fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme | Prompt Post #2

ROUND 2

Seeing as we've reached 4,000 comments in Round 1, it's time to make a new one. Same (lack of) rules apply. Gentle reminder to everyone to refrain from posting extremely long prompts, though. While no word limit will be imposed, take note that it is very unlikely for someone to fulfill your prompt if your prompt alone is already several paragraphs long and containing a number of specifications.

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-(01/14/2016) We now have a TRADING POST where you can exchange fills with people.
-The prompt freeze is over! You may resume posting prompts. The next freeze is scheduled on February 8, 12:00 AM (PST) or if this round reaches 4,000 comments; whichever comes first.
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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Every year, MACUSA has a holiday party. And every year, President Picquery makes Graves dress up as Santa for the kids of the workers. Somehow, Tina gets pushed into sitting on 'Santa's' lap.

LMAo and seconding

IMAGINE INSTEAD OF TINA IT WAS NEWT

Then it would be a different prompt.

Not cool to hop on a request and try to change the pairing. The OP asked for what they wanted.

(I had no inspiration for holiday fics all season, and now I write one. Go figure. Hope you enjoy!)

“If I get written up for cultural appropriation, your name better appear alongside mine,” Tina says, mouth hardly moving as she speaks to Graves. Her arms are crossed over her chest in a most un-elf like fashion—or, a most un-holiday-elf-like fashion. Her impression of a naturally bitter house elf was actually quite good. “And your beard is falling off.”

Graves hastily tucks the itchy, offensive article back under his chin, the adhesive charm obviously not doing its job. “You’re supposed to be a No-Maj elf, Goldstein. I’m hoping the good people of the office be able to differentiate.”

Tina scoffs. It looks particularly adorable paired with her stormy eyes and the wing-like elf ears that came with her costume—a costume that is not permitted to be taken off before the holiday ball is over, decreed by both Madam Picquery’s word and wand. “But what about the kids, sir? They don’t know any better. They’ll be asking the poor house elves about chocolate frogs and color-changing socks in the morning.”

“I wish you wouldn’t call me sir while I’m wearing long underwear stuffed with pillow feathers,” Graves says, smiling weakly at Auror Henwick’s little girl as she walks by in a star-struck daze. “If we’re both going to make fools of ourselves, we may as well settle on Christian names.”

Tina snorts out a laugh, not even trying to cover up the noise, which Graves finds charming. “Fine. Percy.” The current changes between them, but it isn’t unpleasant. She’s only called him that one time before and there was a considerably larger amount of jazz and firewhiskey in the room.

Graves licks his lips as he bites back a grin—the kind of grin that usually came with a case cracked wide open or a suspect on his knees in front of him, the kind of grin the Junior Aurors knew to fear. “Alright then…Teenie.”

“Absolutely not,” Tina deadpans, and they both laugh as Queenie comes bounding up from the gold-decorated main stairwell with her two little ones in tow.

“Mrs. Kowalski looks like she’s got trouble in the brain,” Graves says lowly, but then again, she always looks a bit like that. He’d expect little else from the woman who singlehandedly challenged the inter-magic marriage laws and won. When he glances up at Tina, she’s got a pinched look on her face, one that has very obviously been pointed at her sister before, one that says you stop reading my thoughts little missy.

“Santa, Santa, mama said you’d be here!” Gilly, the elder daughter, immediately clamors into Graves’ lap, which he accepts with a muted oof. “I already know what Papa got me for Christmas, but I wanted to see you anyways.”

Graves nods sagely. “Keeping with your studies, I see. You’ll be as fine a Legilimens as your mother soon.” He’s only met Mr. Kowalski a handful of times, but the girls look much like him—all cheer and sparkle and wonder. “But you’ll still have to be a good girl tonight, or I may forget your gifts.”

“Alright then, sugar, give your sister a turn,” Queenie says, offering Graves a politely apologetic smile. “Sarah’s a bit shy still. You’ll have to excuse my little honey bunches.” She gives the other girl a little push towards Graves, whose lap is suddenly empty. “Go on now.”

“I’m right here, dearest,” Tina says from over Graves’ shoulder. “Come sit by Auntie Teenie.”

Oh, so the little one can call you that, but the man who brought you to completion thrice in one evening must settle for formalities, Graves thinks, but reminds himself he is, in fact, an adult.

But Sarah, a shy-faced little girl who reminds Graves sadly of those New Salemer girls he wanted so desperately to help, just shakes her head.

“Oh, I know,” Gilly says, bouncing on the tip of her toes. “Auntie Teenie can sit on his lap first!”

There’s a beat of silence filled only by the laughter of passing groups and the low din of In the Bleak Midwinter being played by the band downstairs.

“Oh, baby, Auntie Teenie already asked Santa for a present,” Queenie says, doing her best to ease the awkwardness, but then she startles a bit and glances up at Tina, eyes widening. “Oh, Teen,” she murmurs, cheeks pinking.

“Merlin’s beard, hush,” Tina says, her own face burning scarlet.

Graves is positively elated.

“Will you, Auntie?” Sarah tugs at the edge of Tina’s green felt costume, her eyes big as she looks up at her aunt. Graves sees Tina’s resolve crumble in the face of her doe-eyed niece.

“Of course,” Tina says, and rests a hand on Graves’ shoulder as she steps around the plush gilded chair. In a slow, smooth motion, she sits down on Graves’ right thigh, tucking her legs between Graves’ to give herself some space. She smooths out her skirt, but Graves can feel the heat of her thighs and ass against him beneath the material of her candy-striped stockings. She drapes one arm across his shoulders to keep herself steady before turning her head to look at him, her gaze dark and confident. “Now, Santa, maybe you’ll be good to me this year.”

Graves bites back a growl, settling for resting his hands on her slim hips, letting the fabric bunch between his fingers. “Perhaps,” he says quietly, wanting nothing more than to tug her body tight against his. He feels his cock swell in his costume, reacting against his will to Tina’s heat and smell and wicked, wicked little smile.

Queenie clears her throat, cheeks still pink. “Maybe we’ll go get some cocoa before Sarah takes a turn,” she says, ushering the girls to her side.

“That may be best,” Graves almost croaks, hand rising to graze the dip of Tina’s waist. “You’re cruel,” he says, lips close enough to her pointed ear that he’s grazing her cheek as he speaks. “And I want nothing more than you laid out on my bed tonight.”

“It’s Christmas Eve, Percy,” Tina says dryly, punctuating the sentence with a delicious little grind of her ass towards his cock. “I’ll stop by tomorrow.”

“I’ll be expecting you,” he says, keeping her in his lap with a firm grip on her hips. “Teenie.”

I love everyone here! This is great description, and Queenie's telepathy can come in very handy. And the fact she beat the marriage laws.... this whole thing was great!

Awwww!

What a delightful fill. Loved the complicity between them, and Jacob and Queenie having children made it even better.

Prompt Post #2

Graves/Tina- Santa Baby, humor, fluff

Re: Graves/Tina- Santa Baby, humor, fluff

Re: Graves/Tina- Santa Baby, humor, fluff

Re: Graves/Tina- Santa Baby, humor, fluff

Fill: Graves/Tina "so hurry (tonight)"

Re: Fill: Graves/Tina "so hurry (tonight)"

Re: Fill: Graves/Tina "so hurry (tonight)"

Re: Fill: Graves/Tina "so hurry (tonight)"