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lacollectionneuse1967 · 2 months

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remembering you - bonus chapter

Theseus Scamander x Reader

summary: theseus comes to your rescue after you've had too much to drink, but will he be able to resist your drunken advances?

fem!reader. theseus x reader.

category: smut

warnings: 18+ smut scene. drunkenness. dirty talk. unprotected penetration. light mdom/fsub.

author's note: wasn't going to continue with this fic, but i made this "bonus chapter." it's more of a smutty resolution than a full-fledged chapter, no plot all vibes--hope you all enjoy!

part one / part two / bonus chapter

The realization of love feels fatal, plummets and plants itself at the bottom of your stomach like some small death. Your heart pounds dreadfully, like you’re in danger. The soar and the swoop.

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me.

Theseus. Loves. Me.

It shatters your mind. You shuffle around in the shards to formulate sentences to offer up to Mr. Bragg’s probing, you tell yourself to blink. To focus.

Mr. Bragg had shuffled you into his quiet office with a shaking anticipation, but asked you only silly, useless questions once alone. He was less talkative than you’d expected. Less forward.

It’s dim in his office. Impractically so. Only an oil lamp squats in the far corner, blooming dead orange light into the cigar-perfumed room.

The bronze hinges on his display cabinet and the dull gold knobs and hardware on all his other furniture glint, dark rays of light. Yes, the dark winks at you in this way. He’s seated far across the room. You can’t see him well, he’s half-swallowed in a cushy upholstered chair opposite yours.

“Might we turn on another lamp, sir?” You can’t see and you want to look around. You try not to shuffle in your seat.

“No, no, I can see you just fine.”

You burn with something, you don’t know what.

It’s not the general air of discomfort that’s bothering you, it’s the void, that gap of misunderstanding that you now feel between you and this man. Who is this man, really?

You’d always dismissed Mr. Bragg as a bumbling, meat-fisted man. Sweat on his brow, voice booming through the Atrium most days, spittle flying. Heavy-handed and obvious in his jokemaking and friend-making and all other matters.

You don’t know why the wet shine of his teeth in the dark now reminds you of a wolf. Could he really be what they think he is? You search for any sign of Grindelwald, of extremism or betrayal on his face, but you see only darkness and the barest outlines of his features–eyes, mouth, nose–buried in that.

“Whisky?” He smiles. You can’t see the whites of his eyes.

“What about it?”

“Ha!” It’s a dead noise in his throat. A huff. “Funny. Go on, girl. You’re allowed.”

He pours two inches of whisky into a thick French glass and has to stand to hand it to you.

You drink and try not to make a face. Crude drink, whisky. He stares unblinkingly at your throat as you swallow it, assessingly. When he stands and pours you another, you don’t protest. You gulp it down and speak quickly.

“Mr. Bragg, can I ask, how long have you been this department’s head?”

“Are you enjoying your whisky?”

“Well, yes–Mr. Bragg I was just wondering how you’re-”

“It doesn’t seem like you’re enjoying it very much. You know Mr. Martin–Paul Martin from the Courts–he could down one of my bottles in, say, half an hour?”

You breathe out a laugh and hope you don’t sound exasperated. This is going to be hard. He’s making it hard for you, and you don’t know why.

“Well, I don’t believe that, Mr. Bragg.”

Paul Martin. A Ministry judge. Your mouth works faster than your mind. The whisky sears something like acid in your stomach.

“Mr. Martin joined us around the same time you did, isn’t that right?”

A good quarter of Ministry workers had inexplicably quit sometime before last New Year. The new hires seemed to come out of thin air. You never thought of it as sinister before tonight.

The corner of Mr. Bragg’s mouth twitched. That was the wrong thing to say. You should’ve kept your cards close. The man across from you doesn’t move at all, but in your mind the alarm bells are screeching. You can’t tell if it’s just dark in the room or if the edges of your vision are smudging. Soft black curtains.

“And what is it exactly that you wanted to speak with me about, Miss Y/L/N?”

—----------------

“So, how did you do it?”

Theseus jerks irritably at the sound of Yuta’s voice to see who it is and then, once confirmed, goes back to ignoring him.

He’s still staring at the blank column of space between the pillars where you’d disappeared with the detestable Mr. Bragg, mouthing “sorry!” with this look of sweet apology on your face. Sweet. Everything you did was sweet to him.

“Is it a secret? Bastard really won’t tell us.” George Ambani Kotak slings an arm around Yuta’s shoulders and delivers his line with a mischievous lilt. There’s a bit of stray confetti on his shoulder that strangely suits him–unkempt hair, ill-fitting suit and all.

George and Yuta are the youngest Aurors in the department. Always poking fun at Theseus because they know that he was once the youngest Auror, and they know he usually likes their spirit of boyish rebellion. Keyword: Usually.

“What are you two going on about?” Theseus humors them with his attention, turning away from the space you left at last. He doesn’t feel right, doesn’t feel good. It’s not about your unsaid response, he could give a damn if you loved him back. He loves you so absolutely he doesn’t want anything in return. No, it’s something else and he needs to be with you again to make it feel better.

“You think we’re pesky, don’t you?” Yuta whines in mock accusation. The young Hufflepuff has a teasing manner about him that’s almost effeminate.

“That’s because Theseus only likes hanging out with old men. Going down to the pub and talking about footy and the weather.”

“Piss off, George,” Theseus bites. He can’t quite suppress his smile. They make him feel young and old at the same time.

The Armistice ceremony is over and discordant, broken streams of people are trickling out of the Atrium now, emerging from beneath pillars and around corners, sweaty and celebratory with relief, as if at the end of a concert or performance. Mourning and remembering were a sort of duty to be carried out, too. Theseus can understand that.

When he thinks about your reticent angling away from him in the alcove, then your quiet omission, “I just wish that you would’ve remembered me,” he wants to shoot himself. Dramatics, yes, but the thought of letting you down felt worse than anything, was a shotgun blow to the chest in of itself.

“Y/N fucking Y/L/N,” George groans. “How did you do it, man? I mean, actually, what did you do?!”

“You sly fox,” Yuta mutters in agreement.

Theseus frowns at Yuta then, taken aback, understanding the exchange at last.

“Do you fancy Y/N or something?” He still feels at a loss. They must have seen him talking to you earlier.

George looks at Theseus like he’s stupid. Then again, George looks at everyone like they’re stupid. Not a Ravenclaw thing, Theseus doesn’t like stereotypes, just a George thing.

“Everyone likes Y/N, are you kidding me? But the girl is impenetrable.”

“Office siren,” Yuta chirps in.

“According to Ana, half the sports and games department has been trying to get at her all month. We came to the conclusion that she’s probably secretly engaged. Or maybe it’s an Unspeakable thing, who knows? Oh, Merlin, Rawlings is going to be fuming when he finds out about this, he’s been trying to chat her up at lunch for weeks–”

“So what’s your deal anyway? You and her?” Yuta interrupts, physically putting up a hand to silence George. George blinks at the appendage in offense.

Theseus is stunned anew. Flustered, even.

“She… She’s just my friend,” he says firmly. Defensively, maybe. “I care about her a lot.”

There’s a beat before the two boys react. Theseus wants to give you the space to respond to his confession, to define this, before involving anyone else. He hopes Yuta and George can sense that. Or at least sense his protectiveness and uncertainty.

“But why you?!” Yuta grimaces at last.

George bellows at that, heartily. “Oh, Yuta, young Romeo, you had your chance back when-”

Theseus drones out the two’s bickering, but the sound of it makes him inexplicably happy. The unease in his ribcage dissipates and lifts, though not completely. Theseus feels proud to love you. Grateful that, by some miracle, you let him.

He doesn’t care about any meeting you might have. He’s coming to see you, now.

The conviction thumps in his chest like a second heart.

He turns to leave without a farewell.

—-------------

‘This is good,’ you’d told yourself courageously after the first swooning burn of drunkenness sailed through your body, hard and fast and seeping. ‘I feel more confident to ask him what I need to. I’m not unsettled anymore.’

But there was no coherent justification anymore. You were piteously, dangerously drunk.

All you could do was sway upright in the chair and try to aim your gaze towards that warm spot in the dark you were sure concealed his figure.

Oh, god, he was talking about something. You hadn’t noticed, hoped he wasn’t asking you anything.

“-girl like you, no?”

The clipped end of his sentence did nothing for you. You feel sick, want to keel over and hold your head between your knees until the room stops moving. Your skin is buzzing. Living takes on a liquid quality, you feel like you are slipping warmly and smoothly from one moment to the next.

“What? Sorry.”

The dark shape of Mr. Bragg moves then, solidifies as he comes to sit next to you.

“Oh, ho!” He tuts. “Can’t handle your drink, Y/L/N?”

You squint up at him.

In truth, no. This is more than you can handle, and you didn’t really drink to begin with aside from the rare glass of wine paired with dinner.

“It’s…” your retort trails off, you can’t remember why you’d opened your mouth in the first place.

You feel yourself careen towards his thigh, his lap, he is seated on the arm of your big chair now. You slump against him pitifully. You are hardly there. You don’t know if it’s natural, the sharp decline from bubbly and light and talkative to this–sleep. Losing control of your limbs.

Oh, god. Fuck.

Some fucking investigation. You don’t know what would be worse, if he were really betraying the Ministry, an enemy agent, or if he just wanted to take advantage of you.

“M’sorry,” you slur against him and strain to raise yourself back up, unsuccessfully. Everything tastes bad. Even the air that rushes out of your nostrils when you exhale is pricked with the astringent sweet-rot of alcohol. Bitter and syrupy.

You want to jolt up at the feel of his hand on your back, petting you almost, but you can only manage a low judder. You don’t know how long it’s been or what time it is, but you’re going to pass out, you realize, and Mr. Bragg is touching you.

“Don’t,” you hiss, with sudden clarity. “Don’t touch me-”

The bang bang of his office door being knocked on isn’t even enough to raise you. You’re slumped over the side of the chair. Mr. Bragg, however, stands, alertly.

“Not now!” He shouts.

Every second that passes you feel yourself slip away. Light and sound comes and goes. You’re going to be sick.

The doorknob clatters against its own deadbolt.

“I said not now–”

The door clicks and crashes open, magicked unlocked no doubt.

You can only make out Mr. Bragg’s outline. He’s standing, his body conveniently angled in a feeble attempt to block you from the intruder’s view. You don’t need to see to know who it is.

You’re too fucked to smile.

Theseus just stares. Seethes. Burns, not like paper being eaten up, but without end.

“I cans–you have to-” Your nonsensical, drunken slur is enough to break his stillness.

“What’s going on here?!”

Something bridles and puffs up in Mr. Bragg, he clenches his fists and goes red in the face.

“You have no right to-”

Theseus pushes him to the floor with a single hard shove. Mr. Bragg topples over like a beetle.

He doesn’t care about him. He’s an Auror, he’ll deal with Bragg later.

You feel his hands on you, your body sings with affection. He’s trying to help you up by the arm but you’re trying to fall into him.

“Sweetheart, try and stand up,” he says, voice hushed and insistent. He seems like a real Auror now, authoritative and caring. “I think he put something in your cup.”

Your head lolls but you try to obey and make yourself helpful. Fuck, it’s hard. You thought it would help, standing up, but you feel more and more inebriated by the second.

“No,” you shake your head and stumble out of the black office into humiliatingly bright light. The word comes out as a desperate moan, a heave. You feel sick again. You have to concentrate on not slurring your words. “It’s just. I-I don’t really drink, Theseus. Likeatall...”

You stare at your stumbling feet, so strange looking. How strange it is to be drunk and seeing the drab, red Ministry carpets. To be like this and at work.

Theseus is looking around, concerned at the spectacle of the two of you, at how bad it looked, maybe, you don’t know. You just want him to stop looking around and look at you instead. You need his attention, in a babylike and indulgent way. Look at me, look at me.

“Let’s go, darling,” he mutters. “I’ll take you home.”

You gather up words and intent, trying your hardest to formulate a response; it’s then that you black out completely.

--------------------

Mercy, Theseus finds himself thinking, cursing, again. He doesn’t know how many times he’s thought this plea since you came into his life again. God, you made him think it the first night he met you, asking for a kiss, your eyes dark and bright at once, a star-shattered night.

He knows he can’t hold anything you do against you now, though. You’re truly, shockingly, appallingly and hilariously drunk. Your eyes have that sheen, so he knows you won’t remember any of it, that you’re blacked out.

“Please,” he begs you. His arms burn, though he’d never let on. A block back you’d rolled your ankle, hard on the cobblestone, so he is carrying you now, which wouldn’t be difficult if you weren’t thrashing about so much. “Y/N, please tell me where you live.”

“Why?” You cry, frowning at him. Petulant. Bratty. But sweet, sweet like everything you did. He wants to give you what you want, like always. It’s half for show, but he puts on his policeman voice to deny you.

“You’re in no state to be outside your house. I need to get you safe and home to your sister,” he explains dutifully.

The two of you had gotten enough disapproving stares from passing Muggles.

The mention of your sister does seem to jog some essential parts of your brain into sluggish action. You furrow your brow, thinking over something.

Cute.

“No, noooooo,” you whine. “My sister–oh, my landlady! They can’t see me like this, Theseus. I’ll be put out. Isn’t there some spell or-”

He shakes his head silently before realizing that you’re too drunk to notice, he has to speak aloud to get your attention.

“No, no,” he insists. “It’s too tricky a thing to remove alcohol from the bloodstream with a spell. Too dangerous. If I had a potion, maybe a bezoar elixir, I could do it, but this… It’s best to go to sleep.”

“Nooooooo,” you cry again, throwing your head back.

An old woman on the other side of the road frowns at you, openly.

“Fine! Fine,” he hisses, adjusting your flailing form in his aching arms. “I’ll take you to my flat.”

You hiccup and then start babbling indistinctly again. His face burns at the feel of you in his arms, your cheek against his chest.

This was not how he thought he’d find you today. Usually so put together all the time. So withheld and resilient.

Sedated complacency and confused, excitable thrashing seem to be your only two modes now, so this needy, talky drunkenness is something he welcomes–a middleground. Besides, half of what you mumble is nonsense.

It is worse when he can make out the nonsense. It is worse when he kicks open the door to his apartment and deposits you onto his couch.

Theseus drops down on the opposite end of the large couch, exhausted, legs spread, head thrown to the side. Carrying you all this way winded him. Nearly dislocated a shoulder.

It shocks him nearly upright when he sees you trying to crawl towards him.

“Y/N,” he grumbles. He pinches his eyes shut quickly to rid you from his vision, but it’s burned in his memory. You crawling towards him on all fours. Fucking hell.

“Go to sleep,” his eyes are still shut when he says it.

“Theseus,” you don’t sound drunk. Your lips are spit-slick. You sound sultry. Demanding. “I want.. I want-”

“See? You can’t even talk properly, love. Go to bed.” He conceals the panic well enough. He doesn’t want to deny you. If you wanna fall all over him, he wants to let you. But he knows this isn’t right, isn’t respectable.

You stop descending on him like a beautiful punishment and sit back with your legs crossed, just a cushion away from him. You don’t look or sound as drunk as you did before but he knows you are, you’d never act like this if there wasn’t alcohol in your bloodstream.

You tilt your head at him and, for him, it’s torturous.

“Okay. Come to bed with me then?” You sing-song. There’s a ditzy, woozy quality to your voice that wasn’t there before. Hadn’t ever been there. If you didn’t still smell like whisky he wouldn’t be able to resist your advances at all.

“No, no, no,” Theseus stands suddenly, speaking more to himself than you. He paces back and forth across his living room, troubled. This was insane. He shouldn’t have brought you here. He couldn’t say no to you. He knew it wasn’t within his power to.

Clothes falling off your shoulders. Looking at him all dizzy and blissed out. Pupils blown, lips wet.

You hiccup. He wants to tease you for it, but the next words out of your mouth make him choke.

“I-I wish you wore glasses,” you laugh dreamily. “I wanna make you keep them on so I can see them go all crooked when I fuck you.”

His whole body reacts. Throbs. He hisses painfully through his teeth. Tries to shut his eyes again but it’s futile. He could hate you for what you’re doing to him, actually detest you.

“Y/N, please stop talking.”

“Mmm, I thought that-”

“Stop. Talking.”

You giggle again and roll over on the couch, delighted, throwing your arms up above you.

Then, mercy, mercy, you’re trying (clumsily, unsuccessfully, what should be unsexily but it’s not to him, it’s absolutely not) to take off your clothes, pull off your top and tug off your tights. You whine in frustration when you can’t manage it.

You fall back in defeat. He can see you’re past the point of proactivity now. So long as he stays across the room he isn’t in danger. You couldn’t stumble over to him if you tried.

“Help me.” You order with a pout.

“No,” he smiles now, corner of his mouth curling, feeling confident and safe. Settles into the wooden chair at his small, square dining table and looks at you, amused. He’s still hard. “You really should listen to me, Y/N.” He says, a bit hotly.

There’s fondness, but also a sort of angry, disciplinarian edge to his tone.

“I know! I already knowwww,” you retort, grouchily despite the fact that you’re agreeing with him. Oh, the drunken mind…

He should leave. He should carry you to his bedroom and then lock you in there until you sober up or pass out. He flexes his hand at the thought. No, he doesn’t trust himself to touch you now. He hates this, not being able to touch you. He loves you and he hates it.

He’s saying the words, spitefully, before he can stop himself.

“Did you know that your voice gets all high pitched right before you come? It’s cute, actually.”

His voice is a flat line, hard and unforgiving. He’s snappy and harsh and, when you moan softly at his words, he gets up and leaves you alone in his apartment.

“I need to go on a walk. Go to sleep. Don’t move.”

The front door slams shut before you can even attempt to crawl your way over to him.

—-----------------------

You’re awake for several minutes before you can bring yourself to crack open your eyelids. It’s all pounding blackness in your head–a nightclub full of dementors. You’d laugh at the thought if everything didn’t hurt.

Your mouth tastes awful. You don’t know where you are.

“Theseus?” you mutter, rolling over in the very large, very foreign bed, opening your eyes at last.

There’s a small, purple bottle that’s labeled J. Pippin’s Hangover Remedy on the bedside table but even that makes your stomach turn. The thought of drinking any flavored liquid sends a shudder down your spine.

You sit up and force yourself to take a pitiful swig anyway and chase it with the glass of water set there for you. The more you take in the scenery–the neat, cozy room, the water and potion, the newly bought women’s clothes laid out for you at the end of the bed–the more humiliation colors your cheeks.

“Oh, no,” you whine aloud, burying your face in your hands. The last thing you remember is the Armistice ceremony and then Theseus helping you tumble out of Mr. Bragg’s dark office in a whisky-flavored haze. This had to be Theseus’s bedroom.

Which meant….

You’re only wearing your tights and a camisole. Braving the hallway in your half-undressed state, you slip into the bathroom. There’s a toothbrush there too, which you snatch up greedily, eager to rid your mouth of this foul, boozy taste. After a quick, sobering shower and five too-long minutes of scrutinizing your flushed face in the mirror you walk cautiously out into the living room. You put on one of his shirts and boxer shorts rather than the clothes he’d bought and laid out for you. Your hair is damp and dripping, but smells clean and like his soap, like him.

Through the windows, it's a cool and silver morning, the earliest light of day has that nascent, colorless quality. The dark hardwood floors of his apartment are quiet underfoot, and all things are still. Today feels new and clean and you’re hopeful he’ll forgive you.

What did you do last night? What did you say to him? You were so embarrassed, you just hoped that he’d still want you. That he wouldn't take back what he said about loving you.

Theseus looks so funny with his arm jutting out from under him, his bare legs hanging crooked over the edge of the couch. You stifle a laugh despite yourself.

It’s then, smiling at his sleeping form fondly, that you know. You’ve always felt it before, but now you know it. The certainty resting in your heart strengthens and glows.

You stand before him and tug his extended hand. He opens his eyes in innocent confusion.

“What–Y/N-”

“Come to bed with me.”

He stares up at you uncomprehendingly, gaze bleary but fond. He’s so handsome it hurts.

“Come on,” you laugh. “It’s still early. We can still sleep well.”

His oversized form on the small couch sits up. You want to run your hands through his hair, press your hands against the hard expanse of his chest and push him back down again.

“Are you sure?” He asks calmly.

“Come,” you repeat. This time when you pull him by the hand he lets you lead him.

You fall into his bed together and he brings you into him, so impossibly naturally, like muscle memory. You feel your face blush but pay it no attention, you feel so warm and safe in the cradle of his body at last.

You have to tell him. Have to tell him how you feel.

You turn to face Theseus, still cradled in his arms, but the sight of him stoppers your throat.

“I–” You make a noise like choking. There’s a bright red mark down the side of his neck. “Theseus, your neck! What happened?”

He smiles softly at your face, contented and amused.

“I’m sorry to break this to you Y/N, but you might have raked your teeth down the side of my neck last night while I was trying to carry you to my bed.”

You are undisguisably mortified. You gawk at him.

“It’s okay, Y/N!” He laughs reassuringly. “It’s fine, really. Despite you torturing me all night trying to get me to sleep with you, I stood my ground. Nothing happened.”

“Torturing you?!” Your eyes are blown wide and you can’t seem to close your mouth, except to wince. “Oh, Theseus, my behavior–I’m so humiliated, you have to forgive me–”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” he says, all levity in his voice gone, only sincerity. He clasps your hands between your body and his, and you lean into the feeling.

When you still can’t look at him, red-faced and flustered, he leans forward so suddenly you nearly start back.

Theseus licks the column of your neck in a long line, punctuating it with a nip of his teeth that makes you gasp.

“There,” he leans back and smirks at his handiwork. “Got you back. You can stop being sorry for antagonizing me now.”

Your heart is pounding, blood roaring in your ears.

“Besides,” he adds, once it’s clear you’re done being mortified. “I admit that I even find your cruelty endearing. I’ve always hated meanness, but it doesn’t matter with you at all. That’s how I know I’ve been corrupted.”

You let yourself laugh at that. It’s so nice, being in bed with him. Wearing his clothes. Despite the context of how you got there, you feel at peace.

“So,” he starts. “What do you remember?”

You shake your head and purse your lips.

“Mr. Bragg’s office. I tried to question him, it was a mission of mine. He’s not what he seems, Theseus. Mr. Bragg, Mr. Martin, I don’t know who else–they’re real threats to the Ministry.”

Theseus nods solemnly, taking it in.

“Okay, what else?”

You try to remember but the night comes back in fleeting scenes and flickering sensations.

“You kept calling me sweet.” You whisper.

“That’s all then?” He doesn’t contest it.

“But I’m not sweet,” you insist, weakly. “Everyone says I’m not. I wish I was, but I’m not a sweet girl.”

“No,” Theseus grabs your hand again and rubs circles into it with his thumb. “You’re not sweet. You’re kind. It’s a stronger quality, Y/N. One with more conviction and spirit. Trust me.”

You make a face at him, one meant to inspire pity.

“I’m not sweet?”

Theseus exhales through his nose in a huff, baffled, disarmed. Of course you would focus on that part of what he said. He flicks the tip of your nose with his finger and it makes you scrunch up your face. He’s staring at you so lovingly that it makes your teeth ache.

“You taste sweet enough to me.”

And then his mouth is on yours, hot and warm and wanting. Hungrier than you thought he was. You could never gauge how much he wanted you, how badly. It took you off-guard then, the first time you met him in his office, and it shocks you now.

You’re racing to kiss him back with equal fervor. Your skin alights with pleasure every place that his skin meets yours, you come to life under those hands of his.

Will it cease, this awestruck response he elicits? You want to one day get used to Theseus, to the wonder of him in front of you, so you can think straight around him. So you can enjoy him in a measured and rational way without praying on him like a star, without the winded pleasure of disbelief.

You whine when he pulls away from your mouth, but it’s quickly silenced by the feeling of his hands sliding under your shirt and over your breasts, squeezing and massaging them. Your nipples are so sensitive that his fingertips feel almost unbearably good. Painfully good.

“You have no idea the hell you put me through last night.”

“I’m sorry,” you moan.

“I’m not.”

He takes your mouth with his again. The way he kisses you now feels like fucking in of itself, his tongue pressing in and in to your mouth, it feels like him showing what he wants to do to you.

One of his hands drops from your chest and slips under the waistline of the pair of boxers you're wearing. His shirt, his boxers.

“Gonna make me fuck you while you wear my clothes, princess?”

You don’t know how he possesses the superpower of making you blush like a schoolgirl while his hands are quite literally down your pants. The display of shyness seems futile.

He was so gentlemanly at work and in life. You didn’t know such words were capable of leaving his lips, but god they sounded good to you.

“Off,” you manage. “Take them off.”

Theseus obliges you, hands big and warm as they gently lift the hem of your shirt over your head. He helps you shimmy out of the boxer shorts too. His hands move over all that bare skin with reverence, stroking and petting and grasping.

“You’re beautiful-”

“I love you,” the words rush out at once, urgent. You need him to know, they need to be said.

He looks stunned, leans back with a jerk and stares into your eyes with scrutiny and wonder. You don’t break his gaze.

“Do you really?” He says, breathlessly.

“Yes,” and your eyes are welling with tears, you don’t know why. “I love you, Theseus.”

“God,” he groans, pressing you to him in an embrace so engulfing it makes you gasp. His hand snakes around the back of your head, his other arm wraps around your torso–a man, overcome. “I love you so much, Y/N.”

It’s different when he starts to touch you again. Slower. Devout. He stares dead into your eyes with a concentration unmatched when he slips his fingers into you at last, his own eyes heavy-lidded with sleep and lust. It takes everything in you not to look away, the look in his eyes is so burning with desire it alone could be your ruin, make you come undone.

You feel yourself pulse around him, aching and squeezing around his hand. He curls his index slightly upwards so perfectly that every fuck of his fingers, every pump has you moaning raggedly. Your whole body saying yes, yes, yes to the tempo he’s set.

But you don’t want to come like this.

You start shaking your head before you can get any words out.

He’s watching you so intently he doesn’t need any words to read you.

“What is it?” There’s no teasing to his tone anymore, no condescension. He’s all caring dedication. When he slides his fingers out they’re soaked. “You want my cock?”

You nod, feeling strangely drunk again.

He rolls his still-clothed hips against your bare, slick core experimentally and you moan loudly, inappropriately and unabashedly loudly.

It makes him smile.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. So good. What do you want, baby? How do you want me?”

You can’t even think around him, you don’t know what possesses you to say what you do.

“From the back. I want you to take me from behind.”

Theseus’s eyes flash with something dark. His lips part and for a moment you think he’s going to deny you. He did like looking at your face, watching your reactions…

But then he’s getting up onto his knees and flipping you onto your stomach, roughly. The mattress heaves beneath the two of you.

You start to get up on all fours when his hand pushes you down hard, by the small of your back. Your body presses flat into the mattress with a gasp.

“Theseus-”

He straddles your thighs with his so you can’t even spread your legs when he presses his dick into your tight hole.

You whine and moan at the sensation of being stretched open by him. You can’t move at all trapped under his weight, you can’t even lift your hips–you can just bury your head and take it. He rocks his hips experimentally and, when you moan wantonly again, he leans down, bending his body over yours to nip the back of your ear with his teeth before pounding into you.

You know he just told you he loved you but, god, he was drilling you like he hated you, hand on the back of your neck, his pace relentless, pulling out completely before slamming back into you bruisingly. Your walls try to clamp down to slow his speed but it only makes it feel better, him splitting you open from behind.

You hear him groan at the feel of your walls constricting and fluttering around him. You orgasm suddenly and with a muffled whine, wishing you could roll your hips back into the feeling, but you’re still pinned beneath him, quivering and overstimulated.

Dazed, you distantly remember last time you slept with him and cry brokenly. You don’t want that, him pulling out to come in his hand.

“Theseus, I-” you know you’re incoherent, blabbering. Face half-shoved into his pillow. “Please come inside me. I-I want to feel it when-”

“Fuck,” he hisses. The sound of your voice has him coming hard, you feel it shoot warm into your pussy. His pace slows, rocking his half-hard cock a few more times into you before pulls out with a shaky breath at last.

“Y/N,” Theseus turns you back over. His hands are searching, gentle. When he sees your expression, blissful and fucked-out, he smiles, stroking your face.

“God,” he groans, low, collapsing back down beside you. “I could stay in this bed with you forever.”

You hold onto his hand and bring it up to your mouth to kiss it, body still thrumming with pleasure.

After a while, he speaks again.

“Is.. Was that okay?” He asks, and it silences you, learns into something heavier like pain. “I just want to make sure that you’re not… inebriated anymore, not confused…”

“I was never confused,” you murmur, shaking your head softly. “I meant everything I said yesterday night, though I can’t remember what.”

You realize with a start that you have to be honest now, or you’ll cry.

“It’s bad,” you continue. “I can’t ever pretend to feel something I don’t.”

“You pretended not to know me,” Theseus whispers the words into the pillow beside your head, like he’s setting them down next to you. His voice is too gentle and fond to be an accusation, but you still feel caught, like you’re in trouble.

“I didn’t think you’d remember me anyway. And… I was scared.”

“Of what, darling?”

Darling. This man would be the death of you. You’d give him anything he asked for.

"Um," you bite your bottom lip hard, trying to ground yourself with the sharp reprimand of pain. Darling, he called you darling. "I guess, um, I was happy with how you see me now. That when I asked you to kiss me, you did this time. I didn't want to confuse you, I didn't want to do anything that might make it stop. You wanting me, I mean."

You don't feel terribly eloquent or coherent, but he's nodding encouragingly, understandingly.

He nudges your nose with his to get you to meet his eyes, and it makes you smile like you're just remembering how to. He reintroduces joy into your life like an old friend. Like a family member, it comes so naturally to him.

"I don't wanna scare you away either, Y/N. I told you I love you because I couldn't help it, the same way I touched you in my office because I couldn't help it. But I wanna make you mine in every way that I can."

You raise a brow, prompting him to clarify.

"Like what, you wanna...?" You can't finish the sentence, you need to hear him say it.

“I want to marry you, naturally.” Saying the words knocks something loose in him. The strength of his desire is deafening, like downed wine burning low in his stomach, roaring in his ears.

You laugh and he doesn’t understand or care why, he just knows the sound is angelic and smiles with stupid joy in response.

"Oh, you," you sigh. "Theseus, you could have anyone. Anyone."

You don't mean to sound so bittersweet, so distant and reminiscing. He is handsome and strong and good, without even trying, he just is. He is charismatic and confident. The whole room falls into his orbit, is pulled into his gravity when he enters.

It's not that you have nothing in common, but everything you love about him is everything that keeps him apart from you.

He shakes his head, dazed with happiness.

"There's only ever been you. It's always been you."

"I love you too," your eyes prick with tears. "I love you, Theseus. I'm sorry I didn't tell you who I was, that I hid from you, that I didn't say it earlier. But I've loved you since I was a girl, even if I can't believe that you love me, I can still-"

"Y/N," he interrupts you, hushed and urgent. "I feel like it was very hard for you to love me. You seemed so conflicted and confused and pained, especially at the beginning. But, for me, loving you has been like breathing. This,” he raises your clasped hands between you. “This is easy. It’s who I am.”

When you close your eyes and drift off into a light, midday sleep, there are no clouds in the horizon of your mind, no dreams of war, only a small but glowing peace.

taglist: @hotwheelsenthusiasthic @milasmithsblog @msauthor @asyouwish-fromcabin3 @karashawsblog

#theseus scamander #fantastic beasts #theseus scamander x reader #theseus x reader #hp fanfic #fbawtft

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willyoubemycherryy · 2 months

Text

❦𝒫ℯℯ𝓀 ℴ𝒻 𝓂ℴ𝓂ℯ𝓃𝓉𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓁𝒾𝒻ℯ 𝒶𝓈 𝒞𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓊𝓂’𝓈 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁𝒻𝓇𝒾ℯ𝓃𝒹 ❣︎

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: its her world and hes just living in it😂, singing, intrusive thoughts prevailing, kissing, snuggling, they are in domestic love, fluff( ˘ ³˘)♥︎٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

. ⁂✩.•..*.🜚.*✧.* •

“𝑺𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒏’ 𝒇𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒔, 𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔...”

There was never a dull moment on his days off. Especially if you were there.

The only remote warning that you were back again, was the pattering of your feet and the sound of your breathless giggles as a grin spread across his face. Already anticipating more of your antics.

You seemed to be enjoying his space more than usual today. Following him around the house with your arms wrapped around his middle, humming happily as you walked plastered to his back.

Then jumping to straddle his lap while he was on the couch reading one of his scripts. All so you could cup his face and smoosh your noses together, rolling your hips and singing whatever lyrics came to mind. Like a lovesick romantic (because he is one) he simply entertained you with a broad smile, holding his hands out for you to steady yourself, as you playfully moved your body on his lap.

“One look in my eyes, you know I’m lyin’ lyin!!” He couldn’t help the amused laugh that burst out as you pulled his head to you chest, holding him there dramatically as you serenaded him.

“Body to body! Skin to skin~”, Cheeks starting to hurt from how hard he was smiling. Script long forgotten as he let you subject him to whatever your beautiful mind felt like.

Even to when he was making lunch; coming to stand beside him as you wordlessly take his free hand and hold it. Staring up at him with a cute smile. Chuckling, he raises an eyebrow in question.

“I just missed you, wanted to make sure you weren’t lonely without me. I love you~” You were too adorable. Leaning down, he kisses you softly on the lips, then your forehead.

“Thank you, love. That’s very thoughtful”, nipping your cheek in amusement before adding, “and I love you too”. He coos as you release his hand in favor of crawling under his shirt, sticking your head through the top next to his, almost purring in satisfaction.

Up to now, where he had been napping on his stomach waking before he heard you coming.

The bedroom door bursts open with you singing your newest favorite. “Baby, you can hit me up, up, up all night!”, as you launch through to sit on his bum; briefly shaking the bed by rolling your hips into him, legs on either side of his hips as you stop to knead his lower back. He turns his head with a groan, smiling because he can’t help but to with you.

“Hi Callum”. You whisper, beaming as you bend down to kiss his cheek. Happy as can be after a long day of glueing yourself to him every chance you got.

“Hello pet”. Accented voice deepened from sleep, you bite your lip as you lower yourself to lay on his back.

He wonders what you plan to spring on him this time around and asks as such.

“What might you be up to this time?” He murmers out. Already drifting back to sleep, aided by the feel of your softness pressed against his back.

Kissing his nape, you decide to play nice.

“Nothin’, just came to nap with you. That okay?” Moving to whisper closer to his face, you jut your lips out. Callum peeks open one eye as he lifts his head up, pecking your pouted lips with a lazy hum.

“Okay”.

Sighing, you settle against his back contentedly.

You would bother him more when you both wake up.

#callum turner #callum turner x reader #masters of the air #mota #callum turner fluff #joe rantz x reader #theseus scamander x reader #john egan x reader #thomas webb x reader #the boys in the boat #fantastic beasts #the only living boy in new york #fluff #x reader

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milunalupin · 2 months

Text

— mint to be

remus lupin x reader ★ 1k words

The little bell above the door jingled as the last customer left the bookstore. Remus let out a deep sigh as he looked around at all the picking up and re-sorting he had to do. He went to reach for one of the mint candies by the register he offered to customers, but his hand stopped and brows furrowed as he noticed a few of the candies were missing their wrappers. He picked the bare candies out and tossed them in the bin under the counter before grabbing a new one and popping it in his mouth while he went to get the book cart.

Remus had started working at the bookstore just over a year ago, Mr. Brown being the only shopkeeper in Hogsmeade kind enough to offer him a job with a livable wage. He had always been an avid reader and lover of all literature so it was a match made in heaven. The bookstore was in a quieter corner of the Hogsmeade, standing right across from the town's magical creature research center and rescue. Nothing exciting happened on this side of the village, until he met you.

"Have you got any plans tonight, Remus?"

"No, why do you ask, Sir?"

"Saw your little bird working today, assumed you'd see her once you were done closing up."

Remus' sweater suddenly felt a little too warm, his fingers reaching up to pull at the neckline, as Mr. Brown smirked at him from across the shop. "N-no sir, I'm not."

"You should think about doing that instead of ogling at her all day, eh?" the shopkeeper shook his head and tutted quietly to himself, waving goodbye for the night, leaving his embarrassed employee alone in the bookstore.

Remus was never the most talkative person in the first place, but the moment you walked into Brown's Bookshop, he had suddenly forgotten every word he'd ever read. You had introduced yourself as Mr. Scamander's new apprentice, babbling on about your love for magical creatures, to which Remus could only smile and nod as he tried not to fall in love with you right then and there. You left the shop that day with a few books on your favorite beasts and an admirer.

Remus wishes he had met you back at Hogwarts, where he might've been lucky enough to be partnered with you in a class, or perhaps he would've been brave enough to invite you to one of the parties his friends always hosted. Now he just watches you through the shops windows like a fucking creep. It's not like he didn't want to talk to you, but how could he? Remus sighed at took one more glance out the window before leaving the shop himself, locking up and heading home with a heavy heart.

You froze as soon as you walked into work this morning, golden wrappers scattered across the floor, your eyes squinting in suspicion. You picked up the wrappers on your way to the backroom where the new Niffler rescue was, shoving them in the pocket of your cardigan.

"Hey little guy." you coed softly, picking up the small fluffy creature, and bringing him to your face. He squirmed in your hands, reaching for the corner of plastic sticking out of your pocket. "Are all these wrappers your doing?"

In a second the Niffler was out of your hands and scurrying out he door. You grabbed your wand as well as a small cage and dashed out the door, eyes scanning the cobblestone streets. "Oh you're going to be in so much trouble!"

You caught a flash of blue fur and ran ahead, apologizing to the Hogsmeade patrons you bumped into on the way. Hurrying into the shop, you failed to notice which fine establishment the little troublemaker had led you into, only realizing as reached the front desk as saw one surprised Remus Lupin.

"Hello there, can I help you with anything?" Rosy cheeks and warm eyes greeted you, his big sweater and fluffy hair making him look exceptionally huggable.

"Remus, hi! Yes, it seems that.." your eyes trailed down from the face you've been not-so-discreetly staring at every time you go to work to the wooden bowl next to the register. It was filled with gold wrapped mints with a 'Please take one!' post it note stuck to the side. You felt hot with embarrassment, making a mental note to not give the Niffler extra treats today. "That little-"

Squeak!

The two of your turned to see the blue devil standing on the book cart with his paws on the side of his head is surprise. You cast 'Accio' on the mini beast and made sure the cage was locked once he was inside.

"So he was the wrapper thief, huh." Remus chuckled, coming around to your side of the counter and bending down to look at the Niffler behind his tiny bars, sticking a finger through the gate to pet the creature.

"I'm so sorry for any disturbances and inconveniences he's caused, I owe you one, Remus." you sent him a tight lipped smile and turned to head back to work to save you from any further embarrassment.

"Actually, you would do me a huge favor favor by coming with me to the Three Broomsticks tonight." he suggested, stuffing his hands in his trouser pockets.

"Really." a surprised laugh left you, your cheeks warming up as he stepped closer to you. "Well, I suppose I could help you out there."

"After I close up I'll come grab you and we'll have a bite and a round of Butterbeers, does that sound alright with you?" his eyebrows went up in question, a shy smile adorning his flushed face.

You agreed and and basically skipped back to work, missing the way Remus fist pumped the air, taking another candy as his reward for finally asking you out.

The niffler tittered in his cage, with you laughing along with him. As you places him back in his enclosure, you could've sworn to Merlin he winked at you.

#marauders era #marauders x reader #marauders #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader

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moonstruckme · 9 months

Note

could i request Scamander!Reader x Remus Lupin? Maybe they have been going on dates for a few months but turns out she knew he was a werewolf? She just didn't say anything cause she wanted to wait for him to tell her, but after a full moon, Remus got hurt like really really bad so when he wakes up the next morning he is at nursing and the reader is helping with his wounds (cause she's an scamander so she obviously should now how to fix werewolfs wounds fr)

and remus kinda freaks out because she isn't supposed to be there and starts trying to make excuses about his wounds

Thanks for requesting! I'm not a Scamander myself hehe so I had to look up some werewolf stuff but I hope this is alright :)

Remus Lupin x Scamander!reader ♡ 653 words

Remus wakes feeling like he always does after a full moon: exhausted, groggy, and so, so sore. From the brightness against his eyelids and the sounds around him, he knows he's in the infirmary. It's not uncommon, and as humiliating as the whole ordeal can be, he's glad to have Madam Pomfrey to care for him as he heals from the previous night's...events.

But when he opens his eyes, it's not Madam Pomfrey that sits at his bedside, applying some sort of paste to the gouge across his ribcage.

He must inhale or twitch in his surprise, because your attention turns to his face, your hands stilling.

"You're awake," you say, looking at Remus with eyes full of kindness and sympathy. He feels like he might vomit. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," he says, too sharply, and hurt flashes across your features. Remus' heart is pounding, but he forces himself to take a breath, muzzling his panic. Still, his voice trembles slightly as he asks, "Y/N, love, what are you doing here?"

You smile softly, and Remus knows he's forgiven. "I knew there was some dittany in the greenhouse, so I thought I'd bring some to help heal you."

"I..." Why weren't you asking more questions? You and Remus had only been dating for a few months, and you'd yet to see him in the aftermath of a transformation. He hadn't had to lie to you yet, to make up excuses for why he missed days of class every month and reappeared with new scars. "I was out with Sirius and James last night, and we got fairly wasted." He forces what he hopes is a sheepish grin, though it doesn't feel very convincing. "I took a tumble down a hill, and well..." he gestures to his torn-up torso, shrugging as if it's just further evidence of he and his friends' foolishness.

"Remus," you say, and the nausea is back, your tone far too knowing for Remus' liking, "honey, it's okay. I wanted you to be able to tell me in your own time, but after last night..." You pause, your face pinching in distress as your eyes run over his wounds, ugly and oozing. "I couldn't just not help anymore. I'm sorry."

Remus' stomach is really roiling now, his entire body caught between fight and flight as he reckons with the shock of your admission and his bafflement at your composure. "You knew?" His voice comes out accusatory, but he can hardly muster the energy to correct it. "For how long?"

"I mean, it took me a couple weeks of getting to know you to figure it out." You shrug, going back to gently pressing the dittany to his wounds. "But really, Remus, it doesn't matter to me. I only care about being able to be there for you, to help."

A couple weeks, it'd taken you to learn his secret. So you'd known for months, while Remus had fretted over hiding his headaches from you and worrying that you'd eventually see him just like this, and now here you were. Remus takes a moment to look at you, the tenderness with which you touch him, careful to avoid hurting him further, the patience in your eyes as you wait for his response.

"You really aren't afraid?" he asks. Despite years of sharing all of himself with James and Sirius, Remus finds himself nearly unable to trust it. "Disgusted? Angry with me?"

The look you give him borders on offence, though there's still that same gentle sympathy in your eyes. "Merlin, Remus, of course not. I know it can't be easy for you, and I wouldn't expect you to tell me before you're ready. It's just...another part of you." You smile a bit, and Remus can't help but return it, bewildered and feeling very much on the precipice of falling in love. "And I like all of you, so there."

#remus lupin #werewolf remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #scamander!reader #remus x reader #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fluff

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obessedwithfictionalmen · 2 months

Text

Young, dumb in love

Theseus Scamander X Wizard!Reader

Summary: Theseus and Y/n had always been in love with the other. Now that an extraordinary event occurs, it will bring them closer

Warning: Pregnancy/ Mention of birth/ inaccuracies (powers, medical)/ use of Y/n/ not really following the movie timeline

Word count: 1.5k

Y/n and Theseus met because of Newt. All 3 of them were in Hufflepuff and Y/n didn’t have any friends. Newt sat next to her one day and they became friends, then, she met Newt’s older brother, Theseus. She was instantly attracted to him, and it was the same for him, he thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Years went by and they were both 20. After a one-night stand, Y/n started to feel nauseous, she feared that the protection they wore, didn’t do its job. So, when the test came back positive, it was time to break the news to Theseus.

‘’You might want to sit down’’ Y/n warned the man. ‘’What are you going to tell me? You’re not pregnant, are you?’’ he joked. Y/n’s heart sank, she became pale. ‘’Well, yes, I am Theseus, I did 4 tests, they all came back positive’’ she nervously said. Theseus immediately felt bad from what he just said. He was happy, he was going to be a dad, having a family of his own as always been his dream. ‘’Oh my! Y/n that’s an amazing news! I can’t wait to tell Newt!’’ He smiles. Y/n breath out in relief, her eyes fill with tears, happy tears. ‘’So, you’re happy?’’ she asked. ‘’Yes, it’s wonderful!’’ he exclaimed, hugging her.

‘’Thank you for inviting me over, it’s been a while since I’ve saw you. How are you, Y/n?’’ Newt says, sitting at the table. Y/n and Theseus didn’t have a game plan, they didn’t think about a way to announce it. ‘’I’m great, Newt, by the way, you’re going to be an uncle.’’ She blurted out. Newt dropped his fork as he looked at them. ‘’What?’’ he mumbled. ‘’I’m pregnant, Newt. And Theseus is the father’’ she smiled. ‘’Really?’’ he smiled. Theseus nodded and took Y/n’s hand. ‘’That’s amazing! Congratulations! I’m going to be an uncle!’’ he exclaimed, he looked really happy. ‘’That’s why the Qilin was so excited, he saw the baby’s soul’’ he murmurs. ‘’This early?’’ Y/n asked, putting a hand on her stomach. Newt nodded and smiled. Theseus smiled to his brother as they continued to talk about life.

Her stomach was starting to show, she was so happy. She was looking at herself in the mirror, smiling. ‘’Theseus! Come here!’’ she yelled. He ran upstairs, afraid something bad happened to her. ‘’Are you okay? Is the baby, okay? Do I need to call Newt?’’ he quickly said. Y/n laughed and shook her head. ‘’Look, I’m showing! Can you see it!’’ she lifted her shirt, exposing her small bump. Theseus calmed down and looked at her belly. ‘’Oh my, that’s amazing!’’ he dropped to his knees and put his hand on her stomach. ‘’Hello little one, I’m your father. I don’t know if you can hear me, but I can’t wait to meet you’’ he whispered. Y/n’s eyes filled with tears. ‘’You made me cry’’ she said, wiping her tears. He got up and hugged her, kissing her cheek in the process. They didn’t figure out what their relationship was, it pained them both. ‘’Y/n, what are we?’’ he whispered in her ear. ‘’I don’t know, but I know that I love you, more than a friend’’ she replied. They stopped hugging and sat on the bed. ‘’I want to be more than a friend to you, Y/n. I love you, you’re the mother of my child, that’s the most important thing. I want to be with you, if you’ll allow me to’’ he confessed. Y/n cried even more. ‘’I love you too, yes, I’ll allow it, silly’’ she laughed as they kissed.

‘’Why is the Qilin in our house?’’ Theseus asked his girlfriend and brother as he entered his home. Y/n turned around; her belly was getting bigger. 3 months left in her pregnancy, they recently discovered that she was carrying twins, a boy and a girl. Her belly was really big, but she was happy. Newt looked at his brother and smiled. ‘’He was grumpy, and the only thing that calms him down is seeing the twin’s soul.’’ Newt explained as Y/n petted the small animal. Theseus looked at Y/n shirt, it had a weird shape. ‘’Oh, the Niffler is in there, he wanted somewhere warm to sleep’’ she explained. Theseus swore under his breath and let out a sigh. ‘’Newt, I don’t want you creatures to roam around the house and risk hurting – ‘’ Y/n cut him off. ‘’Shush! They’re kicking!’’ she said, touching her belly. Theseus stopped his sentence and went near his girlfriend. ‘’Here’’ she took his hand and placed it where the baby kicked. He smiled to her when he felt it. ‘’That’s beautiful’’ he whispered. ‘’Newt, do you want to touch?’’ she asked. He nodded and put his hand on her stomach. They all looked at each other, smiling, tears in their eyes.

‘’For the last time, Thesus, it was a Braxton Hicks contraction. I’m okay’’ she said, rubbing her stomach. ‘’But if you go into labour and I’m not there!’’ he said. ‘’I will call you. I’m safe, Newt’s coming and the Qilin can sense the babies, I promise, go to work, get that promotion’’ she said. ‘’If there’s any change, even another Braxton Hicks, call me’’ he said. She nodded as he left his home, at the same time, Newt entered. ‘’I thought he’d never leave’’ Y/n chuckles. Pickett comes out of Newt’s pocket to jump on Y/n’s belly. ‘’Hello, you’’ she squeals. The creatures smile and jumps on her belly as a sign of joy. ‘’When’s your due date?’’ he asked, sitting on the couch. ‘’Yesterday, that’s why he’s so nervous’’ she says, smiling. The Qilin gets out of Newt’s case and sits next to her, resting his head on her belly. ‘’He’s always been nervous, but I get him’’ he says. ‘’Can you do me a favour? Can you go and make some raspberry leaf tea, Muggles say it helps the woman going into labour’’ she explains as Newt goes to make tea. She pets the Qilin as she waits for her boyfriend’s brother. She feels a pain in her stomach, so she takes deep breath to make them pass, but it doesn’t work. She doesn’t tell Newt, because she’s not sure if they’re real or not. The Qilin rise his head, looking at Y/n. His eyes talk: C’mon, tell him. Y/n shakes her head, Pickett squeaks. ‘’What are they trying to tell you?’’ Newt asks as he puts her cup down. ‘’They want me to tell you that I’m having contractions, but I’m not sure if they’re real or not’’ she confesses.

‘’I swear, you’re lucky I’m carrying two! Because I’m not doing this again” she moaned in pain. Theseus rubbed her back and tried to support her the best he could. She had been in labor for 13 hours without medication because it could be dangerous for the babies. ‘’You’re so strong, my darling, keep breathing, you got this’’ he praised her. Y/n felt pressure down there, like she needed to push. ‘’I need to push, like right now!’’ she announced. ‘’Go ahead, sweetie’’ the nurse called out. She pushed with all the energy she had left to try and get one of her babies out. ‘’You’re a warrior, come on give me another push like that and one of them is out’’ the nurse encouraged her. She pushed again. This time, the room was filled with cries, baby cries. Y/n let out a breath as she looked at her baby. ‘’It’s a boy’’ Their baby boy was born first, Y/n sobbed with joy. ‘’You did it, my love, our boy is here’’ Theseus calls out. ‘’Come on, Y/n, push again’’ the nurse calls out. ‘’Bollocks, I have to do it again’’ she groaned in pain. Theseus chuckled as he supported her again. 15 minutes later, Y/n was sitting with her girl in her arms, while Theseus was holding their boy. Newt came in the room, with Tina, Jacob, and Queenie following him. ‘’Congratulations!’’ Queenie squeals. Y/n smiles, she was exhausted and only wanted to sleep, but she wanted to be there for her guests. ‘’How did it go?’’ Tina asked, more calmly. ‘’It was so long, but I’m happy that they’re here’’ Y/n says. ‘’Do you want to know their names?’’ Theseus says, looking at the guests. ‘’That’s Emory Scamander’’ Y/n announces, smiling. ‘’And that’s Eugene Newton Scamander’’ at the sound of his name, Newt’s eyes fill with tears. ‘’You named him after me?’’ he softly asks. They both nod and smile. ‘’Oh’’ he softly reacts. ‘’Two E names, was it intentional?’’ Jacob laughs. ‘’Emory means strength and leadership and Eugene means noble’’ Y/n explains. ‘’You guys are such a beautiful family’’ Queenie says. Y/n and Theseus felt like it, a family. After all this time of loving each other, they now had children together. They were the happiest they’ve ever been.

#callum turner #callum turner x reader #callum turner imagine #theseus scamander #theseus scamander x reader #fantastic beasts

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nincompoopydoo · 3 months

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hi i have a req for your vday celebration for this line 'have you no compassion for my poor nerves? ’ for theseus scamander!! going on a trip with newt looking for some new mythical creature to draw and you somehow get injured and theseus gets worried so like angst + fluff pls

IN SEARCH OF A GRECIAN BEAST

PAIRING: Theseus Scamander x Reader WORD COUNT: 1.1k SUMMARY: As you, Theseus, and Newt find yourselves on a secluded Grecian beach along the Aegean Sea, an endeavor unfolds to seek out a Hippocampus. However, plans don't turn out as expected. A/N: An angsty yet light-hearted fic in a way. Hope you guys love this lil Theseus one-shot~ WARNINGS: near drowning. angst. Newt literally has no compassion when he’s excited about his beasts lol. PROMPT: “Have you no compassion for my poor nerves?” [from this prompt list] MASTERLIST

“Pray, Theseus, allow yourself a respite! Quit moaning and come with us,” you whine with an exaggerated, sarcastic tone as you trudge down the rocky slope that leads to a stretch of golden sand. Newt is way ahead, feet already on the sand as he scuttles across the rugged coastline that looks upon the Aegean Sea.

Theseus huffs at your words, watching the way your linen top billows in the sea breeze, gleaming under the scorching summer sun. He decides he has no other choice than to follow begrudgingly. He stumbles on his feet, shells crunching at contact, and sees you looking back at him, eyes bright. The curve of your smile goes unnoticeable.

“I thought we were meant to be on holiday,” he calls out to you and his brother.

You merely laugh, and Newt responds without turning back, “Nobody mentioned a holiday, Theseus.”

Theseus scoffs, “Well, I presumed it was, considering you invited me to Greece. Of all places!”

Without warning, you abruptly halt, swiftly turning to face him.

“We find ourselves on this beautiful, secluded Grecian beach, and you're complaining?” You gesture to your surroundings in big movements, arms moving in sweeping motions.

You’re right, he’s being dramatic. Perhaps he finds himself a little sceptical towards your shenanigans with Newt. How you were always closer to his brother than him, even though he never dared admit it to himself that he wished it was the other way around.

Theseus is silent when you fix him with a stern gaze, nearing him. “All I’m saying is, you should loosen up a little.”

There it is. That glint in your stare. It’s hopeful.

Theseus realised long ago that he would do anything for you and be anything you wanted him to be.

“I am loose. I can be loose.”

Your laugh comes off more like a scoff. You don’t believe him one bit. “Right.”

Then, your fist connects with his arm. It’s playful, just like old times. Theseus winces, his palm instinctively rubbing his bicep as he shoots you a maddened look. Despite the irritation etched on his face, the subtle curve on his lips betrays it.

You laugh again. It’s light and sends his heart thrumming faster than ever.

“Come on –”

"Look!" newt exclaims, his voice ringing out excitedly. “Over there.” He points toward the shore with the widest grin Theseus has ever seen.

You immediately grip Theseus’ wrist, pulling him along as you dash towards Newt.

“Hippocamps,” you breathe out, merely a whisper, eyes trained on the clear waters beyond.

Theseus turns to you and clocks on your wide-eyed gaze. Your mouth hangs slightly agape in utter awe as you take in the scene unravelling before you. Glints of deep blue swirl under the crystal waters, their scales glistening like scattered glitter under the Grecian sun.

Then, you release your hold on his hand.

“I’m going in.”

The brothers snap their heads to you, “What?”

You turn to Theseus, “I know these creatures better than anyone. You know that.” Then, your gaze shifts to Newt, “Even more than you, Newt.”

A beat. He sees that you’re now looking at him expectantly as if you need his assurance. That he trusts you. He really doesn’t know why you need it.

“Just… be careful.”

You purse your lips and nod. “I will.”

The waves lap rhythmically as you approach the waters cautiously, gentling wading through and towards the Hippocampi. The water rises to your waist. You catch a hint of a tail under the sunlight, iridescent and reflecting the ocean's blue and green hues.

You take a deep breath – the key is to be calm. Extremely calm. You extend your palm, luminous kelp in your grasp, hoping to lure the creature.

Then, its head emerges from the waters, a horse for a head. The creature curiously eyes the kelp in your hand as you watch in controlled excitement as the others drift closer. You cannot help but smile.

Yet, something beneath you rumbles. It’s so slight that you almost miss it. But it sends a rippling uneasiness to your surroundings that it alarms the creatures. The air shifts, and before you know it, the Hippocampi sense an unseen threat and quickly disappear into the ocean.

Your smile drops.

You see it, a sleek form of green drifting in the depths beneath you. It glides through the water with stealth.

Ashore, Theseus senses your concern. “Something’s wrong.”

Then, he sees you turn to them with panicked eyes.

Abruptly, the water erupts with a powerful surge, and a beast rises from the depths and leaps into the air. Its mane of waterweed cascades with its movement.

It’s a Kelpie.

Newt and Theseus watch in stunned silence.

As the Kelpie vanishes beneath the waves, you’re gone.

Theseus’ heart drops.

Instinctively, Theseus calls your name, charging towards the place you stood moments before. In his sprint, he throws a quick, urgent glance over his shoulder at Newt, who scrambles closely behind, his expression etched with mirrored exasperation.

“Why in Godric’s name is a Kelpie doing here?!”

“That’s a good question –”

Theseus isn’t listening anymore. He can’t think right now, his heart pounding fiercely. Each step intensifies the knot in his stomach.

He finds himself slicing through the waves and propelled beneath the surface. His vision goes blur momentarily; elusive silhouettes move around him like drifting shadows. But as his eyes begin to take focus, he sees Newt, a feet away, seemingly going after the Kelpie.

Theseus whirls around, eyes scanning his surroundings.

He sees you, conscious. You’re looking at him with wide eyes, struggling to stay afloat.

Theseus closes in, and he reaches out, arms enveloping you. With a forceful pull, you are brought to the surface, head heavy against his chest. Your sharp gasp pierces the air, it resonates loudly, but it settles a sense of relief in Theseus.

As you’re pulled to shore, you’re induced into a coughing fit, water forcefully expelling from your lips. Theseus hovers above you, his hand on the back of your head, lifting it from the ground in an attempt to ease your choking. His other palm rests against your cheek firmly.

He says your name, his voice laced with reassurance, yet his gaze lingers with a perpetual panic as he hovers above you, the sunlight casting a halo through his tousled hair. Theseus looks truly distressed.

“Have you no compassion for my poor nerves?!” he exclaims, exasperated in all his dramatic and uptight glory.

“Just… trying to keep you on your… toes, that’s all,” you manage to croak out.

Theseus's laugh passes off as an exhale and grins, shaking his head. Quickly, he presses a kiss to your forehead.

You instantly feel your cheeks start to burn.

“Don’t ever do that again.”

You just smile. “No promises.”

Then, laughter echoes in the distance. Both of you turn to find Newt emerging from the shore, eyes bright.

"That was incredible!"

#theseus scamander x you #theseus scamander x reader #theseus scamander #theseus scamander imagine #crimes of grindelwald #fantastic beats and where to find them #theseus x reader

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