Graves sheds his coat. He is hanging it by the door when the twins Ella and Anna barrel down the hall to cling to his legs. Ella with her red hair and Anna with her dark locks, the perfect images of their parents. They both start to speak over each other, voice rising in competition for their father's attention. "What did we say about this, girls?" He says, going to on one knee to look them in the eye.
The girls pout, their pigtails bobbing but both say in chorus, "One at a time."
"Exactly." He smiles. Picking them both up, each girl in either arm, Graves kisses them in turn. "Now Ella, you were saying?" He listens to each daughter relay the events of their day. Graves is only half listening as he follows the smell of roast to the kitchen.
Newt is mashing potatoes with one hand at the kitchen sink, while he is feeding the baby with the other. Their youngest, Colm, is in his high chair with Pickett, cooing at the faces it makes as he spits out the pureed vegetable over it. Dark eyes twinkle when he leans down to press a smile to his baby's nose. "Hey." Graves greets, kissing Newt on the neck when he reaches him. The girls make noises of disgust which he silences with more kisses to their chubby cheeks. Putting them down, he tells them to take their brother and go to their room and play.
"Dinner is almost ready." Newt says, amused as he turns to watch their children run off with the Bowtruckle perched on the baby's head. "You always undo all the work I put into making them our obedient little trolls." Graves chuckles, wrapping an arm around the swell of his midsection. Running his hands in idle circles, he buries his nose into the curve of Newt's nape. From his position, he can look down the front of Newt's robes, watching his small breasts jiggle as he continues to work on the mash.
"And you do such amazing work with them." Graves hums, pulling Newt closer against him. Holding him tight, Graves begins to roll his hips into the curve of Newt's ass. "I've missed you."
"You're insatiable, that's what you are." Newt says in a sigh, flicking his wand to set the table. "Can't it wait for after the children are in bed?"
Graves makes a soft whine, rubbing his stubble against the soft skin of Newt's neck. His husband laughs, abandoning the mash and reaching behind him to cup his cheek. "All right, all right... Merlin's beard, I sometimes think you're worse than the children combined."
"Only because you are weak against my charms." Graves murmurs. Reaching down, he lifts the hem of the robe teasing the flesh of Newt's ass, squeezing and revelling in the feeling of his body shifting and changing to carry another fruit of his seed to term. Going to his knees, he spreads Newt, leaning in to taste him. Newt shakes, and he hears his soft mewls when he spears him with his tongue. Graves chases Newt's musk, the tang of their bath soap on his skin. He is drooling, making a mess of their kitchen floor but he can't care. Not when he feels his world righting at the taste of Newt in his mouth.
"Fuck me. I-I need you to fuck me." Newt tangles his hand in his hair, pulling. "I need you..."
Graves reluctantly pulls away. If he were up to him, he would happily stay on his knees and eat his pregnant husband out for hours and days. But Newt's pleasure is just as important, if not more, than his own. So, he climbs to his feet, limbs creaking as he goes. With one hand, he frees his erection from his pants, with the other he nudges Newt to present himself. Graves knows he won't last, so strung up as he is. "So greedy. You're already heavy with my seed and yet you still seek for more." He laughs, rubbing the head of his cock over his hole, slipping it in. "So perfect. Just for me."
"Yours." Newt gasps, pushing himself away from the sink's edge.
"Yes." Graves growls, burying himself to the hilt in one wet and smooth movement. "Mine. All mine."
As much as he wants to hear Newt's voice, he knows that they need to be quiet. Feeding Newt two of his fingers to suck on, pressing down on the soft musckle of his tongue. Graves does not hesitate before pistoning his hips, banging their knees against the sink cabinet in an uneven rhythm. It's that sweet pain of being too much. Graves has thought of little else all day, and he has not doubt that the experience of sex for Newt these days is heightened by the pregnancy hormones coursing through his veins like wildfire. Sneaking a hand around Newt's erection, he takes it, pumps it. With his fingers still in Newt's mouth, Graves tilts his head, moulding his mouth over him. Swallowing the sounds he makes, he feels Newt tense around him, lips going slack and breath stuttering as slick wets his hand.
The sensation of Newt coming has him unravelling too. Graves fills him, sure that if Newt isn't already heavy with child, he would be after this. "Newt." His name tripping brokenly from his lips. Graves sinks himself into their kiss, humming as he feeds Newt the taste of himself. It is bliss. This is home.
"Go get cleaned up." Newt sighs, wincing when Graves pulls out when they are halfway down from their high. Graves tucks himself back in, straightening the back of Newt's robe even as he catches the overspill running rivulets down the insides of Newt's pale thighs. "Dinner will be served when you are done with your shower."
He goes back to waving his wand, bringing out the food for the table. Graves smiles, moving both his hands to squeeze at Newt's breasts before Newt can move further away. They fit his palm perfectly. After three pregnancies, they never shrink even when he isn't carrying. Soon they'll be leaking milk. And Graves will be there to share it with his child.
Fill: Graves/Newt, Newt is a housewife TW: Mpreg
Graves sheds his coat. He is hanging it by the door when the twins Ella and Anna barrel down the hall to cling to his legs. Ella with her red hair and Anna with her dark locks, the perfect images of their parents. They both start to speak over each other, voice rising in competition for their father's attention. "What did we say about this, girls?" He says, going to on one knee to look them in the eye.
The girls pout, their pigtails bobbing but both say in chorus, "One at a time."
"Exactly." He smiles. Picking them both up, each girl in either arm, Graves kisses them in turn. "Now Ella, you were saying?" He listens to each daughter relay the events of their day. Graves is only half listening as he follows the smell of roast to the kitchen.
Newt is mashing potatoes with one hand at the kitchen sink, while he is feeding the baby with the other. Their youngest, Colm, is in his high chair with Pickett, cooing at the faces it makes as he spits out the pureed vegetable over it. Dark eyes twinkle when he leans down to press a smile to his baby's nose. "Hey." Graves greets, kissing Newt on the neck when he reaches him. The girls make noises of disgust which he silences with more kisses to their chubby cheeks. Putting them down, he tells them to take their brother and go to their room and play.
"Dinner is almost ready." Newt says, amused as he turns to watch their children run off with the Bowtruckle perched on the baby's head. "You always undo all the work I put into making them our obedient little trolls." Graves chuckles, wrapping an arm around the swell of his midsection. Running his hands in idle circles, he buries his nose into the curve of Newt's nape. From his position, he can look down the front of Newt's robes, watching his small breasts jiggle as he continues to work on the mash.
"And you do such amazing work with them." Graves hums, pulling Newt closer against him. Holding him tight, Graves begins to roll his hips into the curve of Newt's ass. "I've missed you."
"You're insatiable, that's what you are." Newt says in a sigh, flicking his wand to set the table. "Can't it wait for after the children are in bed?"
Graves makes a soft whine, rubbing his stubble against the soft skin of Newt's neck. His husband laughs, abandoning the mash and reaching behind him to cup his cheek. "All right, all right... Merlin's beard, I sometimes think you're worse than the children combined."
"Only because you are weak against my charms." Graves murmurs. Reaching down, he lifts the hem of the robe teasing the flesh of Newt's ass, squeezing and revelling in the feeling of his body shifting and changing to carry another fruit of his seed to term. Going to his knees, he spreads Newt, leaning in to taste him. Newt shakes, and he hears his soft mewls when he spears him with his tongue. Graves chases Newt's musk, the tang of their bath soap on his skin. He is drooling, making a mess of their kitchen floor but he can't care. Not when he feels his world righting at the taste of Newt in his mouth.
"Fuck me. I-I need you to fuck me." Newt tangles his hand in his hair, pulling. "I need you..."
Graves reluctantly pulls away. If he were up to him, he would happily stay on his knees and eat his pregnant husband out for hours and days. But Newt's pleasure is just as important, if not more, than his own. So, he climbs to his feet, limbs creaking as he goes. With one hand, he frees his erection from his pants, with the other he nudges Newt to present himself. Graves knows he won't last, so strung up as he is. "So greedy. You're already heavy with my seed and yet you still seek for more." He laughs, rubbing the head of his cock over his hole, slipping it in. "So perfect. Just for me."
"Yours." Newt gasps, pushing himself away from the sink's edge.
"Yes." Graves growls, burying himself to the hilt in one wet and smooth movement. "Mine. All mine."
As much as he wants to hear Newt's voice, he knows that they need to be quiet. Feeding Newt two of his fingers to suck on, pressing down on the soft musckle of his tongue. Graves does not hesitate before pistoning his hips, banging their knees against the sink cabinet in an uneven rhythm. It's that sweet pain of being too much. Graves has thought of little else all day, and he has not doubt that the experience of sex for Newt these days is heightened by the pregnancy hormones coursing through his veins like wildfire. Sneaking a hand around Newt's erection, he takes it, pumps it. With his fingers still in Newt's mouth, Graves tilts his head, moulding his mouth over him. Swallowing the sounds he makes, he feels Newt tense around him, lips going slack and breath stuttering as slick wets his hand.
The sensation of Newt coming has him unravelling too. Graves fills him, sure that if Newt isn't already heavy with child, he would be after this. "Newt." His name tripping brokenly from his lips. Graves sinks himself into their kiss, humming as he feeds Newt the taste of himself. It is bliss. This is home.
"Go get cleaned up." Newt sighs, wincing when Graves pulls out when they are halfway down from their high. Graves tucks himself back in, straightening the back of Newt's robe even as he catches the overspill running rivulets down the insides of Newt's pale thighs. "Dinner will be served when you are done with your shower."
He goes back to waving his wand, bringing out the food for the table. Graves smiles, moving both his hands to squeeze at Newt's breasts before Newt can move further away. They fit his palm perfectly. After three pregnancies, they never shrink even when he isn't carrying. Soon they'll be leaking milk. And Graves will be there to share it with his child.