Graves descends on the Omega like a starving man graced with a feast. Grindelwald notes amusedly that the Omega hardly puts up a fight as he is undressed and rutted up against. It is almost intoxicating to watch how the most powerful Auror of his time is slain by the scent and slick of the wizard he is clinging to.
He hears soft mewls and cries coming from the tangle of limbs and bodies. Stepping closer to them, he lays a gentle hand on Graves' sweaty nape. "Claim him." He purrs, urging Graves over to Scamander's shoulder, tilting his head just so to angle his mouth over flesh. "Claim what is yours. What will be ours."
Graves hesitates for a beat, pushing against his hold. Grindelwald has a moment of doubt that he has broken him through and through when Graves parts his lips and sinks his teeth into a claiming bite. Scamander arches like he has been shot with lightning, eyes blown wide and mouth shaped around a silent scream.
"Good." Grindelwald smiles, excitement flaring in his veins at all the future possibilities they can achieve together. He moves his hand down the line of spine as he feels thrumming of Graves coming and knotting their Omega. He will need to claim him too, physically affirm himself as the apex of their ménage à trois as he has already done mentally, but he has an inkling that this will be the start of a beautiful relationship. One that will only bring ruin to their world.