Sweet Serenity: A personal collection of written "x M!reader/Reader"'s

Care (Newt Scamander x M!Reader)

The first one shot of 2019. I hadn't realized I was going to be so intrigued by Fantastic Beasts until I watched both the movies. I can't lie that Newt and Eddie Redmayne are extremely handsome and have beautiful personalities.

There's a note that says that this was for an OC of mine (something I made in 2018) that I then turned into a "x Reader". Also, I found that OC and remade it into something SO much better. I also remade the entire fanfic so it sounds "better" haha. I kept the same plot, I just added better vocabulary and dialogue and such.

Feel free to suggest any character you want me to write here:

WARNINGs: slow, slow burn, mild angst, sensitive topics(ish)

Enjoy...

He couldn't breathe.

He couldn't speak.

He couldn't hear.

Yet he could see, beyond the dark abyss of his desired dreams and fantasies, those eyes. Those blue, green eyes. The ones that seemed to manually stop every unconscious part of his body, no, his entire being. Those eyes filled with compassion and empathy, kindness and understanding. He longed to be in the presence of when those eyes would fold into those of longing and desire, like his on them. But he knew it would only be in his dreams.

(M/n) opened his reddened eyes, having opening them multiple times throughout the night; his mind slipping in and out of consciousness seemingly every few minutes. His body ached with the feeling of dread knowing that he'd have to go spend another full day trying to sell his books at that dreadful library, forcing time away from his admired one and depriving him of restful nights. He rolled on his side, his apartment bed creaking every so slightly, and droned out peacefully to the calming sound of silence. (M/n) was always one to relax in the softness of the world, and the wonderful silence it brings; the calming peace eased him from the troubles of life and he wouldn't want it either way... we'll, except one way. 

He looked at his bedside alarm clock. It was two in the morning. He shifted his gaze back into empty-space and let his thoughts meander. Soon enough they wandered back to his dreams; (M/n)'s face heated as he thought back to the beautiful image that plagued and haunted his most wonderful dreams. He groaned, curled into himself, and willed himself to sleep, and to do anything but picture those picturesque irises.

His attempts were futile as he, once again, tossed and turned. Not quite able to stop his rampant thoughts. So, instead he flung his quilt off his already steaming body and kicked his feet right off the bedside. He yawned, feeling with his right hand for his (insert wand wood type) wand on the nightstand, and using the backside of his left hand to rub away the sleep from his face. After, he reached over at the end of the bed where he last threw his satin robe; he sleepily shoved his arms through the sleeves and wrapped the string around him, and securing the robe with a knot. (M/n) made his way out of his room and to his kitchen.

He flicked his wand as he mumbled, "Piertotum Locomotor."

A kettle flew its way to the water cooler. Soon after filling itself up, it carefully whisked it's way to be boiled on the stove. A packet of good old fashioned (tea/coffee) animated to life and proceeded to prepare itself. As his drink was nearly finished, he placed himself at the kitchen window and sat on the sill. He reached his hand out, not leaving his gaze from the beautiful night sky, as his hot and ready mug of (tea/coffee) gingerly placed itself in his grasp.

(M/n) brought his drink to his semi-chapped lips. It was currently winter in New York and he neither liked it or despised it, despite the fact he hated how sensitive he was to the cold even after living there for quite some time. The frost on the housetops gleamed lightly under the night stars and nearby illuminating streetlights.