Warning: smut! Also some light BDSM and Dom/sub themes. This was originally published on February 24th, 2017 on Ao3 and is being included here for the sake of my ego.
Third in the "The Journey Itself Is Home" series, directly following "Rules of Engagement" and "Marital Bliss."
January, 1931
The Russian Magical Cabinet sits in a gilt, bulb-topped building of gold leaf and fine wainscoting. Tina wrinkles her nose in instinctive distaste upon arrival but quickly smooths her expression. Newt, caught in a fit of coughing triggered by the Floo powder, doesn't notice. Tina presses her sturdy cotton hanky into his hand with absent fondness, and he thanks her around a volley of sneezes.
Tina pulls herself from the fireplace and brushes the soot off her heavy winter coat. She adjusts the scarf covering her head while Newt recovers, and by the time he's able to turn to their greeting committee, they are both poised and presentable.
Newt approaches the barrel-chested gentleman who introduces himself as Andrev, clasping his wrist in the traditional manner and enduring a pat on the shoulder. They converse in halting Russian while Tina looks around, taking in her surrounding and tightening her grip on their bags. Newt eventually introduces her, and she greets the gentleman with meek reserve—she's familiar enough with their customs to know forward females are generally frowned upon. Andrev barely looks at her, and Tina doesn't know whether to be flattered or irritated, so she settles on awkward neutrality. She's beginning to appreciate why it's Newt's default position.
Eventually, they finish their introductions and Newt takes the bags from her, placing a warm and reassuring hand on her back before leading her into the swirling tempest outside.
They travel across a snowy wasteland by sled, pulled by massive, wolf-like creatures Newt and Andrev call lyka. They show their teeth at Tina but greet Newt like an old friend. Of course. By the time they reach their temporary lodging, Tina is shivering and ready to be done with the monotonous white landscape.
Her mood isn't improved by their temporary accommodations. She supposes it could be worse, but then again, it is a cave, an honest-to-goodness cave, and she can't suppress a fissure of frustration. She knows intellectually she can always sleep in the warmth of the case, but still—the presumed snub rankles.
Newt winces and drops his eyes before sliding past her to the entrance. "Tina!" he calls from within. "Tina, it isn't so bad. It's warm and dry, and it's got amenities. It's really quite charming."
Tina relaxes when she steps into the shelter and drops her bags, pleasantly surprised. The cave's roughly-circular interior is nice—dry and warm, with a rough kitchen tucked into one rounded corner and an open-air bathroom in the other, complete with full-size tub. A bedstead dominates the space to their left, an old-fashioned rope bed topped with a clean straw-tick mattress, covered with plush furs and sheepskins. A smoldering brazer completes the space, providing warmth and light. All in all, it isn't terrible, and Tina smiles gently at him to signal her acceptance.
Newt nods as she relaxes, and presumably informs Andrev that their lodgings are adequate. The Russian bellows and slaps Newt back hard enough to nearly knock him off his feet. Newt endures this with a pained smile and nervous side-step. He then follows their guide outside to learn how to bed down the lyka, their primary mode of transportation for the duration of their stay, while Tina unpacks their meager belongings and sets to cleaning and airing out their room.
Tina's cozily settled down with a book by the time Newt returns, vibrating with repressed energy as he updates his field notes and rambles happily about what is already known of the elusive Siberian Yeti. It's late when she's able to coax his boots off and haul him beneath the covers, and she falls asleep to the comforting sound of him prattling about diurnal activities and mating calls.
January in Siberia means near-constant darkness, and Tina finds the adjustment difficult to the extreme. Newt seems unaffected, but she's learned over the long months that he posses an almost unfathomable reserve of energy where it concerns his creatures. She wearily joins him on daily excursions through the snow to track and record their prey, and by the third day, they've found spore.
The fourth day brings their first sighting and ends with them hastily Disapparating away from a rampaging male they stumble upon in the midst of rut.
Newt laughs off the entire thing, but Tina finds that the constant and oppressive darkness plays havoc with her mood, and she can find nothing amusing in the situation. He calms and reassures her as best as he can, finally bringing her down into his case and allowing her to play with some of the gentler creatures. Only then, soaking in the artificial sunlight is she able to gain some levity. Then they laugh together, drunk on their love for each other, and Newt kisses her sweetly before tucking her into her furs that night.
Their last night is spent huddled in the cave while a great storm sweeps in from the west, making it too dangerous to trek outdoors. Newt is in surprisingly good spirits despite the unplanned day-off, coming down from his typical creature high enough to be able to make small-talk with her. He's filled a small journal with new and revolutionary details and findings, and so treats the storm as an unexpected break in their otherwise hectic schedules. Newt radiates a profound sense of accomplishment, something which fills Tina with warmth.
Newt helps her clean and pack their scattered items before settling down with his sketches. Tina weighs her options and decides to take a bath, unsure of when her next opportunity to cleanse with actual water may be. She doesn't bother with a privacy screen as she soaks in the herb-scented water, and isn't blind to the way Newt shyly glances over at her occasionally. She smiles to herself each time. After less than three months of marriage, and having gone to her wedding bed a virgin, the attention still feels new and exciting. She hopes it always will.
Tina dries and dresses in the long white nightgowns she's favored since her wedding. Her one-piece pajamas were comfortable and warm, but they proved a hindrance to certain nocturnal activities, and Newt seems absurdly fond of the white drapes she now favored. He watches her pull the snowy flannel over her head, and trades his small tome and quill for a larger sketchbook and pencil. Tina grins unabashedly and artfully arranges herself on the bed.
Newt watches her settle, then sets pencil to parchment and starts drawing in broad lines from the elbow. His touch is light as he handles the tools, his eyes flitting between her and the paper in a rapid shuffle. It doesn't take long for his movements to tighten and circle inward, for details to emerge. He finishes and turns the sketch around, so Tina can take in a very good likeness of herself. She nods her approval.
Newt turns to a clean page, and his eyes gleam speculatively when he looks at her. He cants his head to the side and uses his wand to strengthen the warming charm in the cave. Tina smirks, sensing the run of his thoughts, and a small thrill works through her.
"Tina," he purrs and takes a moment to dampen his lips. "Being in a cave like this is very primal. Visceral. It hearkens back to our earliest ancestors. You being on furs...greatly intensifies this effect."
Tina nods and hoists a sardonic brow, hands moving to the neckline of her gown. "Mr. Scamander. Are you asking me to be indecent?"
He nods eagerly. "Yes, please."
Tina snorts quietly and loosens the strings at her throat before unceremoniously pulling her nightdress over her head and tossing it away. Newt makes a choked sound, but when she looks at him he's still perfectly composed. Tina fluffs her hair with her fingers, causing it to swirl around her face in a storm cloud, and watches Newt's throat works when he swallows, hard.
Tina rolls onto her side and adopts what she hopes is an enticing pose. Newt points his pencil to direct her, encouraging her to angle her chin lower and pop her hip while draping a lazy arm around her narrow waist. He gives her a thumbs-up when she's in position, before returning his attention to the page.
He draws quickly, eyes warm where they fall on her, and before long Tina is forced to take careful breaths. His gaze lingers when he works on certain parts of her anatomy, warming her from within. She knows he's drawing her breasts because his hand slows, working in tight circular motions. She can tell when he's drawing further south because he captures his lip between his teeth and his brow furrows.
Newt finishes the sketch with a flourish and taps it with his wand to preserve the graphite before switching to a clean page.
"Lay flat," he directs as he crosses the room to sit beside her on the bed. Tina reclines while Newt arranges her hands over her stomach. She remains still as he works, a hauntingly realistic portrait of her hands and belly and the juncture of her legs quickly emerging. He reaches out to brush a finger through the thatch of hair between her thighs at one point, evaluating its composition before forever capturing the texture in tight thatches as Tina's heart hammers.
He shifts to a blank spot and renders her bosom, lingering on the details of her aureole. Newt leans forward to drop a kiss on the small beauty-mark living in the valley between her breasts, and Tina hums gently when he exhales against her skin. He pulls away and turns to a clean page, hands trembling visibly.
Newt guides her arms over her head and drapes her with dark fur, strategically covering and accenting her curves. There's a gleam in his eye when he plucks his school scarf from the foot-board of the bed, and Tina's breath catches as he gently winds it around her wrists.
"Is this alright?" he asks, and she nods as firmly as her trembling will allow. "It's very erotic," he promises, and Tina swallows thickly as he takes a seat. His eyes have gained a physical weight when they focus on her; Tina feels them flitting over her body while his restless hands depict her. She controls her breathing as her nipples tingle to a point beneath their fur mantle.
Newt fumbles to a finish and sets his book aside. He shifts to his knees and leans over her, eyes raking her frame before pushing the dark pelts aside. "You are lovely like this," he says, brushing the curve of her breast with his knuckles, and Tina makes an encouraging sound in the back of her throat. He smiles gently before touching her lips with his own, one hand covering her breast. "Will you let me draw you one last time?"
Tina ponders this for a moment. Newt is boyishly excited above her, an aura at strong odds with the masculine possessiveness in his gaze. She gives him a long, slow look—strong, freckled forearms, the straight line of his shoulders, his strong thighs—and smiles appreciatively.
"Okay," she decides. "But you have to tell me what you want, and you have to be quick about it."
Newt swallows, and it's very loud in the quiet of the cave. "Blame the furs, and you in them," he murmurs while urging her to sit against the headboard.
She straightens and parts her legs, sprawling them indecently. Newt stares for a moment, distracted by her display, before blinking out of it and directing her hands to lay slantwise across the juncture of her thighs, suggestively close to her mound. He doesn't free them from his scarf; instead, he drapes the excess fabric over the curve of her hip. Tina looks up at him with what she hopes is a suitably imploring expression, and Newt growls before taking up his tools.
His eyes are molten while he sketches and before long his hand halts, far more interested in her than what's on the page. Tina can't resist teasing—she uses her fingers to spread herself open, flashing him a torrid smile while tracing her outer lips. Newt stares raptly, sketch pad forgotten in favor of wanton perusal.
Tina experiences a pulse of desire when his hand floats down to the branch of his legs, to where a lump is visibly swelling in his trousers. He presses his palm against it, eyes never leaving her as his gaze darkens further.
"Go on, Tina," he encourages, curling his voice around her name in the way she loves. "Touch yourself, if you please." His eyes burn into hers.
Tina teasingly runs her fingers through the dark hair obscuring her mound, and Newt sighs unevenly. She uses her other hand to spread herself further, movements limited by her bound wrists, and expose her flushed interior. Brushing the tips of her fingers over herself results in a pleasant thrum of tension, and Newt sucks in a quick breath when she sighs in pleasure.
"Is this how it is? Whenever I'm away from you?" He seems genuinely interested in the answer so Tina manages a curt nod while dipping her fingers into herself, spreading her natural lubrication. "Do you do this often when I'm traveling?"
His voice is low and smoky. It curls arouTina'sina spine and makes her nipples and cunt tingle. She rubs the tip of her finger over her clit and hums while her toes curl. Newt rumbles at the sight and resumes palming himself through the fabric of his trousers, unconcerned when she doesn't answer him directly.
Tina draws enthusiastic circles around her clit while her other hand crooks two fingers into herself. She isn't entirely prepared so there's some drag, but her familiar ministrations soon provide inspire plenty of moisture. She inhales sharply when the first burst of heat flashes through her nerves, and Newt leans forward eagerly.
"Do you want me to watch?" he growls when Tina whines in the back of her throat. "Or do you want me to taste?"
He's leaning forward eagerly, eyes liquid in his ruddy face, hair spilling over his brow as his chest heaves beneath the tweed of his waistcoat. He's flushed and tumbled and eager. Tina groans and clenches her eyes shut at the sheer sensuality of him.
Calloused hands touch her ankle, and she opens her eyes to the sight of him kneeling before her. "Let me help," he implores, voice trembling.
Tina gasps her assent. Newt pushes her thighs further apart before sprawling flat between them. He runs calloused palms over the skin of her inner thighs, causing her to shiver in delight as clever fingers brush the rim of her cunt. He draws a single slim digit over her slit, already slick with arousal. The strength of his approving hum causes goosebumps to chase up and down her legs.
"What have you done to yourself, Mrs. Scamander?" Newt teases as he sinks a finger in, curling against her inner walls. Tina inhales sharply and doesn't answer, focusing instead on the sensations he invokes.
He presses in a second finger and kisses her curls before running his tongue out to taste her, just for a moment. Tina digs her fingernails into his scarf, and his eyes flick from her hands to her face. Newt rests his cheek on her leg as his hand rocks against her, and before long she's hissing between her teeth and arching her back, seeking friction as his fingers tempt and tease.
Newt watches her carefully, waiting for the instant when she's desperate and panting. He uses his other hand to spread her open while he patiently waits, exposing the swollen bud of her clit to the air. He tips his head forward deliberately before catching her eyes with his own—green sparking off of black—and flicks his tongue against her like a serpent tasting the air, setting her nerve-endings alight. Tina digs her heel into his back as she gasps, a slow roll taking her hips. He loosens his jaw to increase the reverberation of his tongue and Tina moans liquidly as her climax builds.
Newt shifts so his forearms contain the autonomous roll of her hips, and slants his mouth to cover her entirely. He swirls his tongue around her clit before suckling through pursed lips, and Tina cries out when something within snaps and her climax surges through her. He rides out her trembling until she calms, lapping at her in long, slow licks. He finally leans back on his haunches, the tips of his fingers brushing her teasingly, and wipes his mouth on his shirt.
Tina watches him through lazily eyes as he loosens his waistcoat and pulls off his tie. His shirt and trousers are tossed to the floor, his underwear following soon after. He crawls to cover her with his body, and she can taste herself on his lips and tongue. He breaks their kiss to nibble her jaw, and her bound hands go to where he's hard and aching, wrapping around him with practiced ease.
He huffs against her ear when she strokes him before reaching down to stop her. "None of that," he murmurs, eyes gleaming in the low light. "I have something rather different in mind for tonight."
Tina smiles, all teeth. "What were you thinking?" she challenges, and his hands go unerringly to where she's wet and still tender, pinching her clit. Tina gasps and widens her eyes before setting her jaw and squeezing where she holds him. Newt growls, a coarse, animal sound and clamps his hands over hers.
"No," he says firmly and kisses her hard enough to knock their teeth together. He pins her hands to her chest, the scarf chaffing her inflamed nipples and making her moan, and nips his way down her throat and over her shoulders. He pushes the scarf aside to find and roll her nipple between his lips. Tina arches into him while he releases her hands from their binding. They go to his back, scraping deep, red welts into his skin. Newt grunts and flicks her with his tongue, trailing a damp line over her chest and between her breasts.
He kisses her mouth in a gentle contrast before pulling back. "Turn over for me," he instructs, and his hands steady her as she rolls onto her stomach, drawing her legs beneath her so she's caught between a kneel and a crouch. "Are you comfortable?" he asks, his fingers splaying over the small of her back, and Tina nods.
"Good. Now, let me—" Newt presses down between her shoulder blades until she's laying with her bottom thrust in the air and her shoulders flat on the mattress.
Tina cranes her neck to look over her shoulder, and his eyes scorch where they land on her. "This is good, Tina," he promises, and the timbre of his voice makes her whine. Newt's face is a work of art, equal parts fascination, admiration and base desire. He flicks his head toward the cave entrance and smiles coyly while smoothing his hands over her back, hips, and thighs.
"The lyka, they inspired this, really. I've been watching you all week. I had to know you like this."
Newt exhales shakily while his hands flit over her mound, drawing lines through the moisture gathered there before deftly rubbing her clit. Tina whines in appreciation while Newt smiles and leans over her to kiss the skin covering her shoulder blade. His fingers rub faster and Tina reaches behind her to find his other hand, twining their fingers together. She can feel his panting breath on her back as he trembles with potential. He rolls his hips and whispers into her skin, "Tina, will you permit me?"
Tina signals her assent in a series of breathless gasps, distracted by his talented fingers and the feel of his skin against hers. Newt curls around her to line them up, his blunt tip pressed to her entrance.
Moaning, Tina rocks backward while Newt guides her, allowing her to take control. He twitches forward to meet her halfway until they move with locked hips. Newt holds his hips perfectly still as she rocks against him, building a rolling tempo as she impales herself over and over. Her smile is lecherous when she looks at him over her shoulder, and Newt growls and shows his teeth in response.
His hands rub and flit and eventually settle on her hips, holding her loosely while she rocks. He sighs raggedly and closes his eyes, submerged in carnality as her moans weave around them. Tina braces with her arms and jolts backward, propelling him deep enough to butt against the edge of her womb. They moan in unison at the dark pleasure of it, until Tina presses her face into the mattress to smother her cries. Newt's hand finds hers and tangles with it when his breathing stutters. She looks back at him, plush lips parted, eyes slit and pleading and impossibly dark.
"Newt," she gasps, and he nods and squeezes her hand before taking over. He sets them on a deep, hard trajectory, bumping against that hidden place deep within her that causes them both to gasp and shudder. Tina tenses and mewls and he growls coaxingly until she quivers around him, beautiful and primal with release. Newt's head falls forward when he cries out in possessive harmony before coming in a series of hard, shuddering runs.
Newt collapses against her back, panting in a lupine manner until Tina trebles and bucks him off. He collapses at her side to roll onto his back, chest heaving. He raises his eyes to meet her and they smile at each other in spite of their general devastation. "Merlin's balls, Tina," he manages and slings an arm over his face.
Tina hums and tucks against him while laying her head on his chest. She glances at her fingers in a self-satisfied manner before kissing his nose. "It was good, then?" she asks, and Newt expels a huff of tired laughter.
"Better than good," he reassures, kissing her gently. "Marvelous. Fantastic." He presses their faces together, his eyes intent. "You were incredible, as always."
Tina rolls her eyes and shifts, grimacing at the sloppiness between her thighs. "Yeah, well, you wanna give me a hand here, Newt?" He passes over her wand and she points it while murmuring a spell. A gust of warm air sweeps over them and takes the mess with it. Newt pulls her into his arms and tugs the blanket and furs over them, kissing her forehead and jaw as the lights lower.
"We leave tomorrow," Tina drowses, on the cusp of sleep, and Newt presses a kiss into her neck.
"Yes. Sleep, Tina. We'll worry about tomorrow when it gets here."
She murmurs and snuggles closer to him, sighing deeply as sleep takes her. Newt waits until her breathing evens out before gingerly disentangling from her. He magically preserves his sketches and freshens and folds their clothes. Then he uses a flannel to wash before crawling back into bed, pressing against her warmth. Tina sighs and shifts closer before settling, and Newt kisses her shoulder and neck while murmuring adorations into her ear.
They leave in blowing darkness, bundled against the cold while the lyka drag them through the night. Tina turns to look at their cave, rife with fond memories, and Newt smiles at her from the corner of his eyes. "Will you miss it?" He touches her hand beneath their drapes as Tina gives the issue serious thought.
"It wasn't so bad," she decides finally. Newt's eyes gleam, and she goes on. "The last night was the best, though." He smiles fully and wraps his fingers around her before facing forward, toward their shared future as the beasts hasten them toward it.