Newt Scamander Imagines

All Through the Night

Writed By: writingsbymac (Tumblr)

Warning: SMUT

♡Abigailbreslin55♡

The darkness surrounding you, and the comfort of the love of you life laying right beside you, was more than enough to make you a sound sleeper. The warmth of the flannels sheets, the Hufflepuff quilt above you and the man curled into you back was the specific formula for your good nights rest and even a single variation in that formula, and you were restless. So the second the night air rested heavy on your skin, you woke up to a startle. You knew immediately that it wasn’t the sheets nor the quilt that were enabling your rest, it was the lack of the body beside you, surrounding you in his deepest affections you until you rose again. Turning quietly, you notice the quilt turned up and the light on in the sitting room. You rose from the bed in your shear nightgown and padded down past the chill wooden floor of the hallway into the room, where in the large armchair, facing the window, sat a man with wild red hair flying about in every direction the air could pull it. You bend to kneel beside the chair. You move your hand over his own, his other one covering his eyes, supporting his head. Not even 2 seconds after you set your hand on his own, his hand fly up into the air, eyes now alert, jumping out of his skin. The second he sees you beautiful eyes bugging out with alarm he settles back down, letting your fingers intertwine.

    “I’m sorry, love, did I wake you when I got up?” He asked, voice soft and accent delicate, none to less, there was clear distinction of distress in his voice.

    “No no, I only awoke when I felt you not there.” You whispered comfortingly. He exhaled heavily, and ran his long lean finger back through his hair. “Newt, darling, why are you up so late? It’s 2:30 in the morning?” You looks an against his arm giving him a stern yet concerned expression.

    “To much on my mind to sleep, I’m afraid.” He sighed deeply, rubbing his hands together. “You go back to bed, love. I didn’t intend to wake you with my pathetic predicament.”

    “Would you like to talk about it?” You whispered so softly he hardly heard.

    “No, no. It’s quite alright. I don’t want to keep you up.”

    “Newt.” You spoke again. This time, instead of persistently insisting you let him be, he pats his lap, which you immediately crawl into curling against the dorky, yet dashingly handsome man.

     “Can I just hold you for a while?” He breathes shakily into you neck where his face is buried.

      “I’m your wife, Newton. You can hold me whenever you please.” You reminded him, quietly giggling.

      “Oh, right. Good deal then, eh?”

      Then, you two just sat there. Just the darkness, your hearts beats. Your skin pressed against each other, only your night clothes guarding you from complete exposure, something you fondly reminisced about your wedding night, and many after. Only now, his shaky breaths and the damp skin of your neck where his eyes hovered over, did you realize how exposed Newt was in this moment. How raw in his emotions, and just how much he wasn’t afraid to show his vulnerability at the same time. He only had told you to go back to bed, thinking he’d been inconveniencing you. He’d always been quite fine with sharing his emotions with you, but this felt strangely different, and it definitely scared you, the state he was in.

   Suddenly you feel fingers linger around the hem of your night grown, caressing the skin of your thigh, ever so lightly, the sensual touch of a feather. Soon, his fingers linger higher and the inside of your thigh receives a firm squeeze that makes you breath out a deep sound in between a gasp and a moan.

     “Tell me, Newt. Please. I can’t help if you don’t talk to me!” You pleaded, panting. Yet, now, you feel the tears roll down your skin. His eyes glowed in the dark, and could see now he was crying, to. “Let me help you.” You repeated. “Please. Let me help you.” 

      There was more intense silence as you saw the usually lighthearted, dorky man cram his eyes shut.

    “Look at me, a bloody mess, like a massacre happened in here!” He coughed out in a bitter laugh. You couldn’t help smile, as well. Just like Newt to crack a joke in a serious situation.

    “Yet somehow, even when you’re crying, you are the most handsome man I’ve ever came across.” He began to rub small circles on your lower back, kneading out the tight muscles. Their was more awkward silence but you held onto it like you did with his hand in a large crowd.                          

      “I was 17, at the time. A young rebellious bloke, young enough to not know how moronic I was being.” He spoke out suddenly in the darkness. You couldn’t help but let a small gasp escape your mouth, never did Newt talk about his years at Hogwarts, not at all in the 4 years of being with him, had he mentioned much of anything about his days there, other than immense Hufflepuff pride.  "Even now, it was over a decade ago yet, it still bothers me, is that nuts? The things I’d hear of them all say.“ He imitated a higher voice now. "I was blackmailed, I was cheated, I was lied about and mocked, and thrown around like rubbish. Some played tricks for everyone else’s amusement, the reason I got expelled. ‘Look at him,’ They’d say. ‘He’s nothing compared to that brother of his!’ Professor Dumbledore always knew, he encouraged my passion and helped pursue it. When that poor muggle was nearly killed, he had them expelled weeks before he finally gave up on letting them keep me around.” You could feel his gasping sobs in his chest as he sputtered out the words. His cheeks where shining in streaks of tears, making your own worse.

      “Oh, Newt,” You whisper, “I had no idea how horrible it all was for you!”

     "I hardly think of it anymore, It was a while ago, and we were all young and immature.. But tonight, I was thinking of…“ He paused for a brief moment of suspense,”…Of how much I don’t deserve you, and I suddenly remembered all they said, and start to wonder if what I’m doing even matters at all.“ Suddenly you turn, gripping your thighs around his hips looking him in the eyes.

     "If anything Newt, I don’t deserve a man as caring and passionate and loving and handsome as you.” You placed light kissed up his jawline.  “If you could see yourself through my eyes, you’d never worry again. Your work, and your passion for it, and why you do what you do was the every first reason I fell for you, many more to come..“ With your final words, you pushed your fingers into his wild red hair and pulled his mouth against your own and let your tongues intertwine in a battle of fiery passion, and much needed acceptance. Newt, with a new found dominance compared to his usual awkward, uncertain demeanor, skillfully pulled the night slip off your lovely frame, your hair falling in curtains around you as you ran your hands downward, feeling the strength of his arms, then upwards wiggling through his silky hair, connecting to the wisdom in his mind, and let them finally rest against his firm chest, drawing love from his pure soul. "Every part of me is overjoyed at the thought of spending the rest of my life by your side. Never, ever think I’m not the most proud woman alive to be Mrs. Scamander."

    "That’s a relief, I started to believe one day I’d awake and both you and Frank would be gone without a trace!” You giggled, leaning closer to maintain the intimate atmosphere. “Well, good thing Thunderbird’s aren’t my type, the legitimate kind like Frank, and especially not the Ilvermony kind. I’m more of a Hufflepuff loving kind of gal.” His white grin glowed like his eyes in the darkness of the room.

     "Y/n?“ He spoke again after a moment of silence. "How you would you like, if you’d like that is, to mother a little Hufflepuff?”