Prompt Post #2

[fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme]

  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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Comments

Graves/Grindelwald- Petting, possible non/dubcon.

[(Anonymous)]

Graves really wishes it didn't feel so good when Grindelwald pet him.

FILL: Graves/Grindelwald- Petting, possible non/dubcon.

[(Anonymous)]

A touch doesn't feel the same when you do it yourself. It doesn't feel the same when you know it's coming and how much pressure you'll be experiencing. Your nerve system and your brain know exactly every small bit of information needed to ruin the experience of your own hand brushing your arm...or your hair...or anywhere else you'd want to touch yourself. It just doesn't feel as good as when someone else is doing it.

And that... Perhaps that's what Percival Graves misses the most at this very moment.

It's been so long since he'd last been touched tenderly by someone else. Hell, Gellert Grindelwald doesn't even touch him at all. Not even for a painful beating or anything. The last things Graves could remember were just simple handshakes at work or the occasional pats on the shoulder. Graves had never been one of many physical contacts, but he's never felt like he needed more of them either. It always seemed just enough, until now...

Gellert Grindelwald liked keeping his boy in a cell somewhere in a place he didn't have too look at him that much. But only because he'd rather have his prisoner shut up than call for his attention everytime he appears on scene. Grindelwald wasn't one to treat his prisoners brutally, against popular beliefs. After all, he needed this one to cooperate so a decent treatment couldn't be that bad for his own benefits.

Every now and then, Grindelwald decides to take Percival Graves with him for the evening as he takes a seat by the fire, relaxing on his favourite suede chair. Graves wasn't allowed to join him, of course. There was only room for one of them to sit, so Gellert let him sit by his side, on the floor. Like a dog.

These evenings were never really eventful. Graves never talked back and Grindelwald only muttered about what he'd done with his prisoner's face that day. They had once had this conversation with a cup of tea and some biscuits, because Grindelwald had remembered that that day was Graves' birthday. Otherwise, the man on the carpet by the fire would get nothing more than just the company of a man he actually...really hates. But what else could he do then accept these offers and join Gellert by the fire like a pet dog. It's not like he had anywhere else to go and he couldn't exactly escape either. He'd tried once, but ever since, Grindelwald had put a spell on him. If Graves ever sets foot outside this building - wherever he may be, even - he'd end up in some really excruciating pain. That was the furthest Gellert Grindelwald had gone with him so far.

Graves sat by the chair, just like any other evening. Only, today he had accepted the offer of washing himself for the first time in nearly two weeks. After all, it didn't seem like much fun to keep him by your side when he smells like shit.

Grindelwald leaned back in the chair and hummed. His arms hung over the arm rests, the one on the left dangerously close to Graves' head. Percival had noticed, of course. But he didn't move, yet. He was having an inner debate with himself, where part of his mind wanted him to lean away from the hand while the other part of himself wanted to lean into those fingers, wanting to feel that touch. It'd be an innocent touch. A brief touch. It wouldn't mean much and Grindelwald probably wouldn't even question it.

Grindelwald only hummed when he felt something brush against his fingertips. He had his eyes closed and was on the verge of dozing off to a slumbering state between asleep and awake. For a moment, he really thought he had a dog by his side. Gellert reached out to feel a better touch of the soft hair that had brushed against his fingertips only moments ago. What he didn't seem to realize just yet was that he wasn't touching a dog, but his prisoner, Percival Graves, who tucked his head in between his shoulders under the hand.

How long it's been since he last had a haircut, Graves couldn't really tell, but it must've been quite a while. His hair had grown out, appearing a lot fuzzier than he could remember. It was long on the top of his head and had fallen into a split. Strands of hair often fell in front of his eyes when he woke up, or right now - while he was being petted. Where once used to be an undercut was now something soft, the start of growing hair, almost like the equivalent of beard fluff on your head. He'd never really had a closer look at it before, but Graves sort of knew it felt soft, and Grindelwald now seemed to know as well.

Percival finally found the guts to look up at the other and Gellert looked down. He removed his hand from Graves' head when he saw he wasn't petting a dog, but let it hover near the man's head. Maybe, he'll try it again. After all, he'd missed his prisoner's reaction to this simple, unexpected brief touch.

Once more, the hand came down and its fingers laced through long, black strands of soft and freshly washed hair. Graves didn't pull back this time, but sat still and eyed Grindelwald from underneat his hand. Gellert only watched him. Observing. It was a pleasant view from his side of the palm that carressed Graves' soft, long hair.

"You like it too much," Grindelwald then muttered to himself, removing his hand from Graves' head. The man on the floor cramped back together once the touch had ended, sinking back on his knees and diverting his gaze. He didn't really know how to feel about it. He shouldn't be feeling this conflicted about a stupid touch! It was not as innocent as it seemed, and he'd just given Grindelwald yet another weak spot to play with.

Graves hadn't expected it when Grindelwald touched him again. This time, the contact was more intense. Gellert tangled his fingers in the man's hair, fingertips brushing over Graves' scalp. Percival could feel too many spots on his body shivering for a reason he hadn't managed to explain just yet. He tried to ignore it and focused on the hand instead. His hair was being pulled very gently before Grindelwald let go again. He repeated the gesture and watched Graves, who seemingly relaxed in the contact.

To Percival, it felt like a scalp massage - one so intense his brain nearly defined it as erotic. And he hated it. It shouldn't be anything like this. Stupid. That's what this is. Stupid and frustrating! He wanted to express his frustrations, but that would be beneficient to Grindelwald's pleasure, so Graves couldn't. This guy doesn't exactly deserve to enjoy his prisoner in ways like these. If he could, Graves would definitely latch out at this guy and preferably even hurt him. However, Grindelwald was the one holding the strings. Graves was his puppet.

"Makes me wonder when the last time has been where someone touched you so tenderly, Percival." There was something in that voice that made Graves want to flip his own stomach. "Oh who would've expected Percival Graves to be such a pathetic little whimp when it comes to being touched?"

"I wouldn't mind you rotting in a ca-" A slap silenced Graves and his head shot to the side. A curtain of hair brushed in front of his hair. He didn't move and waited, taking his time to register the touch he'd just felt. Somehow, the tickling in his body had gotten worse and it felt all around terrible. "I dare you to finish that sentence, Percival," Gellert spoke. He used the same hand that had tenderly touched him only moments ago to grab a fistful of Graves' hair to jerk his head back towards him. Grindelwald had sat up on his chair, the atmosphere between them no longer peaceful, but rather one filled with tension.

Graves remained silent. He knew that he should not finish his sentence if he wanted to avoid another painful touch. He waited for Grindelwald to make his next move. It took him a while, but eventually he let go of his prisoner's hair and let the man sink back down to his spot on the floor. "Exactly," he muttered to himself.

-

On that day, Gellert Grindelwald discovered a weakness in Percival Graves. Since that day, this weakness was used against his prisoner. However, it did involve the touches Graves had missed so much, but it was never as frequent as he wanted it and it wasn't predictable either. It was almost as if Grindelwald knew exactly when he had to strike to meet Graves at his most vulnerable moments, and every time again he could bring his little pet prisoner back to cooperation. Perhaps, petting could be his new way of tormenting his puppet...

Percival Graves hates every single moment of all of this, especially himself. How could he be this weak, giving in to simple touches on the head almost the same way cats nestle under your hand when you run your hand down their head and back? How could he be so pathetic that a simple and easy touch anywhere on his body could be enough to coax him into letting Gellert Grindelwald use his face yet another time? How had he ever turned into such a miserable, pathetic excuse of an adult man? Where was the real Percival Graves, and not this dusty old cat?

--------------------

I hope this'll do (I actually forgot the original way I wanted to end this thing because I got terribly distracted... *sad emoji face*)

Re: FILL: Graves/Grindelwald- Petting, possible non/dubcon.

[(Anonymous)]

And now without all the friggin' typos...

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9149089