trout-lips

anonymous asked:

Something where Graves is super protective. You're wearing a dress that he knows will make people hit on you, and so he decides to go with you ends up getting jealous and just picks you up( like In fright night 2011, with the club scene) Like the imaginyou imagine- just extended (English is not my first languege but im excited to see what you can do to my fav Character- greetings from Spain <3 )

Hi lovely! Firstly, wow! A reader from Spain! I’m really excited! Hi from Malaysia! Sorry for the delay in getting this story done, I apparently have problem writing anything that’s not angst. I tried to do my best to recreate the club scene from Fright Night and I hope this is what you had in mind! 

Warning: This story contains mature content and some coarse language.


“You’re not going.”

You rolled your eyes, head still hidden away in the massive oak wardrobe you shared as you try to find your favourite pair of shoes, the ones you wear only when you’re trying to look your best.

Finally finding them from amongst the organised chaos of the wardrobe, you huffed and pushed back your curled hair. You threw a retort over your shoulder even as you slip on your heels, wobbling briefly as you tried to find your balance. “I’ll be with my old friends Percival, and besides, I did ask you to come with me, but you’re the one who decided that you were, I quote, “far too old for such nonsense”.” You paused to admire your figure in the full length mirror and smiled when you noticed Percival’s dark gaze on you; you made the right choice wearing this dress tonight. Honestly though, it wasn’t anything too provocative; if anything, it was rather proper and covered everything it should, although it did a beautiful job of accentuating everything you (and he) loved about your body. The burgundy dress fell just above your knees, and the gorgeous scalloped neckline showed off your delicate collarbones.

Pouting slightly, you sauntered over to your sullen lover and wrapped your arms around his neck. Almost automatically, his arms encircled your waist and you leaned into his solid embrace, enjoying the small moment of intimacy. “Darling, it’s not like we’re going to one of those shabby No-Maj clubs, I promise I’ll be fine. I’ll even be back before midnight, so there’s nothing for you to be worried about.” He sighed and pushed a loose strand of hair away from your face, “It’s not your safety I’m worried about, I know you can take care of yourself. It’s just,” he gestured exasperatedly at you, “look at you! I don’t want other men staring at you like you’re some piece of meat when you’re mine-” Placing a finger against his lips, you cut off any of his forthcoming protests. You peppered light kisses along his jaw, “If you don’t want men ogling at me, all you have to do is come with me.” A groan escaped the formidable Auror’s lips, and you grinned triumphantly, knowing he’d give in. Five minutes later, the two of you Apparated to the wizarding pub where you would be meeting your old friends from Hogwarts.


Percival chuckled as he listened to Emmaline, your Ravenclaw best friend who got a job as a Potion Master’s assistant upon graduating, animatedly recounting all the times you got everyone in trouble whilst in school. You buried your face in his shoulder in embarrassment as you endured the good-natured ribbing at your past as a troublemaker, but secretly you were thrilled that your lover was getting along so well with your friends. These were people who stayed up late at night with you, trying to finish last minute assignments, they were the people who comforted you through your first breakup and who you confided in when you finally had your first kiss in your sixth year. You had missed them terribly after you moved to America, and while communication between the lot of you was sporadic and not as often as you had initially hoped it would be, the bond was still there, as evidenced by the squeals and hugs and crying that greeted you when you saw them upon your arrival.

Percival initially intimidated your group of friends, what with his serious demeanour and the regal way he held himself, even when not at work. But your friends quickly got over his scary appearance and treated him as their own; it helped that Percival had a very sharp, dry wit that delighted them. Also, the man could hold his liquor, which immediately won him points in his favour. The hours passed easily, filled with easy camaraderie and joviality and Percival found himself enjoying the company of your friends, who obviously meant a lot to you. The night couldn’t have gone any better, and you were glad to have been able to spend it with the people closest to your heart.

Everything however, went downhill when Percival excused himself to use the gents’. You went to the bar to get some more drinks because you were the only one who could still walk without falling over (you were a lightweight, so you watched the amount of alcohol you consumed. You didn’t want to have to deal with Apparating whilst drunk; that was one messy experience you didn’t want to have to go through again), and you were immediately accosted by a drunken boar of a man, whom you recognised as a petty thief whom you and your colleagues at MACUSA have apprehended more than a few times. He either didn’t recognise you, or he was far too drunk to care that he was hitting on an Auror who had once been responsible for him being in jail; one who was engaged to the Director of Magical Security, no less.

“Hey doll, fancy lettin’ a real man show ya how to have a good time?” You shuddered when he winked sloppily at you, you couldn’t believe he actually thought he looked attractive doing that eye twitch. Ignoring him, you took your drinks and made to move around him, but the drunkard placed his meaty hand on your arm, his fingers clumsily trying to trail a path. You glared at him and bared your teeth, “Get your hand off me dumbass, or you’ll be seeing the bars of a cell tonight.” It infuriated you that the man only laughed and proceeded to tug you over to him, catching you off guard as you lost your balance momentarily and stumbled. You cried out when your drinks fell to the floor, the liquid splashing onto your feet and the floor. Turning to acquaint his face with your fist, you were instead unpleasantly surprised by his trout-like lips on yours, and oh god was that tongue?!

Before you could hex the bejeezus out of the poor excuse of a man, he was suddenly pulled away from you, and you gasped in delight when you saw your Percival throw a punch straight at his face, effectively knocking him out. Your friends were standing behind Percival, confusion at the situation plainly written on their faces. Your lover turned towards you, and you threw your arms around him relieved, not noticing the dark look on his face. Realising he wasn’t returning your embrace, you pulled away slightly and for the second time that night, had a kiss forcefully pressed on your lips, although this was much more welcomed than the first. Breaking the kiss, your dark-haired beau didn’t give you a chance to explain or speak, and you shivered in delight at the husky tone his low voice took on as he whispered in your ear “You’re going to say goodbye to your friends and we’re going to leave this god-forsaken place. When we get home, you’ll get rid of that damn dress and I’ll fuck you so hard the neighbours will be able to hear you scream my name through the walls. All right?”

You were stunned and so very turned on by his promise to you that you could only nod wordlessly before complying. Walking as fast as you could to your friends who immediately broke out in questions for you, you told them, as nicely as you possibly could in your lust induced fog, that you had to go, and you would see them again before they were due to return to London. You were just heading to find Percival when you saw him stalk confidently towards you, and you felt a rush of heat pool in your belly, knowing that you were his prey that he was just dying to devour. As soon as he reached you, he tugged at your hand roughly and in one swift motion, threw you over his broad shoulder in a fireman’s carry. You squealed when he smacked your arse unexpectedly, and he soothed the sting by rubbing on your behind lovingly. You waved goodbye at your friends who were hooting and cat-calling at the both of you as Percival made his way out of the pub with you dangling helplessly over his shoulder, and just like that, he Apparated you home.

As soon as the world stopped spinning, you pulled Percival by the collar of his shirt into your bedroom. Throwing you down on the king-sized bed, he began divesting himself of his clothes while ordering you to strip, which you did, tripping over yourself in your eagerness. Percival made good on his promises, and your poor neighbours had to endure an entire night of animalistic screams and the sounds of your bed banging against the wall. The next day at work, when Tina innocently asked you if you were okay after noticing the way you were walking awkwardly, you made some flimsy excuse about how you slipped in the bath and bruised yourself, all the while promising to kill a smugly smiling Percival who very “helpfully” told Tina he would take good care of you. The git.


Bonus: Colin Farrell gif that’s making me melt and god I don’t know what it’s doing to me

Originally posted by colinfarrellfanpage