fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme | Prompt Post #1

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Prompt Post #1

ROUND 1

FUCK IT WE'LL FIGURE OUT SPECIFICS LATER

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One day, Graves comes home to a package waiting at his apartment door. He opens it without thinking and finds... a dildo. Super awkward, right? Even more awkward is that when he checks the box, it's addressed to his neighbor. Double super awkward. He hastily retapes the box and just launches it at his neighbor's door.

Crisis motherfucking averted.

Except now he's imagining his neighbor -- sweet, freckled, curly haired Newt, who stutters and can't maintain eye contact, who is brutally shy but also viciously clever -- fucking himself with the dildo. And it's an image he can't quite get over. He's imagining blushing and gasping and whining and possibly crying. And he wants to know if the real thing comes anywhere close to his fantasies.

(I kind of imagine that the dildo was a joke gift from Queenie -- Tina doesn't strike me as the type -- but if anon has a better idea/plot device, I'm good with it.)

I NEED THIS TO HAPPEn

What if it's not even a dildo? Like, Graves thought it was, but he was so startled that he didn't really look closely, and it turns out it's just a specialty perch for one of Newt's parrots who has arthritic feet. (they do exist, and they do look a lot like dildos) But Graves confronts him and Newt is just... super confused and... Kinda interested? Yeah. I'm not the OP, so if this is totally in the wrong direction, forget about it, I just thought it would be extra funny.

(OP)
I'm okay with that! As long as they end up together (possibly with a toy or two in the middle), I'm good. I'm basically looking for misunderstanding, fixating, and fantasizing.

holy hell i love this

It was a long day at the end of a hard day and all Graves is thinking about is getting home, pouring a stiff drink and relaxing on his couch. He leans against the wall as he rides up to his floor, eyes sliding shut for a moment as he feels the slightly unsteady pull off the elevator. He lets out a relieved sigh when the doors slide open and he trudges into his hall. He isn't paying much attention and nearly misses the small brown package at his door. Without thinking much of it, he scoops up the box and heads inside.

He sets the package on the table near the door before hanging up his coat and heading straight to the kitchen for a drink.

He is leaning against the kitchen counter, taking a deep drink of a rich whiskey before his eyes fall once again on the package. He pushes away from the counter, sauntering back toward the table to snatch up the package. He slits the tape with his pocket knife, not bothering to inspect the postage before tearing it open.

Well.

Huh.

This must be a mistake, Graves thinks absently as he stares at the contents of the package. It holds another, slightly smaller box emblazoned with bright lettering and a rather revealing graphic. Graves blinks down at the rather nice looking dildo, thoroughly confused. He flips the box closed, finally looking at the address.

Newt Scamander. Apt. 26.

Oh. Oh, shit.

Graves drops the box onto the table, glaring at it. He just accidentally opened his neighbor's dildo. His gorgeous, awkward, nuisance of a neighbor who is constantly sneaking stray animals into the apartment despite the strict lease. Newt, with his freckles and his little half smile, who can barely meet anyone's eyes. Newt Scamander's dildo.

“Fuck,” Graves says quietly because fuck. This is not good.

Percival has asked Newt out twice at this point, both attempt going right over the other man's head. It would be kind of adorable if it wasn't so damn frustrating. And now he has opened a package containing his sex toy. Graves needs another drink.

He peeks back into the box, humming thoughtfully as he takes in the general size and shape of the dildo through the clear plastic window on the box.

“Fuck,” he says again. What the hell is he going to do? He could get rid of it, simply pretend he never opened it. Lord knows Newt would never ask about it. Then again, it is a rather nice looking toy. It would be a shame if Mr. Scamander didn't receive his package... “Oh, hell,” Graves curses quietly before rummaging through his junk drawer for a roll of packaging tape.

Several minutes later, he inspects his work. It seems good enough. Passable, if you aren't paying much attention. Newt is perpetually distracted so maybe he won't notice his package has already been open. Graves cracks open his door, peering out into the hall before quickly sliding the package across to Newt's. He flies back into his apartment, shutting the door and locking it before walking briskly back to the kitchen. There. That's done with.

As Percival is pouring himself another drink, he is definitely not thinking about a naked, panting Newt slowly sinking down onto the toy. That would just be ridiculous.

When Newt comes home that night, it is with a small, needy puppy in his hands. Newt doesn't think much of the package as he struggles to unlock his door without setting the dog down. Distracted, Newt pushes the package into his apartment with one foot while he tries to keep the small dog calm. As quiet and unassuming as he is trying to be, he knows he is making enough noise for at least half the floor to hear. He has managed to convince, or bribe, most of the people on his floor not to bother him about, or report, the constant animal noises.

Newt forgets about the package for a while as he tries to get the little white dog settled in. Animals are constantly coming and going through his apartment as he tries to find them permanent homes. He can never resist a helpless stray or lost pet. Once the dog calmed down and fell asleep on Newt's pillow, he remembers the package.

To his surprise, it is from Queenie. He wasn't expecting anything from her and she hasn't mentioned anything to him. But surprises tend to be her specialty. Newt hums curiously and he opens the box, not sure what it could possibly be.

His eyes go comically wide as he stares down at the dildo, completely caught off guard.

Cautiously, he pulls out the encased sex toy, eying it suspiciously. At the bottom of the box is a folded note from Queenie. He sets the toy aside and pulls out the note.

Hello Sweetie!

Remember our conversation the other week? I know you were terribly embarrassed by the whole thing and I am sure you are beet red right now. Now, you do whatever you what but I suggest you at least give it a try.

Love and kisses,

Queenie.

Newt sputters, indeed bright red. Newt tucks the toy back into the plain brown box and shuts the lid, embarrassed by the sight of it. He doesn't quite know what to do with it so for now, he just leaves it where it is.

I'm dying from laughter over here lol

Seriously, this is fucking gold!

Newt is adorably sweet, and Percival's reaction is perf!

(OP)
Yaaaaaaaaaaas.
Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaas.
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSS.

This is amazing. I love it. Truly and deeply! (hahahaha omg i'm terrible.) It's so funny and in character and I am just overcome. I wasn't expecting a fill for this oddball prompt, so thank you. It's everything I could have ever wanted -- Newt's awkwardness, Percival's awkwardness, the cleverness, the humor -- it's utterly divine. Thank you so, so much. I cannot wait to read more.

Oh god, Percy is such a ~~loser~~ treasure. Loving this!!!

Later that night, after a few more drinks and a short shower, Percival is lying in bed. His thoughts turn back to Newt, as much as he is trying to avoid that subject. He can't help but imagine what he would look like, naked and flushed all over while Graves works him open slowly. He's pretty sure Newt would be loud, but probably embarrassed by needy sounds he'd definitely be making. He can imagine Newt, knees nearly pressed to his chest as Graves work the toy into him, hiding his face in the crook his elbow as he cries out for more. Percival groans loudly, covering his face with his hand as he takes a deep breath.

Oh, hell. No one has to know what he masturbates to in the middle of the night.

“Oh, hello Percival,” Newt greets a couple days later as they come out of their apartments at the same time. He smiles brightly, eyes lifting briefly to his face before dropping away shyly.

“Good morning, Newt,” Graves returns his smile. “How have you been?”Graves asks as they walk together toward the elevator.

“Oh, the same as always,” Newt answers with a shrug. “Have you been well?”

“As well as to be expected,” Graves tells him.

Newt flashes him a small smile, cheeks faintly pink. They are alone in the elevator and Graves is wondering if Newt would realize his interest if he pushed him up against the wall and kissed him senseless. “So,” he starts instead, pushing the inappropriate thoughts from his mind, “how many animals are you hiding in your apartment right now?”

Newt flushes at that, glancing up with wide, worried eyes. “Have they been much of a bother? I know Beatrice can get a bit yappy, but I think we are making great progress on -”

“No, no. It's not a bother to me at all, Newt,” Graves assures gently. “I was just curious.” Newt relaxes at that, smile brightening.

“Oh! Well, that's good,” Newt grins. “Six, right now. But I think I found a home for Ardice...” Newt trails off as the elevator reaches the lobby. “Well, have a very good day, Percival.”

“You too, Newt.” Graves definitely doesn't check out Newt's ass he walks away.

“Good morning, Sweetie!” Queenie greets when Newt drops into the bakery on his way to work. “Having a good morning?” Her grin widens when she notices his faint blush. “Did you get my present?”

Newt turns bright red at the question, trying to shoot her a glare and failing spectacularly. She giggles happily, clapping her hands together. “Oh, good. Do you like it?” She asks this as though she gave him a sweater.

“I- Well, I-,” Newt stammers. He clears his throat, trying to ignore his burning cheeks. “I haven't used it.”

“Used what?” Jacob asks as he comes out of the back room with a tray of warm pastries. “Mornin' Newt,” he adds.

Queenie waves the question off. “Oh, never mind.”

Jacob drops it and Newt is incredibly thankful for it. He sends Queenie a long suffering look and she leans over the counter to ruffle his hair, expression almost apologetic.

It is Newt's own fault for saying anything, especially to Queenie who never leaves well enough along when she sees the opportunity to help. Although, Newt hardly sees how that gift is particularly helpful but he can tell Queenie seems to think so. He really didn't mean to say anything, but he was a little tipsy at Jacob's birthday the other week and Queenie is particularly good at getting embarrassing information out of others. It's not as though Newt hasn't been with people, well, two anyway, but still. He isn't completely inexperienced. Just, almost completely.

His inexperience isn't unknown among his close friends but he accidentally let slip his desire, which is even more embarrassing. Luckily, only Queenie was present for his confession. Although, Tina and Jacob would have just pretended they never heard Newt say he wished he could find someone to pin him down and take him roughly before very quickly changing the subject. Queenie, on the other hand, extolled the virtues of exploring ones sexuality and desires even in the absence of a partner. She told Newt he might be more comfortable voicing his needs to future partners if he was more used to acting out his fantasies on his own. Newt, more than a little embarrassed by the path the conversation took, just nodded helplessly and took another sip of his drink.

A week later, she sent him a dildo. Which is mortifying except Queenie acts as though it's the most normal thing in the world. Newt can hardly argue with her and her earnest desire to see him happy. And she does know a lot more about these types of things than Newt does. Still, he's not sure he'll actually be able to use the thing.

As he leaves the bakery, he is thinking of Percival. He hasn't failed to notice that Percival is a handsome and imposing man. He has heard some of the other neighbors call him rude and distant, though he is always very friendly and welcoming with Newt. And he asked after his animals. He's pretty sure he's seen Percival looking at him with thinly veiled lust but that hardly seems possible. Percival is composed, confident and handsome. Newt has no doubt he has experience in the arena of sex and romance. Newt imagines that Percival would be patient with him, walk him through everything slowly. He blushes at these thoughts, trying to shake them off as he walks to the animal shelter.

(Authors Note: Newt works at an Animal Shelter and is constantly bringing his work home with him, because of course he is.)

Queenie and her quest to help Newt get laid. She -would- be totally unembarrassed about it!

Anon, you made my boring day at work a lot better :D I loved the idea of Newt buying a dildo for himself, but I still like how it was Queenie's idea. She would totally do something like that :D And now poor Percival is haunted by thoughts of Newt pleasuring himself while Newt wants Percival to notice him. Ah ~~ Isn't double pining great? I can't wait to read another part!

Newt stands in his living room, holding the toy from Queenie and looking it over suspiciously. He still hasn't taken it fully out of it's box, not quite able to bring himself to hold the actual toy. It is a deep purple vibrator. There is even a small bottle of lube included. Newt blushes deeply, hands trembling slightly as he sets it back down on the coffee table, eying it carefully. Using it just seems so...illicit. Masturbating has always been a rare affair for Newt, usually happening late at night, under the covers, with all the lights off. He knows it isn't a shameful activity but it's always felt a bit embarrassing. And this... It just seems like a whole ordeal.

He turns a very dark shade of pink as he imagines stripping completely naked and stretching out on his bed. He would need to be uncovered with the lights on, at least the first time. He's never touched that particular area before, not with this intent. Newt gulps, glancing away from where he's set the toy. He's thought about it, that's for sure. More and more lately, not that he likes to admit it. Though he still can't bring himself to do anything alone. Queenie is undoubtedly right about needing to be more comfortable with his desires but...

Newt shakes his head, turning away from the toy. He'll take Bernard and Beatrice on a walk. That will clear his mind.

~~

Percival is trudging home after another long day, the tension from the past few days clear in the way he holds his shoulders. It has been so long since he's had a consistent, healthy way of unwinding after several long days of stress. After a certain point, long trips to the gym and very hot showers lose their weight. A stiff drink is always a warm welcome, which is more of a problem than solution. He tends to avoid bars and clubs, being all to familiar with their dark sides. He has all to easily fallen into the pattern of work, drink, sleep, and work again.

He's no fool, he knows exactly what he is missing. It's been months since he's gotten laid and much longer since he's had anything resembling a real relationship. The dry spell is getting tiring but he has been longing for something more than sex recently. With this in mind, his thoughts traitorously turn toward Newt.

He has no business thinking about the other man the way he has been. Newt would undoubtedly be a pleasure to take to bed, something Percival has given serious consideration, though that isn't all he wants to share with him. This line of thinking isn't doing his mood any good. He's started to get discouraged about the whole thing lately, unsure how to proceed. This isn't a usual problem for Percival. When he wants to pursue someone, he does. But something about Newt disarms him, puts him completely off his game. Which is ridiculous, because the man is a walking ball of nervous energy and enthusiasm. There is no reason for Percival to feel strangely intimidated by him. And yet...

Percival rounds the corner a couple blocks from his apartment and runs directly into Newt. They collide together while the dogs bark excitedly, Newt letting out a startled noise as he nearly loses his balance. Percival steadies him with an arm around his waist, inadvertently pulling him closer. Well. Percival lets out a small huff, pulling his arm back and stepping away just a bit. Of course he would run into Newt right now, with his head fully of ridiculous thoughts.

“Oh! I'm so sorry,” Newt immediately starts, flushing a lovely shade of pink. He reaches out, brushing the front of Percival's jacket as though he's messed it up somehow. On anyone else, the move would seem coy and flirtatious, maybe even practiced, but on Newt it seems innocent and natural. “I-”

Percival shakes his head, unable to hold back a smile. He can't bring himself to be remotely annoyed with this situation. “No, no,” He assures. “I wasn't paying attention. I apologize.”

“I'm pretty sure it was my fault,” Newt insists.

“I suppose we'll just have to both accept responsibility,” Percival tells him, tone light. “Although, running into you, even literally, is no hardship,” he flirts. There is no shame in trying, after all.

“Oh?” Newt asks with a soft chuckle, eyes darting down as his blush deepens

“I suppose,” Percival continues, “If you are feeling particularly remorseful about it, you could always make it up to me with a drink.”

“I – do you mean, a-”

“A date,” Percival finishes, taking mercy on him. Newt looks at him with wide, surprised eyes, seeming as though he can't quite believe him.

“You want to go on a date with me?” Newt asks.

“Yes, Newt. Very much. This isn't the first time I've asked you, you know,” He teases gently. He might as well be honest about it.

Newt looks completely floored by that. “Really? Oh. I didn't... Why do I never realize when that happens?” He asks mostly to himself, eyes darting down again. “I would very much like to go out with you,” Newt says, forcing himself to look back at Percival. The dogs are getting impatient at his feet, annoyed at being momentarily not being the center of attention.

“Are you busy tonight?” Percival doesn't even worry about coming across as desperate. If he has this chance, he is going to take it. “Besides taking care of these two, that is.”

“No, I'm free,” Newt answers carefully.

“Did you just start their walk?” He continues.

Newt seems even more surprised and delighted by that question. “Yes, actually. They were seeming a bit restless,” he adds. More accurately, he was feeling a bit restless, but he doesn't add that.

“Here, I'll walk with you,” Percival offers, moving to stand beside Newt.

“Really?” Newt can't stop asking that question.

“It would be my pleasure. There is a bar not to far from here with a lovely patio area, your dogs would be more than welcome. If that sounds nice to you?”

Newt grins, seeming delighted by the prospect. “Yes, that sounds lovely.”

Newt can barely believe this is really happening as Percival walks with him down the sidewalk, hand resting solidly against his lower back. A thrill runs through him at the simple touch. He can't help but feel a bit embarrassed in the face of Percival's calm confidence. He can't quite figure out why Percival would want to go out with him, but he decides to ignore those self defeating thoughts for a little while and trust in Percival's seeming attraction to him. The thought that Percival really is attracted to him sends another little thrill through Newt. This certainly isn't how he imagined his evening going but he isn't about to complain now.

The bar Percival leads him to his small and quiet, tucked away in the corner of an older building. There is indeed a small patio with a 'dogs welcome' sign. Luckily it is a warm enough night to sit outside but they are the only two on the patio.

Newt finds himself practically trembling with nerves as they wait for their drinks. The dogs settle down comfortable under the table, Beatrice resting her head on Newt's shoes. He glances at Percival with a shy smile, unable to figure out what to say. He never knows what to do in these situations, all of his instincts seeming completely wrong. Percival is easier to talk to than most people, for Newt anyway. It always seems as though he is actually listening to him and he never seems annoyed when Newt rambles on about his animals or the shelter. But launching into a speech about the importance of fostering elderly animals hardly seems appropriate.

Than Percival surprises him even further. “The beagle is Beatrice, right?” He asks as Newt fidgets nervously. Newt looks up at him fully, smile tugging at his lips as he nods. “And the new one? What are they called?”

“Bernard,” Newt answers with a wide smile. “I really couldn't help but take him home. Tina, she works with me at the shelter, said I already had to many animals at home, but I don't keep all of them. Anyway, she eventually came around. He really is doing better now that he's not at the shelter. And Beatrice as really bonded to him,” Newt rambles on for a moment. He stops, turning red and dropping his eyes. “I'm sorry, you probably don't want to hear all of this-”

“Newt,” Percival says, firm yet kind. He doesn't continue until Newt looks back up at him. “I don't like to beat around the bush and I don't say things I don't mean. I ask you these questions because I want to know the answers, because I like listening to you get excited and passionate. If I didn't like listening to you rant about your animals, I wouldn't have asked you out. Certainly not with the dogs,” he adds, drawing a chuckle from Newt. Percival doesn't know what happened to the other man to make him distrust Percival's interest so deeply, but he is determined to stomp out that mistrust. Though he can tell it won't be a very easy task.

Newt chews on his lower lip, looking Percival over shyly. He appears completely sincere. Newt can tell he is going to fall hard for Percival and he is only a little terrified.

Percival is not going to lie to himself, he wants Newt terribly in a very carnal way. He fully intends on pursuing something deeper with the other man but as the conversation grows more friendly and comfortable, it is difficult to keep his mind off the subject of getting Newt naked. He privately feels a little bad about it but still can't seem to stop. Newt's knees bump against his under the table and his cheeks have stayed pink since they ran into each other on the side walk. Newt's eyes have definitely dropped to Percival's lips more than once. If Percival had to guess, Newt has the same thing on his mind.

He can tell Newt has much tell experience when it comes to these things and he doesn't want to startle him. He can takes things slowly, if that is what Newt needs. At the very least, he is kissing him tonight. He was made his mind up on that matter. His thoughts turn briefly toward the dildo he'd seen several days ago. If Newt really is as inexperienced as Percival thinks he is, the image perversely more delicious. Does Newt have other toys, or is it his first? Can he even take the whole thing? Graves forces these thoughts from his mind and focuses on the shy young man in front of him.

As they walk back toward the apartment building, Percival's hand once again finds it's way to rest on Newt's lower back. Newt, loosened by two glasses of wine and comfortable conversation, leans into Percival as they walk. He warps his arm around Percival's waist, ducking his head to hide a shy smile.

Percival is planning on kissing him when they get back to their floor, probably in front of Newt's apartment. As much as he wants things to go further, he is fine with going home for the night and inevitably finding relief by his own hand. Newt surprises him, however, as soon as the elevator doors slide closed. The dogs crowd one corner, Beatrice leaning against Bernard as they disdainfully bare the elevator ride. Newt turns toward Percival, flushed and smiling, stepping into his personal space. His eyes drop toward Percival's lips once more, flicking back up as he licks his own. Percival barely suppresses a groan, grabbing Newt by the hips and pulling him forward.

“Are you going to kiss me now?” Newt asks expectantly.

Percival doesn't even try to hide his groan at that comment, hauling Newt closer and capturing his lips in a fierce kiss. He meant to be gentle, slow and coxing. All thoughts of fineness went out the window the moment Newt's lips touched his. He turns Newt, pressing his back up against the wall and sliding a leg between his thighs. Newt lets out the most delicious whimpers, pressing his growing hardness against Percival.

They very reluctantly pull apart when the elevator dings, alerting their arrival at their floor. The dogs march out ahead of them happily. Newt and Percival follow, unable to fully pull apart. Percival keeps a hand on Newt's waist as they walk toward the end of the hall.

Newt's heart is hammering. His mouth is dry and he's half hard in his pants. As they approach his apartment door, he doesn't quite know what to do. Would it be untoward to ask Percival inside? Newt really doesn't want to kissing portion of the night to be over. “Do you,” He starts, nearly losing his nerve. “Would you like to come inside?” he asks, voice breathier than he intended.

“Are you sure?”

Newt huffs out a thin laugh. “No,” he replies honestly. “But, it doesn't have to be... I have an unopened bottle of wine. You could just come in for a drink, meet the rest of my brood. Although, I wouldn't be opposed to more kissing,” he adds, unable to meet Percival's eyes as he says this.

“I'd love to come inside, Newt.”

Newt grins. “Oh, good.” He fumbles with the keys, unlocking his apartment and pushing the door open. The dogs rush in happily, barking their greeting out to the cats and one bird who also reside in Newt's apartment. There is a flurry of turning lights on and unhooking harnesses as Percival shuts the door behind them.

Newt stills a few feet in front of Percival, eyes going comically wide as he stares at the dildo still sitting out on the coffee table. Somehow, he completely forgot that he had left it there in his haste to get out and stretch his legs. Percival had completely distracted him from his earlier frustrations and now... Oh, hell.

“Newt?” Percival questions as he comes up beside him. His eyes fall on the coffee table. “Ah...”

“I-” Newt starts, turning toward Percival with wide, panicked eyes. “Listen, I can explain. Oh, this is so embarrassing,” Newt mutters, putting some unwanted distance between him and Percival. He can't help but imagine past partners and how they would react, teasing Newt without any gentleness or understanding. He can't believe he didn't remember leaving it out before inviting Percival inside.

“Newt,” Percival starts, voice warm and kind as he reaches out to place a hand on Newt's shoulder. “It's okay. You don't have to worry about it,” Percival starts, trying to reassure him.

“I... really should have put that away. See, my friend sent me that the other day as...a sort of funny gift and, well. I forget that I left it, you are really very distracting, and-”

“Newt,” Percival interrupts firmly. “I have toys of my own, that I actually picked out and bought for myself. You have nothing to feel embarrassed about. And I'm a little proud that my kisses are so distracting.”

Newt lets out a thin laugh, still bring pink as he looks back at Percival. “Alright, I'll try not to be mortified,” He murmurs.

“So,” Percival continues, eyes flicking back to where the toy lays on the coffee table, regrettably still sealed in its box. “You haven't used it yet?” The question is a gamble, Percival knowing he could send Newt into another embarrassed panic. The other man's eyes go comically wide but his tongue darts out, swiping across his lower lip as he looks Percival over.

“I-” Newt starts, considering his next words. “Well, the thing is,” he struggles, eyes dropping to the ground.

“We can change the subject?” Percival suggests, sensing Newt's strong discomfort.

“I haven't had sex,” Newt says instead, turning the darkest shade of red yet. “I mean, I have done things just not...” he nods toward the toy, “You know. Like that.”

“You've never been fucked,” Percival breathes, the crude words coming out without his permission.

Newt meets his eyes, lust evident in his expression. “No,” he answers quietly.

“Newt,” Graves starts.

“But I want to be,” Newt interrupts, maintaining eye contact as he says this.

Yay! This is so good.

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Prompt Post #1

Graves/Newt -- mail delivery mix up (modern au)

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