Newt Scamander Preferences

When Smut and Poison Don't Mix

A/N: Smut (as promised) and drama. You have been warned. ;) Decided to write something more poetic, as opposed to trash. Hope it's still enjoyable! Let me know your thoughts!

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With inhabitions cast away, all that remained was a carnal yearn for a euphoric paradise.

Up and down- bodies moved together. Both lost in their own isolated sea of pleasure.

Porcelain skin worshipped by both hand and mouth. Elicit words of praise, freely given as an award. Frequently collected.

Tongue-explored thighs, flowered with the most delicate of Tyrian Purple bruises. Put there lovingly, in an attempt to steady the writhing form.

Droplets of salted-dew rolled across the map of love-bitten collarbone. Sticky but so sweet to the taste. Lapped up hungrily by lips slick with a shattered rapture. A perfumed scent, the delicious mixture of desire and satisfaction.

Fingers tangled in short, auburn Breathe stolen by eager kisses, intent on the capture of erotic declarations that, boasted of pleasure and undeniable adoration.

Breathe stolen by eager kisses, intent on the capture of erotic declarations that, boasted of pleasure and undeniable adoration.

With the animalistic cry of two touch-starved wolves, a storm brewed and the sea became a torrent of need.

The tempestuous need for a end, brought a lascivious midnight blue into the teal Mediterranean Sea. A glazed over stare that one would happily drown in.

A sudden flash of white, hot but cleansing lightning flashed across the dikated pupils.

The end greedily tore away the few remaining shreads of consciousness that either of the sated lovers possessed in those final moments.

Beautifully cool sheets met damp, blushed skin. Bodies now enveloped in the heavy comfort of tangled limbs and pale cotton.

Or at least, that was how Newt Scamander pictured your first intimate moment as a married couple would be.

After such a busy day full of celebrations, it was fair to say that neither of you quite fancied the idea of hot and steamy sex. Instead you were more than happy to snuggle up together and have Newt out loud to you the latest bestseller by UGottaLoveDraco, whom you both shared as a favourite author.

However before such snuggling could commence, Newt was desperate to shed his fancy suit- courtesy of some expensive tailor- for plain and wholesome cotton pajamas.

"I'll literally be two minutes. Don't you want to change too?" he enquired, not understanding how you, his spouse, were managing to lie so comfortably on the bed, in such an beautifully crafted (but undoubtedly uncomfortable) outfit.

"Do you know how much this cost, Newt? A lot, that's how much. I want to get my monies worth out of it." you giggled and stretched out you weary limbs. "Now hurry up and get dressed. I want to cuddle my gorgeous husband.

Mock saluting you, Newt grinned. "Yes, (insert nickname)." he muttered before disappearing into the walk in wardrobe- which in your opinion, was the size of a studio flat in Brooklyn- to change into something more comfortable.

While waiting for your beloved to return, you looked to your left, noticing a litre bottle of water on the side table. After all of the dancing and talking, you were certainly in the mood for a crisp, cool sip of H2O.

Soon enough, you were pouring yourself a drink into one of the two provided glasses and eventually draining to contents.

As soon as she finished her last mouthful, you knew that something was horribly wrong.

The icy chill that ran through your veins like acid confirmed your suspitions.

You choked and clutched at your throat as the muscles constricted, cutting off your supply of oxygen.

Whilst in the wardrobe, Newt was none the wiser to the torment that you were experiencing, si he continued to lazily change into his light blue pajamas.

Eventually he exited the room and that was when he came across the tragic scene.

You were upon the floor, unmoving. Blood trickled from the corner of your mouth. Your eyes, only moments ago so full of life, were now staring up at the ceiling, glazing over and unseeing.

With a cry of anguish, Newt threw himself beside you- his paling beauty- checking frantically for a pulse.

He couldn't take his eyes off of you, even when tears pooled and blurred you from his sight. He quickly blinked them away.

His screams for help echoed throughout the rooms and corridors beyond the hobeymoon suite but also to one particular guest, whose solemn expression had only been avidly watching you at the church only ours before. His lips twisted into a grimace as he imagined your cooling body, lying there limply in the arms of the man you loved.

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TO BE CONTINUED...