Warning: smut! This was originally published on Ao3 on April 1st, 2017 and is being included here for the sake of my own ego.
Find me on Tumblr katiehavok, if that's your thing.
The night started innocently enough, if on a rather bittersweet note. A lovely meal, compliments of Queenie, and a lemon pound cake for dessert—Newt's favorite. Then a glass of whiskey shared before the fire, and questions about who would write whom first, and how long it would take him to reach India, and other, more trivial things.
Tina moves closer to him in increments until Newt can feel the press of her thigh against his. She gives him her new address and he returns the gesture, the lines scrawled on a piece of vellum using her pen with its practical mother-of-pearl handle. More whiskey followed, and questions that border on risqué, and somewhere in there they swayed close enough for their lips to first brush, then meet, and—
Magic. It was magic, in its purest form.
Tina's mouth is exquisite against his and softer than he ever dared to imagine. She is not a skilled kisser, lips rather clumsy in their eagerness, but whatever she lacks in experience is more than made up for with enthusiasm. She leans into him as if he is air and she is drowning, and he matches her kiss for kiss until they part with a ragged gasp and her face finds a home against his neck.
"I'm sorry," he mumbles into the soft curve of her cheek. "I realize we've only recently become engaged. Please don't think me too forward."
Tina makes a low sound before tentative but incredible lips find the skin of his throat, dropping tiny, heated kisses there. Goosebumps erupt, and he shivers and closes his eyes to lean into the contact.
"It's okay," she whispers between kisses. "We've both waited. I want this. Please don't apologize." Her mouth climbs inexorably upwards, trailing the column of his neck to the edge of his jaw, and Newt tilts his head back and tries not to think about how incredible symbolic it is for him to expose his vulnerable throat to her teeth.
She works her way to his lips and reclaims them. Newt leans into it, welcoming her advance by slanting their mouths more firmly together and seeking entrance. She sighs blissfully, opening for him, and he tentatively tastes her teeth and tongue before drawing back to make eye contact. "Are you sure?" He breathes. Tina looks away for a moment before seeming to gather herself.
"I...yes," she says simply, and Newt's arms finally, finally go around her waist. The swell of Tina's breasts presses into his chest when he pulls her close, causing his heart to pound and his throat to tighten. He tilts his head to drink in her face, all swollen lips and imploring eyes, and he could no more stop their next kiss than he could stop loving her.
Tina's hand comes up to cup the nape of his neck, her touch as fine as silk. Her fingers card through his hair when he makes a low sound and angles his head to deepen their kiss. Newt's hands trail over her arms and shoulders to circle her throat, feeling the throb of her pulse and the way her chest works as he steals the breath from her body. His fingers tighten slightly, just enough to feel the rope of her tendon, and Tina produces a tiny moan at the gesture.
Newt breaks away with a gasp to drag his lips over her face, suddenly and irrevocably desperate for her to recreate that sound. He kisses the length of her chin to the hinge of her jaw, which he wraps his lips around and suckles. Another gentle exhale, and it's on to her ear to nibble and tease the lobe before kissing the soft skin tucked beneath it. Tina jerks with a stuttering breath and—there! The same sound, slightly longer and stronger than before.
Newt presses his face into her shoulder and breathes in long, slow pulls until he feels in control again.
His reclaimed mastery allows him to reverse course, to taste the soft skin of her ear and nibble gently on the lobe, before laying a trail of kisses replete with stubble to her mouth. Newt kisses her, drawn out and open while their tongues brush together and her fingers twist into the fabric of his waistcoat. He eventually pulls back to breathe, his face against her chest as his wide eyes note the details of her satin blouse.
"Newt," she husks, and then a little stronger when she catches her breath. "Newt. How far are we taking this?"
She swallows while he watches her jaw clench and relax, pushing aside animal longing and his own crushing loneliness to give the matter serious consideration. "As far as you want," he finally decides, incapable of anything except complete honesty in the face of her obvious longing, and is rewarded with a smile that stops his heart.
Tina leans forward to trace a delicate hand over his jaw before kissing him hard enough bruise. Newt's hands curl into fists until she reaches behind her to straighten his fingers and guide them to her hips. She sighs brokenly when they land and breaks contact to tongue at his throat and ear before intentionally pressing her breasts into him. It's his turn to sigh, low and ragged, and she swoops in to swallow the sound.
Tina's fingers trace his collar to pluck at his bow tie. He hums when she frees the buttons at his throat and lifts his chin to allow her complete access, mouth never leaving hers. Her delicate hands press gently as she works the closure of his waistcoat, the ring on her third finger gleaming mellowly in the low light. Slender digits slide up his chest to loosen his shirt buttons and Newt drags his mouth away from hers to pant into her shoulder. Tina makes a soothing sound as she finds his hair to tip his head back. She kisses his jaw and cheek before pressing their foreheads together.
"You're so tense," she whispers sweetly. Newt chuckles into her skin and touches her lips.
"It's just...you, Tina," he reassures, and her Mona Lisa smiles shows itself.
She's wearing the long black skirt he'd been secretly admiring all day and a simple white blouse. His curious fingers trace the neck and collar of her top while he controls his breathing, and she stops kneading his scalp to catch his gaze. "Whatever you want," she promises, and he squeezes his eyes shut while kissing her gently.
"And if I want...you? All of you?" He asks, a question intended to be rhetorical but somehow isn't, and he can't help himself: he braces for rejection until her eyes crinkle into a smile, and he gapes.
"Then you can have all of me," she declares, and gasps when he shudders deeply.
Newt springs and kisses her without warning. He swallows the gentle moan she produces when his hand slips under her blouse to finger her girdle, and she matches his intensity by arching into his touch. His shirt falls open for Tina to rake her short nails over his chest to his neck, where she lays a gently possessive hand against his throat.
"Don't you dare stop," she whispers around his tongue, and he stifles a groan with effort. Instead of stopping, he trails a hand over the boning of her girdle and the sheer fabric covering her breast, boldly cupping the slight weight while molding his fingers to its curve. Tina's nipple goes hard against his palm as they moan together. He pinches the stiff peak between his second and third finger in disbelief while breaking off their kiss to voice a ragged gasp.
"You want me," he marvels, and she smiles. Tina reaches down to pull off her blouse in one smooth motion, laying it aside to reveal herself to him: the simple lace of her one-piece step-in undergarment, the sturdy construction of her girdle, and the wide waistband at her skirt. Her breasts, he's pleased to discover, are small but perfect, her nipples a rosy tease beneath sheer fabric. Newt groans his delight while palming her through the thin material.
Tina arches into the contact without inhibition, making small sounds of encouragement when delicate fingers go to the thin strip of fabric holding her foundation garment on. With a saucy twinkle in her eye, she lowers one strap and then the other before allowing the bodice to fall away, her lovely breasts springing free for his adoring gaze.
Newt swallows, his eyes stinging with reaction as calloused but tender hands cup her worshipfully. He sighs shakily when Tina arches into him with a soft sigh, seeking unimpeded contact. Intent on pleasing her, Newt leans close and moistens his lips before meeting her eyes and deliberately wrapping his lips around one perfect rosebud nipple.
Tina keens, head falling back as she shudders. He tugs gently to lave her peak with his tongue, and she groans and arches beneath him while panting into the air. Newt hums and switches to the other side, giving it the same attention before leaning back and fingering the clasp of her girdle, then trailing his hand lower.
"Please let me take your skirt off," he breathes into her skin. Tina moans and curls her blunt nails into his forearms. He takes that as permission, and shaky but capable hands pluck at the row of buttons holding the garment in place. She trembles, body twisting as she whines and presses against him until all the buttons are free of their eye. His hand slips inside to reflectively trace the swell of her hip while he kisses her, all hungry tongue, and teeth. He nips her bottom lip when he pulls away to gaze adoringly at sultry eyes and flushed cheeks.
Tina stands without warning, allowing her skirts to fall. The black line of her garters trails against her creamy thighs and Newt leans forward to touch her there, his thumb edging beneath lace to rub shaky crescents into her skin. Tina's head falls back as she digs her fingers into his hair, massaging his scalp when he presses his face into her stomach.
Newt moves his mouth lower, and a deep tremor starts in Tina's legs when he traces his teeth over the silk top of her stockings. He nips her inner thigh gently before returning to her hip, where he trails damp kisses as his fingers cup and knead her rear. Tina anchors herself to his shoulders, only to remember that he's still mostly dressed.
"Your shirt—off..." she manages, and he chuckles darkly. He drops his hands when Tina fumblingly pushes his waistcoat off. Newt lowers his braces to hang around his waist, his shirt following quickly, and Tina crows softly at the first brush of her hand over his bare skin: mottled, textured, incredibly warm and indefinably masculine. He leans into the contact as goosebumps take him, sweeping over his shoulders and neck until his teeth find the edge of her girdle and nip, hard.
Newt fumbles at his shirt cuffs before freeing himself. His hands quickly return to her, tracing her hip, her rear, up her back before pulling her down and onto him. He hauls her into his lap to press their centers together and Tina bears down, relishing the friction of his wool trousers against her prickling skin. Newt inhales sharply when her motion causes her core to grind against his arousal and her stiff nipples to brush the bare skin of his chest.
Newt watches her through wide eyes as she rolls her hips. Tina smiles and frames his face with her hands while kissing him softly, sweetly, before brushing her lips over his cheek to press her hot mouth to his ear. "We aren't stopping now," she reassures him in a whisper and hums when he shudders at the words. She leans back to stare at him invitingly until Newt has to sample her again so he does, leaning forward to kiss her until all other thoughts and reservations are driven from his mind.
Tina rocks against him heatedly until Newt breaks away with a moan, restless hands squeezing her hips, roving lips tasting her neck and throat before moving lower. "You've done this before?" he asks her sternum, and Tina arches to guide his mouth to her aching nipple. He obliges with a pleased groan, pinching it between his teeth before tugging gently to lave it with the flat of his tongue.
"Yes..." she finally hisses, after he's released her and allowed her overstimulated peak to cool. "Once, but that was a long time ago. I'm out of practice."
"Only once?" he questions, sounding aghast, and Newt rocks his head back to look at her. Her eyes, he notes, are presumably as dark as his own, her cheeks flushed with arousal. "It is a travesty," he finally breathes into her suprasternal notch, "for such a passionate woman to go so long without experiencing passion."
Tina moans when he dips his tongue into the hollow of her throat before dragging moist velvet over her skin. "Maybe—" she gasps as she bears down on the hard line of heat pulsing against her center, "maybe I was waiting for you to come along." He groans loud enough for Tina to feel it against her skin, and closes her eyes as his fingers trace up her inner thigh and slip beneath the edge of her step-in undergarments.
"Mmm. Then I consider myself blessed and honored, Tina," he husks, and the quarter-octave dip in his voice makes her toes curl. He kisses her throat as calloused fingertips brush the crease of her thigh to move toward the curls hidden beneath white cotton. The fabric is damp with her arousal and he makes a heady sound while drifting lower, two fingers tracing the outer lips of her quim before cupping her possessively.
Tina's head falls back, thrusting her breasts into his face, and Newt drops tiny kisses over and beneath their curve as he gently explores the crease of her sex. She moans when his fingers part her to probe the slick secrets within and keens as his roving thumb brushes over the bundle of nerves nestled within her folds. He hums happily when her hips jerk before settling into a short rhythm intended to increase the friction against her center.
"You do want me," he marvels into her ear, sounding pleased and just the tiniest bit smug. Clever teeth latch onto her earlobe as a slim finger works into her without fanfare, and Tina allows him his complacency. She moans long and low as his mouth curls into a smile. He swirls his thumb around her sensitive bud and Tina digs her fingernails into his shoulders.
"Tina—are you in the habit of pleasuring yourself?"
The question is unexpected and spoken very low, and Tina wrenches her mind off of how incredibly good he's making her feel in favor of watching his face. His finger slows when she stops her rocking to meet his eyes unflinchingly. Tina's face is painted in lines and angles by the light of the fire, and he kisses her mouth sweetly to allow her time to formulate an answer before withdrawing his hand entirely.
"I'm sorry if the question is too forward." He kisses her jaw fleetingly. "I only ask because I would very much like to do more than touch you, Tina, but I need to know how comfortable you may be with certain things." He flushes but doesn't drop his gaze and Tina, intrigued, works her hand between them to squeeze the pulsating line wedged against her. Newt's eyelids flutter at the contact and he groans softly before catching her wrist.
"What do you want to do?" She asks, neatly sidestepping his question with one of her own, and he blinks before deliberately bringing his hand to his mouth. He suckles the pad of his thumb, eyes firmly on hers, before pushing his middle finger past his lips and making a show of cleaning it. Newt then leans forward to brush their lips together, and she detects a faint mustiness that she realizes with a jolt must be from her. Tina's breath catches in her throat while her heart begins to slam against her ribs.
"I want to please you," he whispers and flicks the tip of his tongue over her upper lip in an incredibly suggestive manner. "But only if you are comfortable with it, love. Only if you want it entirely." Her eyes darken as he speaks, and he can see the fire reflected back at him from her gaze. The tremble in her thighs intensifies, spreads to her abdomen and quivers through her chest.
Newt cups her face. "You must breathe," he reminds her sweetly. Tina snatches a few deep breaths from the air until the shaking relents and she seems less off-balance, more in control, before languidly running her tongue across his lips.
"Will it feel good?" she asks, instead of yes Newt—whatever you want. He nods immediately, eyes gleaming, before wrapping his arm around her waist. She feels and sees the flex of his muscles when he hefts her slight weight and deposits her beside him before slithering off the couch to pool penitently at her feet. Reverent hands push her thighs apart, and Newt trails his gaze from her face to the buttons of her step-ins to stare lovingly before moving back to her face, his eyes smoldering up at her.
Newt leans forward to lick a strip from her collarbone to the edge of her girdle. "It should feel very good, Tina, presuming I do the job properly." He nips the boning at her waist before kissing a line down her front. "I think we'll keep this on," he says musingly and lifts a hand to nonchalantly work the buttons covering her mound. He parts the fine cotton without ceremony, and she holds her breath when he exhales shakily across her overheated skin. "Oh, lovely indeed," he declares in a heated whisper, and they both know he isn't talking about her underclothes.
Tina swallows thickly and closes her eyes when his hands brush her once more. She inhales sharply as a confident finger works inside, and risks looking at him to be greeted by his enraptured expression, attention fixed wholly on where she's exposed to him. His eyes flicker to hers as he touches her, making heady contact before he leans forward deliberately. His other hand, she notes distantly, gently spreads her as his lips part—
—and warm, wet velvet glides over the bundle of nerves at the core of her being, causing her thighs to twitch as sheer sensation galvanizes her. Tina's head snaps back, eyes wide with shock before she inhales sharply and rocks her hips against his mouth. She feels the faint curl of his lips as he smiles, before he closes his eyes and dedicates himself to the task entirely. His wicked tongue spurs electricity through her and Tina's head drops to the side with a thump. Newt hums his approval and seals his lips against her when he redoubles his efforts.
Tina is distantly aware of carnal sounds filling the room, but isn't sure which of them produce the noises, and cannot find the capacity to care. His happy groans vibrate against her, and she moans delightedly when he slips another finger inside her to press in counterpoint to his mouth, deep and slow. Her entire reality narrows to where his tongue flicks: the humidity of his mouth, the shock of pleasure against raw nerves, and the molten heat that spreads throughout her core. He eventually guides her straining thighs to drape over his shoulders as she tugs her fingers ruthlessly through his hair, but that all dims in comparison to the raw, animal gratification he inspires.
Tina rocks her head desperately when the first potent outrider of orgasm sweeps her, and he flicks his eyes up to stare into hers. She maintains intense eye contact through the first tentative pre-orgasmic sweep, and the second until his arms capture her hips to contain their primal rhythm. The molten wellspring at her center flashes out and spills over into the most intense climax she's ever known, and Tina digs her fingernails into the nape of his neck as she scales the peak, crying out his name while clenching and spasming around him.
Then it's over, and the scaffolding holding her up seems to weaken at all once. She collapses onto the couch, chest heaving and body twitching with aftershocks. Newt indulges in one last, long pull at her before withdrawing his mouth and fingers. She hears him sucking them clean before he climbs onto the couch to kneel between her legs. Gentle hands brush her thighs and knees as she catches her breath. Her trembling has ceased by the time he drops a kiss on her shoulder before leaning over her, his weight resting on his forearms as he peppers her upturned face with kisses.
Newt, ever the gentleman, waits for her to dictate their next move, kissing her and murmuring adoringly in her ear while her breath and mental capacity return. Tina comes back to herself with the scrape of his trousers against her sensitive inner thigh, the hint of his body weight pressed into her breasts. He ceases his low dialogue to kiss her mouth sweetly before leaning to take in her face.
"Welcome back," he whispers lovingly, and his hand pushes her wild hair off her brow. Tina smiles into his eyes and kisses the shelf of his jaw before twining her arms around his shoulders.
"I saw stars," she breathes, and Newt blushes and ducks his head bashfully. Tina tsks until he raises his eyes with a sheepish smile. Feeling suddenly shy but determined, she touches his mouth. "Don't hide from me, Newt. Please. Not after what we just did." A pause. "What I think we'll do next."
He kisses the tips of her fingers. "We could stop if you want," he whispers, and Tina blinks. "I've no wish to push you. Seeing you like that—well." His calloused hand drapes over her heart and Tina's eyes blur with tears. She clears her throat and blinks the moisture away, lest he misinterprets their reason. "I'm honored to have shared it with you."
Tina takes a fortifying breath, kissing him reverently as she slides her hand between their bodies to squeeze the hard line in his trousers. Newt inhales sharply and drops his head to watch her palm him before lifting his chin to claim her in a blistering kiss. Tina gives herself over to it while plucking at the buttons of his fly, opening it enough to allow her hand to ease inside. She deftly parts the linen of his underwear to wrap eager fingers around him, claiming rigid, velvety heat for her own.
Newt drags his mouth to suckle her neck as she strokes him, leaving a lavish red bruise. He soothes it with his tongue before repeating the gesture in a new spot, until Tina arches and moans softly. He dips his head to run his tongue over her breasts, from one nipple to the other and back up her throat to her mouth. They kiss until he breaks away with a gulp when she urges his trousers and underwear past his hips, freeing him from the confines of clothing.
Newt's hands abandon her skin temporarily in favor of tugging off his garments and tossing them to the floor. He leans close to kiss and tease, and she squeezes him with her legs three times before he catches on. Trembling now, he repositions her to span the length of the settee while settling between her thighs. With a soft sigh and a heated kiss, he urges one of her legs to wrap loosely around his waist. The other, he hooks beneath his elbow to wedge between his body and the back of the couch. His hand lands beside her head to support his weight while the other drifts down to where she is still wet and tender and aching, to tease her with calculated brushes.
Newt waits until she's gasping and pushing against him before taking himself in hand. "Are you sure?" he asks one last time, ensuring her full consent, and she nods frantically while stuttering out a yes. Tina lifts her head to watch as he lines them up, her lip caught firmly between her teeth as he probes around before finding her willing entrance. His eyes catch hers and he exhales shakily as he presses forward, dipping in and dragging out the feeling of each delicious inch until they are slotted together and he is entirely enveloped by her slick heat.
Newt sighs very shakily as he settles lower over her, his free hand cupping her breast while the other curls into the couch cushion. His mouth drags over her cheek and jaw before finding her lips, kissing her with eyes closed as he inhales and nibbles her lip. Tina's hands find a home—one on his shoulder, the other at the small of his back, and her fingernails dig in when his body coils against hers and he moves, withdrawing slightly to push back in with a low sound.
They fall into an easy rhythm, the couch creaking around them as the metronome of his hips measures the beats. His hand leaves her breast to squeeze her hip before draping across the fabric-covered expanse of her stomach to tease where he sinks into her. Tina rocks her head back with a low moan, exposing the clean line of her throat, and Newt maps it with his teeth as his tongue flicks against her skin. He groans and presses his cheek to hers, voice low and breathless in her ear.
"Tina," he husks, and she shivers when his breath ghosts over her skin. "Tina, love, you are—" a particularly hard thrust, his girth impacting a keenly sensitive spot deep within, and Tina hisses and cries out his name while Newt growls deep in his chest "—exquisite," he finishes raggedly, and his mouth resumes exploring her as he ratchets up their pace.
A heated fissure opens where he sinks into her. Tina moans and arches in welcome, bringing her nipples close to his mouth. He curves his back to suckle one before releasing her and groaning loudly, calloused fingers brushing her clit to urge her toward completion. Tina chants his name as his fingers press harder, working faster while sweat slicks his skin and her fingernails dig in for traction.
He hisses encouragement and drops his head to watch himself fill her. Tina uses his hair to tug his head back and latches onto his throat unrepentantly before breaking away to moan musically. Newt watches, enraptured by her wanton bliss before Tina's eyes claim his gaze.
Despite their frank carnality and the sounds filling the air, Newt manages to grace her with a heart-stopping smile. He ducks his head to kiss her sweetly and that's the final push she needs—she crests around him with an exultant cry, body drawing tight as she clutches him and whines in the back of her throat. His eyelids flutter when she milks his length until his control falters and he snaps his hips against her, hard enough to leave bruises behind.
She cries out when her orgasm intensifies, spurred on by his hard thrusts, before fading away. Newt looks wild and almost ethereal above her when he smiles again, before seizing the leg around his waist and bringing it forward to hook into the bend of his elbow, dropping his weight onto his palms. The new angle takes him incredibly deep and allows her to feel the full slide of his length inside her, and she purrs her approval when Newt changes pace without warning, shifting from quick, sharp thrusts to a deep, hard roll.
Tina mewls in disbelief when the altered tempo teases another, less intense, almost begrudging orgasm out of her. She gives herself over to it with a gasp, and Newt groans when she tightens around him. Then his eyes open wide and Tina touches his neck, his hair, his shoulders when he growls deep in his throat.
"I'm almost there," he gasps urgently, and Tina rocks her hips to take him even deeper. He squeezes his eyes shut as he groans, snapping his hips times time in quick succession before pulling himself free of her—but only just. She murmurs encouragingly when he thrusts into his own fist and growls her name, shuddering deeply with a rough purring sound as milky fluid streaks across the fabric covering her stomach and hip.
Newt trembles violently where he's slumped against her, head hanging while his chest works. He dryly kisses her collarbone as he recovers, until his breathing is normal and he can smile at her. Tina grins back and trails gentle fingers over his chest. He captures her hand to kiss each finger in turn, before leaning to the side and retrieving his wand from his trousers. A flick and murmured spell clean up the rapidly cooling mess, before his wand gets clamped firmly between his teeth as he rocks onto his haunches to help her sit up.
Tina stares at his face for a moment before wrapping him in a shaky embrace, her cheek pressed against his while they breathe together. Newt closes his eyes to inhale the scent of her skin, embracing this perfect moment of peace until a log crackles in the fire, sending sparks whirling up the floo in a series of loud pops, and the spell is broken.
Newt helps her dress, mostly keeping his hands to himself as she refastens her step-ins, tugs on her blouse and drapes her skirt around her waist. There's one poignant moment when he cups her breast through her underclothes and kisses her gently, before stepping back and allowing her garments to come between them. Tina nervously bites her lip when he sighs and kisses her knuckles before releasing her hand.
He dresses almost diffidently, leaving his braces to hang around his waist and not bothering to button his shirt. Tina watches him through wide eyes until he's finished, and then there's nothing more to do except to wait for one or the other to orchestrate the next step, neither willing to abandon this perfect moment of peace.
Newt drops his gaze and shifts, restless fingers curling to pick his cuticles before he snatches a quick breath out of the air. Tina fidgets with her locket and watches his face until he can return his gaze to her. "Come on, Tina," he says in a near-whisper. He steps close and brushes his knuckles against her cheek—a fleeting touch, gone too soon. "We have got the rest of the evening together. I don't wish to spend it sadly. Do you?"
Tina shakes her head emphatically, but can't seem to prevent the droop of her shoulders. "I don't," she responds, and rallies as best she can. He stares into her eyes as his hand comes up of its own volition to push a strand of her mussed hair back. She holds her breath until his hand falls away and he retreats, putting an ocean of longing between them.
"Are you hungry?" He asks eventually. It's the only safe topic he can think of at the moment.
Tina smiles bravely. "I am, actually."
Newt briefly returns the gesture before firming his lips. "Come on, then," he says in a hoarse voice, and resolutely leads her toward the stove. "I'll cook for you, if I may."
"I'd like that," Tina whispers and allows him to pull out a chair at the table.
He drops a kiss on her hair after she's seated, his hand warm where he squeezes her shoulder. He turns his back to prepare food, and Tina twirls her ring about her finger and watches him cook while very determinedly not mentioning tomorrow or the ship that's scheduled to take him away from her once more.