Warning: smut! This was originally posted on Ao3 on February 14th, 2017 and is being posted here for the sake of my own ego. Also, there are some period-accurate mentions of birth control and baby-making talk so if that bothers you, turn away now.
You may want to read my story "Rules of Engagement" before diving into this, though it's not required.
October, 1930
Newt wears blue, and the color brings out the gold in his eyes. Tina stares unashamedly as they ride the lift. They reach their suite and he smiles while fumbling the key from his pocket. He leans forward to kiss her as he unlocks the door, then allows her to precede him into the room.
The suite's larger than she anticipated, featuring a sitting room and massive bed. There's a couch and a small mini-bar, presumably stocked. Atop that is a large bucket containing ice and a bottle of champagne. Two flutes stand at the ready, alongside a platter of assorted fruits and cheese. Late October sun streams through the large windows. It's an altogether charming way to cap off their wedding, and Tina stares happily.
Newt touches her shoulder and she turns to press her mouth against his. He makes a surprised sound before winding his arms around her, pulling her close and working her lips with enthusiasm. They pant together when they separate, and the gold in his eyes has been crowded out in favor of deep green.
"This is a nice place," Tina blurts, suddenly unbearably nervous under his gaze, and Newt blinks distractedly. He steps back and raises a hand to his neck, loosening his bow-tie.
"It's lovely," he agrees, popping the top two buttons of his shirt. "But I find that I can't focus on the room. Not with you in it. You are an extraordinarily beautiful bride, Tina." Tina blushes as he sheds his suit jacket and waistcoat, placing them carefully over the back of the couch, before reaching up to loosen the fastening of her veil. She sighs in relief when the weight is removed from her head, and he smiles while kissing her crown.
Tina looks around, takes in his state of dress and the position of the sun, and voices the question that's been on her mind all day. "Are we going to do this...now?" Her voice comes out squeakier than she intends. Newt's face softens as he takes her measure, hands reaching out to touch her shoulders.
"Only if you're ready," he reassures. Tina nods and hesitates only another moment before extending trembling hands. She feels Newt hold his breath while she finds and releases the remaining buttons on his shirt, the press and pull of her fingers causing his eyes to drift close. They share a shaky sigh when his shirt falls open and she gets her first real sight of his chest: compact and well-defined, an unmapped topography of scars and freckles, all dusted with the finest layer of coppery hairs. She drops her eyes to his toned stomach, where a thicker line of hair begins at his navel and trails into his trouser. She swallows thickly.
Tina starts violently when strong hands cover her own, and she jerks her head up a little wildly. "We don't need to do this now," he murmurs in an attempt to calm, and Tina negates him with a brisk shake of her head. Newt watches carefully as her fumbling fingers find his fine shell cuff-links and loosens them, before rising to his shoulders and pushing his shirt off. It flutters to the floor and pools around their feet, temporarily forgotten. Tina presses her palms to his skin, intrigued by the warmth and texture of him, and he catches her mouth in a blistering kiss.
Tina runs her hands over his chest and arms before experimentally scraping her nails over his back. Newt closes his eyes and breathes as she explores him until delicate lips press into the place where his neck and shoulders meet. Then he rumbles, deep in his chest, and she smothers a surprised gasp. Tina presses firmly enough for him to feel the brocade and beads sewn into her gown, and Newt raises his hands to cage her arms.
He is gentle as he turns her, conscious of the way her body thrums with nerves until her back leans into his chest. His hands find the small row of pearl buttons at her side, and Tina leans back to wrap her arms around his neck and shoulders while he fingers her dress. He creates an opening and a calloused hand presses the advantage, sweeping over the fabric of her corset while he kisses her neck, her shoulders and the curve of her arm. "Is this too fast?" he asks, and Tina inhales sharply when his teeth graze her skin.
"...Yes. No. I don't know," Tina manages, and Newt hums while turning her to face him. He kisses her reverently until she sighs and relaxes in his arms. She traces the line of his trousers, coarse against warm skin. She drags the tips of her fingers over him while Newt presses his mouth over her cheeks and jaw, placing tiny kisses on the sharp angles until he presses his face into her hair. She can feel him trembling when she embraces him, one hand polishing his back.
"We can go as fast or as slow as you need, love," he reassures, and Tina kisses the imperfections covering his sternum. He makes a heady sound and Tina raises her mouth to taste it, teeth skimming the bump of cartilage in his throat. He groans, slow and long, and Tina inhales his pleasure to allow it to infuse her being.
"Get this dress off of me," she orders, ignoring the tremble in her legs, and Newt's hands go to her shoulders. He rubs soothing circles into her flesh before easing her dress down her arms, lips and tongue laving newly-exposed skin. Tina's head falls back and her fingers find his hair, burying themselves in his wiry curls as she gives herself over to the sensation. Newt frees her hands before working the fabric past the swell of her breasts. He tongues the exposed band of jeweled skin above her corset, and Tina hisses and locks her knees.
"Tina," he breathes, the curve of his tongue causing her to shiver. "Tina, Tina, Tina." He flicks his eyes up to her for permission, mouth never leaving her skin, and she voices a liquid moan before she thinks to stifle it. She can feel his smile but his eyes are torrid when they catalog her responses. They seem to implore her to swallow her nervousness so she does, boldly allowing him to drag her dress past the flare of her hips until it joins his shirt on the floor.
Newt kneels before her, gimlet eyes raking the length of her figure. She wears an old-fashioned corset as her foundation garment, silk strings lashing her stomach and back. It covers most of her breasts but there's nothing obscuring her sex, and it's revealed to his wandering eyes. This is the barest she's even been around him, and the tremble in her thighs increases while he observes. His eyes fixate on her mound before diverting, and she sees a flush take his cheeks.
Newt unfolds himself and stands, eyes drinking in her face until he brushes their mouths together. He keeps his eyes open while they kiss, probing her reactions and gauging her response. "Will you allow me to loosen your corset?" he finally asks when Tina's been kissed into pliancy, and she sighs against him while nodding.
She forgets, sometimes, the dichotomy that exists at the core of her man. His hands are simultaneously strong and gentle as they relax her stays, allowing her to take a deeper breath and draining some of the tension from the room. She feels the first fissure of warmth work into her when slender fingers splay over her hips. He kisses her deeply, his tongue warm velvet against her own. He gulps into her mouth when she presses her breasts against his chest, and there's a responding twitch in his hips.
"Tease," he hisses, and Tina knows she should laugh but his hands have slipped over her back and lower still, cupping the swell of her behind and squeezing. Tension fills Tina, Billywigs buzzing and churning in her stomach as she goes stiff in his arms. Newt kisses her reassuringly.
"We don't have to do everything or anything," he promises. He redirects his hands to the relatively neutral territory of her lower back, and his voice is tender. "We can stop. I've waited years for you, Tina. I can wait a while longer."
Tina presses their cheeks together, air shaky in her lungs. "I don't want to stop, but can we maybe not go all the way tonight? Can we touch and...other things, without taking that last step?"
Newt considers this. "Will you let me pleasure you?" There's no hesitation in his voice, which is lower and somehow more profound than usual. His eyes, when they fix onto hers, are ardent. Tina gulps while the re-ignited humidity in her stomach pools and spreads. He kisses behind her ear and her breath catches as electricity tingles down her spine. "I want to show you," he whispers hoarsely, and Tina's gasp sounds throughout the room.
She manages a shaky nod until he kisses her, using the distraction of his mouth to ease her toward the bed. The back of her knees impact the mattress and he releases her to smile and push her hair away from her face. "On you hop," he says, his tenor curling around and warming her, and she scoots herself back until she's draped over the pillows. He stands and stares for a moment, jaw clenched and fingers twitching, before crawling into the bed and advancing on her.
Newt's hands go to her knees, calluses rough even through the silk of her stockings, and parts her legs gently. He walks on his knees until he's settled between them, bending to kiss her. "May I touch you?" He's pleading, mouth hot on her jaw and neck, and Tina has to close her eyes against the onslaught. She manages to gasp out an affirmative answer, and he breathes his thanks into her skin.
Newt drops his head to press open-mouthed kisses onto the slight swell of her breasts. Tina sighs and pets the nape of his neck, watching through glazed eyes as he works her skin. He runs his teeth over the lace of her corset and hisses before his eyes flicked to hers. "Can I take it off?" Tina tenses so he makes shushing sounds against the stiff boning on her abdomen. "It's fine, Tina. I rather like it on, honestly."
Deft hands span her waist and Newt hums, face pressed into the stack of her ribs. She can feel his labored breathing, and she has an idea of what this slow pace is costing him. Still, she can't find it within her to grant him permission for more, so she gives what she can and he takes it without complaint.
He moves up her body to nip her neck and collarbone. His tongue flicks over her jaw and ears, and she sighs in satisfaction, a new tremble starting in her abdomen. Down, and his teeth find her nipple and nip it through the stiff fabric of her corset, while Tina keens and digs her nails into his scalp. He laves her nipple with his tongue to soothe the ache and Tina chokes. Newt chuckles darkly.
He presses her deeper into the pillows before slithering down her body. Wet kisses trail over the swell of her hip as he hums against her skin, causing her to shiver. Tina feels tingling slickness at the juncture of her thighs and groans, the roiling heat in her stomach radiating outwards. Newt rolls his head when his mouth finds her inner thigh, tongue painting swirls into her skin. He watches the goosebumps roughen her skin before his fingers clasp her leg hard enough to bite into her flesh.
"You're exceptionally beautiful, Tina," he sighs, the heat of his breath making her shudder, and she feels his lips curl into a smile. "And lovely here, too." He drops an open mouth kiss perilously close to her secret core, the place she has barely touched herself, and she jerks. She can see his throat work when he swallows, and his voice is in its lowest register when he speaks next. "I'm going to touch you. Please tell me to stop if it is unpleasant."
Newt allows her a few moments to refuse. When she does nothing except pant and crook her fingers into his hair, he runs trembling fingers through the dark curls covering her mound. She feels his reverent exhale when he cups her, and then he shifts so his face is before her sex, eyes mapping the flowering complexities of her labia. Tina swallows down her nerves. He leans forward to drop a kiss on her mound, lightening-quick, and a gasp is torn from her throat—as much from the shock of the action as from the molten heat it inspires.
He murmurs happily when her fingers pull at his hair. He nips her thigh, eyes gleaming. "Feel free to tug," he purrs into her skin, and Tina gapes. Newt chuckles darkly at her wide-eyed stare before returning his attention to her sex. Two fingers frame her from above to spread her swollen outer lips, and Tina closes her eyes when he inhales sharply.
"My lovely, pale Porpentina is pink here," he whispers shakily, and another pulse works through her, making her tingle from her scalp to her toes. "Pink and wet."
Tina fists the sheets, nipples tingling to a point as her breath sticks in her throat. Newt places a tentative finger against her and she swallows thickly. He finds the moisture seeping from within and swirls it around experimentally. He touches her delicately, almost reverently, mindful of his roughened fingertips, all the while awakening sensation until her jaw is clenched and she breathes in short bursts. Then he flicks his finger upwards and she jolts against the mattress, a sultry tremor crashing through her.
"There it is," he breathes, and he sounds absurdly pleased with himself. Tina lifts her shocked head and meets his regard from over her mound. He looks smug and inexplicably feline sprawled between her thighs, green eyes gleaming in the low light, and the wanton sight causes her tongue to stick to the roof of her mouth. He keeps his eyes fixed on her as he speaks, voice adopting the lecturing tones he uses when talking about his creatures.
"Did you know that the clitoris serves no reproductive purpose? It's true; its sole reason for existing, its single biological function, is to bring pleasure to the woman who possesses it." He brushes his finger over that rawly-sensitive place again, causing her to keen, and his eyes grow heavy-lidded when her hips rock against him. He dips his head, breaking their intense eye contact, and his breath washes over her.
Something warm and velvet-rough touches her experimentally, and Tina's mouth falls open with profound shock, a soft cry spilling out. Newt hums encouragingly and increases the breadth of his strokes, rolling and flicking his tongue until she's tugging his hair ruthlessly, hips listing autonomously. Tina's world condenses down to where he touches her: the puff of his breath on overheated skin, the flit of his tongue against the nerve that seems to feed directly into her heart, and the building heat he pushes into her.
She's peripherally aware of an achy hollowness until a finger finds where she is slick and empty and breaches her, pushing in with little impediment and less pain. The thrust of his hand is a direct counterpoint to the swirl of his tongue and Tina feels small quakes start in her thighs, spreading to quiver across the muscles of her belly. Newt adds a second finger and they groan together when she contracts around it, desperate to increase the pressure his strokes induce. He slants his mouth more firmly against her, lips adding a bit of suction, and Tina cries out.
A molten fissure opens where his tongue curls against her, spreads to where his fingers sink into her before flowing outward. Tina experiences a bright, full-body treble; then something snaps deep within her core and gratification floods her, causing her back to arch and her hips to roll against him deliriously, keening to announce her release. Newt grunts when she pulls his hair but otherwise holds firm against the onslaught, mouth, and fingers working her until she collapses onto the bed, jelly-limbed and blowing shocked air through a disbelieving smile.
Tina comes back to herself in stages, reality intruding until she's relaxed and sprawled lazily across the mattress. She pets Newt's head as he withdraws his fingers from her and slowly licks them clean, tongue chasing every last bit of her taste. She watches him through heavy eyes, intrigued but not particularly inspired by the display; she is deeply sated in a way that is both unfamiliar and languid, and he senses this. He straightens her legs before curling next to her, the only indication of his aroused state evidenced by his tented trousers.
It takes Tina a few moments but eventually, she musters the energy to sit up and steal a kiss. He leans into it eagerly, and she realizes that the musky flavor on his lips and tongue is her. She samples it curiously and he exhales, one hand coming up to cup her breast through the fabric of her corset. "Take it off," she murmurs, unaware she meant to say it but comfortable enough to allow him to loosen her strings and peel the restrictive garment off of her. His gaze is worshipful as he removes her stockings and she is, at last, naked and without shame before him.
Newt presses her into the mattress by trailing kisses over the skin of her chest, her stomach, her thighs. There's heat in these gestures but Tina is too wrung-out to respond with passion. Instead, she makes softly encouraging noises until he comes up for air, pupils blown wide with need, and she pats the space beside her. "Lie down," she says gently, "And we'll take care of you. Just show me what to do."
He scrambles to get supine but his fingers cage her hand when she reaches for the placket of his trousers. "You don't have to," he manages, chest heaving, and Tina shushes him. Her hands tremble only slightly when she opens his fly, and Newt lifts his hips to allow her to work his trousers and underwear off. She keeps her eyes diverted until all his garments are piled at the side of the bed, then she takes a deep breath and turns to take in the sight of him.
His lower half is just as well-formed as the upper, flat stomach sloping into well-toned hips and thighs. There are scars here too, she notes absently, and a smattering of freckles. His curled fists rest on his legs, and he watches her carefully when she finally, finally allows herself to see the secret part of him, taut against his stomach and standing from a nest of red hair.
The first thing she notices is the freckles, of course, and he rolls his eyes when she firms her lips against an inappropriate smile. The tension doesn't leave him as Tina grows serious in her inspection. She leans forward, taking in the size of him, and she feels herself quail slightly. There's more of it than she thought there would be, and she mentally contrasts it with the fingers he'd used on her earlier and feels a fissure of doubt.
Newt must read the thoughts on her face, for he takes her hand and tilts his head toward her. "Don't worry about that right now," he says gently, and his hand goes to her cheek. "I promise that I...well, I promise that I will do my best not to hurt you when the time comes. It will, um. Fit." His cheeks infuse with color with the last word, and Tina grins.
She inches closer and Newt sucks in a quick breath, eyes going wide. She coils next to him and keeps her eyes steady while her hands reach out. He touches her wrist and searches her face before gradually relaxing. He breathes, deep and even and slow, when her fingers wrap around him. His eyes drift closed when she squeezes, bottom lip caught firmly in his teeth, and Tina has the urge to soothe the bite herself so she does, leaning forward to kiss and nibble his lip until his breathing churns.
Tina tightens her grip experimentally until he hisses and covers her hands. "Gentle," he gasps, a ghost of laughter haunting his words. "It's quite sensitive." He manages a crooked smile as he repositions her, showing her where to grip firmly and where to employ a softer touch. He instructs her in how to stroke him, long pulls that start at the base and glide over the tip, flicking his foreskin before sinking back down, and Newt reclines and allows her to have her clumsy but eager way with him.
Tina watches him, observing the new tension settling into his face as a flush spreads over his chest. He gleams with the lightest coating of sweat, chest working with his deep breathing, and she feels a thrill work through her when his lips part and he voices a small, masculine groan. His eyes open and Tina squirms at the heat in his gaze, locked onto her unflinchingly until her hand grows sore and she switches to the other one. He wraps his fingers around her own and gasps as a tremor works through him.
"Tina," he breathes on a shaky exhale, and then: "I'm close, I—"
"That's okay," she says, ramping up the speed of her strokes. "You made me feel good, I want to do the same for you."
He nods a little frantically, and Tina reaches up to brush away the hair that falls into his eyes. He turns his head, lightening-quick, and takes her wrist between his teeth. Newt growls as he bites down, just this side of too-painful, before releasing her and rocking his head back into the pillows. His face flushes, spreading down the column of his neck, and his hips twitch.
"Tina," he gasps. "Tina, Tina, Tina—aaah."
Tina watches intently as his face tightens and then relaxes, lips parting and head lolling back as he shudders apart in her hands. He fists the sheets hard enough for his knuckles to pop, and the elemental part of him she holds swells and twitches while pearly fluid spills over her fingers. He groans while she pumps him until a shaking hand lifts from the sheets and stops her.
"That's enough," he gasps, and he sounds like he's trying not to laugh. He smiles a little dopily and touches her hair and cheek with wonder as he calms, before sitting up and pulling her into a slow, lazy kiss. "My Tina," he breathes into her. "Tina, I love you."
She hides her smile, as she always does, and he lifts her chin, as he always does, and they share a long, lingering look. "I do love you," he repeats, a bit stronger. "And not because of what we just did, or because you're my wife. I've loved you for a very long time, and I haven't always been forthcoming about it. I'll try harder to say it more." He kisses her again before turning his attention to the mess in his lap, snorting a laugh.
"Must clean this up," he declares while looking around for his wand, and Tina allows her curiosity to get the better of her. She dabs at the rapidly-cooling white fluid and rubs it between her fingers. Newt shrugs and attempts to clean the mess wandlessly while Tina looks at him curiously.
"Hey, Newt? What, um..." He glances at her hand before giving it up for a lost cause and bending to retrieves his sock, cleaning himself diffidently. He tosses it aside before answering.
"That, my love, is how children are made." He kisses her before unfurling himself from the bed and striding across the room. Tina appreciatively notes the smooth slide of his muscles under his skin, the fact that his duck-footed gait isn't so pronounced without his boots calling attention to it. Newt stoops to fetch his wand from his abandoned trousers and Tina stifles a blissful sigh. He hears it anyway, throwing a teasing grin over his shoulder.
Newt cleanses them both with a flick before sitting beside her. Her fingers are still tacky with his effluence so he wipes it away before kissing her palm. "I like that you watch me with such admiration," he murmurs warmly. "I know I'm not much to look at, but they say love makes one blind." He artfully dodges the pillow she tosses at him before threading their fingers together. He kisses her and she melts into it, leaning against him comfortably while he cards his fingers through her hair.
"It's funny that the mention of children should come up," he says eventually, when the sun is low behind the buildings and the shadows lengthen. Tina settles closer to him and leans her head on his shoulder. Newt pulls the blanket around them, apparently entirely comfortable with their nudity, and presses their foreheads together.
"We intend to travel a fair bit before starting a family, don't we?" He asks, and Tina nods.
"Yes. I want to enjoy being with you and seeing the world before we have to settle and raise a kid. I want a baby someday, just not right now."
"I'll be very happy to plant a baby in you when the time comes," he growls, and Tina shivers at his tone. "In the meantime, we must be careful about, ah, when the seed is allowed to...gain the soil, shall we say?"
Tina looks at him blankly, and Newt feels his cheeks heat up. "Tina. You read those books I gave you, didn't you?" She nods, and he raises his eyebrows. "Then surely you understand what I'm talking about." It takes Tina a moment but then realization dawns, and it's her turn to blush deeply.
"Oh. Oh! Yes, I know what you're talking about. Um, do you want me to just...tell you? Every time? Or can I give you a general time frame to work in?"
"A general time-frame should do," he says crisply. "No reason to embarrass the both of us, really."
She gives him a date, and he does the math in his head. His eyes are soft when he turns to her, and his hand cups her breast gently before he claims her mouth. "Tomorrow night, provided we consummate our marriage properly, does this mean that I—that I won't have to—"
"Yes," she says against his lips.
"Oh. Good." He kisses her until they are breathless and tangled. Tina's stomach interrupts them, growling loudly in the heated silence, and Newt snorts laughter before untangling himself from her. "You need sustenance," he declares while gently bopping her nose, and floats the cheese and fruit platter over before pouring them both champagne.
They recline together in bed, and eat their fill and drink until their heads are fizzy and the electric torch lights wear fuzzy halos. They speak of small things and large things, aspirations and dreams for their life together—what names they'd prefer for future children and what cities they wish to visit, their dream home and where they wish to settle together in retirement.
Newt touches her, eventually—exploratory sweeps of his hands that aren't intended to ignite, but rather to sooth. Tina delights in it, feeling her comfort with him increase, feeling her love for him grow, until she can no longer contain it and tears fill her eyes. He wipes them away tenderly, tasting them on his thumb while declaring his love for her, over and over until his own eyes fill.
Then they close the curtains and douse the lights, pressing as close as they possibly can, and allow sleep to take them.