#alpha!newt

aw thank you darling!!! thank you - stolen from my sad playlist of course

"i fucking hate when they get incompetent." with a slam of the cabinet, clint turns around, bracing his weight on the hand-made cot in the room. "they have one job. one!"

"they actually have a lot of jobs..." jeff trails off, worried to upset to keeper.

"oh it's alright." you shiver in your spot, smoothing your hands up and down your biceps. "i'll survive."

"it's not alright! we cannot fucking procreate!" clint slams his palm into the cushion. "i refuse to bring children into this fucking hellhole. have you even experienced this before?? do you have any idea what you're supposed to do??" the beta further inquires.

"uh.. no. not really. i've always had my suppressants." you pull your shoulders up in a shrug. "it's not that bad right now, i'll just try and sleep it off."

"do you have any idea how bad it's going to get?? love, you're going to be in serious pain unless you're fucking knotted or something." clint sighs, burying his head in his open palms.

"well, we'll see. can't be too bad."

oh it was bad. seriously fucking horrible, and you had no anticipation of such. a few hours later and you're writhing in your shared room, arms curled around your torso in a slipshod attempt to dull the stabbing pain that irks at your torso.

nesting hasn't helped, the mess of various items of clothing from your alphas provides zero cushion or solace, and you can't help the frustrated tears that tug at your waterline.

newt's been in meetings all day, and tommy's still in the maze, but you're worried if the two of them don't finish up soon, you'll perish in your spot.

but then there's a hurried knock at your door, one that has your eardrums echoing and throbbing in disdain.

the words that roll of your tongue are most definitely indistinguishable, and you wave haphazardly in the direction of it.

thankfully, the door swings open regardless, to your many thanks, and it's just newt.

"baby? darling? my love? you alright?" the door slams behind him.

"ow." is your gruntled response, in addition to rolling over onto your back and parting your perspiring thighs.

"easy, easy. i've got you. i've got you. could smell you across the fuckin' glade, darling." he idles in between your thighs, pressing soft kisses along your mark.

in comes thomas just a few beats later, chest heaving before the door closes behind him. "fuck. fuck. you okay?" he leans over, bracing his weight on his knees.

newt has finally kicks off his slacks, letting them pool at the base of your bed. "she's not okay. she's not okay at all."

"please, just help. help me please." you warble

"i've got you. we've got you." newt sighs, pressing his cock nearly immediately inside you, filling you up in one fell thrust. you're dripping onto the mattress; a mixture of both your sweat and slick.

"oh shuck, mate, you should feel-"

"just fucking go!" you thwack at his shoulder.

"watch it." the alpha sneers, suddenly gripping at your jaw. "behave or you'll get nothing. at all."

he snaps his hips against your own, setting a steady rhythm and quelling your quiet cries.

"oh be nice, darling. she's in pain." thomas guffaws, shrugging off his pack and shirt.

Graves lets himself be small, but not for himself. He has spent many years not needing to be small. Small is what makes him Omega. Small is what gets him looked down upon, gets his ability questions, gets him pigeon holed by the expectations of small-minded people. He has not been small in decades. 

He lets himself be small for him. For his Alpha, who he thought he’d never have. For years it seemed infeasible. Not only unlikely, but nothing he ever desired. The idea only set his nostrils flaring, once upon a time. Heels dug in the ground any time Theseus or Picquery mentioned it.

“I know you don’t need an Alpha, Percival. I know that better than most,” Theseus said lightly over coffee, his socked feet in Graves’ lap as nonchalantly as though he were a brother. “I’m just saying, my baby brother isn’t your typical bloke.”

“I’m sure he’s lovely, Theseus. But I have no interest in a partner of any sort.”

““Perce–”

“How would he possibly handle it? My title… it puts any Alpha against their instincts. He can’t protect me, nor would I want him to. Could he handle that? Would you feel right introducing your brother to a mate who’d drive him nuts with worry?”

Theseus pursed his lips, not willing to admit to defeat but unable to argue either – full-well knowing it was the very reason they never worked either.

Percival tipped his coffee to him wryly and smiled blankly.

It’s a keen memory, as though moments ago and not years now. Graves feels the time that’s passed in his bones. They make him heavy, weary in his bed. But he is not small from the years.

He is small for him, for Newt. For his Alpha who spoons him from behind in their modest bed. Long arms looped around the weary set of his limbs. He is small because this is the only time Newt can pretend that he can protect his Omega. Times like now, after the danger has passed but left it’s mark. The red head’s fingers linger over the uneven stitches of the wound in Graves’ side; a wound so serious magic had only been able to mend him back together so much. 

He cannot move without the feeling of tugging, the straining of skin. And it aches, but he has dealt with such pains before. Graves is no stranger to injury.

He is, however, a stranger to the look his Alpha had given him when finally he woke in the hospital. Lids red-rimmed and puffy, freckles lost beneath the upset of his flush. Lips and cheeks wet from crying.

“Percy,” Newt had gasped the moment he had woken, head lunging forward to bury in the crook of his neck – to inhale the living scent of him – to ground himself in the certainty that Graves would live, all but in the bed with him. “Thank the stars!”

That had been it. No guilt. No judgement for his job. No decree that he was unfit for his duty or that this was because of his nature. Nothing but grateful kisses and wet sniffing and a callused thumb rubbing nonstop against the back of his hand.

He was unused to this; for being loved as Percival Graves with no consideration of his natural orientation. For being worried for because he was a partner rather than an Omega. 

He was unused to being small, cradling in arms grateful to hold him. But he didn’t mind being small for Newt; a realization that shocked him. 

Newt who accepted easily that not only could he not protect Graves but that Graves could protect himself. Who accepted that to a degree, Graves’ life was not his own. Who did not ever say and gender-related slang to his partner, who never took advantage of his heats, who asked nonstop about his comfort and his consent. 

If this – this small weakness – helped such an upright man continue to fight his instincts for him, then Graves was happy to do it. 

“Thank you,” Newt whimpered into his neck, nose pressed into the gland he found there. 

When newt is nervous he tends to fidget. Right now he fidgets, thumbing at the button on the cuff of his sleeve or fiddling with the flap of his coat pocket. He longs for his case, the familiarity of its weight missing from his hand. So he fidgets to distract himself from that empty feeling, for his case being out of his line of sight makes him nervous.

Behind him, a large sphere of water is spelled to float after him, inside four agitated selkies hiss and chatter at him. They swim with tense, darting movements around the confined space. They have calmed considerably after Newt fed them some fish chunks soaked in a calming draught. 

In front of him is the desk of Percival Graves, Director of Magical Security and currently Newt’s boss. The Department for the Care and Conservation of Magical Creatures is still very new and thought Newt technically is the head of the department, the magizoologist has never run a department in his entire life so for now he would be under guidance of the Director until he was fit to take over himself. Said Director currently didn't look very happy with him, gaze boring into Newt as the silence stretches between them.

The reason for this impromptu meeting was probably being  two feet of water Newt is currently standing in, same at the rest of the department. Luckily they were able to stop it from spreading even further.

"fuck, they didn't think t'give you suppressants? i mean shuck, you're in a fuckin' glade nearly chock full of alphas, 'n i can't always be there to-"

"alpha please, just want it." you're struggling, head lolling back as your hips roll over the calloused palm against your cunt.

being the first and only omega in the glade and the trio being so protective of you 😵‍💫 like the other alphas are bold and they always keep you safe

"cover your neck, atta girl." minho hums, tugging on your hair a bit so that it obscures your exposed scent gland.

"i don't understand why one of you can't just scent me." you mewl, squirming in your spot as minho's calloused forefinger brushes delicately over the sensitive flesh.

"because you'll learn t'crave it, poppet." newt purls from behind you, reaching down to massage at your shoulders. "and when we're busy, we can't always comply. we're worried it'll make things worse f'you."

"can't we just try?" you turn out with pleading optics, pouting to the best of your ability.

every limb is trembling as you grasp at thomas' broad shoulders, dancing over the sculpted planes as you attempt to find an anchor. "t-too much. too much."

"i know, i know, pet." newt coos from behind you, trying his best not to move as he smears kisses over your bare shoulder. "but we gotta let them deflate, sweetheart."

"hurts." you mewl, clenching around both their knots until thomas is hissing in overstimulation.

going into heat suddenly when thomas (your boyfriend) is in the maze and newt has to try to keep you calm until he gets back

OOH I LOVE THIS

"it hurts!" your bottom lip is spilling out in an illustration of desperation.

"i know, i know, love. i'm sorry. don't they give you pills for this shit?" newt murmurs under his breath, trying to maneuver you in your spot on the grass so that your heel is pressing into your throbbing mound.

he figures that such a position will momentarily satiate the pain while he gets his work done, but your squirming is making such an endeavor tedious.

"no!"

"okay, okay, quite y'whining. he'll be back soon. probably smells it all the way out there too." he figures, for the alpha's temples are throbbing with the urge to help you in his own way, but he knows his boundaries.