Newt Scamander Imagines

tipsy ( 2 )

Imagine drinking a little too much, only to have Newt find you in an alleyway and take you back to his flat where you tell him you love him.

Your head was spinning, your body swerved from left to right, all you wanted to do was close your eyes. The sounds of the cars rushing past you caused your eyes to jolt open, as much as you wanted them closed. The side walk was scattered with hundreds of people, many of which aggressively nudged past you, occasionally shouting things like "Get off the road lady!" or "Watch where you're going!". How can there be so many people on the streets on a Monday night? you thought to yourself. The bright city lights inflict a unbearable headache, the worst one you've ever had.

Tears of frustration begin to run down your face and you quickly rush into an area where it is dark and people-free. You find yourself wobbling down an alleyway connecting two tall New York buildings. Suddenly, as if the world was pushing on your whole body, you collapse on the cold, dirty ground.

Out of instinct you reach in your coat pocket and shuffle your hands around until you feel your fingers curl around your thin wand. At that moment, you seemed to have forgotten any spells you ever knew. You didn't even know why you pulled out the wand.

Tears continue to pour down your face and your body began to quiver from the low temperatures. You've never felt so vulnerable, so helpless, so tired. Your body slowly shuts down and your eyes are unable to stay open, you allow yourself to sleep because nothing else seemed as important.

"Y/N!" a familiar voice cries out. You quickly jolt up and grip your wand that you hadn't realized fell beside you. You then realize how dumb this was considering you had forgotten how to use it. What's going on?

A gentle hand grips your arm and you force yourself to open your eyes slightly. In front of you a disheveled Newt crouches down and looks at your face, a slight frown on his own. Suddenly, you begin to laugh... and laugh... and laugh. You couldn't stop laughing. His eyebrows furrow together trying to figure out what's funny. Not even you knew what was funny.

"Newtie!" you giggle and then laugh again once you've realized you've never once called him 'Newtie' in your life. "You here to save me?" you slur as your head falls to the side.

"You're drunk?" he asks putting his hand on your cheek. The warmth of his hand makes you reach out and grab it, wanting to somehow steal all of his heat. "You don't drink." he sighs, a sad look on his pale face.

You huff, seeing your breath fly from your mouth and begin to trace the creases of Newt's hands with your finger, "I was walking down the streets and stopped when I saw a pub! I decided it would be best if I had a drink so I wouldn't look so sad, than I began to feel very lo-ooopy," you reenact this by lolling your head from left to right. "I think the muggle bartender put something really strong in my drink."

He closes his eyes for what seemed like an eternity, almost as if he was disappointed in you. "That's called alcohol Y/N." He sighed once again and decided not to ask you any more questions until he got you out of the horrid alley.

He straightens his legs and stands up, you try to attempt this as well but dizzily fall foward, thankfully a pair of familiar arms catch you. "Woah there," he pushes back the hair that had fallen in front of your face. He turns slightly pink and sweeps you off your feet. He decided he was going to carry you back to his flat.

"Newtie," you mumble, your face in his warm chest, "I'm cold." He immediately stops in his tracks and carefully places you on the cold ground near a shop, the lights once again give you a massive headache. He then begins to take off his long blue coat that he wears everywhere, and cradles it around you like a blanket. You snuggle into it and take in the iconic scent of Newt, pine and tea.