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fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme) wrote2016-12-25 04:42 pm
fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme) wrote2016-12-25 04:42 pm
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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.
ANNOUNCEMENTS:
-(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.
-Due to popular demand, we now have our first couple of rules!
RULE #1: No prompt must exceed 250 words. Any prompt that exceeds that WILL be screened.
RULE #2: Please state RPF in the subject line if your prompt involves real people.
RULE #3: No kinkshaming.
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If you have free time to do one or the other, go ahead and e-mail us at fantasticbeastskink@gmail.com.
Thank you to those who have already volunteered, and have a nice day.
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[Fill Pt. 7] Nectar
(Anonymous) 2017-01-08 04:15 am (UTC)(link)Hesitantly, Credence shifted closer to Graves until his knees were bumping up against Graves’s bared side. With fingers curled tight in his trousers, he leaned close enough that he thought Graves might be able to hear his soft whisper.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t want to hurt you or—or take advantage. I just…I have to do this. Or Grindelwald will…”
He trailed off, not quite certain what Grindelwald would do. He was sure that it would be awful, though.
“Anyway, I’ll do my best not to hurt you.”
He watched Graves’s face for any sign of a reaction but saw none. He supposed it was for the best. If Graves was asleep then Credence needn’t worry about him feeling any untoward reactions Credence might have. Still, just in case Credence pushed his hands between his legs, hissing softly as he pinched the tip of his penis.
With deep, measured breaths Credence leaned down and pressed his lips to Graves’s chest. It was an awkward angle and sucking was somewhat difficult when he was hovering over top of Graves, but he was determined to let their skin touch as little as possible. This way, it was only his nose and mouth brushing against Graves’s tantalizingly soft skin. Credence pinched himself harder when his mind began to wander to thoughts of rubbing his hands up and down Grave’s body, letting his fingers trail down toward the buttons of Graves’s trousers, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He whimpered under the pain but didn’t ease up; the pain would keep him focused, keep him clean.
Or at least as clean as he could be after all the sins he had already committed.
Although instinct told him to suck as hard and quickly as he could to get the ordeal over with fast, Credence could still remember the pained noises Graves had made the last time. He couldn’t do that to the man again, so he pressed his mouth more gently to his chest, using careful pressure and light tugs with his lips to suck the milk into his mouth. He shivered at the first gush onto his tongue but managed to swallow it down.
Soon, he was lost to the rhythm of it. Suck, swallow, lick to try and soothe the ache. Over and over again until one side only gave weak dribbles. Then he moved to the next, murmuring soft “I’m sorries” as his lips skimmed from one side of Grave’s chest to the other. He kept his fingers gripped firmly around his penis the whole time and very carefully did not let himself think about doing this awake with Graves’s arms cradling him close.
Finally, the milk was drained. Credence sat up and wiped at his mouth, cringing when he saw how red and tender Graves’s nipples looked despite his best efforts not to hurt him. He cast about and was relieved to see a small bathroom attached to the room. His legs were clumsy, shaking with nerves, as he clambered to his feet and hurried toward the sink.
He knew the cool, damp washcloth he retrieved would do little for Graves, but it was the only comfort Credence could offer. Sitting cross-legged on the bed next to Graves, Credence stroked the cloth over Graves’s chest in slow, light touches. He let it sit on each of Graves’s nipples for a longer moment, hoping it would leach some of the redness and pain away.
He was so focused on his task that he didn’t notice Graves’s head lolling on the pillow, not until Graves gave a soft moan and cracked his eyes open. Credence jerked back, dropping the cloth with a wet plop.
“Who’re you?” Graves asked. His voice was barely even a mumble, the words slurred under the influence of whatever drug Grindelwald had given him. His eyes were hazy and drooping, clouded with disorientation.
“C-Credence. I’m…I’m sorry, Mr. Graves. Grindelwald, he—“
Credence twisted his fingers into his trousers once more and dropped his gaze. He couldn’t bear to look at Graves. Not with Graves’s eyes staring right back at him.
“Fucking Grindelwald,” Graves mumbled. His eyes slipped closed, and for a moment Credence thought perhaps he had fallen back asleep. “S’alright. Do what you have to.”
Credence blushed and hoped that Graves didn’t remember what he had already been made to do. He quickly wiped the rest of his spit off Graves’s chest then scrambled to return the cloth to the bathroom. He rinsed it out for longer than absolutely necessary so the running tap would hide the ragged gasps of his breath. He hoped that by the time he returned Graves would be asleep once more and he could slip out of the room without further incident.
He had no such luck.
Once he managed to wring out the cloth and work up the courage to sidle back out of the bathroom, Graves was watching him more intently than ever.
“I hate to ask, but is there any Vaseline in there?”
Swallowing away the anxious lump in his throat, Credence hunched his shoulders and mumbled, “I can check.”
He was almost upset when he saw that there was a pot of it tucked away in the medicine cabinet. He already suspected what Graves wanted him to do, and he very much did not want to do it. All he really wanted was to be allowed to hide in his room and practice spells that wouldn’t end in destruction. Still, he shuffled back out with the little pot cradled in his hands.
“Please, could you--?”
Somehow, the flush in Graves’s cheeks made Credence feel slightly better about the whole situation. Of course he would have preferred to not be doing this at all, but at least Graves felt as discomforted by it as he did. At least he wasn’t the only one fumbling for words and feeling wrong-footed.
Credence slowly sat back down on the edge of the bed and popped the cap off the Vaseline. His fingers were shaking as he scooped a small glob onto them, and the trembling only got worse when he reached to rub them over Graves’s chest.
He nearly dropped the pot on the floor when Graves gave a moan that could only be described as indecent.
“Sorry,” Graves said quickly.
It was wholly unfair that Credence was the one whose ears were burning red. The circling of his fingers around Grave’s cracked nipples suddenly felt lewd. Filthy. Wrong. He swiped a smear of Vaseline onto each one as quickly as he could, then capped the pot and dropped it onto the table next to the bed.
“Goodbye, Mr. Graves,” he said, then all but ran out of the room, not caring if the door slammed shut behind him.
Re: [Fill Pt. 7] Nectar
(Anonymous) 2017-01-08 05:29 am (UTC)(link)