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Call My Own

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Newt honestly doesn’t think it will go as poorly as it does.

But to say that it went poorly wasn’t quite correct.

More…unexpected he would say.


Queenie and Tina grew up in the manor beside Newt’s family home. They spent their childhood by the little creek, chasing frogs and sharing secrets. Newton never managed to have many friends, not like Theseus did. He couldn’t seem to bring people to him and make them like him in that same way. Never fit in. But Queenie and Tina never minded his oddness, never scoffed or scorned him.

They were his truest friends and Newt’s childhood would have been so much bleaker without them.

The trouble began when Queenie came of age.

It was no real secret that she was sweet on the kitchen worker Jacob and he adored her in return.

But he had no name or status, he was no one in the eyes of high society and their love was a doomed one.

Queenie was a first born daughter and her husband would inherit her father’s wealth one day. She would marry someone befitting that wealth, someone of high status.

Her power in Legilimency only made her more sought after. Any witch with such gifts was desired, her children more likely to be born powerful.

And so, Queenie was arranged to marry Percival Graves, a powerful and wealthy American who had come to Britain to find a bride.

The day her father announced it, Queenie cried for hours, sobbing under the trees along the creek in Tina’s arms. Newt standing there watching and feeling so helpless.

“You can only take this and make due,” Tina explained softly. There was sympathy in her face but also acceptance. They had all known Queenie would never marry Jacob. “Mr. Graves has a good reputation, a law enforcer and a gentleman.”

“I don’t want him,” Queenie sobbed out, her delicate shoulders shaking with despair.

“We don’t get to choose,” Tina replied quietly. “We can only take what is given to us. Father has done his best to find someone who will be understanding and a good match eventually. He’s not doing this to be cruel.”

“I want to be with Jacob, not some American.”

Tina tutted. “Father is American himself, be kind.”

“You don’t understand at all; you think I’m being a child! That I should have known better!” Queenie gathered her skirts and rose up, storming away from them.

“She really should have known better,” Tina confessed and Newt didn’t disagree. But he felt for his dear friend. Jacob was a good man, a kind and bright soul. Newt wished their lives were different so they could be together.


Queenie came to him a week after, visiting his family home and pulling Newt into a walk in the gardens. Magical creatures greeted them warmly, bowtruckles scrambling onto Newt’s shoulder happily.

“I know you understand more than anyone, that I want more than marriage to some stranger,” Queenie confessed. Newt couldn’t deny it; she could read his mind after all.

“It’s horrid and I don’t want too.”

Newt looked at her, curious what she would do. Queenie was the light and bubbly one, seeming delicate and bashful at times. But Newt grew up with her and he knew there was a strength in her that would never bend or break.

Queenie smiled gratefully at the thought, reaching out to tuck her arm into his and press in close.

“I want to ask you for something, a favour that would mean the world to me.”


And so, two months later, Newt stepped up into a carriage dressed as a woman. Tina and her parents had both become stomach sick and were unable to go. So Queenie would meet a paid chaperone once she arrived in the town and go to meet her future husband. It was half a day’s drive, three towns over where no one knew her. The chaperone hastily arranged had also never met her.

Queenie spelt the skies to pour down rain and so Newt wore a coat and wide bonnet to hide from the rain and the driver didn’t notice it wasn’t Queenie getting in. He was awkward in so much fine silk and lace, the dress embroidered and decorated with fine ribbons, everything very elaborate to show status. Queenie had spent hours carefully adjusting it to fit Newt’s body. The corset and women’s underthings rather snug but she reassured him they should be. They had poured hair potions on his head to grow his hair out last night and she had spent hours curling it and applying makeup, talking him through interactions and what to expect.

“Keep your head down, if you get flustered it’s fine, expected even, of a woman. Just use your fan to hide and say you need to sit for a bit. No proper man will deny you that. If you have to dance just follow the man's lead, if you make mistakes just say you feel light headed. Honestly, you can blame anything on being a frail woman.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met such a thing, a frail woman.”

Queenie smiled sweetly and kissed his cheek lovingly.

“Thank you Newt, you’ve given me a gift beyond anything else. I can’t thank you enough.”

Newt nodded, looking down at his lap, his nails trimmed and cleaned to look like a woman’s.

“I want you to be happy,” he admitted and Queenie sighed out, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“I will be. Because of you.”


Newt just had to play the role for the evening, once it was late enough he could retire to his room and then just wait out the night.

Queenie would have left with Jacob already. The two running away to marry and live together. Queenie would give up all her wealth and a life of ease for the man. Willing to have to find work and spend her life in labour. Newt thought perhaps that was a sign of the depth of her love, of the purity of it.

He hoped he could do this for her, help them have hours to get far away and to find a church to marry in.

Swallowing his nerves, he went over everything Queenie had suggested, be meek and demure, be soft and gentle. Honestly, Newt thought he might have done better in life he was born a woman. He was terrible at being an assertive forward man but it would be easy to be shy and soft. Because he was by nature, unable to deny that he was meek and submissive.

Once everything unravelled, Newt would face punishment but it would be nothing he feared. His parents loved him dearly and his brother would understand why he had done it. They often told him he was too soft-hearted, too easily led astray. They would blame Queenie more than him.

Even if it did cause a true strife, Newt would not regret this. He was helping his dear friend and that was worth any future trouble he faced.


Mrs. Edwards was a stern looking woman who immediately defied his expectations by offering Newt a gentle hug. It wasn’t common to offer such affection to a stranger but she did so without hesitation.

“I know this is hard, but I’m here to help you tonight. We can take this and make the best of it can’t we?” 

He wondered how often women were told so, to ‘make the best of it’. It seemed like a common phrase.

Newt nodded weakly, feeling bad for the lie but reminding himself of his friend’s happiness.

Mrs. Edwards tucked his hand into her elbow and walked Newt down the street of the small but clearly wealthy town.

“Mr. Graves arrived only yesterday but I’ve managed to scrounge up all I could on him on such short notice.”

“He might seem like an intimidating man when you first meet him, but he’s regarded as a gentleman and proper alpha.”

Newt nodded again, trying his best not to talk if he could, his voice might give him away. He was also far too tall for a woman but Mrs. Edwards hadn’t commented on it thankfully.

“We’ll settle in at my home and I’ll show you your room to freshen up. Then we’ll head to the Lord Ashford’s home where you will meet your intended. I’ll be beside you the entire time and make sure everything goes well.”

Newt swallowed and stumbled in his shoes, they felt so small and low cut, as if they might fall off his feet at any moment. Mrs. Edwards steadied him and frowned a touch.

“I’m….n-nervous,” his finally confessed, trying to keep his voice soft and low.

The other woman’s face lit with sympathy and she patted Newt’s hand soothingly.

“It’s going to be all right dear. This is just a first meeting. You’ll have plenty of more meetings before anything is formally announced, you’ll know him in no time at all.”

Newt nodded faintly.


They arrived early, as a woman should.

Mrs. Edwards kept her hand on Newt’s arm and led him around the people. It was horrid on his nerves, so many strangers in such small rooms it felt like.

“Poor dear, do crowds bother you?”

Newt nodded and the woman made a sympathetic sound. She must think him so weak and soppy but she hadn’t been unkind to him once.

“Let’s go to the balcony, no one likes the balcony when it’s windy,” she suggested and led Newt out of the house and into the fresh air. He sucked in a deep breath and felt his shoulders slump in a small relief.


“Ah, here we are, he's come to greet you properly,” Mrs. Edwards announced far too soon. She turned to face someone behind them and Newt took a steadying breath before turning as well.

A very handsome man was approaching them, his eyes intent on Newt. He was indeed, very intimating looking. His clothing fits him well and showing off his lithe form. His face was dignified and strict looking. A born alpha people would say, a true leader. 

“Mr. Graves,” Mrs. Edwards greeted and Newt dropped his gaze to the man’s shoes, unable to lift them again. He felt unexpectedly despicable for this lie to this man. Newt wanted Queenie to be happy but this was a terrible sort of thing to do to someone. If Newt was discovered, he would be mocked and was fine with it. But this man would be ridiculed as well he realized suddenly.

This lie felt suddenly far more heavy on his shoulders.

“This is lady Queenie Goldstein, the daughter of Lord Goldstein.”

Newt stood frozen a moment before Mrs. Edwards hand touched his back and he fumbled into a bow that he switched into a women's curtsy of greeting in the last second.

It had to look inelegant.

“Lady Queenie, this is Lord Percival Graves of New York.”

The man offered a bow and Newt’s fingers tangled in his silk dress nervously.

“It’s an honour to meet you finally, I must say your picture did you no justice.”

Newt nearly made a noise, eyes widening at the idea that this man was supposed to know what Queenie looked like.

“P-picture?” He breathed, trying to keep his voice soft.

“A portrait your father sent, a commissioned drawing that was made two years prior, he had mentioned you had matured a great deal since then.”

Newt nodded, glancing at the man. He didn’t seem suspicious, his gaze watching Newt with interest and not any sort of doubt that something was off. A drawing would be black and white, perhaps vague enough that it wasn’t obvious Newt wasn’t the one in the picture.

He could only hope to make the night through.

If Mr. Graves realized the truth Newt would pull him aside and confess, to spare the man any shame.  

“Why don’t we go find something to refresh us?” Mrs. Edwards announced and the man stepped back from them, motioning for them to go first.

Newt couldn’t help but look at him as they walked past, the man’s steady eyes still watching him. It was both terrifying and exhilarating. Newt was certain this man would figure him out, he seemed far too clever not too. But the weight of his gaze also felt… good. Newt could feel his face heat and Mrs. Edwards smiled knowingly as she led him away.

“A good first meeting,” she whispered to Newt.


For the rest of the evening, the woman kept herself at Newt’s elbow all night. Gently correcting him when he did something wrong or spoke in a way a woman shouldn’t. Part of Newt wished to ignore her guidance at times, Queenie would have. No woman was truly as demure as she wished. But he was in a strange place with no real allies save for this woman so Newt followed her instructions without question.

Mr. Graves watched them like a hawk, sipping his wine and standing with other men but his gaze always finding Newt.

He tried to fade away, tucked in a quiet corner, watching the livelier people dance. He used his fan to hide, ducking behind it as he tried his best not to watch the clock too obviously. Part of him very badly wanted to feign illness and escape but he was worried he might be caught if he acted too rashly.

“You should speak with him more, dear, try to establish a friendship.”

Newt looked away from the woman trying to help, wishing badly that he had a reason not too.

But Mrs. Edwards took his elbow and led him across the room closer to Queenie’s intended. Mr. Graves left his spot to meet them, ever watching Newt.

“I would have this dance?” He requested and Mrs. Edwards glanced to Newt for an answer.

“I’m…I’m really v-very terrible,” he confessed, his voice sounding breathy. A bit of sweat running down the small of his back. Newt was used to heavy layers of clothing and had thought women’s might be lighter. Instead, he was strapped into a corset that made it hard to draw in a deep breath. When he first wore it today he had barely noticed but now it was growing more uncomfortable by the moment. His silk underthings were clinging to his sweat-slicked thighs and the layers of the dress were trapping the heat. He wasn’t used to wearing a headdress either, bits of ribbon and jewellery weaved into his hair that was piled on his head artfully by Queenie. It felt heavy and pulling now. Newt was utterly uncomfortable and dearly wished to escape. The idea of attempting to dance was not a pleasant one.

“Surely, a single song,” Mrs. Edwards pressed and Newt nodded weakly, face beginning to heat up.

Mr. Graves stood before him as the song began, Mrs. Edwards to the side watching them keenly.

Newt missed the women’s cue and fumbled to catch up. When they met and Mr. Graves took his hand in his own, his skin felt hot to the touch. Newt thought maybe he wouldn’t have to fake an illness soon. He felt so warm and peaky. 

He couldn’t look at the man at all. Guilt in the back of his throat for the wrong he was doing to this poor man. Newt kept his gaze on Mr. Graves’ fine waistcoat. It was a trendy cut with charmed dragon embroidery that moved in unified motions. Peeking at his face, Newt thought he was rather dapper too. Very intimidating but very suave.

“Are you feeling well?” Mr. Graves asked when they stepped close to swing in a circle and Newt missed the step, nearly colliding with the man. He was a touch taller than him, feeling so out of place and utterly awkward.

“I’m warm,” Newt admitted as he looked down to their feet and tried to recall the moves for a woman. He had thought it would be easy, such a foolish thing to think.

Percival’s hand that had Newt’s own pulsed with magic and he blinked as a cool breeze seemed to come over him, easing the cloistering heat that was trying to engulfing him.

“T-Thank you,” he breathed, truly grateful for the act.

“I know things are not ideal,” Mr. Graves offered, voice low with a kindness that betrayed his stern features. “But I do hope we can try and have a good life together.”

Newt’s faced burned with remorse, knowing this man was trying to build an understanding and friendship with his future wife. He had no idea Newt wasn’t even a woman, that Queenie had by now, married Jacob and had no intention of marrying Mr. Graves.

“I feel like you would be a g-good husband,” Newt replied sincerely.

He was far too aware of the other man’s body so close to his own, brushing against him as they moved. Mr. Graves held his hand in a secure but not too tight grip and his hand on Newt’s waist felt warm in a nice way even through the many layers.

Newt had never felt such a pull before, never wanted anyone. He had thought perhaps he was not meant to marry. Now his thoughts were thrown into disarray and he was very aware that he might be a homosexual.

His parents would be delighted. The muggles were still very discriminating but the wizard folk had moved passed it. There were plenty of high-status men seeking a young husband over a wife. Newt had never given interest for so long that his parents worried he might not ever. They would be so happy to parade him before men until a match was made. As a second born son, Newt’s marriage wasn’t as important as Theseus. But his parents wanted to see him married, with someone so he wouldn’t end up a spinster all alone.

“Are you sure you’re well?” Mr. Graves asked again when Newt missed another step and he was saved by the dance ending. With a quick curtsy, he slipped over to Mrs. Edwards side once more. She offered an encouraging smile and didn’t comment on Newt’s ghastly dancing thankfully.

When they went out for air on the balcony again. Newt blinked when something in his hair moved when the other woman's attention was on the people inside.

Pickett the bowtruckle squeaked at him and Newt fumbled to hide him away before they were caught. The bowtruckle kept chattering at him, worried about him and insisting Newt was ill.

Which he couldn’t deny.

Sweat was running down his thighs, sticky and strange. His neck felt far too warm, even in the evening winds. The cooling spell Mr. Graves had cast had faded and Newt was startled with how hot his body felt.

“Perhaps we should call this an early night, you seem a bit faint,” Mrs. Edwards announced and Newt nodded his head in relief.

“I feel off,” he agreed and the woman believed him.

“We must say good evening to Mr. Graves,” she insisted and Newt agreed if only to leave finally.

“A moment, I see him and I’ll bring him over, you’ll see me the whole time.” Mrs. Edwards nodded to where Newt could see Mr. Graves speaking with other gentlemen and he nodded his head. “You stay here in the cool air; you seem about to faint I fear.”

Newt nodded weakly, not disagreeing with the assessment.

He looked out over the streets, people coming and going from the house and others in carriages going down the street. It was early in the evening still but not so much that Newt would be too odd to leave.

“Lovely evening,” A new voice rumbled, too close and Newt startled. He stepped away from the stranger, a handsome man but an undercurrent of menace about him. Newt looked away, nodding his head and trying to edge closer to the balcony rail and away from the man standing far too close.

“You look lovely as well,” he mused, his hand reaching to touch the small of Newt’s back.

Sweat trickled down Newt’s neck and the touch felt appalling. Reaching back, he pushed the man’s hand away firmly.

“If you don’t mind, you’re standing too close,” he said tightly.

The man seemed amused, chuckling low and not moving away at all.

“You smell divine darling.”

“Leave me alone,” Newt hissed back, the guise of a demure woman slipping as a stranger put him on edge. Newt couldn’t muster a proper glare or look at him directly but he let his voice carry and his words are rude.

“I think she wants you to step away,” Mr. Graves declared and Newt’s shoulders slumped in relief.

Without waiting he pushed away from the stranger and went to the other man’s side. He surprised them both by tucking his arm into Mr. Graves elbow securely. It was forward of him to do so with a man, even his intended.

“I really don’t feel well,” he whispered and Mr. Graves spared the other man a glare before nodding.

“Come along,” he instructed and Newt nodded, following him. He kept his head down and clung to the man as he led Newt through winding groups of people and hallways and stairs. The house hadn’t seemed large before but now it felt like a maze.

“Where it your chaperone?”

“She went to find you, I'm not sure where she is now,” Newt replied, sweat running down the side of his face. The cool air felt lovely on his skin and Newt walked forward, leading now. Mr. Graves followed him as Newt hurried down the street side and away from the crowd. His head was buzzing with so many voices, pecking at him like birds. He just needed a bit of quiet.

“Shall I fetch a healer?”

“Don’t leave,” Newt said with a frantic edge. The presence of the man was calming him, something frantic trying to work its way through him. “Please don’t leave me.”

His feet stumbled and his knees buckled, Mr. Graves twisted to catch Newt as he nearly fell. They ducked into the stables aside the house, no one inside as Mr. Graves leaned Newt against the barn wall.

Newt’s fingers grabbed at the fabric across his stomach, trying to get the lace ties open and the dress aside so he could undo the corset.

“I can’t breathe,” he moaned out and the man in front of him cursed out. Firm hands pushed his own away and Newt whimpered as the fine silk and lace was torn. Mr. Graves fingers found the corset and a muttering of magic severed all the laces at once. It fell loose and slipped off him as Newt sucked in a deep breath gratefully, slumping against the wall.

Mr. Grave stood before him, watching Newt intently.

“Forgive my forwardness,” he said before he leaned in suddenly. Newt had his back to the wall and was facing the man, drawing in a quick breath as Mr. Graves dipped in and sniffed his neck. The close contact should have been appalling but Newt found he liked it immensely, more than anything that could be normal.

“Something is w-wrong,” he panted, still not able to breathe correctly.

“I think…I think you might be in heat,” Mr. Graves announced and Newt blinked at him. He looked at his face, meeting his gaze for the first time and something utterly sinful washed through his body. Newt dropped his eyes immediately and shook his head in negative.

“I‘can’t be. Omegas aren’t in’my family,” he protested, voice slurring a bit.

“They don’t have to be; it can happen to anyone.”

The magical population was made up of betas, regular people. A very small number were alphas, dominant and aggressive by nature. An even smaller percent were omega, meek and submissive. 

“Omegas go into heat around sixteen, I’m almost twenty, t-too old.” Newt explained, leaning heavily on the wall as the world spun around him.

“There is no set law, late-blooming happens. You need to go somewhere safe, every alpha in the town will scent you soon, even with the winds.”

“I smell?” Newt wrinkled his nose and Mr. Graves chuckled.

“Very good, like something pure and alluring. It was on you when you arrived and it’s been getting stronger all night.”

Newt bit his lower lip, wondering where Mrs. Edwards was, she would know what to do he felt. Had the terrible man from before scared her off or something equally distasteful.

“Right lovely isn’t she?” That slithering voice said and Newt tensed, turning his head to find the stranger in the doorway watching them.

“Get out,” Mr. Graves snarled, utterly snarled the words, suddenly wound up and aggressive. Newt’s knees felt weak at the command in the tone.

“Come now, be reasonable, we can share her.”

“Leave now or I’ll make you leave,” came the growl and other man pushed away from leaning on the doorjamb. Instead of going away though he stepped into the stables.

“Shall we see who wins?”

Feeling light-headed, Newt swallowed as Mr. Graves yanked his coat off his shoulders and the stranger undid his shirt cuffs.

“Omegas can be claimed by anyone they wish when in heat,” the stranger recited. “Alphas who want them may fight for them, but do so without magic or weapon.”

Newt tried to protest, he didn’t want anyone fighting over him, but his tongue felt too heavy to work.

Mr. Graves didn’t spare time, lifting his fists and suddenly both men were moving far too fast for Newt to keep track. They struck out at one another, trying to damage the other and snarling back and forth.

Mr. Graves took more hits but he seemed able to, bracing for each impact and letting loose his own strikes. His landed a hard blow, staggering the stranger. Their fists were red with blood right away and their faces bruising from blows. They looked feral, eyes wild and intent on each other, as if to kill one another.

The stranger spat blood into the hay and smirked at Mr. Graves, looking utterly unhinged. 

“We can’t have some American stealing away our precious omegas,” he sneered and moved in again to attack the other alpha.

Newt could tell they were both alphas now, by the aggression both were displaying, snarling and growing at each other. A beta male wouldn’t want an omega with the same fierceness. For every omega there were ten alphas, an unfair number that drove alphas to be very possessive of any omega they found. Newt dimly recalled a young girl from the working class going into heat in the town and her family suddenly of high status when she married for an utter fortune. If Newt was somewhere safe, he might have had a choice like that. But here in a stable with the high winds hiding his omega scent, he was alone and at the mercy of the two fighting to have him.

He was an omega.

He was in heat.

Newt shivered as the stranger moved so fast, precise hits that Mr. Graves clearly felt as he grunted with each blow. The man pressed the advantage and Newt felt himself shudder when the stranger forced Mr. Graves back.

He rallied though and Newt’s emotions soared high again as Mr. Graves blocked the next blow and landed his own. His lip was torn and bleeding and he looked fierce as he fought the stranger back.

Finally, Mr. Graves landed a hard hit on the man’s jaw and the stranger slammed to the ground with a solid thud. Unable to get back up right away.

“Get out,” he growled to the loser, voice so rough and aggressive as his gaze swung over to Newt. Instantaneously he felt the heat of his body rise, something wicked rushing into Newt. Heat and bodies pressed together, he wanted this man close, wanted him to rub himself all over Newt’s body. Wanted something he barely understood. Newt had never felt sexual urges, never masturbated or explored. It made sense now, some omegas were said to be sexually immature until their first heat.

The stranger spat blood, reaching into his mouth to yank out a tooth and his face was dark and thunderous as he looked up. He pulled his wand and Newt made a shocked noise. Percival twisted back to face him, trying to call his own from his discarded coat.

But the spell hit him first. Lighting lancing through his body as he dropped to the ground in agony.

“Like I said, you won’t be taking that omega,” the stranger smirked down at Mr. Graves.

Newt glanced at the door, thinking to make a run. His heat seemed to fall back, the danger clearing his mind.

The man was distracted with Mr. Graves slumped form, delivering a cruel kick to his stomach when he tried to rise up.

Newt couldn't just leave him. He looked around and found a shovel leaning on the wall beside him.

“I’m going to enjoy fucking him over your prone body,” The man mocked Mr. Graves. He glared up at the stranger, not giving Newt away at all as he crept closer behind the man facing away.

"You'll do no such thing," Mr. Graves snapped, keeping the man's attention on him.

Newt didn’t hesitate at all, the world felt a bit woozy still and Newt perhaps hit far harder than he intended. But he slammed the heavy metal end of the shovel down on the stranger’s head and watched him fall hard. He panted for breath as he dropped the shovel, taking no pleasure in the aggressive act. Newt never liked committing violence. 

“W-What a repulsive man,” he announced weakly.

Pickett squeaked in agreement from his hiding place in Newt's torn dress.

“Are you ok?” Newt asked Mr. Graves and the man nodded as he got up carefully, blood dripping down his chin.

“I should have suspected a dirty fighter from his sort,” he muttered.

“Probably,” Newt agreed and it seemed to surprise the man who huffed out a strained laugh.

Mr. Graves took up his wand and tied the man up securely before moving him out into the street. A quick message spell was sent to that local authorities and Newt shivered when the door was opened and the wind snuck in.

His sweaty body went cold in an instant and Mr. Graves offered his coat, helping Newt pull it onto his shoulders.

“We should go find your chaperone.”

Newt nodded, glancing at the stranger’s slumped body and feeling that urgent desire still winding through him, beginning to wake up once more. He glanced at Mr. Graves again and felt it increase, hungry for this alpha who had fought so hard for him but was still a gentleman.

Newt reached out and gently took hold of his wrist. Mr. Graves looked to Newt in question.

Biting his lip, he pulled him and the alpha followed obediently, letting Newt take them to the back of the stables.

It was a large place with winding halls and horses in the stalls, the smell of hay and animals all around them.

Newt stopped when they reached the other side, a set of closed doors that would lead out to the opposite street of the house. There was no one around, no one to see them.

“I’m…I’m not Queenie,” he confessed quietly, head ducking in shame.

“I know,” Mr. Graves replied easily and Newt blanked in surprise, looking at his face and finding the man looking back steadily. “You look nothing like the picture.”

“I’m not a woman at all,” Newt added and the man tipped his head and nodded in agreement.

“It’s in your scent,” he explained and Newt shivered.

“I’m s-sorry, for lying.”

“It’s alright, I half expected her not to show. It was no secret Queenie didn’t wish to marry.” He stepped in as he explained it and Newt trembled for a different reason. A heady cologne clung to the coat he was wearing over his shoulders, filling his nose as the man stood so close to him, he could almost feel his heat.

“What’s your name?” Mr. Graves asked quietly, reaching out a hand and pushing a bit of Newt’s hair from his face. It was an inappropriate thing to do and Newt wanted more.

“Newt, everyone calls me Newt,” he replied, leaning in, swaying closer to the man.

“Newt,” he tested out, voice low and warm. His eyes intent on Newt and making him feel all dizzy and overheated again. “May I kiss you?”


Newt trembled as the man leaned in and pressed his warm mouth to his own. He felt so inexperienced, his body betraying him, wanting to press in close. Newt couldn’t help but obey, stepping in to press their chest together as the man kissed him.

It felt good, warm and gentle.

It wasn’t enough.

Newt whined in his throat, tipping his head to press a bit firmer, mouth parting a touch. His tongue snuck out, seeking and Mr. Graves let him. He opened his own mouth and let Newt steal a taste of him.

His back hit the wall, he hadn’t realized they were moving at all. Mr. Graves pressed himself to Newt, trapping him between the wall and his body.

It felt wonderful.

Newt whimpered out when the alpha broke the kiss, suddenly leaning in to rain kisses on his neck. His breath hot on Newt’s skin as he arched his head back to give him room to work. Newt licked his lower lip and tasted copper, Mr. Graves blood from the fight smeared on his skin.

“I want,” he gasped out, hands reaching out to pull the man closer, as if he could just pull him tightly enough they would be one and the building need in Newt would abate. He could feel sweat running down his skin again, his whole body beginning to go hot once more.

“Please,” Newt begged, “I need,” he whimpered, not even knowing really.

Mr. Graves growled against his skin, reaching out and gripping Newt’s thighs. He lifted him suddenly, thighs spread wide and pulled to the man’s waist. When he stepped in Newt could feel his erection press against his body and he moaned out.

He wanted that.

His fingers ran through the man’s slicked hair and he pulled his head up so Newt could kiss him again.

This time Mr. Graves tongue invaded his mouth immediately. Flicking his tongue and licking at him, tasting him in this lewd way.

“I’m going to fuck you, sweet,” He rumbled when he pulled back, one hand fumbling to pull Newt’s ripped dress aside. “I need to fuck you.”

Newt nodded his head, thighs tightening on the man’s waist to keep himself up as his silk and lace dress ripped more. His underclothing tore as well, magic running over his skin and rushing to expose his bare body under all the fabric.

Mr. Graves hands came together to grip the front top of the dress and with a grunt, he tore it open the rest of the way. It parted and Newt’s bare skin was on display.

The man fell on it like an animal, rushing to lick at Newt’s skin and his mouth closing to suck on his right nipple.

Newt whined out, voice going embarrassingly loud as he pushed his hips against the alpha hungrily. He quivered and shivered, feeling his cock achingly hard but it was lower still that felt more sensitive. Mr. Graves cupped his backside, squeezing it roughly and then one hand pressed in between.

Neat was soaked he realized.

Not sweat like he had thought. Something slippery dripping from that spot.

Mr. Graves fingers brushed against Newt’s most intimate place, somewhere never explored and Newt whimpered as his body lit like a torch and he was overwhelmed. Crying out, his hands clutched at the man desperately as Newt came apart. His cock dripped white bead of seed and everything throbbed brightly, pleasure like nothing he had ever known taking him. Holding him entirely, consuming him.

Newt slumped against the wall, shivering in the aftershocks of such an immense feeling.

Mr. Graves kissed his shoulder gently as he adjusted Newt to slide a bit higher on his hips.

The man reached between them and after a moment of fumbling, Newt felt something hot and hard touch him.

It was blunt and far too big but pressing insistently.

Newt knew enough of sex to know what was happening, the man wanted into Newt, wanted to fuck him. Such a dirty word and yet in the moment it seemed fine, it seemed right almost. A rude word for this thing happening, everything far too much and Newt barely knowing what was occurring.

Mr. Graves hissed out, pressing his face into Newt’s shoulder and so he wound his arms around his broad shoulders and held on as the alpha pushed his cock at Newt with more insistence.

It went suddenly, sinking in and Newt gasped out.

There was no way to describe it, he felt opened inside his body. Slick made it all wet and slippery as the man gently nudged a bit deeper. Newt’s thighs clenched, a bit of pain nipping at him.

“It’s ok, sweet, It’s ok,” Mr. Graves growled out, trying to sound kind but not quite there. His voice held a strained note, something dark and strained. Newt was surprised to like it, to enjoy something about the tone, as if the strain and heat was a delightful thing.

Mr. Graves kept easing into Newt, more and more. It felt like far too much, his body felt like it was stretched so wide.

It felt so good. So right and so perfect.

Newt had never known mating could feel like this, a pleasure that was so simple and yet so powerful.

The alpha finally seemed to be inside him fully, pressing Newt’s hips down and his backside was in his lap. Newt had a cock buried in him. His mind was dizzy and his breath uneven, everything felt so new and strange but he knew immediately that he liked this. That he liked a cock inside him.

Then Mr. Graves moved.

Newt cried out, far too loud but unable to stop it.

Something was sparking inside him when the man moved, the friction was amazing and Newt trembled so hard, so overwhelmed and lost in this new world.

He clung to the man and whimpered as Mr. Graves shushed him gently and kept moving, back and forth. Over and over, Newt’s thighs clenched and relaxed, his whole body not knowing how to react.

All Newt knew was that he wanted it. He adored it. He pressed sloppy kisses to the man’s neck, above his proper collar. Newt pulled at it, wanting more skin. The top button popped with magic and he delighted in licking a long line over the salty skin. The alpha tasted so good, it made sense why he was lapping at Newt’s skin as well, licking and nipping at his shoulder.

Newt tried a nip as well, sinking in his teeth and the reaction was instant, the man bucking into him with a sudden hard motion. Newt’s body responded as well, liking that rough motion very much. So Newt bit again, a bit harder and Mr. Graves gave him a groan as his hips pumped a bit faster.

Newt let go of the skin under his teeth, sighing out as he clung to the man and felt him fuck into Newt.

Such a lovely thing.

“More please, just like that,” he gasped out when Mr. Graves gave him a few good and vigorous lunges. The wall banging as Newt's body was rammed into it. He could hear the wet sound of their mating, an indecent slick sound because Newt was so wet there.

“More, please more,” he encouraged, needing it so utterly.

He sobbed as the man obeyed him so exquisitely, slamming into him, thrusting so forcefully. It felt so unclothe and brutish but Newt’s body felt so good because of it.

He pressed his brow to the man’s shoulder and cried softly, the wall banging over and over as Newt’s weight hit it. He was shoved up with every lunge, his whole body jolted as pleasure sang through him.

Something was rising in him, something terrible and perfect. Sin and heat overtaking everything.

“Please,” he begged, tears streaming down his face as his thighs squeezed the man’s body between them, trying to hold on and take more pleasure.

He felt greedy and wild for it, making such loud uncivil sounds as the man growled and rammed into him. He was shoving so hard and Newt could feel himself coming apart. He hung onto to the man tightly as everything burned too bright again.

Mr. Graves was just as lost this time, cursing lowly as he drove his cock into Newt with such force and speed. Trying to go as deep as possible it felt like and Newt moaned as something in him gave way.

Trembling, he came again, his body clenching, his muscles strained as pleasure overtook him.

It felt frozen in time for a few seconds, like a spell holding him. He couldn't breathe and his whole body tensed as everything felt so utterly wonderful.

When it finally fluttered down, Newt slumped on the man, panting for breath desperately as his body jerked in little aftershocks, thighs aching with the burden of holding so tightly.

Mr. Graves was buried inside him, pressed deep and Newt thought he could feel him, pulsing within his body.

The alpha shifted and lowered them slowly, going down onto his knees ungracefully. Their combined weight must be heavy Newt thought absently. As they moved he could feel the prick inside him remain deep, locking into him. Knotted, Newt realized. Alphas and omegas knotted.

The cock inside him felt good, snug and warm, filling him in a way that Newt had never known he needed before. And yet he knew now he would always need this, always crave it.

Mr. Grave’s face was pressed into Newt’s neck again, his mouth gasping for air and pressing reverent kisses to his skin. It felt intimate and wonderful, Newt’s fingers gently running through the man’s hair as they stayed there, tied together. 


They came apart much later, Newt feeling empty when Mr. Graves pulled out of him. They pulled apart and Newt missed the heat but his muscles were grateful to stretch out, groaning and popping as he weakly sat up and then very shakily stood up.

His dress hung off one shoulder, hanging at his sides, his whole body on display. Feeling embarrassed, Newt fumbled to pull the sides closed.

Mr. Graves stood up as well, fetching his coat and winding it around Newt so he could hide his body.

“T-thank you,” Newt’s voice was hoarse, he had been so noisy his throat was sore now. There was absolutely no way no one had heard them, rutting like beasts. Humiliation and shame flooded him but some part of Newt couldn’t regret what they had done.

That greedy hunger in him had gone still but Newt could feel it in his stomach, waiting to rise again. Not done yet.

“We have time,” Mr. Graves said, voice composed again. “Before you need to mate again, a few hours.”

Newt stared at the ground, not really sure what to say or do. He had no real idea what would happen now.

Normally, this would have shamed his family, but Newt had never heard of an omega mating in a negative way. They mated with an alpha that wasn’t picked for them by their family or they ran off with them, but mating, in general, wasn’t scorned the same was everyone else was.

An alpha and omega simple belonged together, it was natural and undeniable.

“If we hurry, we might catch him, mass should have just ended.”

Newt blinked in confusion, glancing at the other man. Mr. Graves held out a hand and Newt peered at it a moment before reaching out and taking it.

He had just met this man but he knew he trusted him already.

Mr. Graves fixed Newt’s dress with a mending spell, the torn fabric winding back together. It wasn’t the same dress, the cloth pulled a bit tighter and higher since ripped bits had fallen away. But it was proper again. Newt still wore the alpha’s coat over his shoulders, the weight of it felt comforting.

Pickett was in the coat pocket, looking very disapproving of Newt and his new friend. But Newt could only smile, peering at Mr. Graves and seeing him smile back.

They walked hand in hand to the little church on the hill.

The priest greeting them with a knowing look. People had watched them on the street as they went by whispering furiously. It was clear everyone knew what had happened.

The priest looked approving to see them.

Mr. Graves squeezed Newt’s hand and turned to face him on the steps of the church doors. He lifted Newt’s hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

He looked a bit wild, hair a mess and blood still smeared on his jaw, his shirt pulled loose and his waistcoat torn a bit, his trousers winkled. His eyes were intent though, without shame or care for anything but Newt it seemed.

“Would you do me the honour of marrying me?”

Newt stared at him, this alpha who had come for Queenie but appeared elated to have Newt instead. Who wanted to marry him right then and there.

It was utterly outrageous and preposterous, to marry someone he had just met, even if they had mated.

But something inside Newt twisted in delight, something whispering that the alpha before him was utterly perfect for him.

Newt had always trusted his gut.

“I’d love too."


To say the next few days were a whirlwind would be an understatement.

Everything seemed to happen so fast, the days filled with nonstop talking, scoldings and explanations.

“America,” Theseus bemoaned as he handed Newt thing off his shelf to spell unbreakable before packing into his moving trunk.

“It’s so far,” he added and Newt nodded his head, feeling his own nerves.

“I can’t marry someone and not move live with them.”

“Marriage,” Theseus huffed.

“Omegas and duels, heats and marriage, Newt this is utterly wild.”

Newt sat on his bed with a sigh.

“Don’t you think I know that? I’m doing my best,” Newt confessed and his brother lost his whining edge, sifting beside him shoulder to shoulder.

“It could be worse I suppose,” Theseus sighed. “He could be ugly.”

 “Theseus,” Newt groaned, shoving his sibling.

“Really though, omega’s care about that sort of thing I’m told.”

“Yes, only them, because looks don’t decide anything for anyone else.”

Theseus shrugged, grinning as he teased to help calm Newt’s nerves.

“He is handsome and wealthy. Even if he’s American.”

“Can you manage to say a single thing about my husband without adding some snub?”

“Probably not, he’s stealing my baby brother.”

“I’m not a book you left laying out and someone grabbed, I can’t be stolen.”

Theseus nudged their shoulders again.

“But you are going very far, and I will miss you dearly.”

“It’s not that far, with magic we’ll visit plenty,” Newt added, looking to Theseus for confirmation.

“Of course.”


Newts parents were still reeling from the shock of their shy and awkward son disappearing for a week and returning with a husband and omega status but they were adjusting well he thought.

“I don’t think the village will ever get over it, quiet Newt running off to America with a rich husband.” His mother mused.

“It wasn’t planned,” Newt defended weakly and his mother chuckled. They were sharing an afternoon tea together as Theseus and their father walked the gardens with Percival.

Percival Graves, Newt’s husband. “Please call me Percival,” he had said in the week they had spent mating furiously and cementing their mating bond.

“It rarely is with you. Running off in skirts and pretending to be Queenie, her family is still so upset.”

Newt winced, thinking of Tina who refused to speak to him yet. They were hurt but with time Newt hoped they would understand. Queenie had promised to write after a few months once they were settled.

“They were in love,” Newt defended. Thinking of the pair off somewhere together, happy.

“And now you’re married.”

“Yes, well that part was very much unintended.”

“Why did you marry then?”

Newt blinked, looking at his mother as she peered back at him. She was never a pushy woman, always calm and very wise. It was clear she was looking for some answer and Newt wasn’t sure what it was she hoped to hear from him.

The truth he decided.

“I… because he asked I suppose. And because I thought it might be… marvellous really. People say an omega in heat can tell who is the best possible mate.”

His mom nodded her head, sipping his tea with a soft smile.

“To think, you father worried you married to keep your reputation.”

Newt wrinkled his nose.

“I don’t think I really had one of those to begin with. The odd young man who spent too much time in the gardens, wanted to study creatures of all things.”

“A good man,” his mother corrected. “Fair and upstanding, willing to help those who needed and always tried his best to do what was right.”

“Marrying a stranger is probably far from the wise or right choice.”

“Time will tell,” his mother contemplated. “If you wish to come home, you always can. No matter what the situation. We would always welcome you home, your father already put money aside for an emergency ticket from America if ever needed.”

Newt fought a well of emotion, nodding his head and looking out into the gardens, heart swelling with the knowledge that he was loved. 


“How was the walk in the garden?” Newt asked in the evening, Percival coming to bed. They shared a room as a married couple. Without the heat to push them, it was rather awkward, they knew so little of one another. But Percival seemed determined to ignore that, talking to Newt each time he saw him and doing his best to learn about him. Newt could do nothing less in return.

“Enlightening. Your brother and father wished to make me understand that your omega status was very new to you and that I should be patient as you grow comfortable. I think they were trying to make threats about having a child too soon.”

Newt felt his face heat. He was in bed already, a book in his lap. He focused on it now, embarrassed with the very idea. Percival was changing and although there was a screen for modesty he seemed fine to undress where Newt could see. It felt silly to be nervous to look upon the very man who had been inside him.  

The man who was his husband and would one day sire a family with him.

A child.

A fortnight ago, Newt was a normal beta man, not different from the majority. Now he was the uncommon omega male. Able to carry children. To grow a life. Newt had a womb and the idea truly was very startling to think of.

By mutual choice, Newt and Percival had used potions to prevent a child during his heat. It would be too soon, far too much to take on when they needed to learn one another.

Percival lifted the covers and slid into the bed beside Newt.

He could feel the heat from the alpha’s body and his own seemed to react without permission. They hadn’t had sex since Newt’s heat ended. But it had only been four days and they were in his family’s home.

“I’m sure they meant well, it’s been a bit startling for everyone.”

Percival hummed in agreement, settling down on his pillow.

“What are you reading?”

“A book on omega biology. I really don’t know a great deal about what it means to be an omega. It’s rare for them to stay out in the country and not head into the cities.”

“Where the wealth is?”

“I suppose.” Newt closed his book and settled down into the blankets too, turning on his side to face Percival. He dimmed the light beside the bed down low.

“What are omega’s like in America?”

“Rare. Very rare. I’ve met a few in New York, however. They…are always dressed as female despite their gender and are very…meek. Soft-spoken. Always with someone as well, chaperones to keep them safe.”

“Is America dangerous?”

“Not any more than here. It’s just…I think it’s assumed omega’s need more protection, that they might not be able to defend themselves.”

Newt frowned a bit.

“During heat it makes sense, but every other day? I don’t feel weaker than others or anything of that sort.”

“You might be the exception. Maybe it’s a myth to keep an eye on omegas? Bloodlines are important to wealthy families and most omega marry into powerful families.”

“Is your family powerful?”

Percival made a soft sound, turning off his back onto his side to peer at Newt.

“The Graves… are one of the Original Twelve.”

Newt flushed.

“I don’t know what that means. To be fair I don’t know most of the Ministry leaders either. Or any of the important families of Britain. I’m not…politics isn’t something that interests me.”

Percival chuckled and Newt’s worry abated a bit.

“It’s of no importance in the end. We have a responsibility to the people in a sense. There’s always been at least one auror in every family generation.”

“Is that why you became one?”

Percival hummed in thought, seeming at ease with these little bedtime chats. Newt felt like they learned the most at these times, soft intimate talks.

“I wanted to because my father was. My brother and sister as well. All three of us became aurors and my father was delighted. The family name and all that was secondary.”

“Will I meet your father?”

Percival’s faint smile faded.

“He passed last year, mother not long after.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Newt breathed, reaching out under the bed to shyly touch Percival’s hand. It felt forward but Newt knew they needed to become more comfortable. His mother often took his father’s hand to offer comfort. He took Newt’s hand softly, his calloused skin smooth and warm. Hands that had been all over Newt’s body.

“It was sudden, a heart attack, but he lived a good life and died peacefully in his sleep. Me and my siblings never married and when we lost them both we sort of realized we needed to begin our own families as well. Me most of all.”

“Why you?” Newt asked, feeling Percival’s thumb idly rub on his hand. It felt lovely. Such a simple contact that left Newt floating a bit.

“I’m the eldest, thirty is old not to be married proper. Not to have children. But politics interfere with courting for my family so I came to Britain. I had hoped to find someone interested in love and not wealth or power.”

“You found well then. I’ve little interest in either. I’ve only ever wanted to marry for love and to be able to continue my research work.”

“On magical creatures?”

Newt nodded.

“It will be different, America’s laws on magical creatures being what they are. But there are still many wild creatures in America I can learn about.”

Percival nodded, not looking sure entirely. Newt knew he would find a way however; he always had managed to before. New York was going to be an entirely new world but he would learn.


New York was jarring.

Newt had been to London and other larger cities in Britain but New York felt vastly different, everything so fast paced. It was almost overwhelming, threatening the swallow Newt whole. He missed his family and quiet country life badly for the first week but refused to despair. Percival was so kind to him, fretting over his happiness. He spelt his house to create a massive observatory workroom, glass walls and roof letting in the sunlight so he could grow plants and make himself a nice green space like the gardens from home.

There were two darling house elves, Mildred and Settle, who were assigned to help Newt in any way he needed. Both so eager to please and prove themselves to him.

The house was old but well cared for, filled with things that looked expensive and modern. Percival insisted they were no concern when Newt accidentally broke a vase. He had a secret suspicion Percival was lying to him about their monetary value but had no proof. Still, Newt was sure the seemingly modest home was worth much more than he thought, Percival seemed to be very wealthy.  

Newt spent a month unpacking his trunk, his whole life slowly coming back out and settled in his new home. Percival truly was wonderful, making room for Newt’s things and not seeming to care if Newt’s old traditional things looked out of place in the modern house. It was clear the alpha wanted Newt to feel welcomed and at home and it touched Newt to have such care given.

In return, Newt let Percival dress him essentially. He never thought much on fashion and it was clear Percival did. He wore very cutting trends and always looked very nice. Newt’s clothing was all masculine clothing rather than feminine. As an omega, the trend was for omega’s to dress more feminine and Newt didn’t mind. He wore Queenie’s gown that night just fine. Although he leaned away from corsets and Percival obliged once he realized that.

Within a month, Newt had an entirely new wardrobe of fine dresses and silky trousers and outfits more befitting an omega. He didn’t want to know the cost of it all, because he suspected it was outrageously high. But Mildred assured him Percival was very wise with money and that this was his one vice. So Newt would step into knickers, put a slip on and then cover it all with a light dress. Sometimes he wore trousers with a more feminine cute and a loose shirt and vest. Other times when they went out somewhere important, Newt was in a corset and fancy dress with a throw over his shoulders. Honestly, Mildred was his hero when it came to getting dressed, the house elf always knowing which thing went with what and how it went on proper. So many laces and straps.

Newt was not fond of going to events they learned very quickly. New York parties were similar to back home but with much more wealth and far more people crammed into the rooms it felt like. So many people wearing the latest thing and dripping with fine jewels. And all the arrogance to go with that.

Newt always felt out of place, even when he was in the latest trend and wearing fine necklaces and such. He looked the part but rarely felt it. Staying on Percival’s arm and wishing they would go home quickly.

There seemed to be some ridiculous notion as well, that he should mind his words.

“The British minister thinks it’ll blow over so I’m sure it will,” someone, an important man, was saying to Percival. A very large party with everyone talking, it sounded likes bees humming and Newt felt a bit trapped.

“Britain won’t be swayed so easily. The Ministry is under pressure not to give in to other countries of late. It feels too common since it’s in the papers all the time.”

“I’m sure,” the man chuckled, looking at Newt oddly, like he was saying nonsense.

“My brother works in the Ministry, he was saying just last week that it was an issue.”

“Bit of a talker,” the man smirked as he said to Percival and Percival’s hand landed on Newt’s arm, guiding him away. He offered a polite good evening the man as they abruptly left and Newt felt his face burn with humiliation that Percival was being nice to the rude man.

They exited the party, Percival saying goodbye politely to people as they made their way out and into the waiting carriage.

Newt wasn’t sure what to think.

“What an ass,” Percival growled. “’Bit of a talker’, no wonder he can’t keep a wife.”

Newt blinked, peering at his husband and Percival looked openly irate where he had seemed so calm a moment ago.

“He was rude,” he finally agreed and Percival huffed. He took Newt’s hand and pressed a kiss to his palm gently.

“I’m sorry, that he spoke to you like that. If he didn’t make key choices in how laws passed I would have told him to screw off.”

“He was essential,” Newt realized, understanding that Percival had been forced to be nice.

“Very. I’ve little care for politics but people talk if I never attend these sort of events.”

“And if they talk?” Newt inquired.

“Rumors start and then they lose confidence in me and then I’m struggling to keep my own aurors listening to me. The game of politics and government workings.”

“It sounds rather… horrid.”

Percival sighed out and kissed Newt’s hand once more.

“I play the role I have to from time to time, to be able to help my country improve.”

Newt nodded, sitting a bit closer and resting his head on Percival’s shoulder.

“You do your best, if you can face them I can do it too.”

“Thank you,” Percival replied, turning his head, his mouth brushing Newt’s brow.

Newt hummed in reply, feeling a bit warm once more but for a new reason. He dipped his head up and Percival leaned in, kissing Newt soundly.

While they were still learning one another, there were some things that seemed to work perfectly between them.

Sex was one of those things.

Newt found himself on the carriage seat with Percival kneeling on the floor between his spread legs, pushing his skirts up. Bare hands running along Newt’s stockings. From the heels of his feet all the way up to his centre.

Newt trembled, feeling the heat rise in him, always waking up and ravenous for this man.

Percival’s fingers running over his knickers, teasing Newt’s poor cock and making his hole wet. He seemed to know the perfect pressure and when to drag his fingernails along in a sudden scratching sensation that made Newt jerk.

“P-please,” he breathed and Percival smirked, looking so charming as he pressed a kiss to Newt’s stocking clad thigh.

Newt gripped his skirt to his hips tightly as his husband leaned in, his hot breath on Newt’s thighs. Chewing his lip, Newt felt the first light licks along his cock, Percival’s wet tongue soaking the light material of the knickers. 

“Stop teasing,” he accused, feeling those too light touches. Newt needed more.

Percival’s hands resting on his knees, trailing down his legs to the tips of his toes and then back up slowly, exploring all the skin they could through the stockings.

Newt tipped his hips up, poised on the carriage seat, struggling to stay there as it moved through the uneven streets, bouncing and jerking them.

Percival finally leaned in properly, Newt’s thighs on his shoulders as his husband licked at his hole through his knickers. The feeling muted by the underwear. Newt still shivered, so unused to sexual pleasure. He hadn’t even masturbated like most, had no real build up to the waves of tingling good that kept coming.

His thighs squeezed Percival’s head gently, holding on as his tongue kept working. His fingers found the top of Newt’s knickers and eased them down, Percival pulling back so he could slide them off.

As they shifted, a large bump sent Newt off the seat and right into Percival’s lap. Once they were sure they were both ok, they chuckled softly. Percival rolling his hips so his erection pressed against Newt’s backside.

With his knickers on one ankle, Newt managed to help arrange them, pushing his skirts up as Percival undid his trousers. Newt felt the first hot touch of his cock on his hole. He was sticky wet already and Percival sank in without any pain. Newt whimpering at the feeling of being opened up.

He loved that sensation.

There was nothing like it, of knowing he was connecting with another person in such an intimate and deep way. With his husband.

Newt settled in Percival’s lap facing him and leaned in to offer a kiss. Percival accepting so sweetly, kissing Newt soundly and making his heart pound with more than just lust. His lips trailed over Newt’s jaw and along his neck, kissing and licking at his skin as he hands cupped Newt’s backside and began to rock them.

Such a wonderful feeling, the friction inside him. Newt had thought once people put too much interest in sex but he knew now they were right too.

Hands splayed, Newt tried his best to hold up his weight on his hands as he lifted and drops his hip. The bumpy ride kept jarring them, Percival jolting up suddenly or Newt toppling down mid rise. It still felt amazing, Newt’s thighs closing on Percival’s hips as they moved together.

Reaching out, Newt hid in Percival’s neck as his moans began to grow. He didn’t want to be too loud and so muffled himself as his husband steadily fucked into him. He could hear the faint wet sound of their movement, of his slicked and eager body. Nuzzling close, Newt gasped against Percival’s jaw, whimpering as they moved faster now. Both their breathe caught and rushed together, seeming so loud in the carriage. 

“P-please,” he breathed out, everything rising so high so quickly. His body beginning to tense up and throb as Newt trembled.

Percival growled out, shoving roughly now, reaching for his own eager release as Newt came apart. He missed the feel of the knot a bit, but until his next heat they could only mate like this. Which was just fine with him. Newt gasping out, trying to catch his breath as Percival rammed into him, those last few lunges laced with desperation as his husband came apart inside Newt. Emptying his seed into him. Newt rather liked the idea for some reason, that he was taking a part of Percival into himself.

They toppled over together, Percival cushioning Newt’s head as the carriage came to an abrupt stop. It was magical driven without a driver so it waited patiently in front of their house. Percival kissing Newt lightly as he helped him redress and look proper once more. 

Newt smiled, feeling a bit shy still but steadily warming up to this wonderful man.

Percival left the carriage first and then held out a hand to help Newt out, his heels clicking on the pavement.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to look at a carriage the same,” Newt confessed and Percival grinned shamelessly in reply.


Newt’s life is different now but it’s far from terrible. He has a husband he learns more of each day and their relationship only grows.

But New York was still very strange to him.

And Newt was utterly bored.

He tries to focus on research but he’s used to working out in nature or with actual creatures.

“It loses its charm after a bit, sitting at a desk,” Newt sighs to the little bowtruckle on his shelf. It’s fake, made with a bit of magic to try and cheer himself up. He misses having live beasts around terribly. But America had firm laws forbidding them. Newt’s been trying to find creature sanctuaries in America to visit or even other magizoologists. But so far he’s been out of luck completely. He’ll keep trying of course, but the last few weeks have been….dreary. Newt gives up on making notes and slumps down onto the table with a sigh.

Honestly, who thought that married life would be full of sitting around and waiting for his husband to come home.

Newt eventually begins walking. Little jaunts around the block, nothing too far. Just for something to see and to hopefully find a park of some sort.

Each day he walks a bit further, always able to find his way back easily. Newt’s not one to get lost. He watches people interact, picks witches from muggles and just watches the world of New York. So fast and everyone on their way somewhere. He seems to stand out, strolling about as he pleases. He manages to find a small part to sit in. Only himself, an elderly muggle couple, and birds frequent it, but it’s still nice. He chats with the couple and feeds the birds, happy to just see animals again. Watching them wander the street and picking apart their pecking order and how they flock.

Newt realizes he must be very bored indeed if he’s trying to figure out the interworkings of pigeons.

Percival asks how he’s doing and Newt tells him fine. He truly is fine when Percival is around to keep him company. He wonders if his husband would know anyone who would be interested in magizoology or anything that hold’s Newt attention. If he might find some friends.

Theseus and his parents write often, they keep a steady back and forth that he’s very grateful for. He misses them dearly and is honestly happy to write them even if it feels like he has nothing to really write about.

He gets letters of other sorts as well.

Newt frowns at the name he doesn’t know and opens the letter up. The house is warded to prevent dangerous letters so Newt isn’t worried about that. It’s the words he fears and sure enough, it’s a love letter. Some alpha who met him at one of the events he went to with Percival. Newt doesn’t recall many of the people he meets, there are far too many. Important people making nice with his important husband. Percival usually whispers names if Newt has met them before, sometimes telling him a few facts about them. He never seems bothered to do so either, the darling man. 

For some rather ridiculous reason, Newt has found himself receiving love letters of all things. He is a happily married omega but people seem to focus on the omega aspect. They were rare in America and so sought after. More than a few people had mentioned that before and Newt would smile weakly and clutch his husband’s arm, Percival always having something clever to say thankfully.

Newt skims the letter and supposed it had everything to do with him being an omega and little with him. He sighed and crumpled it up, tossing it into the trash just like the rest of them. He had no interest in such things and Mildred had told him to just throw them out. Newt hadn’t mentioned it to Percival, it seemed silly to bring up. It wasn’t like Percival could tell people to stop sending them. Most already knew Newt was married to begin with. Such rude people.

Sighing out, Newt flicked the envelope into the trash as well, utterly bored now that he has responded to his family’s letters.


Little over five months from the day he arrived, Newt finally finds a magical beast.

While sitting in his little park, he sees the brown leaves at the base of a tree. They were swaying but not with the wind, off the timing a bit. Before he can think about it, Newt’s kneeling in the grass and coaxing a very sickly bowtruckle to his hands.

“Oh you poor dear, look at your leaves.”

Their faded and browned in some spots, the poor thing clearly dying. It tries to escape his hands a few times before seeming to give up entirely. Curling up into a sad little ball and shivering.

Newt carefully cups him close and hurried home, his fashion heels clicking on the sidewalk. Newt is used to them by now but in his rush nearly trips more than once. Kicking them off once he’s through the door of the house.

“What’s that?” Mildred appeared immediately, suspicions. Settle followed more nervous as Newt went to his observatory and set the poor bowtruckle down on a healthy plant in some sunlight.

He began pulling out his supplies, looking for some nice dried bugs to feed the poor thing.

“It’s a bowtruckle, and he’s very weak. Need’s care immediately.”

Newt peered into clear bottles and grinned when he found the right one.

“Some clean water, please,” he requested of the house elves and Settle disappeared obediently while Mildred remained, eyes narrowed.

“Creatures are not allowed,” she announced and Newt huffed.

“Yes, in normal cases. But this little fellow is dying, I have to help him.”

The house elf looked torn a moment, watching Settle reappear with cool water.

“This is my job, I assure you, it’s what I do. How would you feel if you couldn’t do your job?”

It’s a bit underhanded, house elves put a great deal of weight in their tasks and being able to do them. But it wins over Mildred. She sighs and then watched with Settle as Newt gently feeds and waters the weak bowtruckle.

“There you go, we’ll have you feeling better in no time,” Newt coaxed gently.

Having a creature invigorates Newt, he takes to helping the little fellow mend with great care.

He doesn’t mean to hide it.

It’s just, Newt realized the moment he told Percival about the bowtruckle, it would be taken away. Newt wants to think MACUSA had some well-trained people who would continue to care for the little creature and eventually see him returned to his proper home. But he’s not a fool. He knows that reality is far more grim and the likelihood of the creature not being destroyed is slim to none.

That’s why he ends up not mentioning the creature. Newt figures with some care and a safe place to recover the bowtruckle would be strong enough to be realized in a few months time. Not that long really. Newt would just keep him in the study he was given and if Percival noticed then he would tell him.

He wasn’t really lying.

Just not telling really.

It took Newt half a day to convince the house elves but eventually, they hesitantly agreed. It wasn’t too big of a thing and Newt knew they felt the pains of being a magical creature in a wizard’s world.

It brightens his days, to have a beast that needs help around. Newt takes to studying the fellow very closely, taking notes and making sketches to fill his book. He has information on bowtruckles already but now he lengthens it, properly dives into them and everything there is to be known about them.

Almost two weeks after finding his little friend, Newt meets another magical creature in need.

A niffler of all things, staved and weak.

Newt spots it in an alleyway during one of his walks and he rushes to scoop the weak beast up.

“Easy,” his whispers gently as the little things makes weak attempts to escape.

Newt hurries home and this time it feels more frantic, the little creature truly in a bad state. The bowtruckle had been ill but not nearly this far gone. But Newt had found many wild creatures over the years and managed to save many. He has enough experience to know the niffler is dehydrated terrible and needs liquids before anything else.

With an eyedropper and unfailing patience, he coaxes the beast to drink down water. Weak suckles as it tries to wiggle from his hold. It’s clearly had bad experiences with people but Newt stays calm and kind. Eventually, he gets as much water as he can into the little thing. He set out more and some soft food, setting it all up in a nice sealed wood box.

Newt spells his study room with great care, going over every nook and cranny and knowing that once the niffler is feeling better, he’ll likely get passed them all. Chewing his lip, Newt knows that the house is warded beyond his own magic as well. Ancient wards from when the house was first built, from the blood of the Graves family. To protect and prevent ill will. Newt’s not entirely certain how stealing plays into that. Will the wards let the house be robbed or will they kill the poor creature? It worries him enough that Newt ends up in the library looking through the old family books, trying to pull up enough history to have an idea.

“How was your day?” Percival’s voice made Newt jump hard and he nearly dropped the book he was holding as he whirls around.

“I’m sorry,” Newt says without thinking. He usually met Percival at the door when he came home each day. Like a proper omega would.

“For what?” Percival honestly looks a bit perplexed and Newt looks at the floor.

“Uh, I was, that is, I was told I should meet you at the door each day,” Newt confessed.

“Nonsense, that’s a silly notion, you’re not my slave.”

Newt agrees hesitantly.

“Who suggested that?”

“I read it somewhere,” Newt offers, feeling a bit bad for the lie. In reality, Percival’s sister, Elizabeth, had mentioned it. She’d given Newt a few books on omega behaviours as well so in a roundabout way, it was a sort of truth.

Omegas were supposed to be docile and waiting for their alpha always, eager to serve. It did sound a bit silly, but Newt wanted to do well in America, to do well with this alpha.

“Well, it’s no worry. I’d rather you be caught up reading than bored enough to be waiting for me.”

Newt winced at how well Percival seemed to understand him.

“Dinner should be about ready,” Newt suggested and Percival smiled, gesturing for Newt to lead the way. Most omegas were good cooks and Newt thought he was alright at it. But the house elves prepared far better meals than anything he knew.

Another shortcoming.

But Percival truly seemed to fine with that, not bothered at all. 

Newt paused when he passed the man, face flushing as he leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to Percival’s cheek in greeting. The man froze a moment, blinking.

“My mum liked to greet my father like that….is that ok?”

“Very much,” Percival reassured with a warm smile and Newt felt that familiar stirring in his body when the man smiled at him like that. At least in sex, Newt seemed to be a proper omega.

Newt felt bad about not mentioning the creatures in his care.

But America had such strict rules about them and Percival was a auror, it was his job to uphold the law. It wouldn’t be fair of Newt to ask him to look the other way for him.

It was for the best he reasoned to himself, to keep quiet about it all.


So Newt spent his days coaxing both creatures back into good health, the bowtruckle eager while the niffler a stubborn little thing at every turn.

Newt read up on nifflers and studied his new patient. He took notes and did sketches of him, the creature glaring up from his box.

“Well, I imagine when you’re feeling better you’ll be gone, so I best get a few proper representations. You’re representing your species you know.”

The niffler seemed unimpressed.

The click of the front door made him jerk and scramble. When he first arrived time seemed to crawl by so slowly and now with his visitors, it seemed to fly so fast. Newt scrambled to hide his creatures, ushering the bowtruckle onto a tree to blend in and putting the lid back over the niffler’s box. They preferred the dark to the light when resting so he didn’t worry on the creature, knowing he was rather comfy where he was.

“Hello,” Newt greeted hastily, pushing up from his desk to leave his study and meet Percival in the doorway. He reached over to kiss his cheek, their standard greeting now.

“How was work?” Newt inquired, taking Percival’s arm and guiding him from the study.

“Busy, but I have something for you,” Percival let Newt to the front door where a large crate waited.

Blinking at it, Newt glanced at his husband and then approached curiously. It was up to his knees and a few feet in length, the end of the one side dropped with a bit of magic and a soft whine came forth.

Immediately intrigued, Newt feel to his knees and carefully peered down. A scared crup puppy looked back at him.

“Oh darling,” Newt breathed and reached out, letting the canine sniff his fingers before petting him lightly. The beast turned quickly, fear turning into interest and he left the box to approach Newt. Eager to make friends now, sniffing at him.

“Hello, oh hello,” he chuckled as the beast tried to climb up his chest, tails wagging eagerly.

“I know you missed your creatures,” Percival offered and Newt was glad he was looking down at the beast so Percival couldn’t see him cringe. Guilt sweeping through him as he gathered the pup up. It was big but not so big he couldn’t heft the dear up. He stood and turned to smile at his husband.

“Thank you, this is lovely, he or she is lovely.”

“I’m glad, I wasn’t sure if you’d want him.” He seemed a tad unsure which was unusual for him. Percival was usually so certain.

Newt snuggled the crup close to show he did indeed want him.

“It’s a perfect gift, thank you, Percival. I truly mean that” he reassured and the man smiled finally.

Newt leaned up to kiss him and what was supposed to be a quick touch turned lingering. The crup whining at Newt was kissed breathless, his body coiling with arousal as his face flushed.

Once the crup was fed, they settled it in a small bed on the floor beside their own bed. Newt patting his soft head as the beast sighed out, content with a warm bed and full belly.

Percival’s arm coiled around Newt’s waist, tugging him onto the bed and he flushed but went eagerly, lying on his back as Percival’s clever hands pushed Newt’s sleeping shirt up around his hips.

They made love languidly, Percival sinking into Newt with no rush. Taking their time to work each other up. Faces pressed close it felt so intimate to Newt. Sharing not only hungry kisses but also gently more loving ones.

He whimpered as Percival took him, kissing and gently nipping at Newt’s neck as he sank in deep. It felt so wonderful right, to connect with someone like this.

Afterwards, Newt curled up against Percival, not feeling so awkward about prolonged touching. It felt good now, Percival warm and solid against him. A simple creature comfort that had Newt falling asleep, feeling utterly content and safe.


Percival’s sister and brother visit a few times a month. Their nice enough people but very formal. Newt finds Percival the same when they’re all together, he holds back a bit. Not callously, more self-conscious perhaps. It seems so odd to Newt, who was raised close with his brother, they share a very strong bond. He wonders how the three siblings grew up together without becoming close. But Newt doesn’t think less of them for it, doing his best to be polite with his husband’s siblings.

It feels like each time Newt meets someone it all very formal. It was the same at home he supposes. But Newt was also raised in a village with others, growing up seemed to ease a great deal of the formality. He spoke casually with Tina and Queenie often. Now he’s somewhere new and Newt finds himself lonesome even as he smiles and chats with Percival’s sister.

“Have you read the newest poetry book from the Smither brothers?” Morgan inquires lightly and Newt falters a bit. There having dinner and Percival is talking to his brother about business.

“I haven’t, I don’t read a great deal of poetry I’m afraid.”

Morgan peers at him curiously.

“Poetry is very popular, more so among omegas, I’ve been told. Might I ask more about your hobbies? Do you do embroidery or some arts?”

“I…Not overly much. I usually do my work, with magical creatures. Research and such.”

Morgan doesn’t say anything but Newt can sense an undercurrent of disapproval almost.

“Do you ever draw? Most researchers document through such methods.”

“I do,” Newt realizes. “In that, I draw quite a bit.”

Morgan nods her head pleased.

“You’re new to being a omega but I’m sure you’ll find that the omega traits have been with you all along.”

Her words seem like a praise but Newt doesn’t see them as such. Simply pointing out another way Newt seems to be mucking up somehow.

“Your wardrobe is certainly lovely as well,” she adds, clearly trying to be nice.

“Thank you, I…well Percival picked most of it.”

Newt glances at the man and he’s watching them, his conversation with his brother done.

“Which is perfectly fine, many alpha’s dress their omegas,” Morgan offers. She means well, Newt knows that, but she makes him sound like a pet. Like something to be kept instead of a person in his own right. It seems to be a common standard when people talk of omegas.

“Newt is far from a common omega, and I’m glad for it,” Percival declares lightly, smiling at Newt who feels grateful for his words. Of all the people in America, Percival seems to be the one who doesn’t expect Newt to fall into these expected behaviours. He sees Newt as a person before an omega and Newt is so utterly appreciative for that. 


“I’m sorry if my sister was pressing you tonight,” Percival says as they prepare for bed. Newt’s tugging off his dress, something a bit formal. Usually he wears trousers and shirts around the house but when others come around he dresses up a bit more. It reflects on Percival; otherwise Newt wouldn’t care. He doesn’t mind the clothing either, gender never felt solid for him and dresses are comfortable.

“It’s fine, she was trying to be nice.”

Percival nods. “She is trying, she’s used to being around alphas and asked me for advice on what to talk to you about tonight.”

“What did you say?”

“I told her to try simple topics, hobbies and such, I didn’t think she would equate that to omega hobbies.”

“It’s fine,” Newt repeats. “Many people are surprised to hear I’m not the norm.”

“There is no true norm,” Percival protests, he comes up behind Newt, reaching out to help him undo the buttons along the back of the dress. The house elves had helped him in. Newt could fetch his wand to do it but he lets Percival undo them one by one. Warm hands brushing his bare skin.

“Every person is an individual and the idea that omega’s must have small selection of hobbies or interest is ridiculous.”

Newt feels a bit relieved despite himself.

“I thought so too but I didn’t want to argue.”

“It would be against the whole world it feels like some days,” Percival grumbles and holds the dress so Newt can pull it up and over his body. He has on a light shift that comes off as well, and then stockings are all that’s left.

Newt wiggles his toes as Percival kneels without prompting, warn hands running along Newt’s thigh as he slid fingers under the thigh high stocking and began to roll it down Newt’s leg.

He was still behind Newt, his mouth running along the curve of Newt’s backside. He had sheer knickers on, most of underwear very lacy and fine. Percival had selected it all. But it was also comfortable and Newt sighed out as Percival’s hands cupped his heel and slid the stocking off.

“Are your feet sore?”

“A bit,” Newt replied, still not used to heels entirely. Even for a simple dinner at home, they left his toes aching.

Percival hums in reply and eases the other stocking off. He kisses Newt’s thigh and a chair gets up and walks over to them. Newt sinks down at Percival guides him, sitting on the chair as the man took his foot into his hands and began to rub the pain away.

“Thank you,” Newt sighed out, Percival had very talented hands and Newt was sure he could only wear heels on his feet because the man would rub his feet afterwards. So attentive to Newt in that way.

Strong fingers worked each foot over, digging into the perfect spots until Newt was leaning back in the chair and biting his lip. It felt wonderful.

His eyes opened up, he hadn’t realized he had closed them. Percival was watching his hands work intently, focused on his task.

Honestly, Newt was certain America would have been terrible if not for the alpha. He made it worth this change, the journey that was lonely at times.

Newt reached out and cupped the man’s face, bringing Percival’s attention to him.

“Thank you,” he said again, taking his foot back so he could lean in and kiss his husband sweetly.

“Shall we?” Percival breathed, glancing at the bed in question. Newt nodded, feeling a bit giddy as sexual hunger woke inside him. His thighs feeling sensitive as he took Percival’s hand and led him to their bed. Trading kisses as he pulled at Percival’s undershirt, the man still wearing that and his trousers.

Newt shivered in anticipation as his alpha stripped down. At least in sex he did well, seemed to react perfectly to his alpha. Newt reached out and Percival went obediently.

They were well matched in this.


Newt finds another bowtruckle near the park. He walks his crup, Frank, often. The canine seeming excited to sniff the entire city. They had their routes and Newt likes to stop in the park still.

There in the bushes is a sickly bowtruckle, seeming near dead as the poor niffler was. Newt gathers the beast gently to his chest, inspecting his brown dried leaves and thin off colour body.

“We have to find it,” someone says and Newt is hiding the creature away immediately, slipping into his pocket carefully. Frank is sniffing the bushes and Newt gives him his attention as he listens. Two men are walking around the small park, clearly looking for something.

“They’re hard to keep alive, the boss will pissed if another one get’s lost.”

Newt watches Frank and wonders.

He should go home, he knows he should.

“A-Are you looking for something?” He asks one of the men when they walk close to him. He smiles weakly and tries to seem normal. “Did you lose a pet?”

The man grumbles a low negative and they move on, but Newt is almost certain they’re looking for the quivering bowtruckle in his pocket.

He goes home once they leave down the back street, making note of the street sign. Newt takes the poor creature home and immediately begins to work on healing him. This little one is far sicklier however. Not able to drink or eat anything it seems. Newt does his best but after a few hours, the poor think passes.

Newt sits at his desk, staring down at the little body and despairing.

Something is going on clearly. The way those men talked made it obvious. Did they have more creatures being mistreated?

Frank puts his head on Newt’s lap and he pets him absently, his mind turning quickly. Newt knows he should logically tell Percival and let him deal with it as a auror. But Newt also knows that magical creatures weren’t a priority to MACUSA. Perhaps having them illegally would be a cause for concern but making sure they were safe would certainly not be.  

How many other creatures would die?

Perhaps Newt could look into the matter himself a bit more, to find the information needed for aurors to act quickly. A suspicion wouldn’t be rushed but if Newt could say for certain they had illegal creatures perhaps Percival could help them. Biting his lip, Newt poured over what he knew and what would be the best way to move forward.

Telling Percival would mean coming clean about the creatures he had in his care. The healthy bowtruckle and the stubborn niffler still healing. What would happen to them? Would Percival be able to protect them? Would he even wish too?

Newt just needed a little more information really.

A little more time.

He wasn’t ready for the house to go back to the dull quite it used to be. For as annoying as it was to chase the niffler around the house, it was also something to do. It was a bit fun and Newt was learning so much about nifflers and how to handle them. He still had so much to learn, he couldn’t just stop before he was done.

A bit more time, he decided.


The next day Newt went walking down the street he had seen the men go down. It was a magical area and so Newt and Frank walked down the streets. A bit more run down and the shops inclined towards the darker arts but not an outright evil place.

Newt made motes to himself of the shops and peered around for any clues of creatures. He ducked into a few shops and while the wares were a bit disturbing, dark potion ingredients especially, there were no signs of live creatures. 

Stopping at a small café, Newt sat on the small outdoor area with his crup and sipped tea as he watched for any signs of the men from yesterday or anything suspicious at all.

He was never good at reading people, but Newt was observant enough. He made a point to come back each day, sipping tea and watching patiently. He learned which shops had more customers, which ones had people carrying packages and which had them coming out with nothing visible. Which people looked suspicious and which shops replenished their creature ingredients quickest. Which looked the more fresh, who had wares in the back that only a few customers were given access. Newt made notes in a little book, pretending to write poetry in the front as a cover. He would buy small things from the shops as well, common ingredients for potions and things he could use in everyday life.

Newt spent two weeks with this routine. His mornings tending to the creatures in his care, these lunches of observing, and then going home to mind the creatures and do some research work and then rushing to be presentable for when Percival came home.   

“Have you been bored? At home all day as you are?” Percival asked one night and Newt smiled at his thoughtfulness.

“I’m fine, I keep myself busy. Frank is a wonderful companion as well,” Newt answered lightly. The crup had a bed on the floor and was curled up sleeping already. He really was a delightful beast. Very calm and composed, if a bit scared at times. But he had no aggression for the niffler, which most canines were inclined to chase.

Newt seemed to jinx himself with such thoughts.

Because the next afternoon, Frank took after Walter, the niffler. Newt chasing them both through the house, Percival’s pristine library room being ruined, things crashing over, the house elves screaming as Newt chased the crup chasing the niffler.

“Frank, stop this instant!” He cried out but the beast refused, locked on the niffler for some reason. Walter chose to jump onto the desk and Newt cried out in horror as he knocked over a ink bottle.

“Enough!” Newt pulled his wand and petrified both the beasts. “Look at this mess! Percival will be home soon,” he despaired.

The beasts were sent back to his observatory study while Newt and the house elves scrambled to clean up. Fixing the broken vases and putting the books knocked over back in place. Newt scrambled to sop up the ink and safe the very fancy looking wood desk. He wipes the ink on his shirt absently and sighed out in relief as he managed a cleaning spell that seemed to get every last bit.

“Dinner!” Mildred wailed out and disappeared. Settle following her quickly. Newt managed the rest of the library on his own and then sprinted up the stairs to change quickly. His shirt and undershirt utterly ruined with the ink stain. Newt hoped the house elves knew a spell to remove it in order to save it. He really didn’t need to be ruining his clothing.

Newt pulled on a fresh shirt and did it up hastily as he headed back downstairs.

“Hello,” he offered as Percival walked through the door, smiling up at him as Newt descended the last few steps and greeted him with a kiss.

“How was your day?” His husband asked and Newt glanced at the library, which looked fine, not as if it had been ripped apart moments before.

“The usual,” Newt replied and Percival’s smile seemed a bit off for a moment.

“Your button,” he pointed out and Newt blinked, realizing he had done his shirt up wrong, an extra button at the top.

“Sorry,” he flushed in embarrassment, hurrying to undo his shirt and fix it. “I spilled ink so I changed,” he explained quickly, glancing away at the white lie.

Percival didn’t seem to mind Newt’s clumsy behaviour, that night they laid together and Newt’s husband was intent on him.

Pounding into Newt, the omega laid out on his back with his alpha over him, thighs spread in welcome. Percival stared down at him, watching Newt as he whimpered at every thrust.

He leaned down suddenly, buried deep as he pressed a fervent kiss to Newt’s mouth. He answered happily, kissing back as Percival pulled back a bit and ran a hand through Newt’s hair.

Newt smiled up at him, pressing close as his husband rocked back and forth inside him, working them both up and over that wonderful line. Newt shivering as he was spilled in as he clenched down and came himself.

Percival pulled out a moment after, still panting a bit as he rolled onto his back beside Newt. His hand reached for Newt’s and their fingers interlaced as Newt turned to pressed his face to the man’s shoulder. His heart was still pounding and Newt thought to himself that he was rather in love with his husband, which this loving intimacy they were developing steadily.


Newt took Frank for his walk and sat in the café, watching a large truck pull into an alleyway. It had been to the shop a few times already. A loud squawk echoed and a few people looked but went on when nothing else came. But Newt knew the sound immediately.

A diricawl for certain.

Walking Frank, Newt glanced around before slipping down the alleyway, letting the crup sniff around as a excuse if he was caught. Newt watched the loading truck and wizards unloading it. Large crates into the back door of a potions shop Newt had marked as suspicious.

One of the crates suddenly jerked, snarling, something alive inside. Newt turned away as the wizards looked around but he knew he was seen. He led Frank away and walked down the streets calmly, even when he noted he was being followed. His modest heels clicked along the street. Newt was dressed as a omega, trim coat, skirt and stockings. He found people seemed to think he was weak or dim when he dressed up as such. So he made a point to dress as such when he went snooping around.

When he turned a corner and was out of sight of whoever was trailing after him, he apparated down the street and ducked into the nearest shop.

“No animals allowed,” The woman sitting just passed the door told him and Newt blinked, looking around. The shop was more of a hotel he realized. A tavern just in the doors but stairs leading to rooms.

“My apologies, I’m a bit lost,” he offered.

“Sure, lots of people get ‘lost’ and end up here,” she replied with a smirk. Newt peered at her, not understand at all.

“What are you looking for sweetheart? A nice big alpha? We’ve got a few, Charles isn’t busy,” she pointed at an attractive looking man sitting at the bar. He was watching them and winked when Newt looked. Suddenly, Newt realized where he was. Various men and women dressed seductively chatting with guests.

It was a brothel.

Face turning crimson Newt barely stuttered a reply as he backed out hastily. The woman laughing at him as he rushed to get out of the building. No one was looking around on the street and Newt hurried home, taking a long winding path. But he wasn’t being followed so he eventually went home. He felt much better once he was in the house, still rather embarrassed to have walked into a brothel of all places.

Newt got home and settled his nerves, minding his creatures and writing a few notes about what he had seen. It was clear now which shop was collecting magical creatures illegally, Newt just needed some way to prove that before he went to Percival for help. The hard part was how to prove such a thing? He did have two creatures but Newt didn’t think that would be enough. He needed to find a way to get a creature from the shop.

Perhaps if he offered to pay a great amount, asked around for magical creatures. It did make sense in a way, he was a magizoologist. Perhaps he could lure someone into offering, say he knew they had them and he wanted to purchase one. That would give him the proof he needed, Percival would be able to arrest quickly after that.

Newt pondered over various ideas, trying to think of the best possible way to go about this. To help the creatures but also not recklessly endanger himself.

The door clicked when Percival same home and Newt startled out of his thoughts. He hastily tidied his workplace, expecting Percival to come find him.

Newt frowned when the alpha didn’t appear right away.

Leaving his desk, Newt made sure the niffler and bowtruckle were settled and then when searching. Percival wasn’t in the library of common rooms. Newt beginning to worry as he failed to locate his husband.

He finally found Percival upstairs in their bedroom. Settled on the edge of the bed and looked distinctly unhappy.

“Is everything alright?” Newt asked immediately, worried. Had something happened at work? Percival had come home carrying the wright of being a auror and all they saw a few times before.

“I don’t know,” Percival replied, frowning at a slip of paper in his hands. He didn’t look up at Newt which seemed odd. He entered the room, concern growing with Percival’s odd behaviour.

“Has something happened?” Something with his siblings perhaps?

“Are you happy here? In America, with me?” The man asked abruptly and Newt blinked.

“I am,” he replied immediately, a bit surprised to realize how true it was. It had been weeks since he ached for home.

“I’ve tried my best, to give you everything I thought you wished, to keep the parts of me that might be… undesirable away.”

“Undesirable?” Newt echoed, honestly perplexed with Percival’s behaviours and words, he looked so disheartened by something. But Newt was so bad at reading people correctly, Percival had been a dear about being blunt and Newt appreciated it. It took out a lot of the guesswork for him and helped him know what was going on between them. Newt had thought everything was going well, had he messed this up somehow? 

“I know I have perverse tastes, but I don’t act on them.”


Newt was genuinely baffled.

It bothered him that Percival wasn’t looking at him. He came up to the man and when Percival failed to look up, Newt knelt so he could look up at his husband. Percival looked deeply upset, more emotional than Newt had seen him before.

“What’s wrong?” He pressed, peering up at the alpha and wanting to wipe away the ache he could see there. Wanting Percival to be smiling contently.

“Are you seeing someone?”

Newt stared a moment, mouth opening and closing soundlessly. Percival watched him and didn’t offer anything else, looking dejected as Newt flustered.

“I…I’m not…I would never...I…What?”

“There aren’t many other conclusions.” Percival finally said and offered Newt the papers he was holding. Newt blinked, looking at a crumpled letter addressed to him and pictures of him at the café and brothel.

“You think… you think I would be unfaithful?” Newt asked, utterly hurt.

Percival blinked, seeming to shake off his miserable air at Newt’s tears.

“What am I supposed to think? You’re clearly hiding something from me. You don’t want me in your study and when I go you have these letters. You’ve been lying. You’re a terrible liar by the way. Always looking off to the side guiltily when you do it. You’re going out constantly and pretending to be home all day, you’ve come to meet me at the door hastily redressing.”

“I spilled ink,” Newt muttered.

“Almost four times in a row?”

Newt blinked. He took a moment, staring at Percival and then down at the pictures again.

“Did…. Did you follow me and take pictures?”

“I wanted…I wanted to be sure, a charm followed you.”

“Sure I was unfaithful.”

“You went into a brothel.”

“With my dog!” Newt surprised himself with how loud his voice was suddenly. Percival seemed just as startled. “Who would ever go into a brothel with their pet? I was lost, I had no idea it was a brothel!”

Newt dropped the pictures and stood up, feeling ire begin to work its way through him.

“I can’t believe this,” he breathed as he paced the room. “Here I think we’re doing so well and we’re building a wonderful marriage and this whole time you imagine I’m stepping out on you.”

“I didn’t want to think that,” Percival defended, standing up and frowning fiercely but Newt was too worked up to be intimidated.

“That’s what you obviously concluded. That I’m some sort of sex-crazed s-slut! Gods, we have sex almost every night and you think I’m running around having more? That I could just…let some stranger touch me like that? Is that what you think of me?”

Newt stopped and turned to watch Percival, waiting for him to answer.

The man looked distinctly unnerved and a bit confused, trying to cover it with a frown. 

“We did meet and mate within a few hours time…”

“I was in heat!” Newt defended, feeling humiliation roll through him. “You…are not the man I thought you were.”

Stomping over to the wardrobe, Newt summoned his trunk with a wave of his hand and began to shove clothing into it.

“What are you doing?”

“Going home. I’m not going to stand here and listen to you toss ridiculous notions at me, to demean me. How could you think such things of me? It’s like you don’t know me at all.” Newt huffed, holding on to the anger in his chest. It was better to focus on it rather than the hurt, than the tears that wanted to come pouring down. Newt wasn’t one for emotions like this normally but he felt so thrown, he had thought they were doing so well. 

“Newt, stop,” Percival came over to him and Newt jerked to avoid his touch, fighting the tears much harder now.

“Absolutely not.” He replied curtly, finally using a pull of strong emotion driven magic to just yank everything into his trunk. He hurried passed Percival and took the stairs two at a time, his trunk thumping with his magic reacting poorly to his anxious state.

“What’s wrong?” Mildred asked, looking frantic at the sight of Newt’s case.

“Percival thinks I’m a whore.”

“I didn’t say that,” he called after them, following Newt to his study and seeming utterly perplexed and unsure how to proceed.


Let him be the one guessing how to behave. Newt had spent months watching his every step, trying to be the perfect omega for this man, trying to be good enough.

Frank whined, sensing the excitement in the air and watching his owners.

“I told you not to hide things!” Mildred cried out, looking about to panic completely. “Hiding things is never good!”

“Yes well, hiding an injured creature and being a whore are two very different things,” Newt explained tightly as he yanked his drawers open and dumped his notebooks into his trunk.

“Injured creature?” Percival stood in the doorway, eyes looking around for it. “Newt please stop; you can’t just cross the ocean on a whim.”

“I most certainly can, my father assured me if I ever wished to come home I always could.”

That seemed to bring the alpha up short.

“When did he tell you that?”

“When I left. In case our marriage failed, which it clearly has.” Newt’s tone was cold now, his body beginning to feel numb to everything. It was easy to control himself that way.

“It hasn’t failed. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have accused of such things. But you must understand how it seemed to me.”

“No,” Newt replied tightly, wiping tears before they fell. “You saw something unusual and jumped to conclusions. There was absolutely nothing to suggest anything sexual.”

“You had love letters,” Percival growled and Newt snapped his head to glare back. He might be timid at times but he wasn’t going to cowed.

“I get them all the time, from those dreadful parties you take me too! I just throw them all away. They’re not for me, not really. They’re for some imaginary omega that doesn’t exist. Why were you even looking at my trash for Merlin's sake?”

Percival seemed startled that Newt would snap back, he had tried so hard to play into the role of gentle omega around this man. But Newt had no interest in playing empty roles anymore. 

“You were always changing!”

“I’m clumsy!” Newt doubted he had ever risen his voice before but it did it on its own now.

“I’m sorry that I’m not the perfect omega you were expecting, not some graceful waif that never trips or spills ink or wipes it on their shirt absently. Clearly I’m not the sort you were hoping for.”

Newt blinked furiously at his tears, trying to keep his face from crumbling. But the anger was fading and the pain was raw and aching. To think he had thought they were doing so well. He had honestly thought that. Had mused the other day how much he loved the man in front of him.  

“Newt,” Percival sounded raw himself, looking at Newt and seeming so perplexed and sad.

“Stop packing, you can’t just up and leave.”

“Don’t tell me what I can do, Percival Graves.” Newt growled out, feeling so wildly out of control but also so dreadfully aching. “You don’t own me.”

“I’m sorry,” Percival held his hands up in surrender, creeping closer as Newt fumbled to empty his desk. He tried to ignore the alpha but Newt could see Percival’s features struggling to remain passive, he was fighting… a smile?

“Are you laughing at me?” He demanded incredulously.

“No, no, I’m not,” Percival rushed to say, kneeling down beside Newt’s chair. Seeming to submit down to Newt. 

“I’m just…I’m very glad you’re not cheating on me. I was…I was heartbroken. I loved you so much so fast and I thought you didn’t return it.”

“Utter nonsense,” Newt huffed. Glaring at Percival’s hand as it touched his knee carefully. 

“I see that now. I was wrong and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to jump to such atrocious conclusions. I just…I knew something was wrong and my mind immediately rushed to the worse deduction.”

Newt frowned.

“The worst? Percival what if I was a murder of some sort, going out and killing people?”

“The worst,” Percival insisted. “To lose someone so important, to know you wanted someone else. That I wasn’t enough.”

“Do you think I’m incapable of being a murder?” Newt questioned suspiciously.

“Of course not.”

“I’m very livid at you right now.”

Percival nodded his head in quick agreement.

 “I’m very sorry for that, for hurting you like this. I should have known better. I let my fears take over my reasoning.”

Newt wanted to remain angry but he had never been one to hold onto such things. Still, he was very much hurt.

Percival seemed to see that, his smile fading as he reached out and cupped Newt’s cheek, thumb wiping away tears.

“I’m so sorry, I truly should have had more faith. I just…I love you so much, it throws me off, makes me scared to lose you.”  

“Accusing me is not the way to keep me with you,” Newt grumbled.

“No, it really isn’t. I thought I would go mad, not knowing. I should have been more level-headed, should have asked before I thought such things.”

“You really should have,” Newt agreed.

“I’m sorry,” Percival repeated, pressing a kiss to Newt’s hand as he took it, tangling their fingers. Newt stared at them and thought not long ago he had admired the same sight.

“Will you explain this to me then, you’ve found a hurt beast?” Percival implored.

Newt nodded, glancing at the tree the bowtruckle was hiding on and the crate he kept the niffler in. It was important someone official knew, that the illegal shop be closed and whatever creatures they had be rescued. 

“I found a few creatures in dreadful shape and then I tracked them to the illegal operation in a potion shop by the café I visit. I’ve been trying to figure out how to prove they have them before telling you.”

Percival looked distinctly alarmed with that news.

“Illegal operation? Newt this is dangerous.”

He glared at his husband.

“Yes. I figured that out,” he replied a touch sharply.

“I’m not, I’m not dismissing you, but criminals wouldn’t hesitate to harm you.”

“Hence the criminal aspect?”

Percival huffed out, looking frustrated but unwilling to push Newt right then. Wise man.

“I’ve been keeping track,” Newt reached for his little book, giving it to Percival, all his notes on observing and tracking the creatures. “Most people assume I’m some bored soul writing poetry at the cafe.”

Newt watched his husband flip through a few pages.

“These, are very precise.”

“Well, it’s my job. I’m a researcher Percival. I’ve spent years working on learning to observe creatures and record details.” Newt had also worked for years with creatures and learning their behaviours. Theseus had always said Newt was a born observer, that he had such a keen eye. Newt supposed it was true in some sense, Percival seemed to think so looking over his notes. 

“You’re also barely twenty.”

“What does that mean?”

Percival blinked, seeming to catch Newt’s warning tone.

“You’re young is all. I wouldn’t expect anyone to have this much skill at your age.”

Newt decided he wasn’t trying to insult him, intentional or not.

“Because twenty-nine is the age of all knowing?” Newt supposed and Percival huffed.

“True enough. I’m sorry, dear, I’m not trying to be rude.”

“Don’t forget I wasn't raised an omega. I was raised a beta man, taught to prepare for a career. Most omegas know what they are by fourteen or a few years more. I wasn’t expected to present as an omega either. I was taught to be able to work and earn my own keep, not marry into wealth. I’m not good at poetry but I do have skill sets.”

“As you have proven,” Percival agreed. His warm hand still holding onto Newt’s tightly.


Dinner was a cautious affair, Percival asking more questions about the creatures and potion shop, being careful not to push Newt. His emotions were still riled; Newt was still hurt with Percival’s accusations. But he knew he would forgive the man for it, for making such a mistake but also admitting to it once he learned the truth. Still, his heart ached. Newt could feel himself going back and forth between emotions, unable to seem to control it. 

It had been the first time Percival had said he loved him, Newt realized. During a fight, his husband had properly told him he loved him. Part of Newt was happy to hear it finally but also sad this was when it occurred. 


The days drifted by carefully, like a fine spun glass. Everything feeling distinctly delicate. Percival promised to report the illegal creature smuggling at work and look into it personally. After nearly being caught, Newt wasn’t foolish enough to go back to the area but he did worry about those poor creatures.

Life at home was also very careful, Newt taking time to let his heart thaw out and decided if it could forgive Percival properly. Newt had never liked resentment, if he forgave, he had to mean it properly.

Frank whined, putting his head on Newt’s lap, the two curled up on the couch together. Newt’s attempts at reading long lost.

“What do you think?” He asked the crup. “Marriage is no light thing, nothing to scoff at. But we did rush so fast. Didn’t even court properly.”

Newt sighed, wishing his emotions would simply decide.

“It would be silly to ruin something over a single fight, couple fight, don’t they? Many people are married and very unhappy but unable to leave. I should be grateful in a sense, I do care for Percival a great deal.”

Newt supposed that was what it came down to.


Percival had said he loved Newt and there was no doubt in Newt he loved the man in return. But was the depth enough? Would it only grow stronger with time or brittle?

Percival had been trying hard to make up for his mistake in various ways, working hard to be charming and not pushing when Newt felt no urge to have sex. He brought small thoughtful gifts home each day and had also kept quiet about the beasts in the house. Both Newt’s niffler and bowtruckle were still staying with him. Percival had been rather leery of them both but hadn’t mentioned them leaving. Newt had a suspicion his husband hadn’t reported them yet. Percival seemed to be waiting for something work-related before he admitted they had anything in their house. Magical creatures were illegal but properly document and controlled ‘pets’ within homes were allowed to a certain degree. Percival had promised to submit the paperwork and see if Newt could keep his creatures. Neither of them seemed inclined to leave, even healed up. Both liked the comforts of the house and growing to trust Newt more and more. 

Either way Newt would keep quiet on the issue, if only to keep the creature longer. He had dearly missed working with them.

His life wasn’t anything he had expected or planned but it wasn’t bad. It would be foolish to give up so quickly. To forfeit what he felt for Percival without trying.

But then, there was one other thing Newt needed to investigate.


“What about you is perverse?” He finally made himself ask one night. It had been a week since their fight and a week since they had sex, the longest since they had met. Percival froze in pulling the blanket up around his shoulder.

“I…what?” He tried to play the fool.

Newt puffed out a breath, not mislead at all.

“You said you have perversions, but you never acted on them, what did you mean?”

“I just… surely you realized something was off?” Percival looked distinctly uncomfortable. Newt was laid out his side watching him, head on his pillow. His heart was set on forgiving now and he felt more willing to talk to Percival properly. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Newt offered after a moment.

“It’s humiliating to admit.”

Newt watched him, intensely curious about what this was all about but also not wanting to push the poor man. They had just fought and were still mending, Newt supposed this could wait longer, despite his inquisitiveness.

“Do you…are you happy with us? With what we do in our marriage bed?” Newt asked, needing to know that much at least.

Percival nodded, turning to look at Newt properly, rolling onto his side, mirroring Newt’s position to face him. 

“I adore our bedroom time, there is no fault there,” he reassured and seemed to truly mean it.

Newt felt relieved, he had always thought they had rather spectacular sex. He worried a bit that he might be wrong and not realize it. 

“But, you have a particular interest?” Newt asked. He had heard of such things before, sexual deviants, sexual play and specific interests. It was scandalous to hear about but Newt supposed in bedrooms with a married couple, it wasn’t so shameful.

Percival rolled onto his back and covered his eyes with a hand. Newt opened his mouth to tell him not to worry, to keep his secrets as he pleased.

“I like feet.”

Newt closed his mouth, his teeth clicking.

“…Feet?” Newt mind went over the word in his mind and he quickly saw the correlation in their previous sexual encounters. He thought of all the times Percival had found reasons to touch his feet, sometimes right before or during sex.


Percival sighed out, seeming uncomfortable for once.

“I don’t know, I couldn’t tell you why or how, only that I find that part of a body very appealing.

Newt pushed the blanket down and lifted his foot up to peer at it curiously.

It was just a foot, a slender thing with his toes wiggling at the end.


“Truly.” Percival agreed quietly, head tipped to watch Newt’s foot. “It’s odd, I know. A strange thing, a perversion.”

“I’ve always thought of perversions as something with a more negative aspect, something wrong or hurtful. I’d hardly see liking feet as such. Is this why you brought me so many shoes?”

Newt blinked at the realization and Percival’s ears flushed red, caught. He looked charming like that, all flustered for once, a new side to Newt’s husband.

“Is this why you offer to rub them for me when they're sore?” He pressed, feeling a bit teasing. He turned onto his side and pressed in close to Percival, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

Percival turned towards him, finally peering at Newt for a long moment.

“Does it bother you?”

Newt shook his head.

“I don’t understand properly but I don’t mind it? I want you to enjoy what we do together.”

“I do, I already do, rest assured, I’m entirely happy with our sex life.”

“But you would like to touch my feet more? What does it mean, to like feet in a sexual sense? What do you think of?”

“Newt,” Percival breathes, utterly embarrassed and Newt finds himself a bit bold because of it.

“Do you think of touching them during sex? Of touching them with your…?”

Percival huffed out, turning and rolling over Newt with a growl as the omega laughed out in surprise.

“Stop it, stop being such a wicked temptation.”

“I’m merely asking questions,” Newt defends but knew he had been teasing a tad.

“Tease,” Percival insisted and kisses Newt soundly. As the contact grows deeper, Newt lifted a foot and rested it along Percival’s ankle, making the man break the kiss and shudder.

Newt had never felt so powerful before. The way his husband reacted to a single action.

“Utter tease,” Percival instead again, kissing Newt’s neck reverently. It had been too long since they’d had proper sex and Newt felt his body stirring up immediately, reacting hungrily. He reached up and wrapped his arms around Percival’s shoulders, pressing up into the contact between them.

Percival pulled at Newt’s sleeping shirt, pulling it up and over his head, leaving him bare. The alpha was wearing a pair of sleeping pants that were thin and did nothing to hide his erection pressing to Newt’s thigh.

Newt pushes Percival back, feeling a bit silly but also truly wanting to make his husband feel as good as he possibly could. Percival obediently went where Newt guides him, sitting back on his heels, kneeling on the bed between Newt’s thighs as Newt laid out on his back before him. Shifting a bit, Newt manages to lift a foot and settle it into Percival’s lap, right over his cock.

“Newt,” Percival breathed, looking so wound up already.

“Show me,” Newt simply asked and Percival’s careful hands curled over his foot, gently squeezing it before he pressed it more firmly against his cock. Newt could feel the heat and shape of it on the bottom of his foot. It felt strange but not bad, curious mostly. But the way Percival was reacting was distinctly arousing.

His calloused hands sliding over the top of Newt’s foot and holding his ankle as he pressed against the soul and gently rocked himself against it.

“Do you like the way it feels?” Newt asks, genuinely inquisitive.

Percival just nodded, rubbing his cock against Newt’s foot, his sleeping pant materials beginning to get damp with his cock head dripping eagerly. Newt felt a familiar hunger, licking his lip and knowing the flavour well.

Percival lifted his foot up, pressing a kiss to Newt’s heel and peering down at him, eyes so dark with lust. Newt managed to smile up at him, thigh spreading as Percival pressed in close, pushing his sleeping pants down and freeing himself so he could guide the tip up against Newt’s body. His hole soaked and eager, apparently pleased with this new play.

Percival sank in with a groan and Newt felt himself echoing it. He did love that feeling of being opened up, that first sensation of his body welcoming Percival into him, taking him in to connect them intimately.

His husband was all wanton this time, on the edge instead of being in control. He shoved a bit rougher than usual and Newt gasped out in appreciation. It reminded Newt of their first wild time, his heat making Percival half feral.

Right away Newt was being fucked good and proper, the headboard of the bed banging the wall a bit, groaning under them as the slap of skin and the lewd sound of Newt’s soaked slick seemed so loud.

Percival pushed up on to his arms, leveraging himself so he could ram in with more force, utterly taking as Newt moaned out, unable to be quiet at all.

“Newt,” Percival hissed, hips pumping hard as he fucked Newt so hard, so perfectly rough.

“Yes, like that,” Newt replied brokenly, the friction feeling so lovely, rising up so fast. Percival could do whatever he wanted to Newt’s feet if only he would keep thrusting like that, right in that spot. They fit so well, since the very first time, Newt was certain he’d never need any other, Percival was more than enough for him.

His breath caught, little-hitched gasps and Percival knew what they meant, pummeling into Newt’s body, fucking him hard and shallow, a steady slap as Newt sobbed and came. Shivering in the few breathtaking moments of climax Newt whimpered as he Percival fucked him through it. He was ramming in, losing himself, the rhythm beginning to falter. So Newt managed to lift his legs around Percival’s hips, clinging and resting his heels on the small of his husband’s back.

It was enough to push him over. Percival leaning down to bury his face in Newt’s neck as he came. Panting as he slammed in as deeply as he could and filled Newt.

They laid breathless in the aftermath, both sweat slicked and tangled up contently.

After a moment, Percival was easing out of Newt and reaching out a hand to call a warm rag from the bathroom. He cleaned Newt up before wiping himself down and then freshening the sweat-damp bedding with a spell. They settled in together, Newt curling up against his husband and feeling pleased with the world.

 “I… thank you,” Percival said after a time and Newt snuggled closer.

“For what?” He asked, half asleep already. A good fucking always wore him out.

“For not thinking my…interests are so terrible.”

“They really aren’t, if anything I’ve found a new way to stir you up. Like how you know I’m weak to kisses on my neck.”

Percival chuckled reaching out to run lazy fingers over Newt’s bare neck. He should probably put on a sleeping shirt but couldn’t be bothered really.

“Regardless, thank you, for being so accepting. I wonder sometimes if I’m worthy of you.”

“Nonsense. It’s silly to worry about worth in such a way, worry about making me happy instead, about out happiness together. I’d much prefer that you focus on that than whether or not we measure up in comparison. I used to feel terrible as a boy, thinking I was nothing like my brother. Theseus told me it was silly. That to compare two people is like...what would he say?”

Newt paused a moment and tried to recall the exact words that had made him realize his sibling’s wisdom.

“Comparing a rose to a larkspur, they're both lovely flowers but both are utterly different. He used a creature metaphor as well that I rather liked too. But the point is no two people can be exactly the same and shouldn’t be, really.”

“My sensible omega wife, here to keep sense in my head.”

Newt nodded, resting his head back on Percival’s chest.

"I'll try my best," he reassured sleepily.


Percival took Newt’s notes and began his own investigation on the shop. Much to Newt’s relief his husband didn’t doubt his findings and worked swiftly. By the end of the second week the aurors had busted the shop for not only creature smuggling but various illegal dark arts paraphernalia.

“What will happen to the creatures?” Newt asked at dinner. They were in a small Italian restaurant, tucked away in a private corner. Percival had begun taking Newt out on private dates instead of just large events. Just the two of them, Percival showing Newt more of New York and the places he had grown up. Newt’s heart was still weary but the love he felt was stronger, learning more about his husband and how to communicate with him.

“Will they be safe?” He worried and Percival hesitated to reply and Newt fought a smile. Dragging his bare toes up Percival’s calf under the floor-length tablecloth that hid the teasing. It had become a game between them, a wicked thing Newt would do to stir Percival up. It was empowering in a sense to be able to do something so small and see such a reaction. Newt had never felt particular seductive before, but that was changing. 

“They don’t know yet, we’ve recovered a sizable number, there’s talk of developing a new program to help them recover and return to their natural habitats.” Percival finally said, voice a touch off but not enough to draw attention. The tips of his ears just a touch red. It was that reaction that made Newt so bold, able to act so wicked.

Newt sat up straight, the game forgotten now with the latest news.

“Truly? That would be amazing,” he enthused with a happy smile, thinking of all the creatures that could be helped. America could truly benefit from a program to help its creatures. They had a right to the world just as much as people did after all.

“I’ve suggested you, to help build and establish the program. I thought you might like working with creatures again,” Percival admitted. “I can take your name back if you don’t wish too.”

Newt stared a moment, his husband not seeming to realize the depth of adoration and appreciation he had just brought up in Newt.

“I, of course! I’d love to do such a thing, in any way I can help. I truly have missed working with creatures.”

Percival nodded, taking a bite from his plate and reminding Newt they were eating. He went back to his own, excitement vibrating through him.

“I had thought so, I know you wished to work with them here in America and under MACUSA would be the best way. Both sides benefit, you can research and MACUSA will have proper information on creatures.”

Newt nodded his head eagerly, chewing his food quickly to answer.

“Yes. We could both learn so much about the wonderful creatures here, build a proper reference.”

Percival nodded and Newt nodded in reply, feeling so silly and giddy. They both gave in to soft chuckles.

“Thank you, Percival. It means a great deal to me,” Newt offered and his husband smiled warmly at him.

“I want you to be happy Newt, more than anything else.”

“I am, with you,” Newt replied contentedly. He lifted his bare foot and trailed it up Percival’s calf, watching him shift in his chair and cough to hide his flush. They were being utterly terrible really but Newt was sure his heat was around the corner and could blame that for being so wicked. Making him act so impulsively. His foot settled in Percival’s lap and the man reached down and curled warm fingers over Newt’s ankle, squeezing gently.

Newt certainly hadn’t imagined that wearing a dress and pretending to be Queenie for a night would bring about all it had. But Newt couldn’t be anything but grateful for it. Queenie had written and she and Jacob were moving to America to open a bakery after their first child was born. Tina was coming as well to begin work as an international auror, their family mended and the Goldsteins happy to let their daughter chase their dreams now that a little son had been born, their baby brother.

And here was Newt, in a new life but excited for all it had and would bring him. They had been talking about trying for a child with Newt’s next heat. The idea of a little baby that looked like Percival filling Newt’s heart. And now he might have his dream job as well. Might work his days with magical creatures and have a beautiful family.

Newt was thankful every day and enthusiastic about their future.

“Shall we head home?” Percival inquired, fingers lazily petting Newt’s foot, letting it rest snug against his half hard cock through his pants.

“Lets,” Newt agreed with a sly little smile.


It surprised him, to receive a letter from Emily after all these years. She had seemed like the ideal partner all those years ago. A mirror image of Percival, bright and ambitious in her political career, they had both made plans for a future together before they fell apart.

Percival had expected someone like her for his wife, he had never thought such a soul like Newt would be his perfect match.

When he went to Britain to seek a wife he had only hoped to find someone he could trust. Some sweet girl who wouldn’t have political plots in mind or hunger for his family wealth. He’d just wanted to marry, to finally be on his way to starting a family. When his parents had passed, Percival had honestly panicked a little, afraid to grow old without children of his own. The Graves were related to most major families and those of lesser status seemed to have far too many ambitions for his liking. So he travelled and thought to bring home a bride, to help introduce her to his world. And then he stumbled upon an omega boy budding and before he could even think he was inside him, binding them. Marrying him in the next moment. Percival had no regrets but he could admit it had been terribly rushed. It would have been shameful not too though. And Percival couldn’t just let the sweet thing go after he had a taste. He would be chasing the flavour of Newt for the rest of his life and nothing would be as divine.

He had been apprehensive he took the boy from his country home and settled him in the center of a bustling city. Newt had seemed like his opposite, soft and shy. Meek and sweet in all things. But as they grew to know one another better Percival learned the depth to his wife. Such a astonishing bravery to him when others were in need, a touch wild even when it came to his creatures. Always chasing after them and finding them even in the depths of the city. Brilliant in his field and so charming when he was talking about his work. To think at some point he had seemed so meek to Percival.

Newt was ever optimistic and Percival supposed he let that bleed into him as well, hoping everything would work out well when they first married. It had seemed to for a time, and then slowly Newt grew distant over those first months.

Percival made excuses at first, certain Newt was merely preoccupied with something.

But doubts crept in.

Newt was stunning, a gorgeous omega and he was alone at home all day. Percival’s mind twisted it all around, made it seem perverse. He wouldn’t even be the first. Or the second.

“You were never here,” Emily had told him, leaving him for a man she had been sleeping with for almost a year. “Too obsessed with your work.”

They had seemed so well matched and in the end, she walked away from him and never looked back. It had stung him hard in his youth, to realize in his personal life he wasn’t nearly as observant. Called a brilliant auror with a bright future and unable to see his lover cheating on him. 

“It just bothers me too much,” Ann had said when she found out about his perverse interest in feet. Three years into a relationship he had shared it with her and four months later she left him. “It’s perverse, I thought you were a good man.”

It almost seemed fitting, a third time his doubts had whispered. Mocked him until Percival was so certain Newt had some lover. That Percival hadn’t been enough for him either.

Newt felt too perfect to begin with. Part of him blamed the alpha omega status they shared, chemicals inside them making them bond instantly. There were drawn to each other and Percival worried the love might be artificial. What if Newt was drawn to any alpha, what if he grew bored and strayed to another.

Percival obsessed on the fear the more he grew to love the omega.

He thought of every time the might have pushed Newt too far. Of each time he let himself touch Newt’s feet inappropriately, let some sexual deviation ruin his chance at happiness. Of when he worked too late or dragged Newt to one too many social events. Forcing him into crowds he clearly disliked.

“What are you doing?” Artemis asked, peeking up over the edge of Percival’s study desk. He blinked out of his morose thoughts instantly.

“Working, sweet,” he told his daughter with a fond smile.

“You were just staring off, mooning,” she corrected suspiciously. “You said you couldn’t play because you had work and you’re not even doing it!”

Percival huffed a laugh at the accusation.

“You’re right my dear, what was I thinking, come here.” He pushed his chair out and turned it so his daughter could come around the desk and crawl into his lap.

“You should have just played tea time with me,” she grumbled.

Percival kissed her brow, tucking a stray strand of hair back behind her ear.

“I should have,” he agreed, lifting her up. A wave of his hand sent his work papers away, back into the suitcase were no bored creatures could get at them. Percival had learned that one the hard way. The letter from Emily he waved into the fireplace to let the weak flames eat it up. He had no use for such things. Almost ten years after she left him she was writing to him about regrets and hopes to meet. Percival had absolutely no interest in such things.

He had no regrets in his life these days.

“Where’s mum?” He asked his darling child, feeling blessed each time he looked at her. A father’s love born the moment he set eyes on her, running side by side to his very depth with his adoration for his wife.

“Feeding Hestia,” Artemis replied, content to sit on her father’s hip. “Can we play dolls?”

“We can,” Percival agreed. “Let’s just check on mum and your sister?”

Artemis sighed like it was such a chore but nodded.

“What were you mooning over?”


“Mum says you moon, when you stare at nothing for a long time, you’re mooning.”

Percival covered a startled laugh.

“Mum says that does he?”

Artemis nodded, never able to keep a single secret.

“I was thinking about how me and your mum met and married. It’s our anniversary soon and I must think up a good gift to give your mum.”

“Mum would probably like a unicorn most.”

Percival snorted at the truth in that statement. Newt had a celebrated career as a magizoologist and an observatory teeming with injured and healing creatures from all over the world. He was one of the leaders of his field, a world recognized name and Percival couldn’t be prouder.  

“I think you’re right, but it’s meant to be a romantic gift, a mum and papa gift.”

“Like jewelry? Or shoes?” Percival winced at that, thinking he could probably stand to buy less for Newt. But then the tease would smile so easily and try the new shoes on and leave Percival sweating under his collar. The bloody minx, his pretty wife.

“Something like that. To show our love.”

“Oh, then mum has you beat,” Artemis mused.

Percival raised a brow in question as he pushed open the kitchen door and finally found his mate and youngest daughter, the toddler happily making a great mess of her food as Newt patiently encouraged her to put more into her mouth.

He would never grow tired of the sight, Newt and their children. Percival’s heart always swelled with such love, a deep well of reverence. He had hoped for a wife he could come to love when he went looking for a bride. Never knowing how far down he could fall. To think, Percival was once the sort who questioned if love was as consuming as so many claimed. And now here he stood, utterly enraptured by the domestic scene. Newt looking up at him and smiling affectionately at him.

Artemis leaned in to whisper to Percival.

“Mum said babies are how parents show their love and the healer this morning said mum was gonna have another, so he wins.”