Day 16 – Gramander

Prompts: Nipple Play | Frottage | ~~Body Worship | Sixty-nine~~

No Archive Warnings Apply

Chapter tags: Newt Scamander/Original Percival Graves, Nipple Play, Kissing, Office Sex, Frottage

It’s been a long day, and Newt is – he’s more than tired, he’s bone-deep exhausted. And yet he’s still at MACUSA, still working, the last one in the office for all he knows. His creatures are all settled in for the night, but he can’t afford to do the same for himself. He has a proposal on endangered creatures to finish, advisory notes to write up for a case, another chapter of his book to draft, and bloody hell if sitting in this office isn’t a worse torture than his most grueling fieldwork. The only relief is knowing it’s temporary – soon he’ll be off again, free at last – but it’s a small consolation when his eyes are burning from the late hour, his hand cramping from holding a quill, and his back aching from MACUSA’s less than comfortable chairs.

A knock on the door pulls him from his thoughts, and he looks up with a start.

“Mr. Scamander – forgive the interruption, I saw the light.”

Director Graves makes a cutting figure in the doorway, but on a closer look Newt can see the same tell-tale signs of exhaustion he feels in himself; slight bags under his eyes, tie not quite straight, a weary smile which speaks of a momentary respite from a never-ending stream of work.

“No no, come in Mr. Graves. Any excuse for a break.”

Graves nods in appreciation, shutting the door behind himself. “If you were one of my aurors, I’d tell you to pack in for the night. We have a policy in my department, no one besides myself here past nine unless someone’s life is at stake.”

Newt smiles ruefully. “In that case, perhaps I’d like to be an auror after all.”

“You must take care of yourself, Mr. Scamander,” Graves says, and he’s close enough now to lean across the desk and place a hand on Newt’s arm.

Newt pauses. The touch, he must admit, feels good – it’s been far too long since he’s taken the time to relax with another person. But is Graves really offering…?

“I’m afraid I’ve always been better at taking care of others, than myself,” he responds carefully.

Graves smiles, and there’s a heat growing in his eyes. “Perhaps you need someone to look after you.”

Newt swallows, his heart beating a little faster at the possibility. “I – yes. Perhaps.”

That seems to be all the invitation Graves needs. He rounds the desk and squeezes Newt’s shoulders, caresses his neck, before cupping his jaw and lifting his head up for a kiss. His lips are soft and hungry all at once, and it’s wonderful.

In moments he has Newt up out of his chair, clearing away the papers on the desk with a quick flick of his wand so he can lift Newt onto it, lavishing kisses down his throat. Newt spreads his thighs so that Graves can step between them, bodies pressed close together. Graves grinds his hips forward, rubbing against Newt through their clothes and groaning with the sensation, and Newt can feel the bulge of him.

Newt tips his head back and lets himself moan when Graves nibbles at his collar bone, basking in the sudden pleasure – it feels so good to be touched and kissed and caressed, and Merlin, what did he do to earn a midnight rendezvous with Director Graves?

Graves’ hands rest on his sides, stroking him through the thin fabric of his shirt and making him press forward for more before his hands start to explore, stroking down over his thighs, up to his chest, and oh – his thumbs brush Newt’s nipples, and he goes soft in Graves’ arms. He’s always been weak for that, always craved to be touched there.

Graves notices, and he chuckles. “You like that,” he says, voice dark, and Newt can only nod. He does. Graves indulges him, rubbing his thumbs in deep, slow circles which make his spine melt until he gently lays Newt out on the desk and unbuttons his shirt.

He lays his hands on Newt’s pectorals, squeezing, and it’s pure bliss. Then he teases, the bastard, tracing his fingers in maddeningly wide circles which make Newt shake, until at last he spirals inwards to pet his nipples again. He pinches, taking the hard little nubs between his thumb and forefinger and rolling them gently, and Newt tosses his head side to side, pushing his chest up for more. He wants to beg Graves never to stop.

Graves finds a steady rhythm, rolling his hips against Newt’s while his fingers work his nipples; squeezing and then rubbing deep, deep into the muscle of his chest, until Newt’s spine melts and he’s coming apart at the seams. He’s never had someone treat his nipples quite so well.

Whatever he did to earn this, he makes a vow to do it again.

I remember reading some cockwarming in a really dark Gradence fic you wrote so like just saying… if you do Gradence + cockwarming for Kinktober I will owe you my soul <3

I’m trying to remember what fic that was… a Cruel World one maybe, I think that had some cockwarming? That’s definitely really dark XD

Anyway thank you! I definitely have a couple days that feature cockwarming, not sure if there’s a gradence one in there? But I’ll absolutely keep it in mind, and I’m sure it’ll come up again before too long!

Day 15 – Thesival

Prompts: ~~Forniphilia (Human Furniture)~~ | Overstimulation | ~~Intercrural Sex~~ | Uniforms

No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapter tags: Original Percival Graves/Theseus Scamander, BDSM, Light Bondage, Humiliation, Verbal Humiliation, Degradation, Homophobic Language, Handjobs, Uniforms, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation

Read it on AO3!

Percival shivers, exposed as he is on the bed. He’s spread eagle, wrists and ankles tied expertly to the corners, leaving him nowhere to hide as his throbbing cock curves up over his belly and betrays his eagerness.

Theseus looks down at him, seeming all too smug, and Percival does his best to bury his face in his shoulder.

“Look at me,” Theseus orders, and Percival does. Theseus is immaculate; the lines of his jacket are crisp, belted around the waist with a line of medals pinned meticulously to his breast; his tie is straight, his collar starched; his trousers perfectly pressed with clean creases running down to his gleaming boots. Percival was damned the moment Theseus found out what it did to him to see him in that uniform.

His dick twitches and he feels horribly, wonderfully vulnerable in comparison.

Theseus sits down on the bed next to him, back straight, and surveils Percival’s body as though it were a territory he wished to conquer.

He runs one gloved hand down the length of him, over his chest and stomach, the leather cool against his skin as it comes to rest at his groin. He fists Percival’s cock, squeezing cruelly. “You’re hard,” he says. “That’s disgusting.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Percival gasps, but even as he says it his hips thrust up into Theseus’ hand.

Theseus sneers. “Cocksucker.” He releases his grip, reaching for the bottle of lube on the nightstand, and Percival watches him pour a generous portion into his hand.

The slide of the leather against his cock is glorious, and Percival throws his head back and moans at the perfect, firm pressure of Theseus’ strokes.

“How vulgar. Do you want to come, cocksucker?”

“Sir – yes sir, I do sir -”

Theseus speeds up his rhythm, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive head of Percival’s cock. “Go on, then. Debase yourself. Come from a man’s hand on your cock.”

It only takes moments for Percival to spill, falling over the edge embarrassingly quickly with what Theseus is doing to him. His muscles seize, body jerking, and Theseus just milks him through it while Percival comes all over his hand. It feels wonderful, the shame making his pleasure burn brighter, sparking along his nerves and filling his core.

It crests, washing through him and over him, going on and on – and it doesn’t stop. Theseus’ hand is still working his cock, and it’s too much, too soon. He needs to rest before he’s ready to go again, and he squirms in discomfort, trying fruitlessly to escape Theseus’ grip. It isn’t so much pleasure anymore as pure sensation, and it makes him pant and writhe.

“Sir – sir!”

“Shut up, before I put my dick down your throat and make you shut up.”

Percival wouldn’t actually mind that, but he bites his lip all the same, trying to do as he’s told. Still, he can’t stop his whimpers – it’s so much,teetering between pleasure and pain, and Theseus is relentless. He’s hard again all too soon, his skin feeling tight and tender, and he sobs when the beginning of an orgasm builds within him once more.

“Sir, sir, SIR!”

His orgasm is ripped from him, twisting in his belly and leaving him a quivering, sobbing mess under Theseus’ hands. The lightest of his strokes feels like a bolt straight through to his core, and though he gentles his touch, he still trails fingertips up and down his hypersensitive shaft while Percival shakes.

“Look at you,” Theseus says, and despite his best efforts Percival can hear a bit of awe in his voice. They’ve only just gotten started, and fuck – this is going to be a good night.

Day 14 – Newtacles

Prompts: ~~Asphyxiation | Cunnilingus~~ | Distention | Tentacles

Rape/Non-Con
Chapter tags: Newt Scamander/Tentacle Monster, Trans Male Newt Scamander, Head Injury, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Breeding, Oviposition, Vaginal Penetration, Cervical Penetration, Mind Break

Read it on AO3!

By the time Newt notices the tentacle wrapping around his ankle it’s already too late.

He takes a step and trips, notebook and wand splashing in the shallow water and scattering the school of tiny, glowing fish he’d been studying. The sudden chill shocks him, and for a moment he just scrambles to push his head out of the water as he soaks through to the skin. He grabs for the notes, pulling them out of the water in a hurried attempt to save them from being ruined. He’s spent three days in this cave, he can’t afford to lose all that work.

He doesn’t have time to inspect the damage; the thing around his ankle tugs, and though he reaches for his wand his fingertips only just brush it before he’s pulled out of reach.

That’s unfortunate.

He turns, pushing himself up to sitting and trying reflexively to pull his leg free. He can’t see what has him. The water is shallow but dark, and without his wand for illumination all he has to work with is the feeling of a thick, muscular tentacle winding up his calf. Each time he pulls back it squeezes tighter, jerking him sharply as he scrabbles for purchase against the slippery rocks – it doesn’t take more than a moment to realize he can’t overpower it.

It pulls, hard, and the stones slide out from under him as he splashes back into the water, the back of his head colliding with solid rock.

Things get fuzzy after that.

The creature’s progress is much faster once they get to deeper water, and Newt can’t stop himself feeling a pang of helplessness as the walls of the cave slip by, all light fading until he’s left in utter darkness.

At long last they drift to a stop. He doesn’t know the depth of the water he’s floating in, or how far they’ve gone from the cave entrance. He doesn’t know what has him. He does discover, however, that it has many, many tentacles.

They wrap around him at once, twining over his legs and hips and sliding under his shirt, and it’s the most peculiar feeling; the creature is cold against his skin, its flesh thick and rubbery, but everywhere it touches him is lit with a pleasant, tingling warmth. The creature must enjoy it too, because it seems to seek out every opportunity for skin to skin contact. It slips under his clothes wherever it can, tugging at them like a nuisance – until a seam rips, and with surprising dexterity it pulls off his shirt.

The rest of his clothes follow soon after, and he’s left naked in the inky blackness as strong limbs caress his body. Newt’s attempts to ward off the grasping tentacles only ends with his wrists caught, and he realizes with alarm that his entire body has become trapped within the writhing, shifting mass. His arms, his legs, his torso, are all wrapped up in the warmth from the tentacles, which roam over his body as though searching for something.

The slick tip of a tentacle dips between his legs, just brushing against his pussy, and god – he kicks out, hard, managing to make his foot connect with the creature. He doubts he did it any real damage, but the tentacle between his legs pauses.

It retreats, but Newt doesn’t even have time to sigh in relief before something thick and blunt presses against his lips. It’s insistent, other tentacles joining in to pry his mouth open, and Newt can do little more than moan in protest as the thing slips past his teeth.

It’s huge, stretching his jaw uncomfortably wide and stopping just shy of making him gag. It takes no notice of his attempts to bite, but after a moment it starts to… swell. It locks behind his teeth, filling his mouth completely and muffling his panicked noises. It tastes sweet.

Newt gulps reflexively, his body swallowing the thick secretion filling his mouth to avoid choking. It’s pouring down his throat, sitting heavily in his stomach and making his head spin the more he swallows, but he can’t stop.

His body radiates warmth. The tentacles caress him, and he relaxes into their hold. It’s not so bad, he realizes. It’s so nice to be touched, fondled, played with and explored, why would he struggle against something that feels so good? Even the fluid in his mouth feels good, warming him up from the inside and melting his core, turning him soft, and he suckles to get more of it.

The tentacle between his legs returns, and he doesn’t mind so much any more. The creature spreads his thighs apart, exposing his pussy to its probing limbs, and Newt feels arousal bloom in his belly as it strokes his folds. It’s bliss.

When it finds his entrance and slips inside he almost comes from the pleasure, realizing suddenly that this is what he’s always wanted. What he’s always needed. He needs to be filled, and oh, it’s filling him so well – making a space for itself deep inside him, more tentacles joining that first one and opening him up so wide, taking him so deeply.

It bumps up against his cervix and his body spasms; he’s never been touched there before, never had something so deep inside him. There’s a sensation of heat inside him, and pressure, as it writhes in his body. He’s stuffed so very full – and then something shifts inside him, and his body gives way.

The tentacle that pushes into his womb must be small, he knows that, but it feels enormous. He’s skewered straight through to his deepest place, held open for this creature to use, and he loves it.

The creature shifts, and when it settles again it’s with the strangest sensation of something travelling up those tentacles inside him. A little lump, barely noticeable as it moves through his channel but suddenly overwhelming when it reaches his cervix, pushing itself deeper, deeper, until it’s finally implanted in his waiting womb.

There’s another, and another, pumped into him in a seemingly unending stream, forcing his body to expand and mould itself to accommodate them. Before long he’s bulging with the creature’s eggs, his belly taught and heavy, constantly stroked and encouraged as it grows.

Newt can’t really think any more, but he feels happy – happy to be useful.

Hello Please Imagine size difference kink with Grindelgraves??? Either bc Percival is a smol guy, or a different species, like an elf or something, and Grindelwald decides he’d rather like to fuck him, and his human cock is biig compared to Percy’s tiny body. Something along those lines??? Or Grindelwald is just hung and Percy gets a glimpse of it and is like hooooly shit. He shouldn’t want this but he does, can’t help imagining what it’d be like to be fucked by this.

Oooh let’s see… Percival who’s always been on the smaller side, always been a little self conscious about it, catching sight of Grindelwald’s bulge and suddenly all he can think about is that dick. How it would feel stretching him open, Grindelwald’s big hands on his hips, pounding into him, holding down his lithe frame with his bulk and strength – suddenly, for once in his life, Percival doesn’t mind being small. He wants Grindelwald to make him feel small, and he shouldn’t, but oh – he does.

I’m not the original anon so if they reply their idea should take precedence but if you’re opening up to the floor then I vote “the sisters deciding to have some fun and make Graves serve them” it’s such a hot idea (because i love dominant ladies and sub graves is amazing, especially when you write him)

I love this scenario too tbh. Subby graves who’s so good at doing what he’s told, and Tina and Queenie just having such a good time playing with him – having him eat them out, pegging him, getting him all nice and pliant. Yes please :DD

Day 13 – Grindelnewt

Prompts: ~~Weight Gain~~ | Distant/Distracted Sex | Gags | ~~Creampie~~

Rape/Non-Con
Chapter tags: Gellert Grindelwald/Newt Scamander, Sexual Slavery, Master/pet, Blowjobs, Gags, Humiliation, Distant/Distracted Sex, Deepthroating

Read it on AO3!

Newt works his tongue, doing his best to please his master’s cock from his position between his thighs. Above his head, pages rustle as Grindelwald flips through the evening paper. Every now and then he shifts, making a noise of appreciation when Newt does something particularly clever or skillful with his tongue, so he prays he isn’t disappointed. He couldn’t bear that, he’s doing everything he can – he’s been trying so hard, licking and suckling, but Grindelwald is still only half hard in his mouth, and the memory of the last time he was displeased with his performance is still seared into his mind.

He ignores the persistent ache in his jaw around the ring gag. The gag helps him be quiet and pleasing, so he’s grateful to his master for giving it to him. The only sounds which come out of him are little gulps and gurgles as he fucks himself on Grindelwald’s cock, and Grindelwald said he likes hearing those sounds, so it’s okay.

He takes Grindelwald to the root, burying his nose in the coarse hair at the base of his cock and holding himself there. He’s rewarded by a hand absent mindedly stroking through his hair.

When the need to breath becomes overpowering he pulls back, just far enough to pull in deep, gasping breaths through his nose. Drool spills around his gag, dripping over his chin, but it’s fine because Grindelwald likes it when he makes a pathetic, slutty mess of himself.

He gets a pat on the head before Grindelwald reaches back up to turn the page, and Newt takes him deep into his throat one more in an attempt to be a good cocksleeve for his master.

Hi! I really love ur blog! Did u ever consider writing something about Tina, Queenie and Percival? I’d love to read it <3

Thank you! I haven’t really, but I still have a few slots left in kinktober… How would it go? Graves being pleasured by two beautiful women? Graves being pleasured by two beautiful women whether he wants it or not? The sisters doing their duty and serving Graves? The sisters deciding to have some fun and make Graves serve them?

Day 12 – Crewt

Prompts: Licking | Pet Play | ~~Rimming/Analingus | Costume~~

No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapter tags: Newt Scamander/Credence Barebone, Pet Play, Enthusiastic Consent, Aphasia, Licking

Read it on AO3!

Credence can barely sleep for the excitement. He has to sleep, he knows that, and he tries to calm himself down, but he tosses and turns with anticipation all night. He just can’t wait until morning, because in the morning he gets to wake up as Newt’s pet.

It’s a game they’ve played before, many times – but this time is special. This time, Newt has finally found the spell Credence has been craving ever since he confided what he wanted to Newt three months ago, and learned it might be possible. It’s taken this long to find the right one, to make sure they were certain of every detail, for Newt to practice until he could do the charm and counter-charm effortlessly, and now, finally, it’s time.

When Credence wakes in the morning he won’t be able to understand a word that’s said to him, just like all the rest of Newt’s creatures. It makes his cock twitch just thinking about it. To be that helpless, that dependant, that his most human ability – his capacity for language – is taken for the day… he’ll truly be a pet, not a person anymore.

They’d planned it meticulously to make sure they each knew what to expect, that it wouldn’t be overwhelming for Credence; he even had hand signals to use if he wanted Newt to reverse the spell, or to stop something he was doing. Newt had insisted they take every precaution, and as much as Credence wanted to try it soon, as soon as they could, he has to admit Newt had been right to insist. What they’re doing is new, a completely different level than anything they’ve tried before.

Still, as Credence finally drifts off to sleep, his anticipation far overpowers any nerves.

He wakes to gentle sun spilling through the window and the soft sounds of other creatures. He blinks sleepily, looking up from his cushion in the corner to see Newt already dressed and moving around the cottage, preparing breakfast for all the case’s occupants. Credence watches him for a moment before Newt realizes he’s awake, and when he does he sets down the bucket he’d been filling and smiles, crossing the room to crouch in front of Credence.

Usually Newt doesn’t come to Credence until the middle of his rounds, treating him just like he would any other creature, but today they’d agreed it would be best if he checked on Credence first.

He pets Credence’s head, and he nuzzles into it when he scratches behind his ear. He looks down at Credence, eyes twinkling, and says… something.

Credence blinks up at him. Newt repeats himself, slowly, but though Credence knows he must be saying something like good morning, it is completely unintelligible. For all he knows Newt isn’t even saying real words; it just sounds like nonsense.

He can’t suppress a grin, and Newt smiles back at him. He gives Newt the hand sign they’d agreed meant keep going, just in case he was worried, and Newt seems happy to do so. He says something else, soft and affectionate, and gives Credence the opportunity to lick his hand.

Credence nuzzles against him again and darts his tongue out to taste Newt’s fingers, lapping at them in his own morning greeting. He curls his tongue around his fingertips, eyes sliding shut as he sinks down into the bliss of not thinking.

Newt strokes his head one last time before returning to his morning work. Credence watches from his cushion as he finishes preparing breakfast. When he swings the front door open Credence stretches, letting his blanket slide off as he follows Newt onto the porch and finds a spot to curl up as he attends to the other residents of the case. Newt talks to everybody as he feeds them, and Credence lets the stream of sounds wash over him.

It makes him feel simple, not to understand. Slow and diminished, and so very aroused.

He can already tell – it is going to be a very good day.

Day 11 – Grindelgraves

Prompt: Object Insertion | Sounding | ~~Cross-dressing | Tribadism/Scissoring~~

Rape/Non-Con

Chapter tags: Gellert Grindelwald/Original Percival Graves, Bondage, Sounding, Fingering, Object Insertion, Begging, Humiliation

Read it on AO3!

“No, you – you bastard, for Merlin’s sake, stop!”

Grindelwald does not stop. He presses his fingers deeper inside, seeming to take pleasure from Graves’ hopeless struggles. He can’t get away, he can barely even move; Grindelwald has him trussed up at the edge of the sofa, stuck on his back and nearly folded in half, leaving both his ass and cock fully accessible. Grindelwald has taken full advantage of the position – a shiny metal rod already gleams in the tip of Graves’ cock, impaling him and fucking his cock as his muscles contract around the fingers in his ass. Graves had screamed when it went in, and Grindelwald had grinned like the devil.

“Oh pet,” he says, scissoring his fingers. “We’ve hardly begun.”

Graves opens his mouth to curse Grindelwald to hell and back, but all he can manage is a moan.

Grindelwald works him open mercilessly, steadily, and just slow enough to make it feel good. He can’t help getting absorbed in the rhythm of having his insides stretched, it’s not his fault that his mind starts to drift.

Eventually Grindelwald’s fingers leave him, and he isn’t sure if he’s relieved or disappointed. He doesn’t have time to ponder it – Grindelwald is inspecting his cock, gripping the end of the sound and slowly, slowly, sliding that unforgiving metal out of him.

Graves trembles, overworked muscles giving out as he sags against his bonds, but his respite is short lived. The next sound Grindelwald teases around his slit is thicker, heavier, and as it sinks into him Graves thinks he might die.

But his body takes it, opening up all too willingly.

He jolts when something cool presses past his rim, spreading his ass open around something smooth, cold, and unforgiving. He looks down in shock, a wave of nausea washing through him when he sees – the vase from the end table is halfway inside him, sticking out obscenely and stretching him open where its slim neck flares out into a wide base. Grindelwald has a look of determination on his face, watching Graves’ muscles shudder and twitch as his body adjusts to accommodate the intrusion.

Grindelwald fucks it in into him until he’s loose and sloppy, only pausing occasionally to switch his sound out for a bigger one. After one such interruption he pulls the vase out entirely, leaving him uncomfortably empty while he leans to reach for something Graves can’t see.

When Grindelwald settles back between his legs he’s holding a wine bottle, and Graves has a horrible moment of pure terror before his vision dissolves into darkness, falling numb to the world.