Guards in MACUSA/Grindelwald. MACUSA’ prison cell. Deprivation of senses. Non-con. Delusions. While trying to break Gellert’s mind, Seraphina does not forget about breaking his body too.

Oooh, I like it.  Gellert deprived of everything but touch, unable to tell when there are even people in the room with him much less when they’re going to touch him or what they’ll do.  I love the idea of him thinking he can handle it at first, and when he first starts to lose it he doesn’t even realize what’s happening – hearing conversations and voices and thinking MACUSA didn’t do such a good job with the sensory deprivation after all, but none of it’s actually real.  All the while, of course, being shown how little control he has over his body.  Such a wonderfully dark idea

Day 25 – Thesival

Prompts: Tickling | Scat | Boot Worship | Olfactophilia (Scent)

Rape/Non-Con

Chapter tags: Theseus Scamander/Percival Graves, A/B/O, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Alternate Universe – Pornography, Filming, Objectification, Dehumanization, Extremely Dubious Consent, Boot Licking, Scent, Mating Instincts

Read it on AO3!

Theseus shrugs off his robe and gives it to the stagehand, rolling his shoulders to stretch knotted muscles as he takes his place on set – his chair is the only piece of furniture save for the thick mattress, but it’s not as though anyone will be watching for the scenery.  The crew is still putting the finishing touches on the lighting, and though he’s eager to get to the main event, he forces himself to be patient.

It’s a good thing he has going for himself, and if he has to wait around every now and then, so be it; it comes with unlimited access to as much omega pussy as he wants, so long as he fucks whoever they put in front of him and lets them film it.  Not a bad deal. If he stays with the studio long enough it’s even in his contract that he can pick one of them to mate, if he does the claiming on camera.

“Who do we have today?” he asks one of the assistants, and she glances up from her notes with a knowing look.

“Your favorite.”

Theseus frowns.  “Percy?”

“Yup.”

“He’s not my favorite,” he protests on principle, but she just shakes her head and goes back to her clipboard.

“All right, let’s get this moving,” the director shouts, and at last the buzz of activity settles down.

Theseus leans back in his chair and spreads his legs, adjusting his dick.  His clothes aren’t the most comfortable – heavy leather combat boots and military trousers left open at the front, showcasing his thick alpha cock – but they suit their purpose, and he doesn’t anticipate being in them for long anyway.

He strokes himself lazily for the camera, dick twitching in anticipation of having an eager little omega drooling for him soon.

There’s no mistaking when the omega is brought in; his scent rolls through the entire room, and Theseus growls low in his throat.  It is Percy, Theseus knows his scent even before he comes into view, all pale skin and big eyes, clouded over with an induced heat.  He’s delicious, irresistible, and Theseus’ cock grows hard in response. There’s a reason the crew is made up of betas; for an alpha to be locked in the same room with such a ripe omega and not fuck it would be pure torture.

Theseus doesn’t have that problem.

Percy’s eyes are fixed on him, glancing up only briefly before sliding straight down to his cock, mouth falling open in a cute little o-shape.

“On your knees and crawl,” his handler orders when Percy takes a step forward, and he obeys the command without his gaze so much as flickering from Theseus’ length.  He moves forward as though being reeled in, looking practically in a trance of heat and need. Theseus knows from experience that he’ll do whatever the fuck he’s told in order to get an alpha dick.  That’s part of what he likes about Percy – obedient to a fault.

Now that he’s closer Theseus can see how shallow his breathing is, the way his pupils are blown wide and dark, how his plush arse wiggles as he crawls.

He stops at Theseus’ feet and whines, seemingly caught between nosing in at Theseus’ balls and turning around to present that arse to be mounted.  

“What a fucking slut,” Theseus breathes.  The studio likes it when he talks – they like his accent – and that suits Theseus fine.  He always has had a mouth on him. “Look at you, bitch, you’re already dripping for my dick.”

He can smell it, sickly sweet like fruit gone soft and left in the sun, and another growl wells up from his throat at the thought of pressing his cock inside that quivering wet pussy.

That has Percy pressing his cheek to the ground in submission, arse still sticking up in the air, almost looking surprised when his body does it on instinct.

“Close up on the face,” someone is saying off-set, but Theseus doesn’t particularly care.  “Yeah, that’s it, now pan left and get his hole.”

“You think you’ve earned this dick?” Theseus asks.  “Show me how much you want it, you better convince me.  Use that tongue.”

For a moment he isn’t sure if Percy understands – omegas are slow like that – but then he lifts his head up and sticks out that cute little tongue, leaning in towards Theseus’ cock.  And god, that would feel amazing, but it will have to wait.

He grabs Percy by the back of the neck, startling a little squeak out of him and pushing his nose back down to the floor, shoving his face against the toe of his boot.

“Lick.”

Slut that he is, Percy darts out his tongue without hesitation, lapping and suckling at the leather as though trying to please it.  The sounds he makes are beautiful. He does a messy, desperate job, lathing the toe cap with saliva before turning his head to the side and licking along the arch, interspersing with sloppy kisses and little moans and whimpers.  The bitch loves it – he looks like he’s starving for it, arse wiggling while he devots himself to doing what Theseus orders, and a camera sweeps in to capture every filthy detail.

“Good boy, that’s my good little bitch,” Theseus praises, and he sees a shiver of pleasure run through Percy’s body.  The slut is so soft and pliant, such a dumb little thing so ripe for breeding, and Theseus doesn’t know how much longer he can wait to fuck that pussy; the scent rolling off him is intoxicating, exhilarating, and it’s a fucking shame that’s the one thing the camera can’t capture.  “Gonna fuck you so deep,” he says, voice a low rumble in his throat. “Slide inside that pussy and just – fuck – I’ll fill you up with my cock until you cry, you want that?”

Percy trembles, still lavishing attention on Theseus’ boot, and he must just be the sweetest omega the studio owns.

Fictober 2018 | Day 24

funkzpiel:

Kink!Fic Cont. | Vampires, Non-Con/Dub-Con, Mind Control – Gavin900
Continued from this fictober post

Gavin woke slowly, as though from the clutches of a heady drug. His mind felt foggy and his eyes felt as heavy as his limbs felt leaden, but the more he focused, the more he realized he wasn’t waking in his bed or in any true sleeping position at all.

He was waking atop a stranger’s dick, his thighs shivering as he straddled another man’s lap. He blinked and moaned, confused – and fuck, it felt good – as he tried to wrap his head around what was happening. But every thrust chased the thoughts away, making it hard to focus past – fuck, yes, there, harder.

Instead of pawing at the stranger and pushing him away, he found his hands seeking purchase and stability on his shoulders as his hips began to grind, seeking more attention and greater depth to the dick spearing him.

“Ah, there you are,” the stranger said, pulling back to grasp Gavin by the chin and look at him even when Gavin grumbled – confused and irritated and overwhelmed and embarrassed – and tried to shy away. A thumb stroked his kiss swollen lower lip. Gavin thought his mouth tasted a little weird, too, but not from any drug. He knew the taste of another man’s cock on his tongue; he just couldn’t fucking remember it.

“Y’drugged’me,” he slurred, blinking to clear the haze in his vision as – Connor? No… Not Connor. The stranger from the bar, the suspect. Nines – smiled like he was a very cute dog to be patted and guided.

“No, pet,” Nines said, dipping a thumb into Gavin’s mouth with no resistance. The moment Gavin tried to bite him, he felt the thought flee his head, leaving him frowning even as he sucked the man’s thumb obediently. “I don’t need drugs to get what I want. Not when you want it so bad, you horny little thing. I barely had to push at all, you crave so desperately to be wanted. To be touched.”

“Nnn,” Gavin moaned, throat caught on a no. That wasn’t right. He didn’t want this, he was helping Connor and that shithead Hank and—

Hands on his hips, teeth at his throat and those eyes; looking at him like he knew him. Fire blooming in his groan and a haze, his mind slipping away.

“Drugs,” Gavin grunted again, convinced, until something shivered in his chest – weak and needy and making him feel boneless and post-orgasmic minus the actual fun part – when a tongue stroked at two swollen points on his neck. Punctures, he realized as that tongue dipped gently into them, laving pressure into the wound and spreading that weird soft feeling further.

“No, pet,” Nines said into his throat, “This is all you. You were made for me as so very few are. Made for the night and my teeth and to dance on my dick. It’s been so long since I found another like you. So long since last we met.”

That struck a cord, made his head hurt. He whimpered and Nines swallowed down his complaints with a hot tongue and eager lips until he nearly forgot he was in danger here, that he hadn’t climbed atop that cock of his own accord and he had been working before this.

“You’re the killer,” Gavin gasped, as certain as he was strangely weak beneath the man’s touch. He needed his gun, a weapon – anything. The thought scattered and he moaned, knowing he once again forgot something important; but what?

“A killer,” Nines admitted, “But not yours. Never yours. I’m not your killer, pet.”

“Then’wha?”

Nines thrust hard three times, making Gavin keen in ways that caused him to blush furiously even as his cock bobbed eagerly on his belly.

“Your soulmate,” Nines said and Gavin felt the realization sear into him, setting gears into place in his mind as though they had gone without a special, specific part to wind properly all this time.

He spilled and Nines fucked him through it until he was slack and whimpering, weak as a kitten as he gathered him into his arms and played with the bite he had branded into his flesh.

“Mine,” Nines purred possessively, stroking and petting and nibbling on every oversensitized inch of him. “Forever.”

This is so hot – I adore the “soft feeling” you describe, how Gavin has thoughts plucked from his head and melts so gorgeously well, completely helpless against the fall, and just OH MY GOD IT’S SO GOOD.  His little struggles are the best, because it just shows how totally powerless he is.  And the mind fuck that some part of him actually wanted it – wonderful.

Day 24 – Goldgreenie

Prompts: Pegging | Leather | Lapdances | Shower/Bath

Rape/Non-Con

Chapter tags: Queenie Goldstein/Percival Graves/Tina Goldstein, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Kissing, Cunnilingus, Pegging, Telepathy, First Time, Fem Dom

Read it on AO3!

Percival isn’t really sure how it happened.  He’d been working late – as usual. Sorting through mountains of paperwork – as usual.  And Queenie had appeared at his office door with coffee – not usual, but very much appreciated.  He remembers thinking that she really was an angel, bringing him fresh coffee before she left for the night, and then…

Well, now he’s naked, paperwork all haphazardly shoved to the side so that there’s room for him to lay lengthwise across his own desk, and his mind is a soft, hazy cloud.

He feels nice.  His body feels nice.  The soft hands on his skin feel nice, and he moans as they caress him.  His nerves spark with pleasure everywhere he’s touched; his back, his waist, his inner thighs, all tingling pleasantly.  Someone’s petting his hair, manicured nails lightly scraping over his scalp, and it sends a blissful shiver down his spine.

“Oh Teenie, he loves it,” Queenie’s voice says, somewhere off to his left.  “You were right, I ain’t ever seen a guy take it so well. He’s adorable.”

Adorable…?  Is he?

“That’s right, sweetie.  You look so cute all soft like this.”

He doesn’t have time to decide how he feels about that before Tina’s face comes into view, her hand cupping his cheek.  “Our good boy,” she says, heat in her voice, and leans down to press a kiss to his lax lips.

Her lips plush lips feel perfect against his own, soft and full and tasting of lipstick.  Her tongue slipping into his mouth lights him up from the inside, and he parts his lips to let her deepen the kiss.  He’s been wanting to kiss her for a while now.

When she pulls back he whines.  Tina laughs at him, dragging her thumb across his bottom lip and patting his cheek consolingly.  “Don’t worry, the fun’s not over.”

Tina disappears from view and a moment later the desk rattles as Queenie climbs up, situating herself right in front of Percival.  Her skirt rides up, and he can’t help the way his eyes are drawn to the lacy edge of her panties. She giggles. “You like them, honey?”

He does.  He likes the lace and the way the soft pink silk clings to her, the promise of what’s underneath, the way her clothes seem to do more to tease than cover.

Queenie draws her hands up over her hips, lifting her skirt even more.  She hooks her thumbs into the waistband and slowly slips the thin fabric past her thighs, over her calves, down around one delicate ankle, and finally flicks them off entirely.  Percival’s breath catches. Her pale thighs are still pressed together, but she’s sitting bare in front of him and he wants…

She slides closer, opening her legs and cushioning his head against her thigh.  She smells sweet and musky, pink and pretty and glistening, and when she urges him on with a hand in his hair he doesn’t hesitate.

It feels so good to press his tongue into her folds, to hear her moan above him.  He laps at her with abandon, suckling messily, and her gasps of pleasure make him feel warm all over.

There’s a sound behind him, but he doesn’t let it distract him from his task.  He just enjoys the hands massaging his arse, spreading his legs wider where they hang over the edge of his desk, moans into Queenie’s folds when his cleft is spread open.

Something nudges against him from behind.  Something blunt and rubbery and cold with slick, and it feels so good when it rubs up and down between his cheeks, he’s never felt anything like it.  He’s never been played with back there, and the new sensation leaves him a shivery, sensitive mess.

“He – oh! – be gentle with him Teenie, he… oh, oh yes – don’t stop sweetie – he ain’t, ah, ever done this before.”

“He’s a natural,” Tina murmurs, though at what Percival isn’t sure.  “Already opening up for me, his little hole’s just winking. He’ll take me so perfectly, I can tell.”

Percival still doesn’t really know what that means, but so long as he can keep lapping in Queenie’s soft flesh and Tina keeps rubbing his anus he really doesn’t care.

The blunt head of the toy shifts to tighter circles, pressing right against his aching rim.  He wants… he doesn’t know, but he needs more. His body craves something he can’t fathom, and he prays that Tina knows what to do.

She does.  The tip of the toy breaches him, slipping just inside his eager hole, and yes, that’s what he needs.  He didn’t know it was possible, but he needs to be filled.  She takes hold of his hips, gripping tightly to hold him in place, and rocks her hips forward; fucking into him little by little, spreading him so deliciously wide as the inches of her cock sink into his body.  

He doesn’t know how long it is, but by the time her hips are pressed against his arse he can feel it bulging in his belly.  His own cock is trapped against the desk, the head poking out between his legs and drooling precome as it struggles and fails to rise.  He tries to shift, to take himself in hand or just find a position where he can get properly hard, but Tina and Queenie’s grip on him hardens like steel.

When Tina finally thrusts, his vision whites out with the pleasure.

Day 23 – Grindelnewt

Prompts:  Scars | Master/Slave | Shibari | Size Difference

Rape/Non-Con

Chapter tags: Gellert Grindelwald/Newt Scamander, Scars, Master/slave, Marks, Objectification, Size Difference, Institutionalized Slavery, Bondage

Read it on AO3!

Newt squirms under the weight of his Master’s body, reveling in it.  Not for the first time he thinks how lucky he is – Theseus could have traded him off to anybody, but he chose Grindelwald, and now Newt’s life is bliss.

Master nips at his earlobe, the skin there delicate and sensitive, and Newt’s chains rattle when he presses up for more.  He doesn’t remember how long he’s been shackled to the bed, but really, does it matter? More important is Master, nibbling down his throat to his collar bone and biting at the thin, white scar that crosses it.

His body is speckled with such scars, collected during too-careless adventures chasing doxies and hinkypunks as a child.  He’d been reprimanded for each one, for marring his flesh and depreciating his body’s value, but Master loves them.  He licks and sucks at them until the surrounding skin is pink and flushed, making his marks stand out all the brighter, and he’d added his own as well; sliced into his skin and worried at the cuts for days, weeks, ensuring that thick knots of scar tissue formed in just the right places.  And then he’d called Newt beautiful.

Newt feels beautiful, laid out on the bed ripe for the taking, with Master’s hands pressing him into the mattress.  He shifts his hips, needy; however long it’s been since he was last fucked is too long. His body cries out to be used, and it’s so difficult with Master’s warmth blanketing him, close but yet so far from what he craves.  His hole twitches, loose and ready, and he whines.

“Slut,” Master says affectionately, and Newt preens.  He is a slut, and he’s ready for Master to take advantage of him.  He can feel Master’s hardening shaft against his thigh, sensitizing his skin and hot enough to make him melt into the mattress, yielding and pliant.

His own little prick stands up proud, drooling a messy puddle onto his belly.  He’s half the size of Master, slender and meek between his legs even when he’s brimming with arousal.  He likes it, and he knows that Master does too. His own cocklet can only twitch and leak fluids, but Master’s is thick enough to spread him open, long enough to reach his molten core, potent enough to fill him to dripping.

Newt spreads his legs, eager, and Master laughs.

In one quick movement Master flips him over, startling a delighted squeak out of Newt and making him bounce on the mattress before he’s deliciously trapped once more.  Newt fits beneath him so well, malleable to Master’s every desire. His hips fit right up against Newt’s arse, and his body responds without thought, arching his back in preparation for a deep fucking

Master penetrates him in one smooth stroke, and when he bites the deep scar at the nape of his neck, his little cock spills onto the sheets.

Day 22 – Grindelgravebone

Prompts: Impact Play | Cuckolding | Hand-jobs | Threesome (or more)

Underage, Rape/Non-Con Elements

Chapter tags: Gellert Grindelwald/Original Percival Graves, Gellert Grindelwald/Original Percival Graves/Credence Barebone, Extremely Underage, Rape/Non-Con Elements, Kissing, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, Cuddling & Snuggling, Innocence, Shota

Read it on AO3!

Credit where it’s due, this was absolutely inspired by @thepiperofhameln‘s wonderful art

Percival is roused by the sound of little feet on the bedroom floor, and a sniffle at the bedside.  The room is shrouded in darkness, the curtains drawn so that not even faint moonlight spills through, but when he cracks his eyes open he can just make out the shape of his little boy standing there hugging himself, too scared and shy to ask his daddy to wake up.

“Bad dream, baby?” he mumbles, tongue still heavy with sleep, and Credence nods.  His poor boy. He’s too young for all those nightmares. “You want to sleep with Daddy and Papa?”  Another nod, and Percival pulls the covers back so Credence can climb into his arms. “We’ve got you, baby boy, c’mere.”

The bed is soft and warm and Credence cuddles into it immediately, his little body snug against Percival’s and so completely trusting.  He clings, tiny hands holding on to Percival’s shoulders, little heart fluttering in his chest, legs wrapping around Percival’s waist. He wears only the loose nightshirt Percival had dressed him in before bed, which isn’t quite long enough to cover his plush little bum.

Percival wraps one arm across Credence’s back and uses the other to cradle his soft behind, and rolls them so that Credence is snuggled right between him and Gellert, caged in by their bodies.

Gellert stirs and grunts in his sleep, not yet realizing that their sweet boy has joined them.  Percival knows he won’t mind being woken up, not for Credence. The boy reaches for his papa, little hands grasping, tucking his nose into Gellert’s shoulder, and Gellert has an arm around him before he even really wakes.  He meets Percival’s gaze in the dark, surprised but pleased to wake up with an armful of baby boy, and his expression melts into a soft, hungry smile, bending his head to murmur in Credence’s ear. “Do you need Daddy and Papa to chase the nightmares away, sweet boy?”

Credence nods against him, and Percival knows that his little squirms have the same effect on Gellert as they do on him.  Credence looks so content snuggled between them, his Daddy at his back and his Papa at his front, safe and protected in their bed.

Gellert eases back, putting just enough space between them that he can duck down and place a kiss on Credence’s forehead.  Credence makes a quiet, happy noise, squirming back against Percival in search of body contact, while Gellert peppers him with kisses.  His cheeks, his nose, his chin, his lips – Credence is still learning how to kiss back, but the way he opens his mouth for Gellert’s tongue makes Percival’s cock twitch.

He plays with Credence’s bottom while they kiss, slow and sloppy.  He squeezes his plump cheeks, working a hand between his little legs so that he can press a finger right to that tiny hole and rub, adoring the way his baby sticks out his behind and relaxes so easily.  A quick grab for the tube on the bedside table and his fingers are nice and slick, sliding inside that tight baby channel and slowly working him open.

He presses tender kisses to the crook of his boy’s neck as he works himself inside, making Credence giggle and shiver with how his lips tickle.

Credence is panting into Gellert’s mouth by the time Percival is ready to press his cock inside, easing it into his body bit by bit.  His hole flutters at the intrusion, gripping his Daddy’s dick, and Percival groans. He knows it’s a lot for his boy to take, his little body stretching so wide; he’s slow and gentle, and when he’s finally fully seated with his hips flush to his boy’s bottom he just rocks, letting Credence feel him moving inside.

“How does it feel?” Gellert coaxes, and Credence whines softly.

“G-good, Daddy, good…”

“Do you like having Daddy in your bottom?”

“Uh-huh… ‘s good, uh, in my tummy.”

Percival has to bite his lip on a moan, fisting a hand into the sheets to keep his hips slow and gentle and stop himself from pounding his boy into the mattress.

“But what about Papa?  Can Papa play too?”

Credence nods, eyes big and round, and Gellert takes his little hands and guides him down to his cock.  It takes both hands to wrap around his length, and the awe on his face as he grips it is beautiful. Gellert helps him start to stroke and then goes back to kissing him, open mouthed and filthy, while Credence moves his hands.  He’s clumsy and his strokes uneven, but he tries so hard to make his Papa feel good, his little brow creased in concentration. Gellert doesn’t seem to mind.

Percival is confident that by the time they’re done, nightmares will be the last thing on his baby boy’s mind.

sssilkworms:

HEY HO! i’m not dead, i was just on vacation and also busy moving! very rusty, but still in love with these two and ready to mine the next movie for inspiration heeh

This art is lovely, but it took me until a good few seconds to realize that the text was not, in fact, Percival explaining to Newt where he’d been while Grindelwald took his place. I was just like, “huh, on vacation and busy moving, that’s a new one,” until well into the second sentence before I finally realized what was up lol. It’s possible I’m very tired and shouldn’t be browsing tumblr in the middle of the night :’)

Volatile Times – MercurialTenacity – Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies) [Archive of Our Own]

Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Relationships: Credence Barebone/Original Percival Graves
Series: Part 9 of It’s A Cruel World for Small Things
Summary:

Instinctually Credence curls in on himself, cowering into the cushions of the armchair as though it were any protection at all, breath lodging painfully in his chest as Grindelwald turns to advance. He’s pinned by that gaze, knowing the pain it will bring, and he has to be good for it, he wants to be good but his mind freezes in the face of such sheer fury.

“Mine,” Graves growls, and before Credence can flinch Graves hauls him up by the scruff of the neck, shoving him towards the bedroom.

In the glance Credence catches from the corner of his vision, Grindelwald looks livid.

I’ve had this sitting mostly finished for a ridiculously long time, and finally decided tonight to just finish it already.  Please let me know if you like it, it means a lot!

Volatile Times – MercurialTenacity – Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies) [Archive of Our Own]