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The King's Omega

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Percival never thought it would come to this.  He thought he knew what kind of ruler Grindelwald would be, and he had mourned for the dark times which would beset the land after Queen Seraphina’s fall.  He thought he was prepared, but this…

He stands straight, refusing to be cowed even as he’s led shirtless and barefoot into line with the rest of the omegas chosen to be presented to the king.  He’d scarcely believed the proclamation when he’d first read it; those damning words are etched into his mind as though the parchment were right in front of him, elegant lines of black ink proclaiming the inescapable and undeniable will of the king.

He’d read the it over and over again, as though if he were to only look closely enough the lines on the parchment would change, or yield some other, less terrible understanding.

They had not.

“By Proclamation of His Majesty, Sovereign Ruler of the Land and Commander of His Armies, the King Grindelwald hereby declares that in compliance with His Word and in respect for His Authority, all within the land shall participate in the presentation of candidates for selection as King’s Omega.

All as yet unmated Omegas between the desirable ages of sixteen and twenty four shall henceforth be considered Candidates, and in accordance with this honor, in the interest of the stability of the Land and the satisfaction of His Majesty the King, shall present themselves to the King’s Agents when approached so that they may be inspected and, if deemed worthy, escorted to the Seat of His Power and evaluated at the King’s leisure.

Any who attempt to interfere with the King’s Search, be it through concealment, deceit, heedlessness, or disregard shall be considered treasonous and must face the Justice of the King.”

It had gone on, detailing the procedure to be used in rounding up omegas for King Grindelwald to peruse, the many criteria on which he would base his decision, but Percival hadn’t the stomach to read further - to read how he was going to be treated like a horse up for auction, abducted and inspected for as long as their new king liked, until some poor omega was plucked from hundreds to serve him.

Percival’s hands had sunk into his lap, clutching the parchment until it creased.  He couldn’t believe this was happening. The Search was an archaic custom, bordering on barbaric.  It hadn’t taken place in a century, giving way to the much more civilized methods of alliances and matchmaking, the way Seraphina had taken her mate.  The idea that Grindelwald would use the Search to find a King’s Omega was nearly unthinkable.

Yet even though the custom had fallen out of favor, as king, Grindelwald still has the right to invoke it.  If anyone had the power to stop this abuse, they would have used to it prevent Grindelwald ever becoming king in the first place.  Even the Graves family must tread lightly, having been supporters of Queen Seraphina for so long. They would not survive being branded traitors to Grindelwald’s rule.

There was little Percival could do but wait to be rounded up and hope he wasn’t detained too long.

The king’s agents had turned out to be the same men as the king’s army, moving with all the swift efficiency that implies.  It had been less than a week before they arrived, dressed in uniforms sharp enough to cut and carrying a copy of the king’s proclamation, just in case anybody needed to be reminded of the circumstances.  He’d thought perhaps he would have longer, but no - the Graves Estate was less than a day’s ride from Grindelwald’s castle, so he should have expected to be one of the first. When Queen Seraphina reigned the location had been favorable, but now…

Percival had watched from his window as they arrived, four mounted men flanking the carriage which would take him away.  They greeted his father with propriety, every last syllable in perfect order as they acted for all the world as though they were delivering a great honor unto the Graves family.

Percival walked out with his head held high, dignity intact.  He would go, he would endure, and he would return. Eventually Grindelwald’s reign would come to an end, and he only need hold out till then.

He had stepped into the carriage, wondering a bit at the finery.  The seats were plush, the doors gilded and carved from oak, and it was every bit the luxury which would befit a true guest of the king.  But surely not all omegas were collected like this - just the ones from nobility, perhaps? He had expected something more efficient, more practical, considering the scale of the operation at hand.

Then the heavy bolts on the doors slid into place with a thud, and everything came back into sharp relief.  The carriage wasn’t for his benefit at all. It was for his family, so that they had no reason to protest their son being taken.  It made the king look generous, even as he pillaged his new kingdom.

Now, after staying more than a week in a dormitory filled with omegas from across the kingdom, Percival waits, looking straight ahead across the hall they’ve been led into.  It’s a glorious room; its arching ceilings are gilt in gold, and crystal windows diffract mosaics of light across the cool marble floor. Percival can imagine a banquet taking place here, filling up the room with wine and light conversation late into the evening hours.

Today it serves no such festive purpose.  The hall is quiet, the only sounds the footsteps of the omegas and the scratch of a quill from the scribe’s desk which has been set up at the front of the room, checking each of them off as they’re brought in.  None of them dare speak, though Percival can feel the tense, anxious atmosphere of the room rising. He can see the excitement emanating from several of them, willing to bear being stripped and paraded just for the chance to meet the king, hoping beyond hope to be chosen and whisked off to live in the castle.  Percival thinks the rest of them, the scared ones, have more sense, though if any share his disgust they don’t dare show it.

The heavy doors in front of them clang, and Percival bites his lip to hold back a start.  A moment later they swing open in a wide arc and two guards step through, followed by a man holding a scroll and dressed in courtly silk, adorned with King Grindelwald’s crest.

“Prepare for the presence of His Majesty, Sovereign Ruler and Commander, King Grindelwald!” he bellows, voice ringing out in the hall, and steps promptly to the side, leaving the doorway open for Grindelwald himself to enter.

Percival is well versed it court etiquette.  He grew up learning the hundreds of rules which govern how to interact, how to speak, how to be, how to show submission to alphas and fealty to his king or queen.  He knows with certainty that the correct thing to do is to bow his head and drop his gaze, staying absolutely silent in the presence of the king and refusing to look any higher than his boots.  To do anything else is an affront, a challenge, the brashest display of disloyalty, and deserves to be treated as such.

Percival watches Grindelwald enter the room, taking in his gleaming leather boots, the trousers which show the form of his calves, his thighs, and the long, flowing blue coat which is embroidered so intricately the thread seems to shift and shimmer with each step he takes.  The buttons of his shirt are encrusted with jewels, leading up to a high, frilled collar. His skin is pale, his hair a shocking white, and his eyes are a harsh, pale blue which the shade of his coat matches precisely. His crown sits easily atop his head, gleaming gold twisted into such fine strands it appears to be woven.

His clothes are extravagant, luxurious and indulgent, but his gait as he strides forward betrays his powerful physicality.  His presence fills the entire room, demanding focus, and for a moment Percival thinks he understands how he won the kingdom.

Grindelwald’s gaze sweeps over them all and without pause or ceremony he proceeds to the nearest end of the line, the man with the scroll falling in behind him.  Grindelwald strolls down the line, browsing the selection with a detached, proprietary gaze. He pauses occasionally to scent one of them or squeeze a breast, but otherwise doesn’t linger.

The room is deathly quiet, save for the comments he makes and the scratch of quill on parchment from the man recording it.  “Lovely eyes,” he murmurs in front of the woman five down from Percival. “What a waste she’s so plain.” His voice is like the glide of silk over steel; soft and dangerous and sharp all at once, fatal to underestimate.  Percival holds back a shiver, looking straight ahead. “Underfed, I told you to bring me healthy ones.” Two down.

And then he’s standing in front of Percival, critical gaze roaming over his body, and Percival grits his teeth.  Fifteen seconds, he just has to stand here for fifteen seconds and then Grindelwald will move on to the next in line and Percival can devote the rest of his life to forgetting this moment.

Grindelwald makes a considering hum, eyes lingering on his lips and his nipples.  Percival flinches when his hand falls on his chest without warning, stroking his pectoral and squeezing.  Percival feels his heartbeat accelerate under that hand. Grindelwald’s long fingers ghost over his skin, circling around his areola until he spirals in and pets his nipple, forcing it to pebble up into a hard little bump beneath his touch.  A quick pinch and Percival inhales suddenly, unprepared for the sensation and the heat it brings to his chest.

He doesn’t want to be touched by this maniac.  Surely he’ll move on now - how long has he been looking at Percival?  Is it longer than the others? Perhaps it only feels that way.

Slowly, purposefully, Grindelwald leans forward until they’re nearly touching, inclining his head so that Percival can feel his breath against his neck.  Percival holds his ground, refusing to flinch or lean back. Grindelwald lets the moment play out, perhaps waiting to see if Percival will move for him, and then he inhales - scenting him deeply.

When Grindelwald steps back his mouth is twisted up into a triumphant grin, eyes glittering as he looks over Percival’s body once again.

“Name?” he asks softly, gaze still locked to Percival’s figure.

“Percival,” says the man with the parchment, before he can say a word himself.

“Percival,” Grindelwald repeats, rolling the name off his tongue with relish.  It makes Percival burn to be dismissed that way - stripped of his family name, his standing, as though omega were the only thing that defined him

“Lord Percival Graves,” he says, and damn the consequences.

Grindelwald looks up in surprise, and for the first time his gaze meets Percival’s.

“Is that right?”  The man with the parchment looks shocked, the omegas to either side of Percival shift uncomfortably, but Grindelwald himself seems neither angry nor affronted.  No, he looks amused.

“It is, Your Grace.”

Grindelwald’s smile widens.  It’s a dangerous thing, vicious, but Percival refuses to give up his dignity so effortlessly.

“Ah yes, I can see the noble blood.”  Grindelwald strokes the line of Percival’s jaw, coming to rest with a finger beneath his chin.  “What a pretty one, you are.”

Percival tries to keep his face neutral, but Grindelwald must see the fury in his eyes.  It’s the only explanation for why he presses further.

“How wonderful it is to have you here, Lord Percival.  I trust you’re enjoying my hospitality?”

Percival swallows.  He has a moment of certainty that he’s going to be thrown in a cell and left to rot before he replies, “It is an honor to be a guest of the king, Your Grace.  I can only hope that I do not impose on your hospitality for too long.”

The atmosphere of the room has crystalized, distilled into something so dangerously fragile that a single misplaced word could bring it crashing down on top of them.  Percival doesn’t dare move, doesn’t even breath as Grindelwald steps in close. He doesn’t understand the gleam in his eyes that looks almost like excitement, doesn’t understand why he hasn’t been thrown out of court and into the castle dungeon for his insolence.  Grindelwald could do anything he wanted to him, and yet he stands here, petting Percival’s waist.

Grindelwald pulls him close, pressing his lips to Percival’s ear.  Percival can feel him smiling. “Did you know,” he whispers, “that you smell the sweetest of any omega I have in my castle?  And sweeter still, when you act so brave.”

A terrible weight drops into Percival’s stomach.

“Oh yes.”  The bastard is so sure, so certain of his control as he whispers in Percival’s ear like a lover.  His breath tickles the shell of his ear, his words snaking into his heart like poison. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?  Not like the rest of the pathetic lot. But you should be. I own every piece of you, love.”

“Your Grace,” Percival tries, his voice coming out smaller than he would like.  Grindelwald doesn’t let him finish.

“Turn around,” he says, and Percival closes his eyes.  He wants to disobey. He wants to shrug off the king’s hands and go home to his family and the life they planned for him.  He doesn’t understand what got him here, what it was which caught Grindelwald’s eye and put him in the running for King’s Slut, but he doesn’t want anything to do with it.  He wants so badly to disobey.

He turns, dropping his head submissively.

“Good boy,” Grindelwald purrs, and Percival hates the way some piece of him responds to that.  It’s just an instinctive reaction to an alpha’s praise, nothing more, but that doesn’t make it less humiliating - the way his heart flutters and something warm starts to pool in his belly.  It makes him feel sick.

Grindelwald grips the back of Percival’s neck and marches him forward, the breath leaving his lungs in a gasp as he’s roughly bent over the scribe’s table at the front of the room.  He bucks in that grip, but it’s too late now - he can’t escape Grindelwald’s hold, can’t get away from the weight of his body pressing down against his back or the hot breath on the nape of his neck, making that sensitive, intimate skin tingle.  He braces for Grindelwald to continue his inspection, to be groped and fondled until he’s led off to await the next round with the rest of Grindelwald’s favorites.

But it doesn’t happen.  Grindelwald fists one hand into his hair, controlling his head, and uses his other hand to pin Percival’s wrist to the table.  Percival tries not to squirm. He can feel Grindelwald’s erection growing beneath his trousers, and any desperate little move on his part only serves to grind back against it.  It’s disgusting, everything about this is disgusting. He burns under the gazes of Grindelwald’s servants, the guards, even the other omegas in the room, all watching what Grindelwald does to him, witnesses to his humiliation.  There’s no escape from it, and it sets his blood on fire.

He jolts when Grindelwald kisses his cheek, following it by suckling wet and open mouthed at the crook of his neck.  A tiny, shocked sound falls from his lips; Grindelwald shouldn’t touch him there, no one should touch him there, king or not.  Only his mate would touch such an intimate, sacred place, for anyone else to do so is unthinkable.

Percival freezes, everything falling into place with horrifying clarity.  

There is no next round.  There are no others of Grindelwald’s favorites.  He’s being mated, here and now, in front of everyone.

“No!” he gasps, thrashing against the table.  He can’t let this happen, this isn’t supposed to happen, he can’t -  “No, no, please don’t do this, don’t - I don’t want this, God, no -”

Grindelwald holds him down easily, his alpha strength overpowering Percival’s desperate struggles.  The very best that he can do is rendered pathetic in Grindelwald’s hold.

Grindelwald fits his teeth over Percival’s neck, and he sobs.  “Please no, please don’t -”

He wishes Grindelwald’s bite hurt.  He wishes it were excruciating, that the feeling of Grindelwald’s teeth sinking into his flesh was agony like he’d never felt, that it disgusted him with how wrong it was.

It does hurt, a little.  The pain is like a fuzzy edge to the sensation, something he feels but isn’t really aware of.  It’s one element in a cacophony of sensations which rage through his body, and it fades into obscurity as heat races down his spine.  The warmth pools in his belly, making him arch his back and bare his neck as his legs go weak beneath him. A wave of dizziness hits him, leaving him disoriented.  The alpha above him keeps his grip, holding him in place, and Percival is glad for the anchor. He doesn’t know what would happen to him without it, doesn’t know if he’d be able to find his way back after being carried so far away.  He gets lost in the pleasure coursing through him, the tingling which spreads out through his whole body, reaching the tips of his fingers and making him shiver. He’s never felt anything like this.

The alpha releases him and for a moment he wavers on the spot - everything’s out of focus, the room is too bright, he’s shaking as though he has a fever.  The room tilts and the next thing Percival knows his cheek is pressed to the cool stone floor, trembling as chills overtake him. Everything is a blur - the room is spinning, people are looking down at him, and he feels so strange, as though something missing has been slotted into place.  There’s something wet and warm trickling down over his shoulder, and when he reaches up to touch it his hand comes away scarlet.

Slowly he raises his head, looking up at his alpha.  Grindelwald stands above him, a triumphant smile stretched across his face, and Percival just looks back at him with wide eyes.  He’s been mated, permanently altered to crave Grindelwald’s presence and obey his every word, and he couldn’t stop it.

A sob tears itself from his chest, even as shock still numbs his mind.  His whole life is gone. Everything he planned, everything he wanted, all wiped away so that he can belong to the king.  Tears roll down his cheeks, and Grindelwald just smiles.

“Go to my chambers,” he orders, his voice rich and deep and everything Percival longs to hear.  He doesn’t want to obey but it feels right to do so, the command tugging at something deep within him which is impossible to ignore.

On trembling legs he rises, clutching the bleeding bite mark as he turns to obey his alpha’s wishes.  Two guards flank him, escorting him off to his new life, and as he leaves the hall he hears Grindelwald’s raised voice behind him.

“Out!” he bellows.  “Get the rest of the sluts out, I found mine.”

Percival closes his eyes, knowing it’s true.  He’s Grindelwald’s slut, and nothing in the world can save him now.

Chapter Text

The guards take him to one of Grindelwald’s outer rooms, leaving him alone to take in his new prison.  It’s luxurious in its comfort, which only makes Percival’s stomach twist - he’d prefer to hate his captivity, to spend it in a cold cell which kept his outrage near the surface, not in comfort.

The room is built of thick stone, but barely anywhere is the polished surface actually visible; the walls are insulated with colorful, shimmering tapestries broken only by arching windows which look out on the courtyard below.  Beams of summer sunlight fall across the bearskin rug on the floor, placed in front of a large hearth which must be capable of keeping the room more than comfortable in the colder seasons. For the moment it and the chairs set in front of it are left in disuse, not needed with the summer warmth lingering through the short nights.

Percival grimaces in distaste.  The opulence far outways even the finest elements of the Graves Manor, and it’s clear that Grindelwald has spared no expense for his own comfort.  Percival hates every inch of it.

He paces, unable to sit still and resign himself to his fate even as the wound in his shoulder wells with blood.  There must be something he can do, some manner of self preservation. He’s mated now, and nothing can change that - a treacherous, weak part of him isn’t sure he wants to change it - but he must be able to keep his own mind.  He knows how omegas change when they’re mated, and had he been bonded to an honorable, noble alpha he would have embraced it. He would gladly have submitted to his place and accepted his alpha’s control and guidance, trusting in his family to have chosen a suitable match and in his alpha to care for him.  But to be mated to a man like Grindelwald - what will become of him?

The room lurches beneath Percival’s feet and he grabs at the back of a nearby chair for support, clinging to it as his head pounds.  He tries to breath through it, to calm himself and regain a badly needed equilibrium, but it only worsens. The room is too hot, and he can’t help a glance at the hearth to ensure it really isn’t lit - he feels as though he were standing next to a bonfire, his own heartbeat resounding in his ears.

Slowly and carefully he eases himself into the chair, burrowing into it as though he could hide while waves of dizziness wrack his body.  He knows what’s happening - his body is betraying him, throwing itself into heat after being bonded and crying out for his alpha to finish his claim.  He aches to be touched, to be held down and taken, and he can’t stop the tears rolling down his cheeks as he realizes it. It’s natural, it’s what happens to all omegas.  The first mating heat is a sacred time for him to bond with his alpha, something to be celebrated and cherished. He had looked forward to this moment.

He hides his face in the back of the chair and weeps.  It smells like his alpha, and he hates himself for the comfort he takes from that.

By the time Grindelwald comes for him Percival has nearly cried himself out.  His sobs give way to little sniffles, which stop entirely when his alpha walks through the door.  Percival feels him enter, already becoming attuned to his presence even though the sick mix of relief and revulsion it inspires makes him reel.  The part of Percival which craves his alpha has no true place within him. It’s something forced on him, artificial and jarring, and he won’t let it burrow into his mind.

Grindelwald smiles when he sees him, a wolfish smirk full of lust and barbarity which stretches his lips and crinkles around his eyes.  He latches the door and strides forward, reaching out a hand to Percival, who leaps out of his chair and falls back across the room as though he’d been whipped.  He doesn’t want to be anywhere near that predator, grinning like he’s going to devour him whole. He needs to run, he needs a way out -

His back hits the wall, rattling him and forcing the breath from his lungs.  Grindelwald just keeps walking towards him as Percival’s eyes dart from side to side, seeking any avenue of escape.  The windows are too narrow to squeeze through, and too high above the ground besides; the exit is past Grindelwald, bolted and no doubt guarded; the only other door leads deeper into Grindelwald’s chambers.  Percival swallows. For a brief moment he considers bolting for the exit anyway, before his courage fails and he slides sideways along the wall, putting as much distance as he can between himself and Grindelwald before he hits the corner and has nowhere else to go.

He tries to brace himself, but he doesn’t know what Grindelwald will do - continue that slow advance and press him up against the wall, snatch him by the back of the neck and make him yield, punish him for reacting to his alpha in such a way -

Grindelwald stops a few paces in front of him, that awful smile never leaving his lips.

“Come here.”

Percival freezes.  His heart pounds so hard he can feel the throb in his veins, and he presses his palms back against the stone wall as though his could sink through it and disappear.

“No,” he says, and though he meant it to be a growl, even to his own ears it sounds more like a question.

Grindelwald shakes his head fondly.  “Pet. Come here.”

Something twists inside Percival, something deep and dark and helpless. He drops his gaze, staring down at Grindelwald’s boots as he tries to swallow back his instincts.  He doesn’t know where these desires come from. It feels natural, like a part of himself, but a part he never knew was there. He knows how it feels to be commanded by an alpha, that strong voice rendering him small and urging him to obey, but this is so different as to be unrecognizable.  It bypasses his mind, his body already trying to move before before he can even think whether or not he wants to obey. It’s a reflex which ignores his conscious thoughts entirely, and fighting it takes every scrap of will he possesses. He needs it to stop, if it would just stop he’d be able to figure out what to do, but with the pressure building up in his mind it’s as though his own thoughts can’t get through.  His whole mind is halted, unable to function until he does as he’s told.

How is he meant to resist when he can’t even think?

He takes one small step forward, hesitates - and takes another, another, until he falls into Grindelwald’s arms.

The weight lifts off and leaves him floating, feeling warm and a little tingly inside for having obeyed, even as his heart fills with shame.  The clash of emotions is too much to process.

“Such a good little mate,” Grindelwald coos, and Percival looks up at him dazedly.  He shakes his head as Grindelwald’s arms encircle him, pulling him in close against his chest, but the protest seems academic.

“Don't touch me,” he begs, but Grindelwald takes no notice, continuing as though he hadn't spoken.  He squeezes his waist, holding him firmly and leading him the few steps back to the chair. He sits, hands sliding down to Percival's hips and urging him to climb on his lap.  “I don't want to,” he says, voice shaking, as though what he wanted mattered one bit. And it's not a lie. It isn’t.

Grindelwald doesn't say anything, just leans back in his chair and spreads his legs.  He has divested himself of his more extravagant trappings, and with his coat gone there is nothing to stop Percival’s eyes from being drawn down to the bulge at his crotch.  It’s big, so big, his trousers tight and tented, and Percival’s mind spins to think what his cock must look like. It must be so thick, thick and blunt maybe, forcing its way inside, and his knot would be huge, filling him up so well -

Percival flushes down to his bones with mortification, and one glance up at Grindelwald’s face shows that he knows exactly what he was thinking about - what he was fantasizing about.  Percival can’t hold his gaze, and he only feels worse when Grindelwald starts to massage his hips.  His presses his thumbs in slow circles, working over the jut of his hip bones before moving lower, pressing just barely into the crease of his thighs.  Percival tips his head back, an unbidden moan falling from his lips, and when Grindelwald urges him forward again he finds himself complying, climbing into his lap like a tamed kitten.

Grindelwald arranges him as he likes, helping him straddle his lap and sitting him down right on that bulge, making Percival’s hips rock involuntarily when he feels it.  He’s leaking slick now, he can feel it trickling from his hole, and when Grindelwald pulls him in close and rubs his back Percival buries his head in his shoulder, hiding from the shame of it.

He keeps rubbing in a slow, soothing rhythm while he slides his other hand down along Percival’s side to squeeze and grope his ass, making an appreciative hum when he presses back into it.

“Oh, there you are, darling.  Isn’t this so much better? You don’t have to worry anymore.  Not about how you should look, or where you like to be touched, or whether you want to be fucked, not about anything.  I know what’s best for you. You leave all that tricky thinking to me and just do exactly as I say, hmm?

Percival whimpers, the sound lost in Grindelwald’s shoulder.  The level of submission Grindelwald demands horrifies him - he doesn’t want Grindelwald to think for him, to lose his own mind like that, but even though he can feel the terror of it down to his marrow he can’t deny the way being held in Grindelwald’s arms soothes him.  Or the way his hips won’t stop moving, rocking back into Grindelwald’s hand and forward against his crotch.

Percival clings to him, breathing in his scent and matching his breathing to the steady beat of Grindelwald’s heart.  He hates that it’s Grindelwald’s comfort he needs, but he knows, deep within himself, that no one can calm him the way his mate can.  His body and soul cry out for Grindelwald, and Percival is too exhausted to fight.

Maybe… maybe he doesn’t have to give himself up all the way.  Obeying now doesn’t mean he will forever. It just means he’s exhausted and overwhelmed, and if Grindelwald offers to help him who is he to refuse?  He’s not submitting, he’s just accepting help. Just for now, just until his heat passes and his mind clears. Then he can form a plan to stay sane.

Ever so slowly the tension starts to ease out of his body and he sags against Grindelwald’s chest, settling in against him.

“Shh, there now,” Grindelwald coos.  “That’s it sweetheart, I’m here. Your alpha’s here, no need to fuss.”  His voice is lust tinged with mockery, and it makes Percival’s stomach tighten in the strangest way.  “You just relax and be a darling little slut for me, all right? Hush, no need to trouble your pretty little head any longer.”

Percival squirms, trying to make sense of the way Grindelwald’s words make him gush slick.  He should hate it, shouldn’t he? It’s demeaning, making him feel small and weak and helpless, and…

And relieved.  The only thing he has to do is trust that Grindelwald will take care of everything.

“Alpha?” he asks, not even sure what the question is.  He just knows the word feels good to say. He wants Grindelwald to keep talking.

“That’s it, let it all go.  No more big thoughts, no decisions, you just be the heat-dumb little omega slut you were born to be and let your Alpha worry about the rest, how does that sound?”

Percival looks up at him with big, trusting eyes.  “Alpha,” he says again, voice soft as he nuzzles closer.

“Good boy,” he says, and Percival’s eyes flutter shut with the pleasure that seeps through him.  He’s never felt a heat this strong, making him so pliant and malleable, feeling so good at the slightest touch.  He would have been foolish to fight his heat, and now that he’s decided to let go it’s so much easier. He can save his strength and fight later.  Just for now, just for tonight while he’s feeling so weak. Another time, he can take back control. Not right now. Right now, he just wants to be helpless.

He makes a meaningless little whimper as he grinds down against his alpha’s lap, feeling that thick cock just waiting to be inside him, and Grindelwald chuckles.

“Let’s get you out of these nasty clothes, hmm?  I know how much you want to be naked for me, wouldn’t that feel better?”

Percival nods as Grindelwald scoops him up, looping one arm around his shoulders and the other under his knees and carrying him through to the bedroom.  He lifts Percival as though he weighed nothing, and Percival can’t believe how lucky he is to have such a strong alpha.

Grindelwald deposits him on a sprawling four poster bed, atop sheets so soft that Percival feels as though he’s going to sink right through them.  He fusses when Grindelwald’s hands leave him, squirming and mewling on the bed with a need so furious it’s almost painful.

“What a needy creature you are,” Grindelwald says, looking down at him.  “So desperate.”

“Alpha,” Percival begs, “A… Alpha…”  His fingers find his waistband and he bucks his hips, too deep in heat to get his trousers off by himself.  His face creases as frustrated tears spill from the corners of his eyes, looking up imploringly at his alpha to please, please help him.

Grindelwald sits beside him on the bed, batting his hands away so that he can undo those awful fastenings on the front of his trousers.

“Do you even know how much you need this?”  Percival looks at him with wide, glassy eyes, and Grindelwald’s smile is full of cruel delight.  “Oh, I’m going to enjoy ruining you.”

Grindelwald pulls his trousers down his hips, stripping him quickly and tossing the useless clothes away.  Percival feels so much better with them gone; he’s free to spread his thighs, inviting his alpha in to where he most wants him as he reaches up and fists his hands into Grindelwald’s shirt, tugging to bring him closer, closer -

“No, pet.  I’m going to make you scream first.”

Grindelwald grips Percival’s wrists, gathering them securely in one hand so that he can’t struggle.  His eyes rake over Percival’s naked body to take in every detail of his prize which had been hidden from him before; sliding past Percival’s torso to his hips, following fine wisps of soft hair to the little dick which lays between his legs, and below that, his pink and dripping hole.

It hits Percival, then, just how vulnerable he is, but he still spreads his legs wider when Grindelwald places his free hand on his inner thigh.

“What an adorable cocklet.”  Grindelwald’s voice is dark and rich, and he slides his palm up Percival’s thigh to grip it, squeezing, making Percival’s breathing stutter.  “Just wait until we get it all pretty.”

Percival shivers and moans to think of his alpha marking him like that; wrapping his cock up in gold and jewels, a constant reminder of who he belongs to.  It’s not an uncommon practice. Omega cocks are decorative, and quite a few alphas enjoy adorning them to emphasize that fact. If Percival had taken a moment to think about it he might have even expected it.

“Oh, you’d like that.  You want to be pretty down there?”  Grindelwald squeezes again, almost cruelly, and Percival stifles a yelp.  “I’ll put a little bell on it. A little gold bell, and it will chime while I fuck you, won’t that be nice?  You’re going to love it.”

Percival… he doesn’t know what he feels, but it’s easiest just to focus on his arousal; the way Grindelwald’s hand grips him, the achy prickling in his neglected nipples, how his spine seems to have melted just like spun sugar in water.  It’s so much less painful than the sudden, resounding realization that if he submits now it won’t just be for tonight. It won’t just be while his heat lasts. Grindelwald will change him, permanently, and there will be no way back.

He can’t just lay here while his mind and body are ravished, warped beyond recognition by a madman.  It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He needs time to get his bearings, he needs to -

He barely manages to test the grip on his wrists before he finds his hands pinned to the pillows above his head and Grindelwald straddling his hips, settling his body weight over him and trapping him in place on the bed.  There’s nowhere to go, no way to free himself - he looks up at Grindelwald in panic, and an instant later feels lips against his own.

Grindelwald kisses him gently, licking over the seam of Percival’s lips and pressing his tongue inside when Percival finds that he’s unable to stop his mouth from falling open, nosing upwards to seek out his alpha’s taste.  His lips tingle with each flick of Grindelwald’s tongue, and his eyes flutter shut when he suckles on his bottom lip.

“O-ohh…”  Grindelwald pulls off him with a wet pop, only to duck in again and flick his tongue against Percival’s own, licking in deep and scattering every thought in his head save for how good this feels.  His mind is clouding over again, and it feels wonderful.  He’s soft everywhere Grindelwald touches him, yielding to his alpha and reaping pleasure from doing so.

There’s a little knot of concern in his chest, but he can’t quite remember why.  What could he be concerned about with his alpha here? He lets Grindelwald kiss the worry away, mesmerized by the feeling of his warm, wet tongue.

When Grindelwald pulls back once more Percival turns his head to the side, baring his neck in submission, and Grindelwald takes him up on the offer.

Chapter Text

Grindelwald’s lips are gentle and hungry all at once as he lavishes kisses over the thin, delicate skin.  He takes his time, and Percival’s mouth falls open on a sigh. He can’t stop his little pants of pleasure, or the mewls that bubble up and spill past his glistening lips.  Everywhere Grindelwald touches him sets off a shower of sparks beneath his skin, igniting his blood and blazing through his every nerve. He struggles to keep up but it’s so difficult to concentrate.  It’s like he’s seeing the world through a thick haze of pleasure, thoughts moving sluggishly through his mind and getting lost before he can complete them. The struggle is exhausting, and he can’t help wondering if it wouldn’t be easier just to let it all go.  He could let Grindelwald do whatever he wanted to him, accept each one of his touches as something beyond his control.

Grindelwald noses along his jaw, biting and nipping and making the hurt feel so good.  His fingers press against Percival’s lips and he eagerly flicks his tongue out to taste them, suckling the salt from Grindelwald’s skin and welcoming them inside.  Grindelwald takes his time, lightly scraping the tip of his nail over Percival’s plush bottom lip before slipping further inside, running the pad of his finger over his gums, his teeth, pressing down on his tongue and holding his mouth open until he starts to drool around Grindelwald’s fingers.  Percival’s eyes flutter shut with the images it summons, imagining Grindelwald replacing his fingers with his cock; stretching his jaw achingly wide, plunging down his throat and holding himself there while Percival just took it and drooled, gurgling and working his tongue to help his alpha take pleasure from his body, trusting Grindelwald to decide whether he needed to breathe -

Grindelwald pulls his fingers out, wiping them on Percival’s cheek and leaving a streak of sudden coolness as the saliva dries against his skin.  He leans down, lips a breath away from Percival’s; he just looks up at him, mouth still hanging open, and wonders if Grindelwald is going to kiss him again.

Grindelwald grips him by the hair, licking a long stripe over his lips before bypassing his mouth entirely, ducking low enough to fit his teeth around the delicate rise of Percival’s throat.

Percival’s entire body relaxes, going limp as a doll as he’s held in Grindelwald’s jaws.  He feels like a rabbit in the jaws of a wolf, the tension leaving him because his fate has already been decided.  He never had a chance. He was made to be hunted, made to be conquered. He’s never been so powerless, understanding to the depths of his being that he is owned.

He’s never been so wet.

The moment stretches on immeasurably, as though the river of time itself has held back its flow while Grindelwald holds down his omega.  Percival feels the sharp pressure of Grindelwald’s teeth increase - ever so slightly, just enough to drive every last thought from his head and leave him empty, waiting to be filled with his alpha’s will.  He can feel everything; the way slick trickles from his hole to mess the sheets, the arousal singing through his blood, Grindelwald’s weight on top of him and his tight grip pulling at strands of his hair - each and every indentation his teeth leave in his soft skin.  He feels it clearly, but he doesn’t think anything at all.

After Grindelwald releases him the world comes back slowly, in bits and pieces.  His limbs are heavy, body floating, and he feels cold when Grindelwald straightens up, no longer blanketing him.  He feels Grindelwald watching him, waiting for… something.

Percival blinks, shifting on the bed just to feel himself move.  He needs… He opens his mouth to speak, but closes it again after a moment when he realizes he doesn’t have anything to say.  He feels adrift, and he doesn’t like it. It’s as though Grindelwald is giving him some sort of choice, waiting to see what he’ll do, but Percival doesn’t want choices.  His mind is blank, unable to even process the situation much less form a response to it. He just knows there’s an ache between his legs and his alpha smells good. That’s all he needs to know.  His alpha takes care of everything else.

Percival bares his neck again and Grindelwald laughs, surprised.  “More?”

“Mhmm,” Percival whines in response, by which he means please, and yes, and take me.  Grindelwald seems to understand.

The feeling of teeth digging into his flesh is the closest thing to divinity which Percival has ever experienced.  He writhes as Grindelwald bites his way down his neck, into the meat of his shoulder, not trying to escape but pressing into it and seeking to give himself over to the sensation as wholly as he can.  It isn’t painful, and it doesn’t occur to him that it should be; no, it’s a symphony of sensation showing him that he’s safe, controlled, provided for - loved, even.

He’s complete.

Grindelwald bites at him so long, so thoroughly, that it takes him a moment to realize when his teeth leave him.  His skin echoes with the feeling, sinking deep into his veins and throbbing with each beat of his heart as he lays there, basking in the afterglow even as he misses feeling each new impression.  Grindelwald’s hands slide around his throat, squeezing briefly and making Percival smile dazedly, before moving to trace the patchwork of bruises left on his skin. It’s a pattern of vivid hues, from bright, bloodshot magenta all the way to deep indigo, blooming across his neck and shoulders.  Grindelwald makes a noise of appreciation as he presses on them, seeming to enjoy the way it makes Percival shake.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, his voice close to reverent.  Percival blinks up at him, not quite hearing his words over the sensation of Grindelwald digging his thumb into a bruise just above his collar bone, sending little shocks of pleasure-pain down his spine and making his back arch.  “You respond so beautifully to everything I do to you. You love it, don’t you? You love my marks, you want everyone to know just who owns you. And they will, little doll. They will.”

Percival loves the sounds of his alpha’s voice.  It’s deep and rich, full with a hunger and possessiveness which has Percival wriggling his hips and clenching his hole as he leaks wetness.  He doesn’t really understand the words but that’s okay, his alpha will put him where he needs to be. He doesn’t need to understand things, he just needs to be wet and compliant and ready to receive his alpha’s knot.  

God, he so wants to be knotted - his little hole is so needy, and now that he’s been thoroughly claimed it takes center focus in his mind.  It’s his alpha’s decision whether to fuck him, he knows that - he wouldn’t have it any other way. He would lay here and cry with need all night if he was told to and he would be gratified to obey, but he hopes - it would feel so good - he longs to be filled.

His hips twitch again, pressing up against Grindelwald’s weight in a futile attempt to turn over and show him his winking hole.  He tosses his head side to side as frustration builds inside him, and Grindelwald looks down in apparent fascination as he fists his hands into the sheets and tries to reconcile the warring instincts to stay where his alpha put him and to present himself to be bred.

Grindelwald lets him squirm for a long, torturous moment before climbing off his hips to sit beside him on the bed, smiling indulgently as he does so.  The moment his hips are free Percival rolls over, body moving without thought to spread his legs and pull his knees up beneath himself, showing Grindelwald exactly how much he's dripping for his cock.  Grindelwald sucks in a breath when he sees; he’s glistening wet, the insides of his thighs coated with slick as his hole tenses and winks invitingly. Percival shivers when Grindelwald’s big hands fall on his ass, squeezing and groping as Percival presses back into it and it feels so good -

“Ah-ah,” Grindelwald reprimands gently.  “Hold still for me, pet, or I won’t touch you.”

Percival whimpers, hips rocking desperately.  He doesn’t understand why Grindelwald’s hands stopped moving, it had been so nice and promised so much more… He pushes his hips up higher, arching his back to make himself as fuckable as possible, he’d do anything his alpha wanted if he just understood what that was.

“Stay.”  The commanding tone reaches something in Percival’s hazy, soft mind.  It takes him a long, slow moment to puzzle out Grindelwald’s meaning, but when it finally slots into place he stills.  Stay still. He’s supposed to stay still. His hips stop rocking and he presses his chest deeper into the pillows, showing his submission.

“My, you’re a stupid little thing.  You can’t even understand a word I say, can you?  Your little pussy is so hungry there’s no room in that head of yours for anything else.  Well don’t worry sweetheart, omegas don’t need their brains. I’d just fuck it out of you anyway.”

Percival moans.  When Grindelwald starts massaging him again it’s so very difficult not to push into it, to seek out more and offer himself up for the taking.  But he’s good, and he will take exactly what he’s given.

Grindelwald squeezes, pulling his ass cheeks apart and exposing his tender pink entrance, making his spine melt and his thighs quake as he rubs his thumbs so very close to his aching rim.

So close, but not touching.  Grindelwald makes him wait, taking his time inspecting every inch of his new omega.  Percival can feel his gaze, and he hopes so desperately that he likes what he sees. He couldn’t stand it if he wasn’t pleasing enough, if he didn’t make his alpha hard and Grindelwald didn’t want to knot him - he doesn’t know what he’d do.  He’d have no purpose.

“What a pretty pussy,” he murmurs, and Percival flushes warm all over.  With deliberate purpose Grindelwald holds Percival open, using the tip of one finger to ever so slowly stroke his quivering opening.  

Percival sobs, hips thrusting backwards without his consent and causing that precious touch to vanish before he even really feels it.  It leaves his flesh burning as though on fire, his hole spasming, frustrated tears rolling down his cheeks, and even though he stills again immediately Grindelwald’s finger doesn't come back to that most sensitive spot.  Instead he continues his exploration, petting the insides of Percival’s thighs and working his way gradually closer to the little cock that dangles between his legs.

He runs a finger down the small shaft, but although Percival shivers he manages to keep his position.  It feels nice, really nice - he doesn’t want Grindelwald to stop. But his cock isn’t as sensitive as his throbbing hole, it doesn’t ignite the same need in his belly as having his opening teased, when there’s a chance that he could be fucked and mated.  Even when Grindelwald takes it between his thumb and forefinger and tugs on the soft flesh, as though milking, he’s able to bite his lip and keep his hips from bucking. There’s nothing he can do with his cock, anyway; it can’t be any bigger than Grindelwald’s thumb, nothing like a strong, thick, alpha dick.  It’s just a limp bit of flesh that makes his belly warm with pleasure when it’s squeezed.

Grindelwald hums as he toys with it, pleased with Percival’s obedience, and the sound vibrates down his spine.  He’s being good, he’s making his alpha happy, and that’s all he can ask for.

Percival yelps when Grindelwald gives the head a sudden, quick pinch before letting go of it all together.  He can’t control the way his body jerks with the pain but for once Grindelwald doesn’t reprimand him, running a hand over the smooth skin of his ass before spreading him open once again.

“Be good for me, pet, hmm?”

Grindelwald doesn’t wait for an answer, and Percival wouldn’t know how to give one.  Holding him open with one hand he uses his index finger to press against the open, wanting little pucker, the gentle pressure a mere suggestion of what might follow.

Percival wails, high and pained with the effort of keeping himself still when faced with something he so desperately wants.  If Grindelwald would just slide his finger inside - if he’d just fuck him with it - before this moment Percival hadn’t known what it meant to want.

He could take Grindelwald’s finger effortlessly with how wet and loose he is, and while he manages to hold his hips still his hole clenches and slackens beneath Grindelwald’s finger, doing everything it can to invite him inside.  Percival clutches at the sheets, toes curling, and Grindelwald uses the pad of his finger to pet his opening.

Percival only realizes he let his hips roll when the bliss of being teased by Grindelwald’s finger is replaced with the sting of his palm across his ass.  He cries out, fresh tears springing to his eyes. A raw heat blooms where Grindelwald struck him, but worse than that is the knowledge that he disobeyed his alpha so badly.  A deep shame takes hold in his chest, squeezing at his heart and veering dangerously towards panic; his alpha gave him an order, he knew what he should do but he didn’t, he didn’t listen, he’d been warned but he wasn’t good enough, and now he’s made his alpha angry.

“Hush, there now, no needs to fuss,” Grindelwald says soothingly.  He… he doesn’t sound angry, and Percival dares to open his eyes. “So delicate.  That didn’t even hurt you, but look at all those tears. This is for your own good, sweetheart.  It’s helping you learn.”

“Ah… Alpha…” Percival begs, his head swimming.  He just wants it to be simple, but everything’s all muddled.  He doesn’t know why Grindelwald would hit him if he wasn’t angry, and he doesn’t know why he wouldn’t be angry when Percival disobeyed him so badly.  He squeezes his eyes shut again, overwhelmed with the uncertainty and the arousal still raging undiminished through his system.

“I know, it’s too much for that pretty head.  Let’s just try again, okay love?”

Grindelwald helps Percival shift back into position, and just a moment later his finger is back stroking his opening as though they’d never been interrupted.  The hot, melting pleasure blooms in Percival’s belly and travels up his spine, each stroke of Grindelwald’s finger sending another wave of heat out to the tips of his fingers and toes.   “Ohh,” Percival moans, and gradually everything becomes easy again.  The pleasure washes away every trace of uncertainty or fear, leaving him floating in Grindelwald’s care.

He holds himself tightly in place, determined to do well, the muscles in his thighs and stomach taught with effort.

“Good boy,” Grindelwald tells him, and Percival leaks slick all over his finger.

It’s torment.  Percival craves to just give in, to act purely on instinct and give up all control, but he’s trapped here instead - caught in the act of losing his mind, clinging on to it so hard even though his deepest wish is to never have another clear thought again.

Grindelwald deepens his touch, rubbing tight, wet circles right against his soft rim, and Percival’s hole gives yet Grindelwald still refuses to penetrate him.  He holds back a tiny jerk of his hips, the muscles in his thigh jumping, and Grindelwald coos praise at him for it.

A sheen of sweat has broken out across Percival’s back, his breath coming in uneven gasps.  He doesn't know what more he can do. If there were anything, anything at all that would make his alpha fuck him, he would do it now.

Grindelwald just keeps rubbing, rubbing, leaning down close to him and kissing the small of his back.  Percival mewls and Grindelwald continues. His kisses his way up Percival’s spine, unhurried and languid, taking care to press a wet, open mouthed kiss to each and every vertebra.  By the time he makes it to Percival’s nape his spine has turned to mush. He's quivering, oversensitized. There's nothing he can do but cry when Grindelwald nips at his earlobe, swirling his tongue as he suckles on it before pulling off again with a wet pop.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” Grindelwald whispers.  “Has anybody been inside that little pussy?”

Percival takes a shuddery breath, more due to Grindelwald’s continued rubbing than his words.  It takes him a long time to focus enough to comprehend the question, each wisp of a thought floating away under Grindelwald's hand, but his alpha is patient.

“Hmmm,” Percival moans, “mm - mph, oh…”

“Come on little darling,” Grindelwald coaxes, his voice sweet like honey.  “Tell me.”

Percival shivers, gasps, struggles for breath - “Oh… I, ah - n-no… oh… ohhh…”

He never thought he would be so glad of that.  Of course he’d been curious, he’d tried things on his own, but even during his heats his family had made sure no one else went near him.  And now - now, he’s untouched for his alpha.

“Oh, pet,” Grindelwald breathes, and all at once he ceases that steady, maddening rubbing.  His fingertip rests against Percival’s entrance just on the cusp of pushing through to his soft insides, and Percival forgets how to breathe.  He’s so close now, so very close. His heart flutters, stomach tightening in anticipation, so eager and so ready. His body knows he needs it. “So good for me.”

Grindelwald’s finger breaches him in one smooth motion, sliding in deep until he’s buried to the knuckle.  Percival’s body offers no resistance; his channel is slick and wet, opening up effortlessly to allow Grindelwald inside him and squeezing around his finger, clinging to it and reveling in no longer being empty.  Percival’s eyes roll back, his entire body relaxing with the relief of finally having something to press against his insides.

He tries to say thank you, thank you Alpha, but all he can manage is a high, needy keen.  He’s panting, clutching at the sheets, brimming with gratitude even as the muscles in his channel squeeze and clench to pull him in deeper -

“Fuck yourself.”

Percival’s body is moving before his mind processes the order.  He thrusts his hips backwards, clumsy at first but soon finding an even rhythm which sends bolts of pleasure along his nerves.  It feels so natural to rock his body onto Grindelwald’s hand, to roll his hips and grind down, and he knows without a doubt he was made for this; made for fucking, for being penetrated and filled.

Grindelwald keeps his hand still, letting Percival take everything he needs while he watches.  Percival can feel his gaze, hot and lustful as it roams over his ass, his opening, watching the undulations of his body as he fucks himself and slipping down between his legs to where his little cock swings back and forth.  His laughter is delighted, watching that bit of flesh bounce and flop as Percival does his very best to impale himself on Grindelwald’s hand.

“Oh, sweetheart…”  For the first time there’s a hint of strain in Grindelwald’s voice; the barest suggestion that he is not unaffected by Percival’s wantonness.  It sends a dagger of hope through Percival’s chest. Having Grindelwald’s finger inside him is nice - so much better than being empty - but as he rolls his hips so desperately he realizes it will never be enough.  He needs more than a finger, more than two or three or four fingers; he needs cock.

He can’t hold it back any longer, he simply doesn’t know how.  “Oh - oh - please!” he cries.  He’s close to panic.  If he doesn’t get Grindelwald’s cock inside him now he’s surely going to die, he’ll burn up from the heat in his blood or collapse from the yawning emptiness in his core, but either way it’s impossible that he’ll survive.  “Alpha - ahh, p - uh - please, pl… need, need it -”  Tears stream down his cheeks as he begs incoherently, losing all rhythm in his movements.  He can’t keep track of it anymore, can’t keep track of his body or his words or his alpha, it all escapes him as he writhes.

Then Grindelwald’s finger is gone.  He wails, feeling the loss like a physical pain screaming through his nerves, and presses back frantically to search for it, to search for Grindelwald’s cock, for anything to fill him up and save him.

Why won’t his alpha save him?  He’s teetering on the very brink, he just needs - he needs -

Firm hands grip his hips, pulling him backwards and angling him.  Grindelwald’s hold may as well be iron, wrapping around his hip bones and squeezing hard enough to bruise.  There’s no squirming out of that grip, no way to get closer or farther or to move at all.

Something brushes against Percival’s hole.  Something hot, and thick, and oh - it’s the answer to Percival’s despair.  He hadn’t even heard the rustle of fabric as Grindelwald undressed, but he can feel that hard cock as Grindelwald rolls his hips forwards once, twice, thrusting his length against Percival’s hole even without yet pushing inside.

“I’m going to fuck you now, little darling,” he says, a rough edge to his voice.  “I'm going to fuck that needy hole, and, mmm… I'm going to enjoy it.”

For once Grindelwald doesn't hesitate.  He lines up his cock, the head fitting right up against that little opening, Percival’s hole already yielding to the slight pressure in invitation.  He barely has time to draw a breath before the pressure starts to increase. The head slips inside easily and on reflex Percival’s body grips it, determined to pull it deeper, making Grindelwald hiss and swear.

Inch by inch Grindelwald slides inside that slick channel, opening him up easy as butter.  It presses against his insides just right, making him see stars and flooding him with pure, heady relief.  Grindelwald just keeps pushing in, in, in, filling him right to his molten core and opening him so wide, finally using his body as it was intended.  Percival has the dizzying feeling that his entire life was building up to this; everything he'd ever done, ever tried for, ever wanted, leading him here and preparing him to serve his purpose for his king - for his alpha.

When Grindelwald is seated to the hilt he stills, just for a moment - his hips roll and Percival feels the entire length of Grindelwald inside him, his own body rolling in response with more pleasure than he can hold, a wave rolling through him and making his soft dick dribble as he comes around his alpha’s cock.

Grindelwald growls - a low, feral sound which makes Percival’s spine prickle - and slams his hips forward brutally, forcing the air from Percival’s lungs as he fucks into him.

He’s never felt anything like that thick cock pumping in and out of him, stirring him up inside and stretching him so good.  Grindelwald fucks him hard and deep, each thrust shaking him to his core with its power and forcing breathy little gasps of uh, uh, uh, past his lips.  His eyes fall shut.  His whole body is awash with pleasure - how could there have been a time when he didn’t want this?  He’s been waiting for two decades of his life and he’s finally getting everything he needs. He’s found his purpose in belonging to his alpha, and each stroke of Grindelwald’s cock only makes him more certain.

The tension in his muscles gradually begins to unwind as his body realizes that everything is all right now.  He can relax and let go, because his alpha is taking care of him. His alpha is using him, and all Percival has to do is let him.  It’s easy. The desperation he’d been carrying melts away, his jaw going slack and his hands releasing their clenched hold on the sheets.  Before long he’s limp and pliant in Grindelwald’s grip, his entire body slack and relaxed and moving with each slap of Grindelwald’s hips against his ass.  It’s so nice to lay there with the pleasure numbing his mind, feeling so soft and simple and utterly at peace.

He has no idea how long Grindelwald fucks him.  He has no say in whether Grindelwald keeps fucking him or not, so it doesn’t matter if he keeps track.  He just enjoys it. He just feels.

Eventually Grindelwald’s cock starts to thicken at the base, tugging a little more at his rim each time he pulls back.  It feels good to be stretched like that, made to open up even wider and take it, his delicate muscles giving in and aching so wonderfully each time Grindelwald forces his knot inside.  Each thrust opens him up a little more, taking him wider, wider, until his body simply can’t stretch anymore.

Grindelwald forces his cock in one last time, grunting with the effort, and when he pulls back and tugs against his rim Percival keens.  He’s stuck on Grindelwald’s cock, impaled straight through his core, and on reflex he squeezes down to feel it. The shock of pleasure makes his eyes roll back in his head.  His body jerks as his hole rhythmically milks Grindelwald’s knot, and his own soft cock dribbles out another trickle of clear omega come. A moment later Grindelwald’s hips jerk violently, slamming forward as though he could get even deeper inside Percival’s body, as though he could own him any more than he already does -

“Oh, yes,” Grindelwald manages.  “Going to fill you, pet - fill you so - uh - so deep -”

Percival can feel Grindelwald’s cock pulse and throb inside him and he moans as he spills within him, warming up his insides, the feeling almost better than his own orgasm.

For long moments the only sound is Grindelwald’s heavy breath from above him.  The sudden stillness echoes in the room, resounding and all encompassing after such passion.  Slowly Grindelwald’s grip loosens from his hips. His fingers leave dusky bruises where he held so tightly to his omega, perfectly matching the ones which adorn his neck and shoulders, smarting a little when Grindelwald presses on them again.  He runs gentle fingers up Percival’s sides, smoothing down his back, and Percival sighs in contentment. His whole body is singing with pleasure, his mind floating somewhere distant, and when Grindelwald gathers him up in his arms he feels as though he’s been wrapped in a warm, heavy blanket.  Carefully Grindelwald rolls them to the side, tucking Percival in against his bare chest as he settles into the pillows. It’s blissful; there’s nowhere Percival would rather be than here on his alpha’s knot and in his arms, matching his own heartbeat to his breathing.

“You were so good for me,” Grindelwald says, still just a little bit breathless, and Percival burrows closer.  “Such a good little slut… You took my seed so well.” Grindelwald’s hand brushes down his side, settling right over his lower belly.  “I’ll fuck you until you catch, sweet thing. You’ll look so beautiful swollen with my pups.”

Percival’s heart flip flops in a way he can’t identify, squeezing in his chest as Grindelwald pets his belly right where his children will grow inside him.  He doesn’t know what he’s feeling. It seems as though it might be important, cutting through the heavy afterglow, so even though his mind is slow and heavy he tries to figure it out.  

He feels… his body feels good.  His nerves still echo with pleasure, and when he squeezes around his alpha’s knot the feeling is divine, making him tingle down to his toes.  Grindelwald’s arms around him keep him safe and loved, sheltered from anything which might hurt him - nothing bad can happen to him while he’s in Grindelwald’s arms.  And he said that he would look beautiful, which makes him flush and squirm with how much he wants his alpha to call him that.

So he must be… excited.  Yes, that seems right. Even though it doesn’t really feel like excitement he can’t think what else it could possibly be, and he feels better now that he’s figured it out.  A slow, dazed smile spreads across his face, and Grindelwald’s chuckle has a current of something dark in it.

“You’re going to love it,” he says, and that settles it.  Percival will love it. “I’ll keep you bred up nice and full.  Your womb will never be empty, darling, you’re going to give me so many beautiful pups.”

Percival hums in contentment, almost purring while his alpha rubs his belly.  His body wants Grindelwald to put a child in him, to be a fertile place for him to plant his seed.  How did he not realize this was his entire purpose? It’s so obvious. His body was created to be bred, and he craves it so deeply that his hole squeezes again; as though he could pull Grindelwald’s seed deeper inside, deeper into his waiting womb.

“Mmm, that’s right.  Don’t worry, pet. You’ll be carrying before dawn.”

Percival just sighs, enjoying the feeling of his alpha’s body pressed so close against his own and basking in the relief of knowing that everything is taken care of and decided.  He wonders absently if Grindelwald’s seed has already caught, another funny little burst of - of excitement running through him at the prospect, but he’s too preoccupied with Grindelwald’s roaming hands for the thought to do more than flicker through his mind.

One hand still wraps beneath him and rests on his stomach while the other wanders higher, ghosting up over his ribs to squeeze and caress the subtle rise of his pectorals.  Grindelwald cups him as though he had a full breast, massaging generously as he murmurs in Percival’s ear. He can feel his breath against his cheek as he speaks, his voice pitched low and intimate and dripping with desire.

“Soon you’ll swell to nurse my child.  Your body was made to be my vessel and that’s all you are, sweet thing.  A pretty body to be fucked and bred.”

Percival hums in distracted agreement, eyes fluttering and rolling back as it turns into a moan of pleasure when Grindelwald pinches one of his nipples and rolls it between his thumb and forefinger.  His chest feels hot and tight, aching so good beneath the skin. His core is soft and molten.

Grindelwald teasing and stroking his nipples brings the needs which had been momentarily sated flowing back to the surface.  Grindelwald is going soft inside him, losing that thick knot, and moment by moment Percival starts to lose the calm which being properly filled brought him.  He squirms, pressing his chest forward into Grindelwald’s hand and his ass back against his hips. He needs it again, he needs it urgently.

“Needy boy,” Grindelwald says, voice tight as Percival squeezes around his shaft.  He whimpers, hips rolling without any conscious control, his body taking over. His opening pulses, holding on tight, inviting Grindelwald to fuck him again and leaking slick around the thick cock still buried in his core.  He’s a sheath for Grindelwald’s cock, and it’s all his body knows how to be.

It isn’t long before Grindelwald is rocking into him again, his solid length pressing against Percival’s insides and sliding gloriously against the walls of his channel.  Each thrust is a magnificent invasion of Percival’s very being, touching something deep inside which makes him twitch and drool from the whiteout pleasure.

“You should - oh, yes - should see yourself, pet,” Grindelwald manages between thrusts.  “Dumb little breeding bitch.”

A giggle bubbles up past Percival’s lips.  He’d never thought of himself like that before, but the words slot into his head and feel right.  He wants that, he wants to be a mindless little body for Grindelwald to fuck and seed with pups. Another dumb omega, put in his place by alpha cock.

His little dick dribbles out another orgasm at the thought.

Grindelwald fucks him well into the night, until he’s loose and sloppy with come, rim twitching but his muscles exhausted and unable to tighten any longer.  Grindelwald pauses only long enough for his knot to go down each time before pounding into him again, filling him to the brim once more.

Percival falls asleep to the rhythm of being fucked, safe in his alpha’s arms.

Chapter Text

The world is soft and cozy.  His body is supported by a downy mattress and wrapped up in plush blankets, gentle summer sunlight warming any patch of exposed skin.  He’s loose and comfortably sore, aching pleasantly across his neck and shoulders and between his legs when he shifts to burrow deeper into the bed, basking in how wonderful he feels.  It’s as though he’s rising from a blissful dream, and he hides his head in the pillows to block out the morning light and postpone the moment of awakening.

There’s a strong presence against his back, and when he shifts again a hand falls on his hip, petting him and helping him settle.  The touch is instantly reassuring; he is completely safe, and the only thing which matters are the fingers trailing down his thigh.  He drifts away, everything fuzzy and out of reach, and sleep claims him again easily.

When his mind next rises towards the surface it’s to the feeling of his nipples being rolled between strong fingers, his whole chest hot and achy.   

“Mmhm…”  He squirms to get more of that wonderful massage, and the hands invite him closer until he’s curling against a strong body and tucking his head into his alpha’s shoulder, eyes still blissfully shut.

“Good morning, little pet,” Grindelwald murmurs into his hair.  

Percival gives a soft hum in reply and snuggles closer into his embrace.  It’s as though he’s made to be here with how well he fits in his alpha’s arms, small enough to be pulled in and held close.  Feeling Grindelwald’s skin against his own is the purest sort of comfort.

Grindelwald’s fingers play with his body, one hand firmly on his nape while the other tickles the small of his back, giving his ass a brief squeeze before roaming upwards to stroke his spine, leaving tingles in his wake.

Percival doesn’t realize he’d dozed off again until he’s roused by Grindelwald’s cock slipping inside.  He’s been rolled over so that Grindelwald can take him from behind, still tight against him but with his back to Grindelwald’s chest now, with one knee pulled up to expose his entrance.  He’s still soft and wet down there. Grindelwald penetrates him easily, his hole opening up to welcome him inside his body and his belly flooding with warmth as he’s speared.

Thank you Alpha, Percival tries to say, but it comes out as a sleepy mumble which just makes Grindelwald nip at his ear affectionately.

Percival doesn’t try to do much after that, content to let himself get fucked while he relaxes into the thrusts and enjoys Grindelwald using his body.  He’s proud to be somewhere Grindelwald likes to put his come.

It isn’t long before Grindelwald’s knot catches, locking his cock inside its sheath and plugging Percival comfortably full.  He can still feel his insides being stretched by that length as load after load of come is pumped into his belly.

For a long moment Grindelwald just grips him, hips rocking forward, until eventually Percival feels his breathing steady.  “Oh, darling,” Grindelwald groans, his voice heavy with satisfaction. “You take it so well.”

Grindelwald shifts them, wrapping his arms around Percival and moving carefully.  His cock tugs at his rim with each movement, but to Percival’s immense relief his knot keeps it lodged firmly inside, still much too big to risk slipping loose.  Grindelwald moves Percival’s body as he likes to find a comfortable position, and after a few moments Percival finds himself in his alpha’s lap, leaning back against his chest while Grindelwald reclines on the many cushions at the head of the bed.

Grindelwald has unimpeded access to Percival’s body like this, able to pinch at his nipples and cock, wrap an arm tight around his hips, and rub the little swell of Percival’s belly where he’s taken his cock and come.  It doesn’t take long for Percival to decide he likes the position very much, giggling as Grindelwald tickles his side.

“What a difference a day makes,” Grindelwald muses, and Percival hums without really understanding his words.

“Do you even remember?  You hated me yesterday, pet.”

Percival frowns at that, momentarily distracted from Grindelwald’s teasing fingers.  His mind is still fogged with sleep and sex, but what Grindelwald says stirs something inside him.  He hadn’t really hated his alpha, had he? How could he have? He tries to think back, back past being greeted with Grindelwald’s touches this morning, past being taken care of so well during his heat the night before, back to when he first learned he’d been chosen as his king’s omega.

The memory is as hazy as the rest of his mind, but he recalls a vague feeling of… discomfort?  He isn’t sure, and the memory doesn’t make sense anyway, because why would he be anything less than ecstatic that Grindelwald was going to mate him?  It’s the only thing he’s ever truly wanted.

He thinks as carefully as his slow mind is able, but the only thing he feels for his alpha is love.

He shakes his head, biting his lip on a little whimper of confusion.

“You did.  You came to my castle and thought you could show contempt for your king, but look at you now - nestled on my knot just waiting for my child to grow inside you.  A brainless little omega in heat, just as you should be.”

That feels right.  Percival nods, comforted that Grindelwald doesn’t truly think such awful things.  “Need you,” he says, voice soft.

“Yes, you do.  You’re a weak, needy creature, dear thing.”

Percival can scarcely believe how lucky he is to have an alpha as strong and understanding as Grindelwald.

The rest of the morning is spent in luxury.  Grindelwald calls for a servant to bring breakfast, and feeds it to Percival while he’s still sitting on his knot.  The food is truly fit for a king; the platter abounds with slices of sweet apples, apricots, and even peaches, along with soft white bread.  Percival has never had such a breakfast.

Grindelwald feeds it to him bite by bite, lifting each morsel to his lips and letting Percival take it from the tips of his fingers.  The luscious flavor bursts across his tongue, and on the first bite his eyes flutter shut in appreciation.

The sun slowly climbs in the sky while Grindelwald feeds him bits of fruit and bread, stroking his hair and telling him how good he is.  And Percival always wants to be good. He’s buoyant with the relief of never needing to make another decision, never needing to think for himself or be anything other than a willing sheath for Grindelwald’s cock.  He’ll want for nothing.

When the tray is finally empty Grindelwald wipes a drop of peach juice from Percival’s chin, allowing him to suckle on the sweetness and lick his fingers clean again.  Percival floats with contentment, comfortably full and warm. Wonderful images bloom in his mind of the life Grindelwald will give him, and he smiles at the thought; he wants Grindelwald to fuck him again, to see himself swell with child, for the whole world to see who he belongs to.

Everything else, everything that came before - he lets it go.  It’s not important now, and it never will be again.

He’s happy.