season 2

Matt Smith: Two Face

Imagine filming a fairly violent scene with Matt Smith for House of the Dragon, what happens when you have trouble distinguishing kind-hearted Matt from cruel Daemon:

The scene wasn't supposed to be taking this long, it was meant to be quick, but the director has us repeating it a multitude of times. Something about it not being as good as it could be. I, honestly, couldn't care less how good it was as long as it was over.

My character, though not the most important, plays a role in how Daemon manages to steal the dragon egg and escape to Dragonstone. I was cast as Rhaenyra's younger sister, Seraena, who had quite the different relationship with her uncle. Where Rhaenyra saw freedom and future my character saw terror.

Daemon systematically terrorized Seraena as he viewed her to be unworthy of the Targaryen legacy, unworthy to be the rider of the vicious Cannibal.

Daemon would inflict pain upon her when the option was available, mentally terrorizing her even more-so. These abusive interactions were kept a secret from the rest of the family though, as she was not in the favor of her father or sister; she was alone.

I've been an actress for many years, and oftentimes get stuck in the mindset of my characters, but nothing as severe as with Seraena. I would only notice minor changes, usually just in my vocabulary and way of speaking, but I've become so engrained in this character that it's becoming harder for me to distinguish other actors from their characters. 

The effects are minimal with most others, but with Matt... His character is so cruel and violent that I just can't help it. If Matt raises his hand or makes any quick movements, I can't stop myself from flinching away, and I know he's noticed it as well. The concerned looks, the way his eyes linger when I step away from him, how I suddenly have nothing to say when he joins my conversation.

I try to work through this, write about it, acknowledge how what I'm doing isn't healthy, that I know Matt is a really sweet person in reality; but whenever I see him, I can't help this urge of wanting to turn and run away. How could he have such a sweet expression on his face one second, and then an empty glare the next?

_______

Fingers roughly grasp the wig upon my head, I can tell he's trying to be gentle, but he still has to make the interaction seem realistic.

He had asked me beforehand if I was alright with the physical contact the scene required, I had nodded a 'yes' even though the nausea reminded me constantly how I had wanted to say no.

The scene we were filming has Daemon battering me as a way to gain information pertaining to the dragon egg for Viserys' unborn child. It wasn't the most violent scene to have occurred between our characters, but I would say it was the most emotionally charged. 

Threats of violence slithering from Matt's lips far too smoothly for my mind to distinguish. His hand gripping my neck as his fingers laced through my hair and pulled my head back. He was right behind me, body scarily close as I was sandwiched between him the the stone wall of the castle. I can't remember what I was doing, body running on autopilot; I spoke, but I can't remember if they were my lines or not.

There was a tremor spiraling through my body, settling in my hands as they shakily grasped the hand that strangled my neck. Was I supposed to do that? Would they make me reshoot this scene? 

"Cut!" That resounding word echoes through my mind, lights being turned back on to illuminate the area. The many faces of the other cast members as well as the film crew entered my vision. It was a scene, it was a scene. 

The hands were removed as I turned to look at Matt, that cruel emptiness was gone, replaced by his calm face, eyes looking at me with worry.

"Hey, are you alright?" I couldn't respond, as I had already turned away and began to walk hurriedly towards the bathrooms. My heart felt uneasy, as though the blood being pumped wasn't enough, I felt like I was dying.

I slammed the door shut, leaning forward against the sink as I glared into the mirror.

'You're not her, you're not Seraena, you're Y/N L/N. He's not Daemon, he's Matt! He has never hurt you, this is all for a show.' 

I raise my hand up, touching my neck gently, as though the skin would tear at the slightest contact. The shaking of my hand bringing up an anger I was unsure how to handle. I couldn't contain it, my hands curling around my neck as I glare at my reflection.

My fingers dig into my skin as I drag them down, relishing in the discomfort I experience, but my hands still shake. I hit my wrists against the sink, ignoring the shooting pain as they still shake. Resorting to biting my hand, not letting go until I taste blood.

When I release, I let out an angered yell as the shaking continues. I place one hand against the sink and hit it repeatedly with the other, eliciting a crushing sensation. 

I had no intentions of stopping, but soon realize that my actions are being hindered. Two hands holding my own with a firm grip, halting their violent actions. I look in the mirror and see none other than Matt stood behind me, concern emanating heavily from him. He is speaking to me, I know this because his lips are moving, but what is he saying? What words does he think will help me?

I can't help the torture I'm experiencing, the tears building within my eyes as the feeling in my legs disappears; I would've collapsed had Matt not been there. My sobs were awful, the pain and confusion filling my mind as I was being held and comforted by a man that I could not distinguish.

His arms were strong as they wrapped around my torso, though they were soft, steady. He had lowered us down to the ground gently, cradling me to his chest as we sat on the bathroom floor. His whispers were calming, though I could not tell what was said. 

Was this man the devil? Was he who I feared yet longed for, the man that could free me from deception? Or am I all that I should fear? Do I make my prison with the words I learn, she who lives within porcelain walls that sees enemies in her own reflection?

In the Blink of a Crinkling Eye // Matt Smith

Word Count: 2.8K

Fem Journalist x Matt Smith

{This is truly just the longest meet cute because they’re my favorite thing to write}

Warnings: None besides cursing and use of Y/N; smut in part two

“Clover, no!” you chastise, rushing to grab the puppy who’d somehow escaped the holding pen your team built. You’d wanted to be a journalist for as long as you could remember but this wasn’t quite what you’d imagined yourself doing–wrangling puppies while waiting for your interview subjects to arrive. 

“She’s a clever one, isn’t she?” you hear a deep, amused voice say from behind you. 

“I wouldn’t give her too much credit, I’m sure Daisy and Willow helped her out” you reply, your eyes unexpectedly meeting curious hazel ones. “Is everything okay?”

His brows furrow, “Of course, why wouldn’t it be?”

You glance down at your phone, holding the wriggly puppy closer to your chest to avoid a kamikaze situation. “Because no one’s due on set for another half hour.” 

“I can leave if you’d like,” he offers, his smile turning uncertain. 

“No, of course not” you shake your head, offering your free hand to him, “I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” 

“Matt, lovely to meet you. I couldn’t resist coming out to get some extra time with these little guys” he grins, releasing your hand only to hold his palms up. “Clover, right?”

“Yes, she’s litter mates with Willow and Daisy,” you reply, pointing them out in their pen after handing Clover to him. “And then there’s Leo, Frankie, and Gertrude. They’re all from different litters, the last of their siblings in the shelter.”

“Poor little things” Matt coos, gently placing Clover back where she belongs before reaching down to grab one of the strays.

“Wait, no not her” you jump in, scooping Gertrude into your arms before Matt can. 

“Is she nippy or something?” he asks, head quirking in confusion. 

“No, I think I might be taking her home today. I wouldn’t want you to get too attached.” 

Matt throws his head back in laughter, “Hazards of the job I suppose?”

“Kind of” you shrug, gently stroking Gertrude’s soft fur. “My roommate’s been begging for a pet for months now and little Trudy here is just too sweet.” Seemingly in response, the little dog lifts her head to briefly lick your chin before settling in for a nap in your arms. 

“Now that is too precious,” Matt says, smiling softly and retrieving his phone from his pocket. “Want me to take a photo?” 

“I’m sure I look a mess, I’ve been running around all morning” you laugh.

“Nonsense, you look great. Trust me, you’ll want this–smile!” he cheers and you laugh looking into the camera. “Gorgeous” he compliments and you ignore the swoop of your stomach. 

“Let me see” you request, moving to his side as he angles his screen towards you. You’re pleasantly surprised to see that while you look flushed from running around, your hair and makeup have miraculously stayed in place. “Aw, doesn’t she look too cute? All tuckered out already.” 

“What’s your number? I can forward you this if you’d like” he offers and you do something you’ve never done before–flirt with a guest.

“If you wanted my number you could’ve just asked from the get go” you tease, eyes flicking up to meet his.

His smile curls up higher on one side, “Well you see, now I’ll have your number and this beautiful photo for your contact.”

“Well played then” you reply, listing off your number for him. You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket but don't move from his side. 

“How long have you been working with Buzzfeed?” he questions, turning to face you directly. 

“A little over a year, it’s certainly a unique place to have landed.” 

“You don’t like it” he replies instantly and your eyes widen.

“I didn’t say that…”

“But it’s what you mean, no?” he pushes, not breaking eye contact. 

“Why, are you aiming to take my job?” 

He chuckles and shakes his head, not offering you a way out except to answer the question. 

“I’m a writer. So, ideally one of my books or screenplays end up in the right hands. Or, if not, I’d really like to do print work. Spending lots of time with someone, or a group of someones, and writing a more in depth piece about their process, the work, whatever. Like, we got the screener for the first half of this season, right? You know how many questions I want to ask about the cinematography or an acting choice, or a certain shot? Instead, we have these cutesy questions prepared.” 

That makes him laugh but you feel vulnerable, exposed after offering so much to a stranger, especially one you’re meeting at work. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t professional of me. I really do appreciate this job.” 

“Hey, no apologies. I’m the one that asked, aren’t I? I appreciate your honesty.”

You nod, a slightly awkward silence descending between you. Matt breaks it by leaning down to pick up Leo who promptly bites his finger. 

“Shit, are you okay?” you ask, biting your lips to repress the laugh bubbling up in your chest. Matt’s face is the portrait of shock and outrage even though you can tell Leo’s teeth barely broke his skin. 

“I think I’m alright” he replies, seriously inspecting his finger and a little giggle escapes your mouth. His eyes leap up to yours and his frown deepens at the amusement he sees on your face. “Well, go on then.”

At his begrudging permission, you burst into laughter settling a now grumpy Gertrude into her pen. You make your way back to where the first aid kit is, your sides turning sore from laughter that won’t cease. You wave Matt over and he morosely makes his way to you, plopping down in the seat you direct him towards. 

“I’m sorry” you offer as you sit opposite him, unzipping the bag. “It’s really not even that funny but now I just have the giggles.” 

“You’re forgiven, if only because your laugh is the most joyous sound I’ve heard all day.”

His compliment does what his annoyance couldn’t–rips the laughter from your throat. You gaze into his eyes, expecting to see jest but find none. “That’s kind of you.”

“It’s the truth.”

A different kind of tension simmers in this silence. “May I?” you request, reaching for him. His calloused hand lands in yours and you lean closer, inspecting the tiny cut on his pointer finger. You pull an alcohol wipe from the kit and wrap it as gently as you can around his cut before quickly replacing it with a bandage. “Good as new.” 

“You could look into nursing you know” he responds gently and you meet his intense gaze. The moment seems to stretch eternally with you lost in the green and brown shades of his eyes. A door slams open, jarring  you two apart and making you realize you’d been holding onto his hand just as it slips away. 

“Looks like it’s show time” you force a smile as you stand. “Think you can manage with this grievous injury?”

He returns your smile, nodding, “I think so but have the medics on standby just in case.” 

***

Luckily, the interview goes smoothly, jokes being made all around at Matt’s injury and another round unleashing when he’s nipped again while filming. As you drive home, Gertrude beside you, you work to convince yourself you’d been imagining things. That Matt had simply been friendly and naturally charismatic, not that there’d been any kind of spark. And that he most definitely hadn't lingered after you’d thanked him and his castmates, eyes boring into your back, before finally following them out onto the New York City streets. And you certainly weren’t still lost in those thoughts as you placed the wiggly puppy in your roommate, Sage’s, arms. 

“She’s perfect, isn’t she?” 

“She almost got swept up by Matt Smith” you joke and her eyes widen.

“I forgot that was today, how was it?”

“Good, everything went smoothly.” 

“...but?” 

“But what?” 

“But why does your face look like that?”

“Fuck you, it was a long day.” 

“Bullshit” she argues and you glare at her. “I’ll wait.”

“I was just deluding myself that’s all.” She waits expectantly and you sigh, throwing up your hands. “I had myself half convinced that Matt Smith tried to sweep me up.” 

“Tell me everything.” 

And you would have, if your phone didn’t buzz in your pocket. Sage pointedly rolls her eyes as you pause the conversation to check your phone just in case it’s a work issue. Your heart drops which must’ve reflected on your face because she’s beside you, reading over your shoulder, a second later.

Hi it’s Matt

Well, you know that obviously. 

I mean to ask, are you free tonight? 

“Tell me everything right the fuck now Y/N/N or I swear to God.” You quickly fill her in, all while attempting to decide what to do. “Just answer, see why he’s asking.”

“Wouldn’t it be a conflict of interest?”

The look Sage shoots you could melt steel, “Respectfully, you primarily do puppy interviews at Buzzfeed. Answer him.” You couldn’t argue with her logic even though you wanted to.

I just got home but have nothing in the books. Why do you ask?

Would you want to meet with us at a pub near our hotel? Everyone loved working with you. 

Who’s everyone? 

You do love questions, don’t you? 

Emboldened by having a screen between you, you allow him to see you’d read the message on What’s App but don’t type a reply. Within a moment, he begins typing again:

All of us, but especially me. 

One condition

Anything. 

I can ask you about the Harrenhal sequences

Off the record of course

That’s all? You shouldn’t be thinking so small. 

I want to make sure I have you in my thrall a bit more before asking for your banking information. 

Can we compromise with drinks on me?

Text me the place and time and I’ll see if I can make it

***

“I knew you were bullshitting us.” Fabien cackles from beside Matt, who rolls his eyes for what feels like the hundredth time already tonight.

“Lay off him, Fabs, he’s about to be stood up after all” Olivia replies, doing a terrible job of hiding her own laughter. 

“It’s only half past. She’s a New Yorker, it’d have been weird if she showed up exactly at 9…maybe she’s nervous?” Emma offers. 

“What, about meeting up with the Great Matthew Smith for drinks?” Fabien retorts and even Emma can’t fight their smile at his expense. 

“Thank god I have you lot to keep me humble” Matt grumbles, getting up and stalking over to the bar to get another round. He sighs to himself, scrubbing his hands down his face as he waits for the bartender to mix his drink. 

He knew it had been a bad idea to text you. You were simply being professional and he’d unfairly pushed you into meeting up for a drink. It had been Emma’s idea to have the whole group there so it felt less like a date, sensing his unease about asking you out directly. Their advice was much more helpful than Fabien’s goading and Olivia enthusiastically endorsed Emma’s plan if only to be able to snoop.

He grabs his drink and begins heading back to the booth when your distinctive laughter makes his steps briefly falter. Nerves flood his system and he rolls his eyes at himself. You're acting like a schoolboy, he chastises but he can’t help himself. He feels drawn to you in a way he hasn’t felt to anyone else in a long, long time. As he rounds the corner, his eyes find yours immediately. Unsurprisingly, his friends have placed you right beside his vacant spot which he is both grateful for and exacerbated by–again, so secondary school of them all. 

“Hey, you made it!” he exclaims as he sits beside you. 

“I’m sorry I’m a bit late, Sage took far too long at the petstore getting Miss Trudy’s supplies. Oh, wait, how’d you know I love vodka crans? What a gentleman” you grin, plucking the drink from his hands and taking a deep sip. 

“Just another thing we have in common, it appears.” 

“In addition to?” 

“Our love of dogs, of course.”

“Ah, if only the dogs loved him back” Olivia goads and you let loose another glorious giggle. 

“How are your wounds doing?” you tease, eyes sparkling in the dim light. 

“Fine for now but I may need a skilled medic later to assist with bandage changes.”

“I suppose I could help if you can’t find anyone with the proper training.” 

“Very generous of you, Y/N.” 

“I aim to serve. Also, here, I wouldn’t want to actually steal your whole drink” you acquiesced, sliding the drink into his waiting hand. He lifts the glass to his mouth, taking a long sip while your eyes bore into his. You have such an unflinching way of appraising people, remaining present even while nothing’s being said, and he’s entranced by this. 

“I don’t mind sharing,” he replies quietly, gently grasping your hand and easing the glass back into it. He doesn’t release your hand or your gaze and, for once, his friends around the table are silent which he would’ve previously believed to be impossible. He faintly hears Emma and Olivia excusing themselves to the restroom as Fabien chugs his beer just to go refill it. 

“We really cleared the table, huh?” Your faint words barely reach him despite your closeness. 

“All the better if you ask me” he replies, heart thumping at the grin his comment earns. 

“Do you do this often?” you ask, head tilting and eyes sharp. 

“Do what?”

“Charm women you meet in your line of work?” 

He can’t fight the smile that splits his face–he could banter with you for eternity, he fears. “No, of course not. I have a reputation to uphold after all.” 

“What reputation?”

“Are you implying my gentlemanly reputation doesn’t proceed me?”

“Are you implying you’re of such stature I looked into you before today?” 

“I’d assumed you were good at your job but you can correct me if I’m wrong.” 

“I am excellent at my job” you retort, eyes narrowing dangerously. 

“Well, then what’s my reputation?”

“You’re a classic Scorpio.”

“What?” he asks, genuinely perplexed. He notes the smirk that quirks your lips–you’d intended to throw him off his game. Well played, then.

“Scorpios are charming, easily pulling people into their orbit. But they also tend to be deep thinkers who hide behind that charisma to keep everyone at a distance despite being surrounded by people.” 

He could hardly catch his breath–have you truly seen through him so easily? “Meaning?”

“Meaning that despite being in this business for decades, not much is actually known about you. Glowing comments from everyone who’s ever worked with you, surface level reporting on a few previous public relationships, but nothing of much substance despite the countless interviews and press junkets you’ve done over the years.” 

“Does that bother you?”

“No, it intrigues me. But it also makes me weary.” 

“Why’s that?” he questions, heart sinking. 

“I may not be doing groundbreaking work right now but I value my career. So much of this business, and publishing, is based on word of mouth, having people speak well of you from previous projects. I’d hate to think this was a fun game for you when it could ruin my credibility.” 

He chuckles to himself and your eyes flash. “They had to convince me to ask you out.”

“What?” you recoil at his words and he desperately wants to pull you back to him.

“I knew from our conversation earlier today you have ambitions and I’d never want to come between you and them. You’re insightful and have a sharp mind, I’m sure your writing reflects that. But they convinced me I was just giving myself an out so I wouldn’t have to risk your rejection.”

Your head tilts at his words, eyes appraising him in a way that lays him bare before you. “I think you were right,” you acknowledge. “But so were they.” 

He couldn't tear himself away from you if he tried. He can only guess what’s going on in your head but your eyes reveal how countless thoughts are flowing behind them, calculations being drawn up, quick decisions being made. 

“I love this song” you say quietly, throwing back all but a swallow of your shared drink, which you then offer to him. “Dance with me?”

He holds your gaze as he slowly consumes the last bits of vodka before extending his hand. “It would be my pleasure.”

So, I clearly am incapable of writing a brief meet cute but I can’t help myself. I have loads of ideas where this could go so any feedback would be much appreciated! I’ve never written for actors before but I hope y’all enjoyed 🫶🏻

Hey can I ask for a smutish fluffish matt smith fic where where they are filming their sex scene but she accidentally says Matt instead of Daemon and the directors like “not again 😒 start from the top”

I'm Into It

Matt Smith x Actress!Reader (lowkey Daemon x Reader lol)

Summary: You were finally getting to live out your fantasies of having Matt around you in that pretty blonde wig, but at what cost?

Word Count: >600

Warnings: fem!reader, established relationship, they be filming a sex scene for hotd, crackfic, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: Lol this was so much fun to write it's so meta i love it. I hope you like it nonnie <3 and since technically this is daemon related imma tag yallz @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony also im tagging @pearlstiare since this lovely dear seemed to enjoy my matt smith fic lol hehe i made another matt fic lol "Dark Kiss"

I was pressed against the wall, a blade to my neck, an arm pressed by my ribcage, pushing me flush against the wall.

I heaved, "do it," I spoke as the blade was pressed closer to my chin, "slit my throat," I chortled, "and then you'll realize just how foolish that decision was after you've spilt my blood."

"Demented hag," Daemon quips, pressing his arm deeper into me.

I lean into him, the blade on my neck presses deeper. I brush my nose against his, "hush, prince," I lick his lips, "we both know you don't think that."

Daemon throws his blade to the side and flips me over, pressing my chest and face roughly against the wall, one arm pushed behind my back. He breathes jaggedly against my neck, "tell me where you hid it."

"Make me," I huff, "you know how," I chuckle, "you know what I want from you."

I wince when he shoves me. I break into another chuckle, "I'll take it however you want to give it, pretty boy."

"Last chance," he warns, "while I'm being nice."

I hum, "I don't want you to be nice. I want you to ruin me."

I smile when he does not reply. I strain my neck trying to look back at him, "dragon lost his fire?"

All at once, I am released and turn back to deviously eye the prince. I bite my lip when he begins to undo his breeches, "you will regret it if you do not obey me."

My heart jumps to my throat at his words. I fall against the wall as he steps forward. I reach out to him as he bunches my skirt up.

I lean against his forehead and sigh when he places his hands on my hips. I raise my leg up to his side and pull him with me as I shift back. I steal a kiss from him and nip at his lower lip when he evades me. When he takes his hand underneath my thigh, I instinctively call out his name.

That was my mistake.

Instead of calling Daemon, I say Matt.

Matt pulls his head back upon hearing his name. He breaks into an airy chuckle, "baby," he coos, leaning into me, hiding his face in the crook of my neck, pecking the area quickly.

My eyes go wide and I slap my hand on my mouth, looking out to the director and the rest of the crew when I realize my mistake.

Matt pulls away from me, laughing, releasing his hold on my leg to look past the camera. He turns back to me, as I profusely begin to apologize under my breath. He is in a fit of giggles when he seals me into a tight embrace, kissing my shoulder affectionately.

"I am so sorry," I mutter in a guilty tone as I am lifted off my feet by the laughing Matt.

"I'm not," he says, looking out to the camera. He points, "you caught that, right?" He giggles, "I'm going to need a copy of all of these outtakes."

I feel blood rise up my neck, "Matthew, please."

"What?" he turns to me, "my male ego is thriving, lovie. What is this, the tenth time?"

"No!" I call, "... I think only five."

There is a chorus of laughs; someone corrects me by saying it's the seventh.

Matt kisses me cheek, "I'm proud of you, babe."

"Matt, please," the director calls, "stop being distracting."

The entire set breaks into a fit of laughs. I burn with embarrassment, wanting nothing but to be swallowed by the ground, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," I turn to Matt and grab his face, "Daemon. Daemon. Daemon."

Matt grins, "Matt. Matt. Matt."

"Stop!" I warn, pulling away from him as I repeat my mantra, "Daemon, Daemon, Daemon."

"Rouge Prince. Dashingly handsome," Matt rubs his nose. He looks at the director, "from the top then?" He chuckles under his breath, "that's what she said."

"Stop!" I whine.

"Oh, alright," he smirks, turning to me, "do me a favor and mess up again. For me?"

"Stop!" I call out the same time as the director.

lol you wanna read another matt smith fic?