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fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme) wrote2016-11-23 07:27 am
fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme) wrote2016-11-23 07:27 am
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Prompt Post #1
ROUND 1
FUCK IT WE'LL FIGURE OUT SPECIFICS LATER
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Graves/Grindelwald- Dream a Little Dream of Me, angst, noncon, masturbation
(Anonymous) 2016-12-04 07:28 am (UTC)(link)Re: Graves/Grindelwald- Dream a Little Dream of Me, angst, noncon, masturbation
(Anonymous) 2016-12-07 03:24 am (UTC)(link)FILL: Dream a Little Dream of Me
(Anonymous) 2017-01-14 12:05 am (UTC)(link)--------------------------------------------------
"No... Stop... N-No!"
"God, you're noisy."
The second voice was more of a rough hiss than the first, which was a desperate cry of panic and fear.
The elder male, hair nearly as white as snow, towered above the other - a man only a bit taller than him, but younger, even though he, too, was turning grey on the head. He rose a hand, removing it from the other's forehead to cover his mouth. The other hand held the man by his hip, keeping him down underneath him as the elder had his way with him.
His hands were tied to the wood of the bed with heavy shackles that rung each time he grunted when he took in his captor's full, greedy length. He hadn't agreed on this. He had never given his consent for any of this. This guy, this Gellert Grindelwald...he just did what he wanted to do.
It took only a soft whisper - a terrifying "Silencio" - in between breaths for Grindelwald to mute his prisoner before he moved his hand back to the man's forehead, continuing his vile act.
He remembers screaming, but only for himself. Grindelwald couldn't hear it. He only laughed through his animalistic growl when he reached his climax.
However, he doesn't remember waking up screaming, covered in his own sweat and in his very own large bed at the place he could call home.
This was a nightmare. One of many Percival Graves had been dealing with ever since his return back home. He doesn't exactly remember for himself how long he's been held captive, but the length of his hair and the way his body looked in a large, full-body mirror could only make him guess even more. Ever since his return, Percival Graves had grown to hate everything about himself.
He sat up on his bed, one hand offering support by his side while the other went up to brush through his long, dark hair. It had grown out weeks ago, the grey coming along on his temples. He'd also earned the fluff that came after a stubble, something that would be a beard if he doesn't consider a shave anytime soon. Once finished, Percival let the hand trail down his chest briefly. He wasn't exactly aware of the gesture, something that felt like a check-up on whether he'd gained some weight already or not, rather than anything else.
At some point, the hand reached his lap, and it was then when Percival felt his heart jump in his throat. His eyes widened slightly, but also watered up a bit. This couldn't be true.
Graves brushed his hand down on the bulge he could feel underneath his hand and narrowed his eyes with a small sound of disgust when he had confirmed for himself that this was real.
Arousal.
He didn't want to do this. Percival knew there were many ways of getting rid of it, but many of those felt impure. Sins.
Perhaps, it didn't matter anymore. He's been violated at least four times during his stay with Gellert Grindelwald. His cleanliness - prudery, according to many - had been destroyed, dirtied. It no longer existed. It had been taken from him, just like his self-respect, confidence and anything else that was typical to the Auror. He was no longer himself, no longer Percival Graves.
So, would it matter, if he sins a little more?
He let himself fall back on the bed, head landing on the pillow and he sighed briefly. He brought up a hand to trail his thumb and index finger over his eyebrows to finish with a brief pinch of the bridge of his nose. Percival then rolled onto his side and pulled the covers over his slender, ill-looking body closely. He can sleep this off, right? There's no need to commit another act of impurity now that he had the choice.
It didn't leave. In fact, it only got worse. Percival couldn't get his thoughts away from it and how it was a result of a nightmare where he'd been molested, scarred for the rest of his days. It was the first time of four. Gellert Grindelwald had mocked him for it when Graves begged to not involve him in any sexual acts of violence. He'd cried in front of his captor, repeatedly whimpering about his personal beliefs that sexual intercourse is something you should only participate in once married.
But Gellert Grindelwald didn't care.
The arousal wouldn't leave. It began to hurt, as if it were screaming for Percival's attention. He had to give in. Once again, Gellert Grindelwald seemed to have gotten the better of him when Percival Graves rolled onto his back with a groan that exclaimed annoyance. He brushed the sheets off his body, a cold feeling brushing through the bathrobe and the flannel pyjamas he was wearing underneath. Ever since his return, he'd grown vulnerable to many things with his body so thin he could still feel his ribs peeking through after a full and copious meal.
Percival rose up a hand, eyeing it in the darkness of his room. He won't turn on the light for this. It would be too confronting. His wrist looked so thin, bones sticking out more than they should. It brought sadness upon him, his thick brows curling into the same emotion.
He unbuttoned the bathrobe he'd wrapped around his cold body before crawling in the bed a few hours ago, letting it stay underneath him while he diverted his eyes far away from his bottom half. Graves tilted his hips a little to brush his pyjama trousers just low enough to give him access to his problem. He remained looking upwards, seeing the blurred outline of his own brows and the darkened outline of the headboard of his bed right behind him. There was nothing about Percival Graves that wanted to witness this impure act of self-pleasuring.
His mouth fell open when Percival's fingers brushed against his own length. It felt so sensitive, he wasn't used to it. Something in the back of his head almost seemed to be scared to continue, but it wasn't strong enough yet to stop him. His breath gave a brief hitch when Percival now wrapped his full palm around the arousal. He kept it there, still. He wanted to get used to the feeling before he'd continue.
Everything about this act so far felt so wrong to Percival. Even his thoughts. He was still thinking about how a nightmare about his abuser - a man who had violated his body more often than he possibly had counted - had caused him to end up aroused in the middle of the night. Percival Graves not only hated Gellert Grindelwald for it, but also himself. He, the Director of Aurors at MACUSA, a supposed-to-be powerful man... He'd let a man with the looks of a dead, bleached rat have his sickest fun with his body, his mind and his identity.
Perhaps, he wasn't as strong as he believed. He wasn't as self-conscious as he'd thought, or as respectful towards his own body like he'd wanted it. If that had been the case, he'd tried a better job at defending himself. But this was powerful wizard versus powerful wizard in a position of disadvantage. Percival would've lost anyway and perhaps, if he'd put up a real fight, things could've just gotten worse for him. Perhaps, what he'd been through was just a best case scenario...
As his climax came closer, Percival felt worse and worse. He reached the point where tears were threatening to roll down his stubbled, fluffed face when the discomfort of an unwanted arousal was at its highest. The sensation that came immediately after was as unpleasant as the whole situation and Percival exclaimed a weak cry of discomfort when he shuddered in his own touch, Gellert Grindelwald's words ringing clearly in his mind.
"I want you to dream a little dream of me, Percival."
-
The Auror looked seemingly terrible the next day. He hadn't went back to sleep after his incident, too afraid of his own mind and the hidden nightmares that wandered in his subconscious. It was a terrible timing, as today was supposed to be his first attempt at a return at MACUSA. Not to work, but to stand trial and witness in his own favor. Old demons were about to be dug up in front of a board of higher-ups, people he never really liked with his full heart.
He'd rather stayed at home, but Tina Goldstein had already come over to his home even before he could tell anyone a small lie to get another day free from sharing his traumatic experiences with his colleagues. Even after nearly a month, Percival still felt like he couldn't do this. Hell, he felt like he will never be able to do this. He hated it, because none of this is who he once used to be. Percival would probably offer his beloved, warm and protective coat if it meant he could be independent, strong and just his old self again instead of this pathetic excuse of a wizard, a failure.
"Are you ready, Mister Graves?" Tina Goldstein asked, pulling out her wand. There was no way for Percival to make it to the building in one piece by walking. His legs were bony and weak, shaking already after taking the stairs in his own home.
"I'm glad my father passed away years ago," Percival Graves simply replied with a failed sense of humor he never really managed to master, knowing that his father - one of the wizarding world's most respected Aurors - would be deeply ashamed of the son he had tried to shape after his own personal beliefs.
Tina didn't answer. She only completed her task, taking Percival one step closer to a nightmare he won't be able to escape from.