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to have and to hold

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His world was smoke and pain. No matter how far he flew or for how long, he couldn’t out run the pain.


But Credence didn’t know what else to do, so he flew and flew and flew.


He doesn’t know how much time has passed, only that all of a sudden, he catches a whiff of something dark. Rich. Thick and cloying.


The smoke doesn’t want to run anymore, instead it focuses itself, seeking more of the scent.


Credence lets it guide him (he too, wants more).


They move together, faster and faster; a rolling cloud of intent.


The scent is getting thicker. More evident. Credence keeps moving. Further. Faster.


He flies right into a wall. The smoke screeches in fury, trying to get around the barrier. He’s so close.


It’s a brick wall. A house. What he needs is inside.


He can’t stop now. Won’t stop.


The smoke gathers tightly around Credence, and with pin-point precision stabs at the barrier. Again, and again until it crumbles beneath the onslaught of power.


Credence rushes inside. He’s getting close. He’s so very close, Credence can taste it. The scent reminds him of a time he had handed out pamphlets near a chocolate shop. The smell of melting butter and rich cocoa had hung around the shop in a heavenly aroma. Credence had spent the majority of that day staring at the shop window longingly, rather than handing out his pamphlets (the resulting punishment had been severe enough that Credence had never gone back).


This smells like that. Except somehow better still. Credence’s stomach clenches, but it is not from hunger.


There. A door. Credence grasps the knob, but the door won’t open.


An inhumane shriek escapes him. He’s so close. He wants. He needs.


Once again, his smoke attacks whatever is preventing his entry. It tears it away until the knob finally turns in Credence’s hand.


The young man throws the door wide open and steps inside.


The scent is so overwhelming that Credence drops to his knees, a gush of something wet escapes him and slides down his thighs.


Something inside the room moves. There is a jangle of chains. A grunt.


“Mate,” comes the gruff welcome.


Credence means to ask questions: Who are you? What is that smell? Why are you here? But what leaves his lips is a desperate, drawn-out whine. More wetness gathers between his thighs.


Credence doesn’t understand what’s happening. He doesn’t know why his body is reacting the way it is. All that he knows is that he needs.


The man crawls forward, heavy chains encircle his wrists and drag behind him. He reaches for Credence, but is pulled short by the chains. The man growl, yanking at the chains. Trying desperately to get to Credence who is just out of reach.


Oh, and how those growls make Credence shiver in a way he never has before. He’s not cold at all, rather, he’s sweating right through his shirt. And his pants? His thighs are so wet.


The man is clawing at his chains. Credence can see the way his hands shake, can hear the litany of words that make no sense at all.


“Smell so good. Want to eat you out. Need to taste, need to taste…”


Credence is burning from the inside out. He’s so hot, and his clothing are scratching at his sensitive skin. Credence pulls them off. He doesn’t stop as the fabric rips and buttons pop. He needs it all off now.


When he’s done, Credence realizes the man has stopped moving. He stares at Credence’s bared body with open hunger, something pressed to his face—oh that’s Credence’s pants. He must have flung them closer in his rush to get undressed.


“Little omega,” the man says. “Come closer. Let me take care for you.”


Credence doesn’t know where it comes from, but there are little whines escaping his throat. A string of them, no matter how hard he tries to stay quiet.


“Come here, I’ll make you feel so good. Come closer,” the man keeps repeating.


As if in a trance, Credence rolls to his knees and crawls forward, more liquid running down his thighs. “Sir, what’s happening?” Credence asks, voice quivering.


“I’ll take care of you. You’re almost there, little Omega. Just a little closer.”


Credence’s arms are shaking. The man’s voice sounds so good, the deep timber washing over the younger man in comforting waves. Just a little closer.


The man was kneeling now, knees spread wide, so Credence crawls right into the space there, nuzzles at the man’s stomach and feels big, rough hands caress through his hair and down the slope of his shoulder.


In a quick movement, Credence has been hoisted into the man’s lap. His arms instinctively wind around the older man’s neck, bringing their faces closer together.


And then there is a mouth against his. Hard and hot, causing Credence to gasp in delight. And now there was a tongue in his mouth, doing sinful things. All Credence can do is hold on as best as he can and ride it out. He tries to reciprocate, but the older man just winds a hand in the younger man’s hair, and controls the kiss.


Eventually they pull apart, Credence panting for breath as the other man kisses down his neck.


“You smell so good, little Omega. Let me taste you,” The man says against the soft skin of Credence’s throat.


“You already did,” Credence says, a little confused but too distracted to actually care.


And oh, the man was smiling against his skin, teeth offering a little nip against the hollow of this throat.


“I wasn’t talking about your mouth, little darling,” the man says, and oh, that tone of voice did things to Credence’s insides. He didn’t know what the man meant, but he wanted.


The man’s wonderful hands are skimming down Credence’s back, caressing the curve of his back side, making Credence rock his hips instinctively back to get more, and also forward against—OH!


His cock was lining up against something big and hard. Credence looks at the man’s eyes in shock.


“Feel something you like, sweetheart?” The man asks, holding Credence by the hips and grinding their cocks together until Credence is nearly screaming.


“So good, little Omega. You need it too, don’t you? Need to be fucked and bred.”


“Please, please, please…” Credence doesn’t know what he’s pleading for, only that this man will give it to him.

The man moves to hold Credence by the small of his back, big hand pressing there to free his other to trace along the place where Credence is gushing.


“OH! YES! Please…” Credence is trembles as a single digit circles his small pucker of flesh, already gaping open in a way it never had in the past.


“Little Omega, you’re soaked…” The man rumbles. “Let me have a taste.”


Just as the man had maneuvered Credence into his lap, he manages to flip Credence until his ass is level with the man’s face, and his body draped over the man’s legs.


And then.




Credence is writhing and whining, nearly sobbing with pleasure.


The man’s mouth is everywhere. His tongue drags lazy circles around Credence’s rim, his bearded cheeks scarp across sensitive thighs, and soft lips suckles at the flesh. And then that sinful tongue is dipping in, in, in—Credence is truly crying, fat tears trailing down his face.


“Oh my god, oh! Oh! Yesssss… please, please, please!” He’s an incoherent mess.


The man goes fast, and strong the more vocal Credence gets. Ravaging his flesh. What had the man called it? Eating him.


Just when Credence thinks he’s about to explode from the pleasure, the man rubs a thumb against Credence’s over-sensitive rim. Just a gentle tease, before pushing it all the way into the Omega’s willing body.


Credence only hears the echo of his scream once the white stars across his vision fade away and the roar of blood in his ears subside.


He’s been moved against, flipped so his front is facing the man, his tongue cleaning Credence of his release.


“Just as I thought, little Omega. You’re delicious.”


Oh, how quickly Credence’s body could recover in the wake of those words. He could feel his cock filling under the gentle attention of the man’s tongue.


“Already ready for more, I see,” the man teases, rough hands surprisingly gentle as he helps Credence sit up in his lap once more.


Except the man’s pants vanished at some point and how his cock is curving perfectly against Credence’s ass, fat tip brushing against his gaping entrance.


Credence grinds down on instinct, a long hiccupping whine escaping his throat.


The man’s hands tighten at the sound, but he doesn’t push Credence any further.


“We have to go slow, little one. Heat or not, you could get hurt,” The man says. Credence doesn’t know what he means, only knows that he needs that fat cock inside him now. Credence grinds his hips back in response and has the satisfaction of seeing the man’s eyes darken.


“Slow, darling. Otherwise I’ll have to pin you down.”


Credence’s stomach flutters happily at the thought. That’s a terrible incentive.


But, before Credence could do or say anything, the tip of the man’s cock is nudging against Credence’s puffy rim, and all Credence can think is, God, he’s HUGE.


Just as quickly, the tip was popped inside, and Credence could feel the burn of the stretch. But it was so good. It is only due to the man’s hands that Credence is kept from rocking backward to take more.


Credence resorts to begging instead.


“Please, please, I need more. I need it all. Please, please, please.”


He was rewarded by another inch stretching him so good.


“Yes, yes, yes, more, please! Wait—“


The man was pulling out, until only the very tip remained in Credence.


“No, please. I need it,” Credence cried out. The man gently nuzzled at his neck before replying,


“I know.”


Then he pushed back in, hard. Giving Credence more than what he had previously.


“YES!” Credence cries, ass clenching greedily along the length inside. He feels the man groan against his skin.


“You little minx. You’ll be the death of me,” the man said as he gently rocked forward, feeding Credence more and more of this cock.


The man keeps slowly feeding his cock into Credence, and sometimes pulling almost all the way out before ramming back in.


By the time he was nearly fully sheathed, Credence was a panting mess, hands scratching at the man’s chest, leaving behind great big welts (which only seemed to encourage the other man further.)


Credence was stuffed so full. The man teased a thumb along his stretched rim, causing the young man to moan again and again, his whole body shaking with pleasure. He doesn’t think he could take anymore.


“’m full,” Credence pants, whole body strung tight.


“You’re nearly there sweetheart,” the man says, but he does reach a hand down to Credence’s swollen cock, stocking him nice and tight.


Credence thrashed in the man’s arms, balanced on the knife’s edge of release.


“Come for me, little Omega. Come.” The man whispers in his ear.


And boy, does it work.


Credence screams through his second release of the night, body clenching and releasing against the thick length inside his body. The man strokes him though it, much to Credence’s despair. His orgasm stretches on for what feels like hours, and at the end of it all, Credence’s body crumples forward, his body going limp and the man’s cock slides in the last inch.


Credence can’t manage more than a gargled half-moan at the intrusion.


The man rubs his back comfortingly, allowing Credence to recover a bit.


A few minutes later, Credence is happily rocking along the man’s cock, mouthing hungrily across his neck.


“Ready?” the man asked. Credence doesn’t know what for, but he nods anyway. Everything else has been good up to now.


Oh, but he was not ready for this.


The man had Credence by the hips again—he was going to have some wicked bruises later—slamming Credence down on his cock, grinding against a place that made Credence see stars.


Credence digs his nails into the man’s shoulders, trying to hold on despite being bounced on the man’s cock like a doll.


And the man’s mouth was back on Credence’s neck, nipping at the flesh and soothing with his tongue. Credence is hard again, rocking along with the thrusts, riding the waves of pleasure as best as he can.


“My mate. My beautiful mate. Going to knot you, going to stuff you so full...” the man was babbling, pushing into Credence with increasing ferocity.


“Yes, yes, please. Take me,” Credence replied, more than happy to do anything the man asked of him.


And something was bulging near the base of the man’s cock. Growing bigger and bigger, catching along Credence’s rim. Credence is about to say something about it when the man pushes the thing into Credence’s gaping body, pulling the younger man down until the thing had been stuffed as deep as possible.


Any complaints Credence could have had are quickly forgotten as the thing swells up to press against that place inside Credence.


Credence releases for the last time, blacking out completely. When he comes to, the man is rubbing his back again—Credence thinks he could get use to this pattern—and his cock is still pressed against that sensitive place, causing Credence to whine in oversensitivity.


The man shushes him gently, “I’m sorry, we’re knotted together. It will go down soon. Just don’t move too much.”


So, Credence buries his face against the man’s neck. The scent earlier is still there, but the effect isn’t as powerful. Credence revels in the comfort of it.


The man noses gently at Credence’s hair as they wait, “You haven’t told me your name, little Omega.”


“Credence.” He says, and is rewarded with a gentle kiss to his temple.


“Lovely to meet you, Credence. My name is—“


“Mr. Graves!” shouts a female voice behind them.


Both men turn to the open door and spot a very flustered Miss Goldstein.


Chapter Text

Credence is currently sitting in a MACUSA office—Graves’ office his mind helpfully supplies—bundled in the man’s heavy coat and several blankets.


The man in question is currently yelling at a woman wearing a very elaborate head…thing.


It is very beautiful, tall and speckled with golden embroidery. Credence just doesn’t quite understand the purpose of the thing. It looks terribly heavy.


Credence thinks he should be more afraid, considering that he is surrounded by the very people that tried to kill him just yesterday. But, as he sits bundled in Graves’ scent, he can’t manage any emotion resembling fear.


Perhaps he’s just tired, it certainly had been a long day. When Tina had found them earlier—still knotted together—it had been a terribly awkward situation. Discovering that the man was Mr. Graves no less, had been nerve-racking. Enough to get Credence to blur at the edges, smokes replacing skin and eyes flashing white.


Tina had been quick to explain the situation, despite the awkward circumstances. She explained that this Mr. Graves, the man with the kind hands and deep voice, was not the Mr. Graves Credence had known. That the other one had been an imposter.


In retrospect, Credence should probably have asked more questions—like how a wizard could steal the appearance of another—but the reality is that Credence just didn’t care at this point.


This Mr. Graves, with kind eyes, gentle hands, and sweet words was real. And he wanted Credence. Had promised he would protect him no matter what.


Maybe it was stupid to trust again so soon. The other Mr. Graves had said those things too—but there was a different to the weight to the words that came from the real Mr. Graves; there was an honesty in his eyes, and a sincerity in the soft press of his mouth behind the scruffy beard.


Don’t get him wrong, the real Mr. Graves could be just as terrifying—he certainly wasn’t holding back on the lady with the head thing—but he had gently wrapped Credence in his coat as he yelled. He had run his fingers through Credence’s hair when he had noticed the young man shivering and asked that blankets be brought up. He had even growled at any Auror that dared come too close to Credence (he’s mine Abernathy, back the fuck off).


And that’s what really mattered. Because despite being surrounded by people who had tried to kill him, Credence felt safe.


It’s been hours since they came into MACUSA, and Credence is feeling the pull of exhaustion. He tries to stifle it, but doesn’t do a very good job. He only realizes he’s yawning when Mr. Graves’ eyes focus on him, gaze heavy and unwavering. Completely in-tune.


Something in Credence preens at the attention. It makes him want to arch his back and expose his neck to the man. So, he does; the blanket pulling down a bit at the motion, revealing a hint of his collarbone.


And, oh. The way Mr. Graves’ nostril flare in response is enough to get Credence hard in his pants.


“Everybody out,” Mr. Graves says to the room at large, his voice a near indecipherable rumble. It makes Credence’s thighs wet.


“Out, everybody out. We’ll talk tomorrow,” the man says, louder this time.


“But, Sir, tomorrow’s Sunday—“ someone tries to say (an Auror most likely).


“Do you think I give a fuck what day of the week it is tomorrow?” Graves shouts. “I’m going home. I dare anyone to try and stop me.”


In the next instant, Graves has scooped Credence into his arms, and with one last glare across the room, disapparates.


They arrive back at Mr. Graves’ apartment. The Aurors fixed the hole Credence had blown into the wall earlier, restoring the brownstone to its former glory. Its exposed brick wall and small fire place illuminating rich carpets and plush armchairs entertain Credence’s eyes while the thick scent of Graves that clings to every piece of the room floods his senses.


Oh, he really was getting quite wet now. Good thing there was so many blankets.


Mr. Graves nuzzles gently at the young man’s hair, holding him close as they walk to the bedroom.


“You smell so good, little Omega,” he says, gently kicking open the door and laying Credence’s bundled body atop the massive master bed.


Credence can’t do much else than squirm in the blankets when the man makes no move to join him on the bed. Laying down as he is, he can’t see where the Mr. Graves has gone.


“Sir… come back,” Credence whines, voice high and breathy.


“Shhh, shhh, my darling it’s alright. I’m just getting a chair,” Mr. Graves says.


Sure enough, the man comes back into Credence’s field of vision with a chair in tow. He settles near Credence’s head, hands automatically reaching up to wind into the young man’s hair, easily appeasing the Omega.


“Want you in the bed,” Credence says, lips pouting in a way he’s never done before.


Mr. Graves’ eyes soften even more at the admission, “I know, little darling. But there are things we need to talk about first,” he says.


Oh no. Just when he thought things were going to be ok. He should have known better, of course Mr. Graves wouldn’t want him now that he knew who he was. Stupid, stupid, stupid—


“Hey, hey, calm down Credence. Breath for me sweetheart. That’s it, shhh…” Mr. Graves croons, hands continuously stroking through Credence’s hair.


But Credence’s eyes are watering, fat tears spilling down his cheeks.


“I don’t want to go,” the young man cries, overwrought by emotional exhaustion.


“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Mr. Graves says, gentle thumbs smoothing away the tear tracks. “After all the work you put into finding me, little darling, did you think I wouldn’t keep you?” Mr. Graves says.


Keep him?


Will you?” Credence sniffles. Could he be so lucky?


Instead of responding, Graves leans forward until he can brush his lips along Credence’s. It’s just a teasing touch—only enough to whet Credence’s appetite. He tips his head, offering up his mouth as best as he can.


Graves takes the invitation, licking into the younger man’s mouth with skillful artistry. He coaxes a symphony of moans from Credence’s lips, who himself can only try to bare himself further to the onslaught of pleasure.


By the time the man pulls back, Credence has escaped from his cocoon of blankets, and his torso is halfway into Graves’ lap.


Still, the young man whines when Mr. Graves pulls away, wrestling Credence’s body back onto the bed.


“Hold on, love. Hold on,” the man huffs, clearly amused by Credence’s enthusiasm. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”


Credence pouts as he’s deposited back into the mound of pillows lining the headboard of the bed. “Do get ahead of yourself, please,” he says.


The man smiles, clearly amused, but makes no move to approach, “You’re a menace, Credence.”


Credence feels like one of the spoiled children he use to see walking the length of 5th avenue, tugging insistently at their parent’s sleeve, always wanting more. Credence had thought those children greedy; couldn’t they see how lucky they were to have parents at all?


Credence feels like one of those children now. He’s in Mr. Graves bed, he has the man within arm’s reach, but it just isn’t enough.


Mr. Graves must read the hunger in Credence’s eyes, because he runs a soothing hand down the side of his Omega, “Soon, darling. We just need to have a quick talk first.”


Credence is about to complain when Mr. Graves levels him with a piercing look, “The quicker we talk, the quicker we can get to the fun stuff,” the man says.


Credence shuts his mouth so fast his teeth clink together.


“Very good, Credence. Now, what do you know of Alphas, Betas, and Omegas?”


For the next hour, Mr. Graves explains to Credence everything about secondary genders. What it means, how they differ, what each needs, or doesn’t need. He explains heats, ruts, scents, and how each can affect the other.


And just when Credence thinks is done, Mr. Graves starts explaining the concept of mates and mating ceremonies.


“Wait,” Credence interrupts. “Alphas can… claim Omegas?” Mr. Graves earlier words echo in the young man’s head: did you think I wouldn’t keep you?


“Yes, that’s the gist of it. But it is illegal to do so without the Omega’s consent. And it’s quite scandalous to do so outside of wedlock. Usually both families must come to an agreement and a ceremony is conducted.”


Credence’s head is spinning at the possibility of being claimed by Mr. Graves. To be kept, safe and cared for. He has no family to consult on the matter, which only leaves one detail.


Credence peaks up between his lashes at Mr. Graves, and asks voice soft and demure, “What’s required for the ceremony?”


Mr. Graves’ keen eyes and quick wit cut through Credence’s thinly veiled question. Or perhaps this is what the Alpha was gearing towards since the beginning.


“It’s a ceremony much like a wedding, there are vows and there is a hand tying ritual. Nothing too complicated,” Mr. Graves says.


“Something we could do tonight?” Credence asks hopefully.


The way Mr. Graves laughs has heat pooling low in Credence’s stomach.


“No, not tonight, sweet thing,” the man says, much to Credence’s disappointment. “But, we could have it sorted by the end of the month,” he amends.


“Yes!” Credence shouts, jumping forward to fling his arms around Mr. Graves’ body. “I accept!”


Mr. Graves makes so move to push Credence back onto the bed. Rather, he holds the Omega closer, nuzzling across his neck and into his hair.


“I’m glad to hear it, my Omega,” Mr. Graves says.


Credence can’t help the way his back arches at the possessive tone, it takes his breath away.


“My… my Alpha,” he says in return.


Mr. Graves’ hips thrust up a little in response—Credence preens at the way he effects his Alpha. So he says it again, and again, just to hear the way Mr. Graves growls and nips at the skin of the Omega’s throat.


Credence is too lost in the sensations to realize that Mr. Graves has moved them back onto the bed—he only registers that the Alpha is snuggly placed in the cradle of Credence’s spread thighs, lazily grinds their hips together.


“Oh, oh, Alpha please…” Credence mewls, body spread out and pliant. Shivering in delight at every electrifying stoke of his Alpha’s cock against his own.


“So good, my little darling. You sing so beautifully for me. Tell me, tell me what you need,” Mr. Graves babbles in a gruff tone.


“Need you, need you everywhere. Please, need you to touch me,” Credence is high on the touches, on feeling his Alpha’s clothes chaffing along his sensitive skin. On the scent of his mate so close, the man’s mouth running hot lines across his throat.


“Where do you need to be touched? Tell me what you need. Let me take care of you,” Mr. Graves only lifts his head long enough to ask his questions before returning his skillful lips to Credence’s skin, mapping his beauty marks like constellations.


“Want to feel your skin on mine, want your hands to hold me close. And…” Credence lets the words pour from his lips like a waterfall. His Alpha wants to know, had asked for what he wanted.


With a snap of his fingers, Mr. Graves has vanished his clothing. “And? What else, my darling.”


“And. I want—oh!” Credence can’t help the moan when his Alpha finds a particularly sensitive spot on his throat. “I want you to touch me like, be—before. Where I’m wet,” Credence says, voice devolving into a whine as the man keeps suckling that spot on his throat.


“Are you wet, little darling? Are you wet for me?” The Alpha asks, hands skimming down the sides of his Omega, coming to rest along the delicate swell of his hips.


“So—so wet,” Credence breathes.


“Show me. Show me how wet you are,” the man says, eyes hot and heavy.


Credence rolls so his ass is in the air, arms propped under him and thighs spread allowing the cool air to kiss his sensitive skin. The Omega has to bite his arm to keep from crying out as the man’s hands roam across his backside, thumbs easily spreading his cheeks.


“Oh baby, you’re just dripping for it aren’t you,” Graves says as the hole winks back at him due to the cool air. “Are you cold, my darling? Let me warm you up,” the man says before diving between the ample cheeks.


Credence screams as the man’s hot tongue licks deep into his body.


“OH! Yes, yesssss….” Credence bites into the nearest pillow in an effort to stifle himself, but he just ends up drooling all over it.


Mr. Graves is relentless, licking and sucking at the puffy rim; playfully nipping at Credence’s ass cheeks anytime he tries to grind back against his Alpha’s mouth.


“Needy thing, aren’t you? Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need,” his Alpha says before fitting his mouth back where Credence wants him most.


Credence feels so stung out. He’s hot all over, and yet he can’t manage to do anything else than rock back in time with the thrusts of Mr. Graves’ tongue.


“Stop teasing. Alpha please, I need you,” Credence pants as the man returns to gently teasing his rim. “Oh, please.”


“You’re doing so well, my darling. You’re so, so good for me. Just a little more,” the man says, one of his hands moving to stroke lightly along Credence’s throbbing cock, making the Omega buck wildly. He hadn’t noticed how hard he was amiss the Alpha’s teasing.


“Have you touched yourself here before? Stroked your little cock as you fingered your dripping hole?” Mr. Graves asks, fingers dancing up and down the underside of Credence’s cock, driving the Omega mad.


Credence shakes his head, black hair fanning out across the pillow. “N—no, not with Ma. I was afraid,” he admits amiss the pleasure of his Alpha’s touches.


Mr. Graves’ hands still on his skin, “Before yesterday, had you ever come, Credence?” The man asks.


Again, Credence shakes his head, hips dancing between his Alpha’s hands in an effort to get him resume his touches, “No, never.”


But the Alpha’s hands retreat to cradle Credence’s hips instead. The man hums in consideration, “Now that just won’t do. It won’t do at all,” the Alpha says tone chastening.


Suddenly, those big hands are flipping Credence’s body so he lands on his back, thighs falling open naturally.


Mr. Graves grasps Credence by the knees, bending his Omega in half until their faces are but a hair’s breadth apart, “We’ll have to do something to reconcile that, now won’t we?”


Credence nods his head frantically as he feels his mate’s fat cock sliding across his weeping hole, and mewls in delight. He rolls his slim hips in an effort to entice the man inside, but his Alpha only teases his tip in slow circles along the young man’s puffy rim.


Credence can’t help the hiccupping moans that are pulled from his throat, begging so sweetly for the man’s cock.


Just as suddenly, Mr. Graves has his tip posed at Credence’s entrance and feeds his length inside. He goes slow, letting the Omega feel every inch.


It feels like an eternity and a single instant simultaneously. The next thing Credence is aware of is that his Alpha is nestled fully inside his body, their hips cradled together. Credence winds his arms around his Alpha’s neck and holds him close. Graves happily nuzzles along Credence’s throat, allowing his Omega the chance to adjust.


When the grip around the Alpha’s cock isn’t so tight anymore, he gives an experimental thrust, which Credence responds to by arching his back and clawing at the man’s back, nearly drawing blood.


Perfect, Graves thinks.


“This is how it’s going to go, my darling,” Mr. Graves says. “I’m going to make you come. I’m going to make you come over and over again with nothing but my cock.


“And when you think you can’t possibly come anymore, I’m going to stuff your little hole full of my knot and stoke your gorgeous little cock until the only cum left inside your body is my own. Do you understand?”


Credence can only stare wide-eyed at his mate. His mouth is too dry to answer verbally, so he nods his head as enthusiastically as he can.


The smile Mr. Graves throws his way is nothing short of predatory, “Good.”

Chapter Text

Graves enters his apartment to the smell of sex.


Which isn’t surprising, to be completely fair. Credence had turned out to be quite the minx once he had had the opportunity to explore his sexuality.


The Omega was open to trying just about anything at least once—sometimes more. The boy loved to play coy when he found something he liked—suggesting that they should try it over gain right this moment so he could puzzle out his feelings.


He was truly insatiable.


So, Graves shouldn’t be surprised by the thick and cloying scent of Credence’s slick perfuming the apartment. The reason that he was surprised, however, was that they hadn’t had the time to do anything that morning.


Graves was working on a rather gruelling case at the moment, which meant late nights at the office and early morning departures. To be completely honest, Graves had been neglecting his little Omega recently.


Clearly, Credence thought so too, since he was taking care of himself during the middle of the day despite fostering a dislike of coming without Graves around. “It’s not as good when I do it. I like it better when it’s you,” Credence had explained once, after begging Graves to stop working for the night and come to bed.


Graves is steadily reprimanding himself as he makes his way to their bedroom—where the scent is thickest—readying an apology and planning ten different ways he could make it up to Credence.


Upon opening the door to their bedroom, he expects to see his Omega fucked-out over slick-soaked sheet, with a string of toys scattered across their bed. Maybe even wrapped up in one of Graves’ shirts (which the Omega was prone to doing when lonely).


What he does not expect is to see Credence kneeling on the bed, thighs spread wide open over a plush fur blanket, delicately thrusting his hips so that only the underside of his drawn-up balls and perineum graze across the soft pelt.


He does not expect to see Credence’s elegant hands dancing across his blushing chest, skimming along his nipples and softly pinching at them as he whines and moans


He does not expect his Omega to be teasing himself, small cock bound tight at the base, leaking profusely and his head thrown back exposing the lovely line of his collared throat.


That had been Credence’s idea as well—the collar. He liked the physical reminder of their mating. He wore it out in public, preening like a peacock. “You are mine, as much as I am yours, Percival. I want them all to know,” Credence would whisper into his ear as they walked.


He was really quite possessive. Sticking himself to Graves’ side if any other Omega—or Alpha for that matter—dared look too long. He would even claim Graves’ mouth hungrily if ignored too long at events, running his delicate hands down Graves’ chest until the Alpha agreed to take his Omega home.


Not that Graves was complaining—he’s just as bad when other Alphas dared come too close to his darling (he’s been known to reassign Aurors to different cities if they looked at his Omega too frequently).


Not that Graves blamed them—Credence was quite a sight. He had grown out his hair so that it now fell in beautiful dark locks down to his shoulders. He had gained some weight, filling out his face beautifully and promoting a near-constant blush across his cheeks. His mouth was pinker and softer now, too. Utterly kissable, especially when he decided to pout.


But nothing compared to when he smiled. Much as he was doing right now.


“Percival!” Credence exclaimed on a sigh, hips not pausing in their movement over the furs, “You’re home.”


“And you’re having fun without me,” Graves chastens, without any fire behind it.


Credence just pouts, “No I’m not. Just getting ready for you. I haven’t come at all, I promise, Alpha,” the Omega says peeking up from beneath his lashes.


Credence is good at acting all soft and demure, but Graves knows when he’s being hustled. He sees nothing wrong with playing along, however.


“Is that so? You must be so very sensitive, from all that teasing,” Graves says, slowing prowling closer. “How long have you been toying with yourself?”


Credence’s eyes are hooding, he knows he’s about to get what he wants. “All morning, Alpha. I’ve been waiting for you. Need it so bad. I ache inside,” the boy says, soft and breathy.


Graves hums in consideration, finally sitting on the bed near Credence’s thrusting hips. He slowly teases a single finger up the underside of Credence’s hard cock.


Credence chokes on his next breath, hips bucking out of tempo, “Oh, Percival. Please.”


“Keep going,” Graves commands, and waits for his Omega to resume his thrusting before teasing another fingertip across his heated cock.


Credence whines, hips losing their rhythm again. “Please, please, please. I need it so bad, Alpha. I need you,” Credence tries again. Hoping to entice his Alpha to do more.


“Anything for such a beautiful plea,” Graves says.


The Alpha stands up long enough to shuck his clothing, letting them fall haphazardly on the floor. He’ll deal with it later.


Credence has stopped moving his hips, instead he stares hungrily as Graves reveals more and more skins, unashamedly licking his lips.


Once Graves is as naked as Credence, he settles himself at the headboard of their bed, making a come-hither motion to his trembling boy. In the next moment, he has a lapful of pliant Omega, happily nuzzling along his neck.


“Missed you,” Credence says.


“I know, I’m sorry,” Graves answers, scenting his boy’s hair. “Let me make it up to you, Credence.”


“You know what I like,” the Omega replies flippantly, soft lips curling into a smile against the Alpha’s throat.


“Is that a challenge?” Graves scoffs playfully. Two can play this game.


Credence hums—Graves takes it as a yes.


The next moment, Credence has been flipped, so that his back is against Graves’ chest, legs splayed wide, and brought wider still when Graves hooks his ankles with Credence’s, dragging them apart.


Credence squirms in his grip, but makes no move to evade him (not that Graves expects him to).


Graves takes a moment to just trace his hands across Credence’s sensitive chest, paying special attention to the boy’s puffy pink nipples. The Alpha delights in the little moans and hitched breaths. As much as he loves to fuck Credence into the mattress, he treasures these moments of tenderness. However, it’s not long before his Omega whines-out needily for more.


“Alpha, please…” he begs, turning his head to nuzzle Graves’ neck once more. “I need you so bad. I’ve been so good while you were busy…” his sweet boy continues.


“Yes, you have, dear boy,” Graves agrees. “You’ve been so good for me. Such a good Omega.”


Credence mewls in delight, squirming again in the Alpha’s lap. Or perhaps trying to entice a reaction, the little minx.


“Shhh, darling,” Graves reassures, “I’ll give you what you need. But before we start, do you remember your words?”  


The pair have been experimenting loads—which entails pushing the limits of what they like. Credence had developed quite the adoration for edging and teasing, so Graves had taught him the colour system to ensure they had good communication. At the beginning, Graves would do frequent colour-checks to see how Credence was feeling, but as of late the Alpha had a very good idea of how far Credence liked to go, and what was too much (Credence hadn’t called a “yellow” in ages). But, they could never be too cautious, and Graves had discovered he had limits as well—Credence had wanted to dabble in impact play, but had Graves quickly discovered that he couldn’t handle seeing his boy marked up beyond bite-marks and minor bruises. Credence’s back and palms still had lingering scars from his prior life, and Graves couldn’t stomach adding to them—no matter how temporarily.


“Yes, yes, I know them,” Credence says, presently. “Green for good, yellow for slow down or no more, and red for stop,” he recites petulantly.


Graves doesn’t call him out on his tone, as he might have on another day. Instead of replying, the Alpha skims his hands down Credence’s torso to tease at the boy’s hard cock.


He loves the way Credence turns to putty in his hands.


“Oh, Alpha—yes…” Credence moans, eagerly rolling his hips into Graves’ touch. Not that the Alpha allows the contact to get any harder. He keeps all his touches light and teasing—trailing the small length of the boy’s cock, drawing lazy circles around his balls, and venturing lower to circle his wet, gaping hole.


“Your drenched, sweetheart,” Graves says, “What am I ever going to do with such an insatiable little slut…” he muses, teasing a finger around the puffy rim and barely dipping it inside.


Credence jerks in his arms, thrusting his hips and trying to deepen the contact “Alpha! I need you… please, please, more…” his boy begs, voice breaking over a helpless moan.


“What more do you need, sweetheart?” the Alpha says, pushing the single digit inside, before pulling it out completely again to tease at his entrance again. “You already have my fingers…”


Oh, how Credence cries so prettily. Graves pushes a finger inside again, just to hear his Omega cry out.


“Alpha, please. Please, please, please,” Credence begs.


“What do you need?” Graves pushes, dragging his thumb down the boy’s cock, between his balls, and finally across his hole before plugging him gently with the digit.


Credence hiccups in his arms, breathless, “Your cock—need your cock, Alpha. Percival—please!”


“Since you asked so nicely…” the Alpha says, gently manoeuvering his boy until he’s on all fours, facing away from Graves, knees spread wide to show his gaping hole.


“You’re so pretty, baby,” Graves says, gently cupping his boy’s bottom in both hands, spreading his cheeks further apart, “So soft and pink and wet, baby. I think I need a taste.”


Graves dives between the Omega’s cheeks, lapping at his rim before pushing it inside, causing Credence to cry out and constrict on his tongue—trying to milk the contact.


Graves takes the time to clean his boy from all the slick the Omega had drooled down his own thighs and cock, thrusting his tongue in the boy’s hole periodically in between licks.


“Percy…” Credence whines, wiggling his hips in offering.


But Graves only squeezes the ample cheeks in warning, “Patience, baby. You made such a mess of yourself,” the Alpha chastens, taking a few last licks between the boy’s legs, before raising himself onto his knees.


“You make me more wet when you do that,” Credence argues, pouting again.


“Hmmm, well maybe this will help,” the Alpha says, gripping his cock and nestling the thick head right over the boy’s gaping entrance.


It thrills him to see how Credence arches his spine at the contact, shouting, “Oh, yes!”


But Graves isn’t done teasing just yet. He drags his engorged head along the Omega’s rim, teasing it with his cock much as he had with his fingers and tongue.


The way Credence moans in despair, breath hitching, is music to his ears.


“Isn’t this what you wanted, baby? You asked for my cock…” the man teases.


Credence’s arms had given out a long time ago, and the boy was now biting into the duvet cover to supress himself, “Want it inside, Alpha,” he says into the fabric.


“Is that so? How about this…” the man says, squeezing his boy’s ample cheeks together and thrusting between them lazily, the crown of his cock catching on the boy’s rim.


Credence just moans at the contact, begging between breaths “Alpha…please…”


“You’re so good, baby. So, so good for me,” the Alpha says, taking his cock in and slapping it over his Omega’s leaking hole, just to hear the boy’s breath hitch over and over again.


This time, when he pushes the boy’s cheeks together, he thrusts down, over his small balls and cock. Credence’s back arches, hands clawing at the sheets as he cries out, “Please! Alpha—oh…please!”


Graves loves this, when Credence is reduced to incoherence—only able to moan and cry as his Alpha plays with his body. Graves loves seeing the flush run all the way down to his boy’s pretty nipples, loves the way the boy can’t help but squirm in his grip, and loves to see his mouth hang open as if caught on an endless, soundless, cry.


There was no greater bliss than seeing his Omega completely taken apart—and knowing he was the only one who could put him back together.


“You’re so good, baby. I’ll give you what you need,” Graves coos, finally pushing his cockhead into Credence’s willing body.


Graves gives his boy a few seconds to adjust to the intrusion, before slowly but firmly pushing the rest of his cock inside. Credence’s hole quivers, and the boy hiccups as inch after inch is fed into him.


Only when Graves is seated completely inside, does he pause for a moment, hands caressing soothingly across his Omega’s flanks, as the boy cries into the duvet, desperately biting at the fabric.


It had taken them a long time to train the Credence’s body to take Graves in one shot. The boy insisted on wear plugs most days, and now his body took minimal coaxing.


The boy loved to be full.


“Ready, baby?” Graves asks, and Credence just moans and wiggles his hips. Too far gone to answer verbally.


The Alpha takes his cue, wrapping his hands on the boy’s slim waist and setting a gentle rhythm.


The boy rocks back onto him happily, and it doesn’t take long before Credence is on the edge, the tie around his cock the only thing keeping him from coming


“Alpha—Alpha, please. Need to come. Please let me come,” Credence begs, hands fisted in the sheets.


“You want to come, baby?”


“Yes, yes!”


Graves sneaks a hand down from the boy’s waist to hold his bound cock. “Need me to take this off?” the Alpha teases.


Credence’s hips lose their rhythm, trying to thrust back on his Alpha’s while also pushing further into his hand.


“Please, please, please. I was good. I was good for you,” Credence begs.


“Yes, you were, darling. You are so good,” Graves says, tugging the band off of Credence’s cock.


“Come for me, baby,” he orders, hand jerking his Omega’s cock.


Oh, how Credence squeezes around his Alpha’s cock as he comes is magical. Graves himself nearly comes right there, but his determination to fuck his boy through his climax keeps the need at bay.


Credence is clawing at the sheets, back arched as he releases into his Alpha’s hand. He collapses onto the bed, his only support being Graves’ hand on his waist and the man’s cock buried in his ass.


Graves pauses, with his cock deep in Credence, to allow the Omega a few seconds of reprieve, before slowly starting to thrust again.


Credence mewls out, but doesn’t call a colour.


Graves leans in close to his lover, draping himself across the boy’s back as he keeps up his slow, deep thrusts. He nuzzles the baby hairs at Credence’s nape, and whispers into the boy’s ear how good he feels, how soft he is, how much Graves loves him.


Credence is hard again in no time at all, rolling his hips back into Graves and panting in the sheets.


“Love you, Alpha. Love you so much,” the Omega says, breath hitching with every deep thrust that brushes his oversensitive prostate. Graves pistons his hips more steadily, nailing the little bundle of nerves until he has Credence crying again.


“Oh! Oh! Oh!” the Omega gasps, and Graves growls in response, a steady stream of mine, mate, breed, circling in his head, as his knot starts to swell and catches on the boy’s rim.


As if reading his mind, Credence starts moaning again, “Fuck me full, Percival. Give it to me. Need you to breed me!”


His boy was filthy, and he loved it.


Graves kisses the back of his Omega’s neck, licking over salty skin, before gently biting down, causing the Omega to come for the second time. A few more thrusts and Graves is coming too, releasing deep inside his boy, knot swelling and locking them together.


Graves keeps grinding his hips, drawing out both of their orgasms until they are shaking with the aftermath.


They must both have passed out after that, because when Graves wakes next, Credence is snoring adorably, and his knot had gone down enough that it can be pulled out.


However, when he tries to extract himself, one of Credence’s hands catches his arm, “Stay inside,” the Omega says, voice heavy with sleep.


“You need rest, baby,” Graves says.


The Omega burrows deeper into the covers, “’m resting, you can stay inside for a little longer,” the boy argues.


And, really, who is Graves to argue with that kind of logic? He slips his cock back inside Credence’s loose hole, and drapes his body over the Omega’s, tangling their legs together and locking their fingers. Credence sighs in contentment, and falls back asleep within the same breath.


Graves follows a moment later.