#newt scamander x male reader fanfic

[beautifulblooms]

Newt Scamander Headcanons (meeting him and falling in love, Male!Hogwarts! student edition)

So I finally had an idea and time to write, here's some headcanons I managed to scrounge together before the lack of motivation steals my ideas. This is a masc-aligned reader but no specific pronouns are used, I hope you all enjoy this!

CIS Women and Female Aligned people, please DNI, this story and all of my others are for non-binary, masculine-aligned, and male readers!

God, he’s adorable

Legit the sweetest person ever

And he absolutely loves you

He is quite utterly smitten with you

(For the sake of plot-) 

He met you at Hogwarts and has damn near been hooked since day one

During the sorting ceremony, hearing his name you couldn’t help but giggle

I mean, Newt is not exactly a common name, nor is the last name Scamander

But it was a rather respected name at Hogwarts given his older brother’s record as a prefect

For the entirety of your first year, you two were in every class together

Not just potions or beasts together

Every

Single

Class

Potions, beasts, defense against the dark arts, flying, magic history, herbology, charms, astronomy, and even transfiguration together

He would always pay the most attention in beasts and defense against the dark arts

While you could only pay attention to him

He always got so excited during beasts when the professor would pull out a new creature for everyone to meet and learn to take care of

And he was very good with them that the professor often gave extra points to Hufflepuff because they liked Newt so much

You were okay with beasts, nowhere as good as Newt but good enough for straight A’s in the class

Growing up together it was almost inevitable that you two fell for one another

Spending every class together in your first year, then more time outside of classes the next several

As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t get the courage to ask you out

Any time he’d try he’d just get too nervous and start glancing at his feet and the walls before brushing it off

You of course were not going to give up on getting this man

Any time you had the opportunity, you’d flirt with him

It was always adorable how red his cheeks and ears would go when he’d realize what you were saying

Sometime in your 6th year there, you managed to get him to walk with you to the lake

Precisely one of the old Willows near it

“Newt, are you alright? You look a bit red in the face”

“Oh, um, yes I’m fine, just a bit cold out today, and I forgot my scarf in the dormitory”

“Here, have mine, you clearly need it more than I do” 

He didn’t even get a chance to protest before you wrapped it around his neck and made sure it was snug

“There we go, nice and warm”

He ducked his head into the scarf to “hide” his blush, although he did a poor job of it

“Thanks…why did you ask me to join you at the lake, it’s far too cold to go swimming”

Standing beside the tree you took a deep breath

“Well, I…I wanted to ask you something Newt”

He nodded his head and hummed in acknowledgment

“We’ve known each other since our first year, and you’ve always been a wonderful friend to me, but, I have realized that I like you more than just a friend… and I was wondering if you maybe wanted to be my boyfriend..”

He stood there wide-eyed and shocked, he never expected you to reciprocate his feelings, let alone confess first

However, his reaction made you start to think he didn’t like you back and you immediately began to back-peddle the conversation

“Well of course you don’t have to say yes and if you’re uncomfortable knowing that and being friends with a queer like me you can leave and never look back, only makes sen-”

He cut you off before you could continue rambling by pulling your face to his and kissing you

Now it was your turn to be shocked

Unsure of what to do, New pulled back and started to pull away from you, worried he went too far

Only to get pulled back in seconds when you processed what was going on, kissing him back and much better this time

From that day forward, you two somehow became even more inseparable

I’m sure Theseus was tired of hearing about how much Newt loved you and missed you by the end of the summer between your 6th and 7th year

Good thing that he didn’t have to go back and deal with it all in person

Some of those Hufflepuff students have seen much more than they bargained for

[snowyslytherinowl]

Most Crushed on Male Harry Potter Characters: A Study (Version 1)

I was wondering what male characters from Harry Potter (including Hogwarts Legacy and Fantastic Beasts) are the most crushed on. When I couldn’t find anything online that answered my question, I decided to take it into my own hands and research it for myself. I looked at reader-insert fanfics and thirst trap videos on 4 websites (AO3, Tumblr, Wattpad, and TikTok) since I think it’s the most effective way of seeing how many people want to be the focus of a Harry Potter boy’s affection. Here are the results as of August 6, 2023! 

Note: I researched other characters (ex. Matteo Riddle, Charlie Weasley) that weren’t listed here, but some of them didn’t make the cut on any website. I’ve also never seen Fantastic Beasts or played/watched videos of Hogwarts Legacy, so it’s possible that I missed loved characters from those parts of the Harry Potter universe. 

The second version of this study is now out! You can find it here!

*GIF isn't mine

AO3

What I did: I researched how many works are under “(male character)/reader” and “(male character)/you.” The number of works under these tags differed, so the number in parentheses is the higher number of works between those 2 tags. I only counted pairings with at least 300 works.

Results:

Draco Malfoy (1,414 works)

Severus Snape (1,013 works) 

Sirius Black (890 works)

Remus Lupin (817 works) 

Sebastian Sallow (710 works) 

Fred Weasley (698 works) 

George Weasley (627 works)

Harry Potter (401 works) 

James Potter (332 works) 

Newt Scamander (326 works) 

Tom Riddle/Voldemort (316 works) 

Ominis Gaunt (310 works)

Potential problems: I think the AO3 results are the most accurate since for the most part, all reader-insert works are under only 1 name of the character, not something like “Snape/reader” and then “Severus Snape/reader.” However, I did notice that there were sometimes works with 2 characters where 1 character had a relationship with the character, while the other character was in a loveless arranged marriage or some sort of non-con relationship that the author didn’t mean to romanticize. 

TUMBLR

What I did: I researched “(male character) x reader,” “(male character) x you,” and “(male character) x y/n.” The number of followers under these tags sometimes differed, so I recorded the highest number of followers between the 3 tags. I only counted characters that had a reader-insert tag with at least 2k followers. Some characters are tied because Tumblr only shows followers in thousands, not the specific number. 

Results:

Draco Malfoy (13k followers) 

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin (11k followers)

Fred Weasley and James Potter (8k followers)

Newt Scamander and George Weasley (6k followers)

Regulus Black and Tom Riddle (5k followers)

Cedric Diggory and Severus Snape (4k followers)

Theodore Nott and Sebastian Sallow (3k followers)

Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Ominis Gaunt (2k followers)

Potential problems: Because Tumblr doesn’t have a set tag for reader-insert works, I had to look up characters under multiple names, like “Remus Lupin x reader” and “Lupin x reader.” I had to exclude Harry’s tags because a lot of the works under those tags were mixed with reader-inserts or other characters. Also, there are probably some thirst photos/GIFs on Tumblr for male characters that aren’t tagged as a reader-insert. 

WATTPAD

What I did: I researched “(male character) x reader,” (male character) x you, and (male character) x y/n. The number of results under these tags sometimes differed, so I recorded the highest number of results between the 3 tags. I only counted characters that had a reader-insert tag with at least 10k results. Some characters are tied because Wattpad doesn’t show the exact number of results. 

Results:

Draco Malfoy (68.5k results) 

Neville Longbottom (53.4k results)

Newt Scamander (50.9k results)

Cedric Diggory (49.3k results) 

Ominis Gaunt (37.5k results) 

Ron Weasley (26.3k results) 

Remus Lupin (19.4k results) 

Sirius Black and James Potter (18.9k results) 

Severus Snape (18.4k results) 

Fred Weasley (15.9k results)

George Weasley (12.8k results)

Theodore Nott (11k results) 

Tom Riddle (10.7k results)

Potential problems: I don’t think these results are very accurate. Because Tumblr doesn’t have a set tag for reader-insert works, I had to look up characters under multiple names, like Remus Lupin x reader and Lupin x reader. I had to exclude Harry again because his results pulled up results for other characters. Similarly, searches for other characters pulled up reader-insert stories written only for a different character. 

TIKTOK

What I did: I looked up “(male character) thirst” on TikTok and filtered the results to show videos in order of highest number of likes to least number of likes. The first video wasn’t necessarily a thirst video of that character, so I had to manually search for the thirst video with the highest number of likes. I only recorded characters where their thirst video with the highest number of likes had at least 10k likes. Some are tied because the same video covered multiple characters. 

Results:

Harry Potter (3m likes)

Newt Scamander (447.6k likes)

Neville Longbottom (295.4k likes)

Dean Thomas (206.9k likes)

Cedric Diggory (131.6k likes)

Fred, Ron, George, and Bill Weasley (123.8k likes)

Draco Malfoy (91.6k likes)

Severus Snape (57.5k likes)

Remus Lupin (21.4k likes )

Lucius Malfoy (21k likes)

Sirius Black and James Potter (17.6k likes)

Potential problems: There were so many problems with finding videos on TikTok that romanticized the character, so I would take the TikTok results with a grain of salt. It was really frustrating to research on TikTok LMAO. I originally just looked up videos with the name of the character, but it took forever to find a thirst video and it was sometimes difficult to tell if it was an actual thirst. For example, there were some edits of Snape that showed him as a kid and a grown-up and it wasn’t clear if the creator was romanticizing him. For this reason, I know that the rankings I listed are most likely inaccurate because there are definitely thirst videos of characters that weren’t labeled as thirst videos. Also, for the results I gave for Harry, I looked up “Harry Potter thirst” and chose the video that @miwallbank duetted and had the most likes. 

COMBINING THE NUMBERS 

For accuracy reasons, I left out the numbers of results from TikTok because I think that my research was inaccurate for the most part. 

Draco Malfoy (approximately 82,914 admirers)

Newt Scamander (approximately 57,226 admirers)

Neville Longbottom (approximately 55,400 admirers)

Cedric Diggory (approximately 53,300 admirers)

Ominis Gaunt (approximately 39,810 admirers)

Remus Lupin (approximately 31,217 admirers)

Sirius Black (approximately 30,790 admirers)

Ron Weasley (approximately 28,300 admirers)

James Potter (approximately 27,232 admirers)

Fred Weasley (approximately 24,598 admirers)

Severus Snape (approximately 23,413 admirers)

George Weasley (approximately 19,427 admirers)

Theodore Nott (approximately 14,000 admirers)

Tom Riddle (approximately 5,316 admirers)

Regulus Black (approximately 5,000 admirers)

Sebastian Sallow (approximately 3,710 admirers)

Do I think these final results are accurate? Most likely not, so take the final results with a grain of salt. Also, these results aren’t necessarily indicative of how much a character is crushed on since there are probably plenty of people who don’t write fanfiction or follow tags on their loved character. I might do this again, but this is what I have for now. Thanks for reading!

[fantastic-fanfic-beasts]

It Just Feels Right

Newt Scamander x Male Reader ~ Oneshot, as requested by anon

-      -      -

Warm water caresses your bare skin, and it reminds you of the way that he used to hold you when he first met you. Letting your head rest against the edge of the bathtub, you close your eyes and remember.

He had run into you (literally) when both of you were first years. Neither of you were the most popular, so you quickly became fast friends. The moment you set eyes on him you knew that you were going to fall for him. Unfortunately there was competition - Leta Lestrange. To top it all off, you didn’t even know if he was interested in other men. And you weren’t going to take a chance and wreck the close relationship you had with him as a friend.

After Hogwarts you fell out of touch with Newt. For all you knew he had ended up marrying Leta. Eventually your path led you into the Dark Arts. You couldn’t bring yourself to use it for ‘evil’, but you definitely found it more effective and interesting than the more… Legal magic. Of course it didn’t take long for the Ministry to find out about this, and so you were brought to only a few months ago - hiding out somewhere in Wales. You finally broke down and wrote to Newt, the only contact you had left that you felt you could trust. Honestly you hadn’t expected a letter back; it shocked you when you received a rather bedraggled owl in return, bearing an offer for you to join him in New York. After reading it you had sunk to the ground, clutching the tattered paper to your chest. Your heart fluttered, and you struggled to remind yourself that he didn’t think of you as anything except a friend. The fact that he invited you to stay with him meant nothing more than that he was as kind as he had always been. What an amazing soul he always had…

And so you were here. After all this time… You realized that you were smiling. Shaking yourself out of your reminiscence, you couldn’t stop yourself from startling when you heard the door of the small apartment creaking open.

“Newt, is that you?” You hurriedly clambered out of the tub, wrapping a bathrobe around yourself.

There wasn’t any response, but you could hear someone sinking down onto the small couch across from the door.

“Hey, is something wrong?” You frowned, seeing Newt looking smaller than you had ever seen him, his head buried in his hands. Making your way over and sitting beside him you wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer.

He sighed deeply. “N-no, I’m just… I…”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it unless you don’t want to. Should I call Tina and tell her not to come over this afternoon?”

“She’s already on the way, it’s over. I mean, there’s no point. It’s fine.” He waved a hand dismissively.

“You don’t sound like yourself, Newt. I’m worried about you.” You said bluntly. “If there’s something bothering you, you can tell me. You can tell me anything.” I love you. You choked the thought back. It just felt so natural to say. But you couldn’t.

He turned his face to look at you, and his eyes seemed to burn. A light flush rested across his cheeks, and his gaze met yours with an intensity you weren’t prepared for. You’d never seen him like this - usually he was more timid, almost awkward in social situations. Your breath left your body in a sharp exhale. You were so close to him… Your breathing ruffled his messy bangs ever so slightly. You couldn’t look away.

Newt leaned in closer. “Listen, I - I don’t know if you feel the same, so. I’m just gonna do it. I’ve thought about it for a, for a long time now.”

All you could do was nod, and close your eyes. A warmth seemed to fill your body, and your heart felt like it was on fire. “Yes…”

His lips met yours. They were soft, chapped ever so slightly. The kiss was awkward, and you could feel the nervousness and tension radiating off of him. He’s never done this before, the thought occurred to you, and you had to stop yourself from moaning. 

Pulling back only for a moment to take a breath, you dove in again. Leading the kiss, you drew him in against your bare chest - the bathrobe falling open. Reaching up and tangling your fingers in his hair, you relished the feeling of his body completely pliable beneath your hands. There was no sense of time passing, there was only the smell, the feel, the reality of Newt in your arms. And he was kissing you back.

The door of the apartment opened so silently (for once) that neither of you noticed until you heard Tina’s soft gasp. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I’ll just be going now!” She hurriedly backed out, shock battling with a look of knowing in her eyes.

You let your eyes slide shut again, resting your forehead against Newt’s. He had looked more embarrassed than he had ever in his entire life, but what did it matter?

“I never thought I’d say this, but I think. I think I love you.” Newt said quietly.

Your heart leaped. “I love you too.” And you were finally content. The world will just have to deal with it.

[delicrieux]

a secret history // iv.

PAIRING: albus x m!reader x newt, some theseus x reader again warnings: swearing, your ideal image of hogwarts crumbling before your eyes, sexual content summary: (name) is a very diligent student and will stop at nothing to get what he desires

a/n:  who knew dark academia was difficult to write?! donna tartt and m.l. rio make it look effortless ugh QUEENS!!! i know w my writing i move at literal sloth pace but i can’t help it:(

feedback is always appreciated xoxo

masterlist | support me |  back  | next.

ACT II

SCENE I

At Hogwarts there is a room for anything one may desire. The castle needs people to survive; without them, is merely an empty shell of a former being. The spaces grow and disappear and regrow again upon command; the infinity of it is fascinating and worth exploring, alone or not. Yet some rooms are fixed – they do not wander, nor do they suddenly vanish into smoke – namely the ones that are created by wizards. One of such wondrous areas contains a swimming pool, it being the least magical thing on the grounds.

The air is polluted with chlorine; crystal blue water is poured over pale slippery tiles once students go in and out of it. Council had insisted that Hogwarts’ students especially hardly have any exercise. How can one have a healthy mind when their body is lacking? Yes, there is Quidditch, ruthless and difficult and needing intense endurance, but how one may build it if there are no easier ways to train? Running and flying can only get one that far. For that reason, physical education was added to the curriculum. Many students met this with groans of protests. Newton Scamander was no different from them, full to the brim with dread at the mere prospect of wearing nothing but a black tank and black shorts clinging to his petit form while he swims in cold water.

The Coach’s whistle blows and they all line up by the pool, its depths seemingly endless the harder Newt stares at it. The water is unmoving; from outside the windows a lifeless morning greats them with bleak, ghastly light. His fellow housemates mix with the joining house – Slytherin today, Gryffindor next week – and whisper amongst themselves. Newton already feels as if he is drowning. The Coach starts to speak, his accent thick and Irish and Newton faintly hears (Name)’s serpent like hiss about one thing or another. It is a voice that cannot be mistaken for anyone else. With longing, or perhaps out of desperate habit, Newton tilts his head to the side of the voice, catching (Name) engaged in eager conversation with Vasnev Tarasovich. The two of them make quite a comedic pair: (Name), tall, lanky, and of theatrical expression, jittering next to a somewhat stone-faced, bulky, and short Vasnev. Newton quickly looks away before he is spotted.

Out of swimming, or standing half-naked, Newton dreaded seeing (Name) the most. He could not look at him the same way after the Gala. But for different reasons, ones he is yet unable to name, nor admit.

The smell is repugnant. It reminds him of a few summer back, when (Name) was still but an apparition, not entirely real, belonging to a different frame of reality. It was evening and the sky was gold-orange and delightful, the summer heat clinging to his skin, humid, and choking with the sweet scent of roses. The Scamander summer home was envied by many, it being idyllic, a visage of soft colours Monet no doubt painted. A lake was nearby, which’s water was always warm; the grass was cut; the garden was crowded with flowers; his mother’s homemade lemonade was the staple of summer holiday: citrusy, sugary, it touched the very core of the soul.

And Newt sat hidden in the rosebushes, their thorns picking at his side with the same force their red petals caressed the sides of his flushed face. Theseus and that boy from school, (Name) (Lastname), sat lounged by the lake with nothing but swim shorts. It was highly improper. Newton figured that is why (Lastname) did not show up since their mother left, making Newton and his brother the only occupants for the day. (Lastname) brought a bottle of something bubbly and the two of them drank it the same way their bodies drank the rays of the sun. It was the first and only time Newton saw Theseus smoke a cigarette - his face was red and he was coughing and (Name) did nothing but laugh and drink and mock him.

Newton’s mind drifted, anxious to get out. He assumed Theseus figured Newton was locked in his room, too uncomfortable with a guest to show himself. And that is all true, except Newt found the day much too pleasant to pass up and found a comfortable spot by the roses, in the shade, in the buzz of honeybees and natures alluring songs. But then he heard a different, somewhat familiar voice and grasped his books, practically falling into the bushes, yelping and hissing as the thorns pierced his skin. Now he was stuck, with nothing to do but watch two boys enjoy their summer holiday. He felt as if an intruder.

(Name) stood up and stretched and Theseus muttered something about lemonade and rushed back into the house with an uneven step. (Name) looked around, tall, a bit burned from tanning, his face strangely focused for his slouched stance. He looked so beautiful it terrified Newton.

Theseus appeared again with two glasses and ice clinking within them. He said some joke and (Name) laughed again. Then, he slung his arm over his shoulder, continuing to talk and the two boys were close in an amiable way. Or so it appeared. Newton did not entirely focus on that, rather it is the height difference that allured him. (Name) was younger, though much taller, and it appeared a bit silly having to position his body in such a way to fit Theseus’ grip. And his skin looked boyish soft, though his face already showed sharp signs of adolescence. But his knees were bruised (an alarming observation Newt noticed time and time again as years went by, though how or why he could never place) and for someone so graceful and lean, Newt could not imagine (Name) being so clumsy.

The heat was scorching and the scent or roses made his eyes water. (Name) tapped his brother’s hand and pulled from his grip, grabbing his wrist and yanking him into the water. The two boys fell with booming laughs and splashes. The view was then obscured by an old oak and Newt figured now was as good of a time as any to run back into his room and never speak of this to anyone ever again.

He is not sure why that memory resurfaced all of the sudden, yet it did, and it was so vivid it frightened him. He is suddenly back in the cool, wet room and acutely aware of all eyes on him, the Coach’s expectant stare and the snickering group of boys watching him like hawks. He is quickly pushed to the peer by strong hands, and the last thing he sees before being plunged into water is his own mortified reflection on its rippling surface.

Newton was never a good swimmer. And when lacking the proper preparation he is even worse, catatonic in water, it swallows him up completely, it is claustrophobic and his heart beats wildly. Chlorine fills his mouth and desperately he tries to swim up to catch his breath, but his hands cramp up and panic sets his mind ablaze.

It’s that repulsive smell of roses that lingers in his mind when his eyes fall scarily shut, body heaving with shivers. The summer day returns as a mirage of the romantic past. Though in this version, the tall, stretching boys notices the one hiding in the rosebushes and calls his name in a joyful exclamation. The last thing his mind conjures is playful, sunlit (colour) eyes and then…

He is lurched back to reality painfully and gasping for breath, as if being born all over again. He opens his wild green eyes and everything is blurry and staggers and he is shaking and coughing and someone is holding his shoulders and trying to snap him out of it. In the buzzing of his mind he hears the Coach shout “Space! Give him some space! Let him breath!” and those arms are pulled off of him and he slowly sits up, his nose and throat burning from the alien water stuck within it.

A peculiar scene unfolds around him. He is sprawled on the tiles, red faced and trembling from the cold, as his schoolmates surround him and watch as if it was an exotic play. He is drenched; his hair sticks to the sides of his face like seaweed.. He slowly turns his head, failing to hear the curious mutters of students – they are hardly concerned for his wellbeing, rather more intrigued to the conclusion of this act – and his eyes finally land on (Name) who is held by Vasnev, dripping with water, panting, eyes wild with raw worry. It shocks Newton more than almost drowning.

“Can you stand, son?” The Coach inquires, extending his hand. Newt regards it as if an unfamiliar object, lastly clasping his frail hands around his and being yanked onto his feet. He sways in place, and the Coach lands a reassuring, comforting hand on his shoulders, “Go change. You’re dismissed for today. When you’re done, find me. I’ll take you to the nurse.” He then turns to the ogling crowd, “The rest of you - fifteen laps in groups of three.” Lastly, he regards (Name) with pride, “Quick reflexes, (Lastname). Ten points to Slytherin.”

Vasnev: “Shoulda been a bloody Gryffindor.” (Name): “Don’t be stupid. If it were you, I would have laughed and made sure you never surfaced.”

¬*¬

Newton Scamander is amiss with emotion, uncertain what to feel, or think for that matter. He changed in a daze, wrapped his scarf around his neck absentminded and aloof, faintly feeling the cold that seemingly seeped past his skin and settled into his very bones. The stench dragged into the locker room and wild splashes and exuberant shouts, muffled as they were, grounded Newton in reality when he just started to slip again. It was (Name) that jumped into the pool after him instead of poking fun with the rest; it was (Name) that reacted first, rather than the trained teacher. It was a display of honest and true friendship. Newt got light just thinking about it.

After he had reassured the Coach he is fine, still blinking stupidly, still clearing his throat and scrunching his nose, he left the area with one last glance sent the swimming boys’ way. He was unable to find (Name) amongst them, possibly he was submerged underwater, or just out of eyesight, and Newton left feeling just a tad disappointment he wasn’t able to thank him. Perhaps (Name) would find him on his own. Newton was always too afraid to seek him out; too uncomfortable with the company the Slytherin boy often entertained. That is what he decided he shall do – wait.

He stumbled into the corridor and pulled his robe closer – the air is warmer and is almost unnervingly dry, though he still trembles. He stops when he spots a vaguely familiar figure lounging by the windowsill, heavy book in hand. It is Alexander, and Newt immediately feels scorched. The silent boy reads “Iliad” – a title mentioned a few times during History of  Magic, all the way back in year five, no, four? Newton does not have History of  Magic anymore, and the only reason he can think why Alexander has this book, it nearly tearing at its spine, with fragile pages that crumble when touched too roughly, is because he is either in (Name)’s class, or is trying to get (Name)’s attention. Considering he sits right across from the door to the boys’ locker room, Newton leans more to the latter. That idea does not sit well with him.

He regards Alexander with a spiteful look, though the boy not once glances away from his reading, simply turns the page and continues. Alas, Newton wanders down the hall, dejected.

The day passes in a blur and not once or twice did (Name) rush past him, never stopping, not even muttering a half-hearted greeting. At dinner Leta sat with Newton and she was speaking something charming, something light, yet his eyes kept wandering to the Slytherin boy discussing secrets with Vasnev. The pit in his stomach seemed to open so wide it nearly swallowed him up. Why did (Name) detach himself so heartlessly after such a selfless act? Could it be that Newton was to blame, as he was the first to step out of their friendship?

He must talk to him, Newton concluded, taking a shy sip of his drink. He must.

The night fell over the castle like a velvet curtain, heavy, starless. The castle appears uncanny in the dark; portraits mumble sleepily, pale figures of ghosts float and loom in corners, watching nothing in particular, their gazes set beyond these cold walls, beyond this world. The dungeons are damp and cool and Newton’s heart hammers in his chest like a wild drum. He is in search of (Name) – Head Boy duties and all, the privilege to patrol the corridors and punish wandering students till the magical 3 in the morning – and he finds him quite easily, pacing calmly, his wand being the only source of bleak light.

Though as it appears, Newton is not the only one in need of (Name)’s company. Just when he is about to move from his hiding place and utter a timid “Hello”, Doris Sherbet slinks from the shadows like a beautiful siren from the parting waves. Her voice is soft and rasp and o so alluring, and she asks the Head Boy if he would like to take a walk with her, “I am just on my way to my Common Room” she explains, “the castle is so dark and eerie…I took a wrong turn and now I’m here.” She lies.

“I’m afraid I cannot help you, Doris.” (Name)’s voice is diplomatic, perhaps a tad amused, ���Five points from Ravenclaw and please, do not let me catch you again.”

She is visibly displeased yet saunters away without another word. Then, (Name), to himself mumbles, “Five points to me for doing such a fan-bloody-tastic job.”

But before one visitor leaves, another arrives, and this time it is Alexander and Newton wants to turn back and forget this whole silly elaborate plan all together. But again, (Name), with a hefty annoyed sigh, dismisses the boy. No house points were lost, however.

Alas, in the dark they are finally left alone. Newt, from the pillars he takes solace in, watches as (Name) leisurely approaches, and before the boy can pass he grabs his upper arm and freezes him in place. Innocent green eyes meet startled (colour) ones. For a moment there is pure silence, only the alien drip drip drip from somewhere down the hall lulls in the background.

“Well,” (Name) mutters in an exhale of breath, “you are the last person I figured I would find here.”

Newt let’s go of him slowly, now uncertain what should he do with his hands. He clears his throat, glancing to the side before starting, “I-well…I just…I wanted to thank you. For today.” The skin of his cheeks burns in rouge, and he wonders briefly in (Name) can see it.

The Slytherin boy’s face softens, if slightly, “Gave me a real scare, you know.” He admits with a hint of that same raw concern Newt saw earlier. The shorter boy gulps, his throat suddenly painfully dry. “But you are very welcome. Now you best run along back to the common room before a wandering professor sees you. I am afraid I will not be much help then.”

But saying goodbye now feels like all of this would go to waste. Perhaps Newt had missed him so dearly he was unable to move, or perhaps he decided to do something brave for the first time in his life as he pulls (Name) into a fierce hug, his heart nearly at his throat. The taller boy is stiff for a moment, unresponsive, but then one arm lazily drapes over Newts shoulder and pulls just a tad closer. He smells of imported cigarettes and expensive cologne.

Newton tastes bitterness on the tip of his tongue when he pulls away, taking a good step back and clearing his throat, flustered, hot as that summer day that nearly drowned him.

“Five points to Hufflepuff.” (Name) announces proudly in an amused whisper.

“…F-For what?” Newt blinks, “For breaking the rules?”

“Would I ever reward you for anything less?” (Name) questions, then winks, “Go now. Off to bed.”

[xmr-deity]

Oh Deer

Pairing: Newt Scamander x Male!Animagus!Reader

Words: 1,896

Universe: Wizarding World (Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them)

Summary: (Y/n) gets a bad owie and Newt helps him out.. They become buddies and more.

It was cold and rainy outside, as usual in England. Newt was on his way home, watching his boots splash through the shallow puddles on the pavement. He was almost to his flat, passing an alleyway when he suddenly heard a desperate noise. It was like a whine, but definitely not from a dog or a cat. Newt immediately jumped slightly and stopped, dropping everything and slowly going into the alleway.

Near the other side he saw a crumpled figure, and as he approached it he realized it wasn’t a person, it was a deer. As he approached- slowly and a bit crouched, of course- he could make out a guess of what kind of deer. Most likely a Sika deer, multitudes of thin, white spots speckling it’s brown coat. The noise it was making was like a high-pitched sounding ‘eeeeee,’ that could even sound like a baby crying if you listened for it.

“Hey, It’s alright, it’s alright..” Newt said calmly and softly, going and sitting down next to the deer and holding his hands out so it could see he bore no ill will. The deer let out another noise then apprehensively gave his hand a small sniff then a tiny lick.

“Hey there, little guy…” He said softly, gently stroking the deer’s head once. He then scooted around to look at the rest of it’s body, “oh, no.. what happened to you..” Newt saw blood dripping down from one of it’s legs and it’s side. There were large gashes- claw marks- in it. It was a miracle this animal had escaped whatever had attacked it, and how in the world did it get this far into the city?

Newt being Newt, he couldn’t just leave this deer to bleed out and die in an alleyway.

“I’m gonna help you, alright? It’s gonna be alright, I’m not going to hurt you..” He said, his voice ever calm and soft as he scooped up the deer. One surprising thing was how small it was, though it’s large antlers indicated it was fully grown.

Newt carried it inside his flat, hoping none of the neighbors noticed. They might call animal control or the police or something dumb like that. He walked to where he’d left his case, setting the deer down for a moment to unlock it and step in, picking the deer back up. All the while the animal made the pained whines and noises, each time breaking Newt’s sweet heart.

He carefully set the deer down on a medical table he had set up in his briefcase of wonders. He immediately got to work, cleaning the blood and applying antiseptic- which the deer did not like- then healing potions and ointments then wrapping it all in bandages. The deer soon fell asleep and so Newt went and found something it could eat, grabbing some leaves off a tree and bringing them to the table so the deer could eat it when it woke up.

He went and tended to other fantastical beasts in his sanctum before returning to the hut when he was about ready to go to sleep. He found the deer was now laying on the bed, leaves untouched on the medical table. Newt found that.. a little odd, but before he could think too hard about it the deer lifted it’s head and gave a pitiful, little bleat at him.

Newt though for a moment then sighed, finding himself not wanting to leave the deer alone. He shrugged off his coat and undid his bow tie, setting then on a chair before kicking off his shoes and climbing into the bed next to the little deer. It snuggled toward him face first, (luckily, because he didn’t fancy getting skewered by horns in the middle of the night).

Within 20 minutes Newt was fast asleep, and so was the deer, cuddled up in each other’s warmth..

****

Newt Scamander’s eyes flickered slowly open as his internal alarm woke him up. The warmth of the bed and the body close to him was very comforting, despite the uncomfortable clothes he still wore. At first, he didn’t realize a difference, assuming it was the deer he must have forgotten he’d cuddled up with.. but then he realized deer didn’t have messed of (h/c) hair.

Soon (y/n)’s eyes fluttered open, large (e/c) eyes framed by dewy eyelashes stared up at him with wonder and a bit of alarm. Newt would have shouted if he was more awake, but he just gasped in surprise and sat up, scrambling out of the bed. (Y/n) sat up as well, yawning a bit before he stretched his arms above his head, his back arching slightly before he flinched in pain. Newt recognized the bandages he’d put on the deer the night before, wrapped around the boy’s torso and arm, stained with blood.

“Wh-Who.. Who are you??” He questioned, pointing his wand at the stranger in his bed. (Y/n) tilted his head slightly, staring up at Newt with big eyes still.

“I’m (y/n),” he said simply, voice soft. This boy in his bed looked like a deer god rather than a regular wizard.. his skin seemed to glow in the morning light, the sheets wrapped almost elegantly around his waist- which Newt noticed was completely bare aside from the bandages.

“(Y/n)..” he said softly, trying to process this, “you’re.. an animagus?” He lowered his wand a little as (y/n) nodded.

“I must thank you for saving me last night.. I definitely would have died had it not been for you. I owe you a great deal.” He said, scooting forward on the bed a little, the sheet starting to come loose.

That spurred Newt into action, a soft blush on his cheeks now as he scrambled about, grabbing spare clothes and bringing them over to (y/n).

“You can.. wear these.” Newt said, glancing down and away a couple times. (Y/n) nodded and looked up at Newt expectantly, who hesitated before realizing.

“Oh. Right, I’ll just uh.. right.” He said, hurrying out of the hut.

“So.. what’s your name then?” (Y/n) asked from inside as he changed into the provided clothes.

“Ah, Newt.” He called back. There was a bit of silence before (y/n) came out of the hut, wearing Newt’s clothes. They looked really cute on him..

“Wow.. what is this place?” (Y/n) asked, glancing around at the multitudes of fantastic creatures and beasts.

“This, well.. this um.. it’s my little sanctum, I guess.. I protect lots of.. creatures and keep them safe here..” Newt responded.

“That’s amazing,” (y/n) said in awe, walking ahead to look around more, “they’re all so cool!”

Newt hurried after him, making sure he didn’t get himself hurt or anything on accident. There were a few close calls, (y/n) of course not knowing the specifics of how to act around most of these creatures.

(Y/n) seemed to be in awe, as most people did when they came here. The boy yelped when he felt something jump onto his chest, looking down to find a niffler trying it’s best to pry the shiny buttons off of the coat Newt had given him. (Y/n) couldn’t help but laugh a little, prying the small animal off of him and looking at it sniff wildly and wriggle around.

“This is so cute, what is it?” He asked, looking over at Newt as he took the niffler.

“Oh, it’s- uh, this is a niffler. It’s very attracted to shiny things..” He said, going and returning it to its place. He turned back to (y/n) and stopped dead in his tracks, the boy’s bright (e/c) eyes shining in the soft light. Maybe he was attracted to shiny things too.

He was pulled from his thoughts as a scree sounded from another enclosure. (Y/n) immediately dashed away, going to find the source of the noise. Newt quickly followed, the same worries in mind.

“Woah…” (y/n) sighed as they approached the Thunderbird’s area, the majestic creature soaring around until it landed on it’s rock in front of (y/n).

“What in the world are you..?” (y/n) asked softly, extending his hand to let the bird inspect.

“That’s.. Ah, that’s a thunderbird. That’s Frank.” Newt answered when he caught up, looking worriedly at the sky that was seeming to darken.

“I need to get him out of this place.. It’s too small for him.” He said.

“Frank?” (y/n) paused, “That’s.. An interesting name for this thunderbird.” He said, gently stroking the magnificent beast’s head.

“Where do you plan to release him?”

“I’m planning a trip to America, to Arizona, more specifically.. So I can release him..” Newt said, going and getting some food for Frank.

“Here, let me help!” (Y/n) said, hopping over to Newt and helping feed Frank.

****

It had been a few months since that, and (y/n)’s story had been revealed. He’d started training to be a professor at Hogwarts, but apparently he’d gotten on someone’s bad side and - long story short- he’d been framed for the disappearance of a student and had to run into the forest, got hurt, and then apparated into that alleway.

Also (y/n) never wanted to go to America again. Not with that crazy obscurus debacle. He’d sort of become an assistant to Newt, helping care for and feed the animals.

(Y/n) had started feeling.. Feelings start to arise, and the longer he spent with Newt the worse it got. It got to the point where that was all (y/n) could think about, and things between him and Newt kept getting more and more awkward. So, today was the day (y/n) was determined to confess.

Newt was feeding the little occamies when (y/n) approached, nervously fiddling with his fingers.

“Uh.. Hey, um, N-Newt..” He said softly, prompting the occamy covered man to turn to look at him, “I.. have something to tell you..”

“Oh, just a second,” Newt said, realizing whatever it was must be serious. He quickly finished up with the little occamies and pried them from his arms, putting them back in their nest. He turned back to (y/n) and straightened his clothes.

“What’s going on, (y/n)?” He asked.

(Y/n) took a deep, shuddery breath, looking everywhere but Newt. This was terrifying.

“I.. I think I like you.” He managed to force out, his eyes going wide at what he’d just said, and the expression on Newt’s face didn’t help. The man looked distressed, shifting around briefly before he hesitated.. Then grabbed onto (y/n)’s shirt and pulled him close, pressing a deep kiss to his lips.

(Y/n)’s eyes widened even more, a hot blush spreading across his cheeks before he grabbed onto Newt and deepened it. It was a full minute before the two managed to separate, their breaths coming out in soft huffs.

“I think I like you too.” Newt responded, and (y/n) huffed out a laugh. The two kissed again, pulling each other as close as they could, like the other might disappear if he let go.

(Y/n) and Newt really did live happily ever after…

But then Grindelwald escaped.

[niftynifflerfics]

Fantastic Beasts Masterlist

Legend:

Angst: 🌩

Fluff: ❤️

Smut: 🔥

Who Needs Plans Anyway? - Newt Scamander x female reader 🔥❤️

Valentine’s Day plans go south when you arrive home hot, flustered and ready to go.

Dating Queenie Goldstein Headcanons - Gender Neutral❤️🌩

None currently

None currently

[euphoricliesoflilac]

I'm On Fire - Part One

<Billy Hargrove x gn Reader>

✒Originally this was going to be a Newt Scamander fanfic but it turned into Billy. I plan on making only one more part to this!

✒ Type - Imagine first part

The bristles dragging against the clean canvas sound a scratching patter in the silence.

Its not loud or uncomfortable but instead, satisfying and calm.

It brings the wandering mind in, drawing a soothing image to rest on.

It relieves the stress and worry eating itself away at your stomach.

Like taking flight each stroke is a wonder of pictures.

And the colors. Oh, how the colors pop out of their own shells and speak to your inner mind.

Its all a blur of beauty and mess, but the kind that reaches the soul and wets a persons cheeks.

Another dab of water spreads itself out into the canvas, seeping in. Taking the brush back, you bathe it into your glass of water. Inhaling deeply you resurface the brush and gently comb it into velvety crimson pigment.

"That's beautiful." The deep male voice rumbles through your ear suddenly.

Taken a back by the sudden sound and breath now grazing your skin, you spin unsteady around in your stool.

"Billy Hargrove!" You breath, surprised by the blonde-haired male leaning down so to whisper the previous praise in your ear.

"You um-- startled me." The sentence comes out as a mumble and you mentally smack yourself.

He nods once before flashing you a smirk. "Whatever." And then he's gone, back to stalking his way around the art classroom.

Trying to process the far from typical encounter which happened only seconds ago, it occurs to you that Billy had called your painting beautiful. He had actually used the word beautiful, one of the many words you never expected him to use or even have registered in his vocabulary.

It just didn't fit or rather seem to fit with his "tuff guy" image.

And on top of his unlikely image break, he had interacted with you just out of the blue. Before now he'd never even so much as given you a glance. Maybe he does truthfully find your canvas beautiful, the thought shines, making a slight smile tug on your lips.

Maybe he isn't as intense as what you'd observed and constantly heard.

It is hot. The heat that melts the sidewalk and kills trees. But the problem is you are walking home today and your apartment isn't anywhere close to the high school. So,

Sliding off your jumper and tying it around your middle, you begin the journey home.

Not even after 20 minutes, the itchy fabric of your faded t-shirt is pasted onto your back. The sun's blaze is showing you no mercy and silently your curse yourself for your unintelligent decision.

At some point between your half dragging feet and heat exhaustion, you acknowledge the blueish sports car pulling up to where you awkwardly are melting, music blaring out. You peer through the rolled down tinted window, and are met by, the strangely kind face of Billy Hargroove.

"You got a death wish? Walking in this heat?" He shouts over his music.

"What? I can't hear you!" You holler back, once again silently cursing yourself for your stupid decision.

Billy just reaches for the volume knob, turning it slightly, but only just enough for you to hear his voice clearer.

"I said, do you need a ride?"

[everythingharrypotterblog]

Yule Ball (Newt Scamander x Male!Reader)

@vincentvangoghtthefuckaway said to everythingharrypotterblog:no request in particular, just wanted to ask if you could write some Newt X Male!reader ? ive found ONE and im dying out here. help a guy out please im begging you (bonus for ftm!reader but it's totally okay if not

A/N: I tried! Plz tell me wat ya think xox

Summary: Y/N and Newt are the best of friends, and might have feelings for each other. None of them are ready to admit them however, so they just find two girls to go to the Yule Ball with. At the ball, they both get bored and their dates leave them. So, they go to the library and hang out.

+

“Yes Scamander. Dance partners.” Professor Grubbly-Plank told the two wide-eyed boys.

“Is-is it mandatory?” Y/N asked.

“No, but it is best, your Head of House will definitely approve if you both find dates.”

Y/N let out a puff of air in frustration and walked out the classroom with his best friend.

“How the hell are we going to get someone to go to this ball thing with us?” Newt asked, sighing.

“I don’t know. Got anyone in mind?” Y/N inquired.

“Nope…” Newt muttered.

Well, there was someone he’d like to take. Y/N. But he didn’t dare confessing his loving feelings towards his best friend. Already he wasn’t very popular, it was a miracle he met Y/N and became friends with him.

“Well hey, we’re two not bad-looking guys, let’s just ask a bunch of girls and by tomorrow we’ll have a partner.” Y/N suggested.

“Yeah, definitely not bad-looking…” Newt whispered to himself.

“What?”

“Yeah, definitely good plan, let’s do it. Um I mean let’s definitely do it, it’s a good plan.”

+

Newt walked alone in the hallways, dragging his feet. He wasn’t interested in any of the Hogwarts girls. None of them can be as smart, or as funny as Y/N. I’ll just ask Leta, he thought.

Making his way to the Slytherin table, he spotted his only other friend reading.

“Hey Leta.” Newt took a seat beside her.

“Oh hey Scamander! What’s up?”

“Well, um I was wondering if you uh were going to the Yule Ball with someone.”

“I’m not.” She answered.

“Cool.”

“Newt, would you like to go with me?” She said, raising her eyebrows.

“Yeah, that’d be great!” Newt jumped up and ran to the library, where he would usually meet up with Y/N after classes.

“Hey, Y/N!” Newt scream-whispered, plopping onto the chair beside Y/N.

“You look happy.”

“I asked Leta to the Yule Ball today.”

“Oh. Nice. So, you like her?”

“Wha- no no she’s just my friend.”

“Oh okay.” Y/N answered, trying to be nonchalant, but secretly feeling relieved.

Y/N was always scared of Newt falling for Leta. They spent time together quite often. Y/N had feelings for Newt, more than friendly ones. And maybe Newt returned them?”

“Y/N, are you listening?” “Wha-oh yeah.” Y/N stuttered, snapping back to reality.

“I was asking if you found anybody.”

“Oh yeah, Lilly Singher from Ravenclaw… She was nice, she said yes.”

+

The night of the Yule Ball came in a flash. Before they knew it, Y/N was walking Lilly down to the Great Hall, and Leta was fixing Newt’s tie.

+

The night carried on, slowly. Newt huffed, taking a swig of his tenth glass of water. He was incredibly bored, Leta had left to go dance with some other guy and Y/N was nowhere to be seen.

“Newt?” He heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Oh my god, Y/N thank god you’re here. I’m so bored!” Newt hugged Y/N tightly.

“Where’s Leta?”

“Dance floor. Where’s Lilly?”

“Same place.”

“We really suck with girls eh?” Newt chuckled.

“Yeep.” Y/N chuckled.

They stood there in silence for a little while.

“Wanna get out of here?” Y/N finally proposed.

“Please.”

They walked to the library, which was completely empty. Picking up a couple books, the two sat in a corner and began to read.

Hours passed, the sky began to darken and Y/N felt his eyelids begin to droop. He felt his head getting heavier and before he knew it, he was sound asleep.

Newt glanced beside him, feeling a smile creep up his face when he saw Y/N asleep.

“Hey, let’s go back to the dorm.”

Y/N muttered something incoherent in his sleep and instead of getting up to leave, he rested his head on Newt’s shoulder.

“Y/N…We can’t stay here overnight.” Newt whispered.

But with one glance at Y/N’s peaceful expression, he couldn’t bring himself to disturb him.

“Sleep well.” Newt whispered, resting his head on Y/N’s, closing his own eyes.

And so, the whole night, the two boys slept under the moonlight from the window, wrapped in each other’s warmth. Madam Pince had a hell of a surprise waiting for her in the morning…

[delicrieux]

. . . paramour ༊*·˚

˙⋆✮ summary. you and credence live happily in france

pairing. credence barebone x male!reader warnings. some angst wc. 1,1k✧˖°.

prompt by nonnies. Do you still do fbawtft content? If so more Credence please!! Thanks! /  Ily could I please request something where Credence and his bf (he gay) have a cozy apartment in Paris and creed decides he wants to be intimate for the first time cuz bf has been patient, understanding, respectful of his limits and boundaries but also super flirty cuz LOOK AT HIM but creed wants to be daring so he walks into the room one day and just drops his robe nervously and bf calls him beautiful (possibly in French) aaaaand I think you can take it from there thank you!!

mlist | buy me coffee | a secret history ♡ྀ

You met Credence Barebone on a whimsical trip to New York. You had begged your mother access to her bank account and she, after a lot of persuasion and sweet promises, agreed, and drunk on ecstasy, alcohol, and in a haze of cigarette smoke you walked off the ship and set foot on American soil with pockets full of coins that just begged to be spent. You wanted to spend your cash on slot machines and other nightly desires, but you just so happened to stumble into a rally that swore against witches and wizards and you saw that shy boy standing there with leaflets and his mother screaming by his side. To say the least, you donated a pretty sum to their foundation, despite being a wizard. You found it quite ironic.

What you didn’t find ironic, however, is how much you grew to like Credence, and how much he grew to like you. After a few accidents with magic and your schoolmate Scamander losing his precious creatures (nothing had changed since Hogwarts, as it seemed), you decided to take Credence away from this madness and bring him home to France.

New York. You like him.

Paris. You still like him.

Day. You like him more.

Night. Can this desire be tamed?

And so the two of you live in a small flat in Paris that is just far away enough from the commotion and tourists, but just close enough to get a peek of the Eiffel Tower when looking through the kitchen’s window. You spend your days writing novels and an occasional poem. Credence studies magic, with your help of course, and tries to hide his blush each time he lays his eyes on you.

“…Where did you learn magic, (Name)?” Credence had asked one long night at the start of spring when the stars had just begun to shine brightly. Glancing away from the stack of scribbles your eyes trailed to find him sitting on the other side of the table, his complexion rosy and soft in the lamp light.

“I studied at Hogwarts.” You started, “A School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Britain.” You leaned back, “Never finished, though.” You added quietly, searching your pocket for a cigarette.

“Why not?” Credence continued, “If…you don’t mind me asking, that is…”

Ah! You found it, “They caught me.” You stated simply, biting the bud.

“…Caught you? Doing what?”

“Terrible things.”

“What sorts of things?”

You peered into his eyes, “The sorts I’d like to do to you.” Credence visibly gulped. You tried to hold in a smile, “See there was this…Professor I adored. He had a magnificent beard. And I was, well, a very …” You racked your mind for the right word, “-Diligent student. I was also very spoiled by my mother. When I wanted something…” You traced the details of his face, “I usually got it sooner, rather than later.”

“But I…don’t have a beard.”

You frowned, “Well, that’s quite alright. I like you the way you are, Credence.” You smiled, “Besides, I grew tired of them quite a while ago.”

“Will you grow tired of me, too?”

After that little chat Credence was even quieter than he usually was. A pity. You had hoped he finally started to open up to you, but he wouldn’t let you touch him – not even hold his hand, you could only dream of taking his clothes off – and you are a patient man but it was getting ridiculous and Newton had been pressing you to meet him and you really didn’t want to involve yourself in any other adventures he had planned. You grew tired and cranky. But never of Credence.

Never of his shy gaze and lovely smile.

Finally, another terrible day is over and you can watch the slowly darkening sky with as sense of relief. You had managed to avoid Newton today, but only Merlin knows if you will be lucky enough for that tomorrow. You loosen your tie and enter your room. The oil lamps cast strange shadows on the walls and the flat is deadly quiet, only the occasional bump and crash from upstairs bothers you. With a flick of your wand you shut the door behind you and your eyes scan for a clean piece of paper. You must write your family, specifically your mother. She is growing restless for you to marry.

“[You are killing me!]” Your mother cried.

“[Mother, please…]” You tried to calm her, approaching cautiously because you knew she will snap.

“[Idiot! Absolutely useless child of mine!]” She slapped you so hard your reading glasses nearly flew off of your nose, “[Do you know how embarrassing it is?! Marie’s child has already married, two times might I add! When will you take your boy by the altar?! Are you waiting for me to grow old?!]”

You are unsure of how many times you have told her that Credence is not ready yet. For a French woman she sure is impatient.

As you approach your writing desk, cramped with books and parchment and spilled ink, you hear the door creek open and turning around you ask, “Need anything, Cre—“ And as you meet his gaze he drops his robe. Your heart jumps to your throat, shock stilling you in place. His head is turned to the side, a hot red blush on his cheeks as he waits for you response, unmoving, unbreathing. Simply standing there as a work of art, ready to be admired and loved. Your eyes can’t help but roam his body, his velvety pale skin, and his shy bones. “Magnifique…” You whisper, catching his attention. Your eyes meet in the dimness of your room and an awed smile pulls on the corners of your lips, “Tu es magnifique mon amour…”

He approaches you, cautiously, scared of sudden movements and shaking lightly. When he is close enough your cradle his face in your hands, your fingers grazing his sensitive skin. His hands dig into your shirt, tugging lightly.

“I want you to…” He starts, his voice trembling.

“Yes?”

“…Kiss me.” He finishes breathless.

“Your wish is my command, Credence. It has, and will always be so.”

You lean in gently, your lips inches away from his, and pause – if he wishes to back out this is his last chance and your halted movements prove so. He nods lightly, the movement is felt through your fingers, as he closes his eyes and leans in. You meet him halfway, or perhaps the distance between you two was so scarce that it does not even matter. Your lips capture his in a heated kiss, one you had only dreamed about having, and he responds with the same unyielding passion, one you did not even know he had in him.

The night will be long, you figure. But you do not mind. No, you do not mind one bit.