((Future parts are going to be shorter than that first one. Sorry folks. So glad everyone likes it though!! Feel free to offer suggestions on who you'd like to see where. I have some plans but everything is pretty open right now.))
Tina kept her head bowed slightly, looking up at her boss in a way she only had in fantasies before, not that she would’ve admitted it to anyone but her sister. Which wasn’t even by choice, really. The man was a force to be reckoned with, cool and confident, efficient and untouchable. Then suddenly everything was different, Grindelwald had swept in and changed so much. No matter how much the Director tried to behave as though not a single goddamned thing had budged so much as a millimeter everything was different now. That intangible air of superiority was no longer so convincing, at least not to his own department, not to the team that had known him before and saw the subtle shifts now. The team that had failed him so thoroughly.
But without that carefully maintained barrier between him and the rest of the aurors, the rest of MACUSA, hell, the rest of the world, he was suddenly knowable, reachable, and so delightfully warm under her fingertips as she let her hands drift slowly up from his knees to the inside of his thighs. She let her fingers press in, just firm enough to not take no for an answer, spreading his legs, coaxing him to lounge a little more relaxed on her couch even as she inched forwards, her shoulders between his knees, her fingers lifting to smooth up his chest. He was still too light. She could tell by the way her fingers found small, subtle ridges of his ribs even through the layers of shirt and vest.
Still needing to gain back weight or not he was a powerful man, broad and well muscled, and when her hands drifted back down, fingers skimming over his belt she wasn’t sure which of them shivered harder. Tina lifted her gaze to meet his, dark and hungry and full of a heat she had only dared dream of. There was something so viscerally satisfying about that, seeing that expression turned on her and she couldn’t help the way her lips curled into a half-formed smirk, her lower lip pouting out just enough to make that heated gaze focus on her mouth with an intensity that left her breathless.
“Last chance…” She let her voice carry, head turning just enough to flick her gaze over her shoulder to the rest of the room. Not that she expected anyone to duck out now but now that they were all here and undeniably doing what they’d only discussed with Queenie she felt like she should offer up an out. Mostly for Newt… and Credence. She hates how uncertain both of them are and perhaps if she hadn’t spent the last 5 years nursing a desperate lust for the man before her she’d have been a little more considerate to start with them. But this still seemed just a touch surreal and like hell she wasn’t going to take an opportunity once presented to her.
“No one is leaving, Goldstein.” Percival all but growls above her and she gasps softly, the tone and, impossibly, the formality making heat race down her spine. The subtle reminder that he was still her boss, even if work was the farthest thing from their minds.
“Yes, sir…” A soft murmur, her teeth finding her lip as his hand lifted to thread into her hair, tension fluttering through his belly and she could feel it against her knuckles as she finally began to unfasten his belt.
-----
For being probably the two most straight-forward, abrupt, sometimes even abrasive people in the room they sure were taking their sweet time getting on with it. How they managed to do that with the sinuous curl of magical heat unfurling in their bellies was beyond Jacob. Or maybe he was just that excited to be here, doing this with these people that had so swiftly come to mean so much to him. Queenie was still lazily stroking her fingers through Credence’s hair, over his shoulders, soothing and relaxing and gorgeous.
Somehow, probably without even really meaning to, Newt had gradually distanced himself from the rest of the group. A few steps here, a flickering of his gaze there and now he stood alone at the far side of the room, gaze on Tina and Percival but something a tiny bit sad in his eyes. Jacob flicked a glance at Queenie who gave him the briefest of nods, smile brightening and Credence gasped softly as she did something with her fingers in his hair.
Then Jacob was moving across the room, a wry smile setting his moustache at a slant and Newt glanced up, blushing as though he’d been found out at something improper. It was improper, really. If only by American standards. None of it really mattered though, not to them, not when they were all so fragile and it was only through their combined efforts that any one of them hadn’t shattered over the last weeks. And all of it was because of Newt. All of it. They would be strangers ground to mud in the gears of this great city if this brilliant, fascinating, gorgeous man hadn’t swept in and upturned all of their lives.
“Heya, Newt?” Jacob lifted a hand, gesturing for the redhead to come closer, to step away from the security of the wall at his back. Newt tilted his head, curious but still doing as requested anyway. Before he had a chance to figure out precisely what it was that Jacob wanted, though, strong fingers fisted into his vest, wrenching him off balance and crashing their lips together.
-----
Queenie is reluctant to draw her fingers out of Credence’s hair, the strands thick and silken under her touch and she wants to bury both hands into his hair and just luxuriate in the feel of it. She hums softly to herself, promising to do so later. Instead she withdraws her hand, pushing gently away from his warmth to reach for her wand. It’s the work of a few moments to change the rug to something thicker, fluffier and more comfortable. It takes a fair bit more concentration to shift the solid, heavy wood of the coffee table into a tumble of thick plush cushions. They’re still a little heavy, too stiff and she frowns, sighing a little.
This was why she wanted Newt’s help with this part. Not that she was about to interrupt when Jacob had the redhead pushed up against the wall now, mouths hungry and needy and she flicked her wand in their direction. Both men’s ties slither away from their throats, drifting over to the dining room table to begin the pile that will gradually increase. Briefly she considers charming off Percival’s tie but she resists, thinking that part of the appeal for Tina, just now, is how incredibly put together the older man looks.
His belt though, that can go onto the table. She barely begins to move it when she feels Credence stiffen beside her and instead flicks it urgently under the couch, hidden from sight and she turns a blinding smile on the younger man.
“Your turn, sweetheart.” She practically purrs as both hands thread into the thick, dark waves of his hair, finally. Briefly she thinks that it’s no wonder his mother forced him to keep it so painfully, hideously shorn. His hair alone is sinful in its decadence and Queenie just takes a moment to savor it before she leans in, kissing him softly. It’s a chaste kiss, a light brush of lips, but even that is enough to make him whimper.
Her hands move from his hair, stroking lightly from his ears, his jaw, the long pale column of his throat, down along his arms as she steps back from him. Another twirl of her wand and her dress slinks off of her form to join the dining room table’s pile. Queenie grinned at Credence, sashaying over to the open space in front of the fire, stepping gingerly onto the plush blanket and then lowering herself onto it, sprawling out, long limbs stretched out and gleaming golden pale in the firelight.
“Do come on, boys.” A playful murmur as she looks over to where Credence and now Jacob are staring hungrily after her. Newt is a little too flushed and preoccupied with press of Jacob against him to realize exactly what the shift of events is right away but once that green-gold gaze focuses on her Queenie’s breath catches in her chest at the intensity of it.
Fill: Auld Lang Syne 2/?
Tina kept her head bowed slightly, looking up at her boss in a way she only had in fantasies before, not that she would’ve admitted it to anyone but her sister. Which wasn’t even by choice, really. The man was a force to be reckoned with, cool and confident, efficient and untouchable. Then suddenly everything was different, Grindelwald had swept in and changed so much. No matter how much the Director tried to behave as though not a single goddamned thing had budged so much as a millimeter everything was different now. That intangible air of superiority was no longer so convincing, at least not to his own department, not to the team that had known him before and saw the subtle shifts now. The team that had failed him so thoroughly.
But without that carefully maintained barrier between him and the rest of the aurors, the rest of MACUSA, hell, the rest of the world, he was suddenly knowable, reachable, and so delightfully warm under her fingertips as she let her hands drift slowly up from his knees to the inside of his thighs. She let her fingers press in, just firm enough to not take no for an answer, spreading his legs, coaxing him to lounge a little more relaxed on her couch even as she inched forwards, her shoulders between his knees, her fingers lifting to smooth up his chest. He was still too light. She could tell by the way her fingers found small, subtle ridges of his ribs even through the layers of shirt and vest.
Still needing to gain back weight or not he was a powerful man, broad and well muscled, and when her hands drifted back down, fingers skimming over his belt she wasn’t sure which of them shivered harder. Tina lifted her gaze to meet his, dark and hungry and full of a heat she had only dared dream of. There was something so viscerally satisfying about that, seeing that expression turned on her and she couldn’t help the way her lips curled into a half-formed smirk, her lower lip pouting out just enough to make that heated gaze focus on her mouth with an intensity that left her breathless.
“Last chance…” She let her voice carry, head turning just enough to flick her gaze over her shoulder to the rest of the room. Not that she expected anyone to duck out now but now that they were all here and undeniably doing what they’d only discussed with Queenie she felt like she should offer up an out. Mostly for Newt… and Credence. She hates how uncertain both of them are and perhaps if she hadn’t spent the last 5 years nursing a desperate lust for the man before her she’d have been a little more considerate to start with them. But this still seemed just a touch surreal and like hell she wasn’t going to take an opportunity once presented to her.
“No one is leaving, Goldstein.” Percival all but growls above her and she gasps softly, the tone and, impossibly, the formality making heat race down her spine. The subtle reminder that he was still her boss, even if work was the farthest thing from their minds.
“Yes, sir…” A soft murmur, her teeth finding her lip as his hand lifted to thread into her hair, tension fluttering through his belly and she could feel it against her knuckles as she finally began to unfasten his belt.
-----
For being probably the two most straight-forward, abrupt, sometimes even abrasive people in the room they sure were taking their sweet time getting on with it. How they managed to do that with the sinuous curl of magical heat unfurling in their bellies was beyond Jacob. Or maybe he was just that excited to be here, doing this with these people that had so swiftly come to mean so much to him. Queenie was still lazily stroking her fingers through Credence’s hair, over his shoulders, soothing and relaxing and gorgeous.
Somehow, probably without even really meaning to, Newt had gradually distanced himself from the rest of the group. A few steps here, a flickering of his gaze there and now he stood alone at the far side of the room, gaze on Tina and Percival but something a tiny bit sad in his eyes. Jacob flicked a glance at Queenie who gave him the briefest of nods, smile brightening and Credence gasped softly as she did something with her fingers in his hair.
Then Jacob was moving across the room, a wry smile setting his moustache at a slant and Newt glanced up, blushing as though he’d been found out at something improper. It was improper, really. If only by American standards. None of it really mattered though, not to them, not when they were all so fragile and it was only through their combined efforts that any one of them hadn’t shattered over the last weeks. And all of it was because of Newt. All of it. They would be strangers ground to mud in the gears of this great city if this brilliant, fascinating, gorgeous man hadn’t swept in and upturned all of their lives.
“Heya, Newt?” Jacob lifted a hand, gesturing for the redhead to come closer, to step away from the security of the wall at his back. Newt tilted his head, curious but still doing as requested anyway. Before he had a chance to figure out precisely what it was that Jacob wanted, though, strong fingers fisted into his vest, wrenching him off balance and crashing their lips together.
-----
Queenie is reluctant to draw her fingers out of Credence’s hair, the strands thick and silken under her touch and she wants to bury both hands into his hair and just luxuriate in the feel of it. She hums softly to herself, promising to do so later. Instead she withdraws her hand, pushing gently away from his warmth to reach for her wand. It’s the work of a few moments to change the rug to something thicker, fluffier and more comfortable. It takes a fair bit more concentration to shift the solid, heavy wood of the coffee table into a tumble of thick plush cushions. They’re still a little heavy, too stiff and she frowns, sighing a little.
This was why she wanted Newt’s help with this part. Not that she was about to interrupt when Jacob had the redhead pushed up against the wall now, mouths hungry and needy and she flicked her wand in their direction. Both men’s ties slither away from their throats, drifting over to the dining room table to begin the pile that will gradually increase. Briefly she considers charming off Percival’s tie but she resists, thinking that part of the appeal for Tina, just now, is how incredibly put together the older man looks.
His belt though, that can go onto the table. She barely begins to move it when she feels Credence stiffen beside her and instead flicks it urgently under the couch, hidden from sight and she turns a blinding smile on the younger man.
“Your turn, sweetheart.” She practically purrs as both hands thread into the thick, dark waves of his hair, finally. Briefly she thinks that it’s no wonder his mother forced him to keep it so painfully, hideously shorn. His hair alone is sinful in its decadence and Queenie just takes a moment to savor it before she leans in, kissing him softly. It’s a chaste kiss, a light brush of lips, but even that is enough to make him whimper.
Her hands move from his hair, stroking lightly from his ears, his jaw, the long pale column of his throat, down along his arms as she steps back from him. Another twirl of her wand and her dress slinks off of her form to join the dining room table’s pile. Queenie grinned at Credence, sashaying over to the open space in front of the fire, stepping gingerly onto the plush blanket and then lowering herself onto it, sprawling out, long limbs stretched out and gleaming golden pale in the firelight.
“Do come on, boys.” A playful murmur as she looks over to where Credence and now Jacob are staring hungrily after her. Newt is a little too flushed and preoccupied with press of Jacob against him to realize exactly what the shift of events is right away but once that green-gold gaze focuses on her Queenie’s breath catches in her chest at the intensity of it.