rusty_kink | Prompt Post: The Magnus Archives #1

Prompt Post: The Magnus Archives #1

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Martin is. Surprisingly kinky, and pretty damn submissive at that. Jon isn't so much, due to his general sex-neutrality, but he's nothing if not supportive, and he's willing to try domming Martin a bit, as a treat.

Long story short, he sucks at it. He's so anxious about hurting Martin that he's stopping the scene every few minutes to check in, and Martin (who just wants to get absolutely wrecked) is simultaneously frustrated and completely endeared every time Jon says "are you okay with this ily so much you don't have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable you're in control here."

I'm imagining this played mostly for comedy and not so much for sexy, but I think a good balance could also be struck!

+Trans characters (I hc Jon as amab nonbinary and Martin as a trans man but hey do what you want)
+Martin, though submissive, is also a top, cause we need more submissive tops we're a dying breed
++Kink negotiation, esp with Jon, as the (prospective) dom setting boundaries in what he's comfortable doing to Martin
++++things are just awkward and maybe a bit giggly and they're both a little out of their depth cause that shit's cute as hell

DNW: dub/noncon(cnc is okay but also if it's their first time doing kink I question the wisdom of starting with a cnc scene ahsjjssjdj), either of them suddenly becoming sex gods or whatever

CW for consent violation, relationship issues.

Jon compels Martin to disclose his sexual fantasies, but it’s the wretched version that doesn’t end in porn! Would greatly prefer this to be accidental in the sense that Jon did not expect this to be what his question drew out of Martin. It’s up to you whether he’s compelling him on purpose, though.

Martin has always kept mum about his sexuality, since he thinks Jon would find it... unpleasant. He is correct: Jon does.

Of course, Jon gets that Beholding buzz, but he’s horrified and repulsed by getting a look at this side of Martin. Martin is humiliated, violated, and even more guilty than he already was for his powerful attraction to Jon. Jon feels terrible for having done this to Martin, but also feels violated, because he didn’t want to know any of this.

DNW: a happy ending. I don’t want them to be able to fix the damage this does, although maybe they pretend they’ve fixed it.

Doesn’t really matter what Martin’s fantasies are; vanilla, kinky, whatever. The point is that he can’t stop spilling them as Jon reacts with more and more disgust.

++++ if their previous conversations about sex have been wholesome, sweet, and fundamentally dishonest on both sides

Losing my mind at the image of Jared being like "nooo you can't enjoy this I'm meant to be harvesting fear of the body" meanwhile Jon's checking himself out in a mirror like "hehe curves go brr"

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31079060

sdfghjk THANK YOU FOR THIS CONTRIBUTION I LOVE IT.....

When it comes to Martin's sexuality, Jon is a bit of a dog in the manger. Jon doesn't want to have sex with Martin, but he doesn't want Martin having sex with other people, either. Or getting off without Jon's say-so.

Good thing Martin is actually kind of into that.

Danny is obsessed with his big sister Tim, who mostly dates women. One day he pins her down and makes her take his cock and like it.

FYI, here's the AO3 link:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/31085993?view_adult=true

oh I love this idea

I'm starting something for this prompt cause I LOVE transfem Jon but I write slowly so no promises when it'll be available!!

An awful lot of Jon's problems- and by extension everyone else's- seem to start with him talking. Maybe there's a way to fix that, and repay his assistants for all they have to put up with. Or at least, the assistants think so. And hey, bonus! If Jon's mouth is busy, he can't read statements, so he won't get more monstery! Elias doesn't intervene bc what better way to detach poor Jon from all his human connections?

+impromptu bondage- if you're gonna take your belt off anyway, might as well make sure Jon's hands aren't going anywhere
++they lean into the "anti-monster measure" thing and blindfold him, too
+++It becomes daily practice in the archives, to the point where Jon fought like wild at first, but eventually becomes resigned
+++Using Jon's throat instead of getting up to piss becomes general practice, too
+++++S4 Lonely!Martin angst- what's more lonely than having your crush right there, but he can't see or interact with you, and doesn't know you from any other dick down his throat

DNW: scat, anyone rescuing Jon from the situation

I just think that Jon should get to sit on Sasha’s dick

Extra points for Dom!Sasha and Sub!Jon vibes

DNW: nothing

op you're so right

The first few days after Jon and Martin had found the tunnels and followed them to where their future selves had hidden themselves away from the ever-present gaze of Elias Bouchard were something of a relief to Jon. He’d been struggling, out of his depth and certain that everyone knew it. His future self had been rather callous about it, rolling his eyes and assuring Jon that there were worse things than being promoted past one’s capability, but the Martin from the future had been much kinder and assured him that Elias had done it on purpose. That Elias had chosen all of them because of their connections or potential connections to the fears.

Which had sparked several conversations about the true nature of The Magnus Institute and Jon’s role as Head Archivist. It was… gratifying, in a way, knowing that Jon had been targeted by a true eldritch power as a child, rather than having stress-induced delusions after watching another child’s abduction. It was also gratifying to know that he was being actively courted by another power, almost flattering. His future self immediately shut that down, and informed him that he’d been chosen for the same reasons he’d been so unlovable – his persistent curiosity, his self-centeredness, his inability to assess risk, and how little he trusted those around him. It had hurt, and Martin had criticized Jon’s future self for being so cruel.

That had been interesting. Jon hadn’t known Martin even possessed a spine, but he managed to get his hackles up in Jon’s defence.

The future Martin had placed a hand on the future Jon’s and smoothed everything over, and that image ingrained itself into Jon’s mind.

There were other touches. A hand on a shoulder, an arm wrapped around a waist, hair ruffles, hugs, the occasional kisses on a cheek or lightly lip-to-lip. Gestures of gentle affection. Jon catalogued them and tried not to think about the last time he’d touched or been touched by someone with that degree of care. Occasionally, when their future selves showed affection, Martin would sigh wistfully, and Jon would be forced to glare at him. They weren’t… It wouldn’t be inappropriate.

Still, it was a relief knowing that Jon’s job was a cover and not actually that important. It should have made things easier, but he still had to put on an act for Sasha and Tim (and Elias, of course). His future self had been adamant that no one other than the four of them could know about them. Hiding such a huge secret from Tim and Sasha was taking its toll on Jon and, once the initial relief wore off, he found himself more wound-up than ever. It didn’t help when every spider or insect now looked like an active threat, and Artefact Storage was a constant looming presence that Jon had no control over.

He’d intended to demand answers when he returned to the tunnels alone. He’d intended to either get a reason as to why Tim and Sasha couldn’t know, or their blessing to tell them. He’d come prepared for an argument or even a fight.

He hadn’t come prepared to watch the Martin from the future, naked from the waist down, slamming the Jon from the future into a wall, Jon’s legs wrapped tightly around Martin’s hips as Martin thrust into him. The guttural groans and demands for more, harder in Jon’s voice, thick with lust and desire, shot through Jon’s body and he stopped and just stared.

He was transfixed by the jiggle of Martin’s buttocks as he fucked Jon into the wall. Jon’s eyes were shut tight, but his mouth was lax, open and gasping for air save for the moments he was urging Martin on. One of his hands was buried in Martin’s hair, the other clutching tightly to Martin’s shirt, and Martin’s face was pressed against Jon’s neck, barely muffling his own animalistic grunts.

It was vulgar. Jon clenched his hands into fists at his side to stop them from moving towards his cock.

“You close?” Martin asked, and Jon’s mouth dried up at the sound of that sweet voice sounding so rough and ragged.

“Yes,” Jon’s future (fortunate) self answered, desperate. “Yes, Martin, so close, please, just…”

Jon had been present for every orgasm he’d had up until now. He’d never sounded like that, like his pleasure was being torn from him, some kind of powerful release. Martin thrust a few more times and stilled with a groan of his own, before sliding them both down the wall, until Jon was seated in his lap.

They kissed. It was nothing like the affectionate pecks they’d shared in front of Jon and Martin. It was messy and desperate and Jon physically leaned forwards to get closer to it. Jon’s future self shifted and they both moaned as Martin’s cock slid free, then just leaned their heads together and breathed for a moment. Jon didn’t dare blink for fear that they’d turn and see him.

“Should have gotten your shirt off,” Future-Jon said finally. “It’s a mess, and laundry isn’t exactly straightforward down here.”

Martin laughed. “It’s not my fault you wouldn’t stop kissing me long enough for me to pull it over my head.”

“Mmm. No, you’re the one who wound me up,” Jon countered and they laughed together before sharing another kiss, this one calmer but still passionate. “God, I needed that.”

“Me too. I love you.”

“Love you too.” Jon watched as his future self stood up and made a face at the mess that dripped down his legs. “Give me your shirt. It’s filthy already.”

Martin chuckled and shrugged his shirt off. “No. Hold still.” He knelt at Jon’s feet and wiped between Jon’s legs while kissing and nipping at his stomach. Jon’s hand threaded through Martin’s hair and he looked down with a tender expression that the Jon who wasn’t being treated to aftercare wasn’t even aware he could make. He took the opportunity to quietly slink back through the tunnels and quickly bring himself off in a corner before returning to The Archives. When Martin asked what was wrong, he snapped at him and locked himself in his office.

He went over the timeline. Jon and Martin had, apparently, started their relationship in early November, ended the world about six weeks later, and then spent an indeterminate amount of time in the apocalypse trying to fix things. Jon focused on the ‘indeterminate amount of time’ and just… thought about it. There were hints, from Martin, mostly, that they’d spent a lot of time hiding together, unable to trust what was real outside of each other. Jon had apparently switched between despair and desperation, alternatively hiding from and feeding off of the world’s terrors. And Martin had just tried to take care of him.

What had that looked like? Jon wondered. Had Martin made him tea? No, they couldn’t trust the tea. Had he sat beside Jon and talked to him? Had they held hands? Had he embraced him and promised him that they would do everything they could to make this right?

Or had he kissed Jon. Had he gently removed his clothes and wrapped his hand around Jon’s cock and told him not to think for a while. Had he used his mouth and encouraged Jon to grab his hair. Had he carefully opened Jon up and pressed inside him and moved within him, matching his pace to the thunderous beating of their hearts.

How long? How long had Martin had to study Jon, to learn exactly what he wanted, exactly how to drive him crazy, and how to calm him down. How many days, weeks, months had Martin’s only purpose been to fuck Jon out of his own mind, to allow him to rest and heal and move on. How good had Martin become at taking Jon apart?

Jon startled at the knock on his door, and tried to pull himself together before it opened and Martin poked his head in. “Hey, sorry for bothering you. Again. But I, uh, I’m making a quick run to the mart and wondered if you wanted anything? We’re running low on milk.”

It was hard not to imagine those hands on his body after just seeing them confidently touching every part of him. Jon tried not to stare. “Ah, no. Thank you, Martin.”

“Right.” Martin hesitated. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Fine, just… tense.”

Martin nodded, looking sympathetic. “I’m also grabbing a few more clothing items for them. Apparently five shirts isn’t enough.”

Well, not if they kept fucking half-dressed. Jon sternly told himself not to blush. “Yes, alright.” A thought occurred to him. “I can bring the shirts to them when you get back. That way it won’t look suspicious when you take half the day off.”

“I’m not–”

“I know. But there are appearances to maintain.”

Martin sighed. “Yes, I know. I’ll hand them off to you when I get back, okay?”

Jon nodded and turned back to his work, his mind already wandering back to the other Martin and imagining how those hands would feel on his skin.

Of course, Martin hadn’t just bought shirts. Jon lugged two bags full of shirts and socks and underwear, as well as teabags, biscuits, crisps, and two novelty mugs that said ‘his’ and ‘his’, but in different colours, down through the tunnels. They were both fully dressed when Jon arrived, of course, but Jon imagined he could still faintly smell the scent of sex.

Martin immediately took the bags from Jon with a smile. “Thank you.”

“That’s more than just shirts,” Future-Jon commented, rifling through one of the bags until he saw the mugs. He took them out with a fond smile. “Martin must have gone shopping, then.”

“He sends his regards,” Jon said stiffly, hating the vaguely patronizing smile his future self shot him at that. “Can I speak with Martin alone, please?”

The look they exchanged wasn’t worried, but it did communicate something Jon couldn’t read, even in his own face. He hated it. “Certainly,” his future self said. “Come get me when you need me.”

Martin set the bags aside. “What is it, Jon?”

“I, uh. I know that you… you’re together. You and my future self.” Martin nodded. Jon swallowed hard and continued. “And I, I know this isn’t a normal situation by any means, but we’re all trying to navigate it as best we can. I respect that you both have your plans and goals, and I’m happy to facilitate them, as the alternative seems to be the end of the world but… Well, all that to say… I’ve been thinking about you, and you two, together, and I… I was wondering if you’d consider having sex with me.”

Martin stared at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“I want you to fuck me. I’m basically him, and you know him so well and what he likes and how he feels, and I… I want that.”

“From me?” Martin said. “I mean… yeah, you have a point, but you’re not him. You haven’t gone through what he has, and that’s good! But it means you’re different and I can’t… God, I was so into you at your age, and I’d’ve jumped at the opportunity, but… I love him. Like, fated destiny true love-love him. I can’t cheat on him, not even with himself. Sort of.”

Jon felt himself deflating. Naturally. That kind of intimacy was earned, and Martin was nothing if not loyal. “Of course. I understand.”

“That’s not to say…” Martin sighed. “Listen. I’m not sure if either of them will agree to this, but if my Jon and your Martin are okay with it, I can… guide your Martin into fucking you the way I fuck my Jon.”

Jon didn’t want the clumsy, gentle Martin of his time. He wanted the confident, self-assured Martin of the future. He supposed he understood what Martin had meant by them being different. “Would he even be able to?”

Martin snorted. “He’s actually really good at taking instructions. And fucking you would be quite the incentive. If he thought you were into it, he’d agree.”

“I’m not actually sure…”

“Jon. You wanted this badly enough to come down here and ask for it. You’re telling me you don’t even want to try?”

“I… alright. If your Jon is agreeable, I’ll bring Martin down after work and we’ll go over it.”

Jon was agreeable, but refused to be present. “I’m embarrassed enough just thinking about it,” he said, with no actual trace of embarrassment on his face or in his voice. “I’ll set up the bed if you’re planning on trying tonight.”

“Tonight?” Jon demanded, but everyone ignored him. This was moving faster than he’d anticipated. When he brought Martin down that evening, he was a mess of nerves. He hadn’t quite managed to explain to Martin why they were meeting, just that it wasn’t apocalypse-related this time. Martin seemed to think it was related to his frivolous shopping. Jon let him believe whatever he wanted.

There was tea. The future Jon-and-Martin pair were drinking from their new cups, while Martin and Jon were served in the old ones. “We did want to thank you for your thoughtfulness, Martin,” Future-Jon said, smiling gently when Martin beamed at him. “But we had something more important to discuss as well.”

“Alright,” Martin said guilelessly. “What is it?”

Future-Martin was considerate enough to wait until he’d put his cup down. “We were wondering if you’d be interested in fucking your Jon Sims under my direction.”

Martin blinked at him. “What?”

Jon sighed. “This Martin has been with this Jon for… a while. And it occurred to me that he would know how to… best please me? So I asked and he declined. But he did bring up the option of you under his instruction, which seemed like a reasonable compromise.”

“Oh, for…” Future-Jon sounded exasperated. “Say no, Martin. He doesn’t deserve you.” His Martin placed a gentle hand on the back of his. “What? I’d turn anyone down who presented it like that.”

“You’d basically turn anyone down for any reason, love,” Martin reminded him before turning back to his present self. “It’s a bit inelegantly phrased, but that’s essentially the idea. It would be you and him, while I watched and told you how to best please him.”

Martin looked between the other Martin and both Jons. “What?”

Future-Martin sighed. “Could you two give us a minute?” He shooed them out of the room and sat next to Martin, speaking in a lowered tone while Martin sat, shell-shocked.

“You’re an idiot,” Future-Jon snapped. “This was the perfect opportunity for you to get everything you ever wanted, and you’re blowing it by pretending it doesn’t matter.”

“It’s just sex! I get that your Martin doesn’t want to betray you, but it’s not like I’m asking for a commitment. Just something physical to take me out of my mind for a bit.”

“Martin is in love with you. Yes, just a little at this point, nothing like what we’ve managed to grow, but he has actual feelings for you. And you’re being an idiot about them.”

“He can say no.”

“If he’s smart, he will,” Future-Jon said morosely. “But I bet he won’t. I bet he does everything he can to please you, and you just take it as your due, you ungrateful little–”

“We’re done!” one of the Martins called out. Jon wasn’t sure which. When they returned, both Martins looked calm.

“I’ve agreed,” Jon’s Martin said. “If that’s okay.”

“That’s… that’s great,” Jon said, awkwardly trying to be less ungrateful. “Thank you.” Martin blushed.

“There are some rules,” Future-Martin said. “The first is that anyone can stop at anytime, no reasons or justifications needed.” Everyone nodded. “The second is that any changes – toys or tools or other people – have to be discussed beforehand. No surprises.” Jon and Martin exchanged baffled looks, then nodded again, ignoring the implication that this might happen more than once. “The final rule is that nothing changes. You still have to maintain your cover.” Jon nodded immediately, confident that this wouldn’t change anything. Martin nodded more slowly and reluctantly. “Alright. If that’s everything, should we retire to the bedroom?”

“Already?” Jon asked, but they were already standing.

Future-Jon winked at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean up here. Have fun.”

Yup. This was moving much too fast.

The ‘bedroom’ was a room with a large mattress that sat on the floor and boxes that held Jon and Martin’s clothes. Just like the ‘kitchen’ was a room with a table and chairs, an electric kettle, and a microwave. Jon couldn’t imagine living here, and yet, here he lived, happily enough, because he had Martin.

“Alright,” Future-Martin said, clapping his hands together. “Strip!”

Jon and Martin looked at each other, reading mirrored anxiety in each other’s body language. “Maybe we should just…” Martin started to suggest, before Future-Martin poked him in the side and he made a completely different, much more interesting, sound. Jon hadn’t known Martin was ticklish.

“I’m not touching Jon,” Future-Martin said. “But I’ll touch you as much as you need. Now stop messing around, both of you.”

“Fine,” Jon said, undeniably pleased when both Martins turned towards him. He shrugged out of his shirt and kicked his shoes off. He wondered if Martin liked his body more with or without the scars.

“You really are unfairly pretty,” Martin murmured as Jon stepped out of his trousers. Jon opened his mouth to make some kind of retort, but his Martin beat him to it.

“Isn’t he?” Martin sounded wistful, almost sad. Jon looked over at him and breathed a little easier. Martin’s oversized jumpers hid a body that looked soft and warm and comfortable. Jon wasn’t sure he’d call it ‘attractive’, but it certainly was as pleasant and non-threatening as a naked body could be. Jon stepped towards him and Martin flinched.

“Anyone can stop at anytime,” Future-Martin reminded them gently. Jon’s Martin nodded and drew his shoulders back and moved towards Jon. They stood awkwardly, facing each other, completely unsure. “Why don’t you start with a kiss?”

“I, um,” Jon’s Martin said, and cupped Jon’s face gently with one large, warm hand. “Is this okay?”

“This was the plan,” Jon said, feeling more and more out of his depth as Martin nodded determinedly and leaned in, closing his eyes as his lips connected with Jon’s. It was more a question than a kiss, and Jon hesitated before answering with an equally tentative affirmative pressure and warmth. Martin’s lips curled in a small smile as he pulled away and Jon, for the first time, felt like this might actually work out.

“He likes teeth,” Future-Martin said. “Just a nibble at first. Bite his lip.”

Jon’s mouth opened to protest that he didn’t like teeth, exactly, but Martin was apparently as biddable as his future self had assumed and was already capturing Jon’s lips in a kiss that ended with his lower lip gently sucked into Martin’s mouth and the brief pressure of teeth as Martin pulled away. And. Alright. Yes, that had been quite nice. Jon wasn’t even embarrassed at the soft noise of protest that had escaped him as Martin pulled back.

“On the bed, you two. Keep kissing.”

Martin was… surprisingly good at this. Jon hadn’t thought much about him, but he had lovely soft lips and a clever tongue and, yes, he wasn’t afraid to use his teeth to nip and tug at Jon’s lips. The light sting when Martin just barely caught the tip of Jon’s tongue shot down Jon’s spine and he moaned and pressed closer to Martin as they lay on their sides on the mattress.

“That… that’s quite nice,” Martin said. “You’re both doing great. Now, Jon, get on your back and Martin, get between his legs.”

Jon made a soft protesting noise as Martin stopped kissing him, and a louder one as Martin pressed him onto his back and moved away, settling between his legs as ordered. Jon propped himself up on his elbows and focused on catching his breath so he could tell Martin to slow down.

Martin beat him. “What now?”

“Hmm. He looks a little skittish, doesn’t he? Kiss the inside of his leg and run your hands up and down his thighs. Calm him down.”

Jon wanted to snap that he didn’t need to be calmed like some unruly child. Then Martin’s soft lips were pressed against the skin just above his knee and his hands soothed over Jon’s legs and Jon could feel himself unwinding with every pass. He let his legs fall open, inviting Martin’s mouth to explore him further.

“Good. That’s right, keep going.”

Martin’s mouth moved up Jon’s legs, alternating sides and moving closer to his groin. Jon felt himself stir at the thought and clenched his fists at his side. He wasn’t going to embarrass himself by grabbing Martin’s head and pressing it to his cock. He had more control than that.

“Sorry.” Martin’s wonderful mouth left Jon’s skin as he raised his head. “I trust you, I do, but… Jon, are you even enjoying this?”

“Yes, Jon,” the other Martin said, sounding amused. “Are you even enjoying this?”

Jon hated them both. “Yes, it’s… perfectly serviceable.” Shit, no. That was exactly what his future self had warned him not to do. “I am quite enjoying… Martin, you have a fabulous mouth.” Was that too much? It felt like it had been too much. Jon should probably shut up now.

It was almost worth the humiliation when Martin’s face lit up like he’d just won a prize and Jon felt his stomach give a little, obnoxiously fond, lurch. “Yeah?” Martin said, beaming. “I’d be happy to–” He was cut off by his future self’s hand landing on his shoulder.

“I’ll let you know what to do next.” Martin nodded, sat back, and waited attentively for further instructions. And waited. And… waited.

Jon felt himself tense up again. It was a weirdly pleasant combination of anticipation and apprehension, but he didn’t trust it. “…are you going to do anything?”

“It’s just… it’s a bit awkward, you see. You’re so pretty, isn’t he?” Martin nodded at his future self’s question and got a hair pat as a reward. “I’ve set up the boundary of not touching you, but I didn’t anticipate how looking at you would make me feel. I’m enjoying this rather more than I anticipated, and wondering about the morality of that.”

“You’re kidding,” Jon said.

Future-Martin grinned. “Yeah, pretty much. Mostly I’m just stalling to watch you squirm.” He used the hand in Martin’s hair to tip him forward. Martin barely caught himself before squishing Jon, his eyes as wide as Jon’s felt. Martin let out a surprised noise as Jon felt his pelvis grind down against Jon’s, and Jon could just make out a knee pressing Martin down on top of him. It was overwhelming after being teased and ignored for so long, the sweet friction and Martin’s wet parted lips panting above him…

“Kiss him.”

“Wait a second, just–” Martin’s mouth came down on Jon’s, stealing his words away with a kiss that almost matched the filthy movements of his hips. Jon clutched Martin closer and moaned into his mouth, losing himself in the heat and pressure and mindless pleasure of it all. He could faintly hear the sound of a voice murmuring something insistent and low, but it wasn’t clear enough to make out the words and surely it didn’t matter compared to everything Martin was giving to him. The kiss shifted as Martin moved his weight to his left side, his right hand sliding over Jon’s hip, between his legs and then…

The muffled noise Jon made sounded like a wounded prey animal as Martin’s broad finger breached him unexpectedly. Martin immediately pulled back from the kiss, but continued pressing forward with his finger.

“You can take a finger dry,” Future-Martin said, sounding amused. “You did ask me to use my knowledge of you to please you, remember?”

Jon didn’t have words. He’d never tried this – never bothered, honestly. Wouldn’t have even thought about it. But the burn of the stretch and the clamping down of his muscles made Martin’s finger seem huge and far more satisfying than it had any right to feel. He could imagine that finger bringing him to orgasm by itself, and felt his body respond accordingly.

“There we go.” The smug satisfaction was aggravating, and Jon tried to glare, but the sight of lube and a condom being passed from one Martin to the other distracted him. “Open him up properly. Don’t touch his prick, though. Not yet.”

The whine of protest that escaped from Jon’s throat turned into a moan as Martin pressed two slicked fingers inside him. This was reassuring, familiar. This didn’t confuse and unnerve him.

“Enough.” Jon didn’t quite parse the meaning until he felt the fingers pause. “He’s ready. Go ahead.”

“Already?” Martin’s voice was hesitant, but with an underlying eagerness that shot though Jon. “You’re sure?”

“Trust me. Go on.”

The pause between the fingers sliding out of him and a cock pressing against him was far too short for Jon to complain. He felt Martin’s hand grip his thigh while the other guided him into Jon, slowly pressing in.

“Faster. He can take it. He likes it a little rough.”

Jon arched as Martin obediently thrust forward, sheathing himself in a single motion. “Martin.”

“See? He loves it. Fuck him.”

Martin gripped his other leg and started moving. It was too soon, far too soon, but it felt amazing. Overwhelming. Jon reached down to touch himself, and Martin’s thrusts stuttered as he released Jon’s leg to bat his hand away. The sound of Martin’s fond laughter while Martin resumed fucking him with far too much vigour to be able to laugh like that was unsettling. Jon reached for his cock again and Martin grabbed his hand and pinned it to the mattress by his head, falling forward even as he continued to thrust.

“That’s good. Spread him open, just like that.” Jon felt his thighs burn as Martin’s wider hips forced him to make room. “Bite his shoulder, he–” There were more words after that, but Jon couldn’t hear them as Martin leaned forward and clamped his teeth around what little flesh Jon had over his collar bone and sucked. It felt so good, and the new angle made Martin’s stomach rub over Jon’s cock with every pass, allowing Jon to stimulate himself by arching into Martin’s thrusts. He was so close, so very close…

Martin’s hand wrapped around his cock and didn’t move. All the lovely stimulation was replaced by a steady pressure that felt wonderful in its own way, but didn’t bring him anywhere closer to completion. “Martin,” Jon gasped. “Please…”

“Not yet, sweetheart,” Martin said, his voice coming from the wrong side, making Jon disoriented in his desperation. “Not until we’re finished with you.”

“He…” Martin’s voice cut off in a gasp, then resumed, this time coming from where Jon would have expected it. “He’s so tight.”

The soft hum from the side made Jon’s head spin. He felt surrounded, as though he was trapped in a fun house filled with mirrors that were filled with Martins. “How long has it been, Jon, since you’ve had a prick inside you?”

A long time. Jon usually didn’t bother with it. Jon usually didn’t have temptation rubbed in his face. Jon hoped his desperate whine conveyed the full nuances of that answer.

“Look at him,” the Martin off to the side cooed. “So sweet and needy. Shall we have pity on him?”

The Martin whose face hovered above Jon’s, sweat glistening on his forehead as he pounded Jon into the mattress, licked his lips. “…maybe? I kind of… kind of like him… like this.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll have him like this again, soon enough. I think it’s enough for now. If he asks nicely, you can let him come.”

Jon locked eyes with the Martin fucking him and managed to mouth Martin’s name, but couldn’t get any sound out other than a grunt as Martin shifted his weight and found a deeper angle. It was, quite literally, breathtaking. Surely he must be tiring. Jon could feel the insides of his legs going numb. It felt like they’d been at this for hours. “–rtin. Please…”

“Please what?”

Jon couldn’t do it. He was willing to beg, more than willing, but he couldn’t find the words he needed. He grabbed Martin by the hair instead and pressed their mouths together. It was too uncoordinated and messy and filled with teeth to be considered a proper kiss, but it was good enough that Martin’s hand started moving, stroking Jon off with the same unrestrained power that he was putting into fucking Jon.

Martin moaned into his mouth before tearing himself away, rearing up and releasing Jon’s cock to pull him closer, two broad hands grasping thighs and yanking him up and onto Martin’s cock. The new angle was exquisite, and Jon’s cock slapped against his stomach with every thrust, leaving behind smears, never quite stimulated enough to finish.

“God, just touch yourself,” Martin’s voice said from behind Jon’s head and Jon sobbed with relief at the permission and did so. It was nothing compared to Martin’s hand, but it was good enough. He didn’t close his eyes, but his vision went fuzzy around the edges as his orgasm crested over him, tears streaming down his face as he finally came.

It seemed to last forever. He was faintly aware of Martin’s thrusts turning frantic and then stilling, more aware of Martin’s bulk thudding on the bed beside him, his arm flung over Jon’s chest, and only retroactively aware of the sound of fond laughter over his shoulder. Mostly, he was a mess of trembling, singing nerves, his body deliciously sore in a way he’d never felt before. He couldn’t move his legs. He could barely feel his legs. His heart was still racing, and he still didn’t feel like he could get enough air, and the sticky mess on his abdomen was rapidly cooling, but he’d never felt better in his life.

Martin pressed his lips just under Jon’s temple, and Jon realized he was kissing away the tear tracks. Caught between comforted and embarrassed, Jon turned his head and saw… Martin. It should have been unnerving. Instead, it was welcome. “Thank you,” Jon said, before turning back to the Martin who’d fucked him. “Thank you both.”

“My pleasure,” Jon’s Martin said.

Future-Martin laughed. “Anytime.”

“Do you mean that?” Jon asked, and tried not to worry when a slight frown creased Martin’s face.

“Maybe. I’ll have to discuss it with Jon. My Jon.”

“Of course,” Jon said, trying to hide his disappointment. He wanted this again. Not right away, of course, but… eventually. Probably.

“I’ll grab you two some water. And a cloth for you, Jon. You can catch a nap here, if you need, that was… physically demanding.”

Jon knew he felt wrung out, and he hadn’t been the one doing most of the work. Martin shifted awkwardly next to him and started to pull his arm away. Jon caught his hand before Martin could pull it completely off Jon’s chest and held it. Coincidentally over his heart. Not that that meant anything…

“Jon?” Martin said tentatively.

“I, uh… I suppose I should apologize for how I approached this. I’m glad… grateful that you were willing to give it a chance, despite my rather abrasive nature.”

Martin laughed, dry and somewhat self-deprecating. “You had to know I’d say yes. Even if you hadn’t realized it before they came, you have to know now that I’m crazy about you.”

“Yes, but I haven’t been kind about it. And I feel like I’ve used that, used you somewhat unfairly.”

Martin shrugged. “Maybe, but I honestly don’t care. We haven’t been through what they have, and maybe that means we’ll never be that close, that you’ll never… But it doesn’t matter. Because I’ll always have this. I’ll always know that when you needed it, I was able to help you. And,” Martin blushed, “and now I’ll know how you look when you’re coming your brains out, and that’s nice too.”

Jon surprised himself by snorting. “Martin!”

“What? I’m sorry, Jon, but I’m going to be playing that memory on repeat until I have something better to replace it with.”

“You think…” Jon felt his lips curve in a small, but genuine, smile. “You think maybe we’ll have the chance to replace it with something better?”

“I hope so,” Martin said, returning his smile. “One way or another, I hope so.”

This Martin was, perhaps, more similar to the other Martin than Jon had thought. And, perhaps, he had the potential to become even more so. Just as Jon could, perhaps, mature a little into someone resembling his own future self.

“As do I.”

Based off something that I saw on AO3. Tim isn’t dead, but he is returned, and only Elias knows. He is also returned as a sex toy; sensitive and unaware, but not in control of what happens to him.

+ Toys
++ Elias telling no one
+++ Tim starts to appreciate the attention
++++ Elias plugging all of Tim’s hole

DNI:
- Bodily fluids
- Feminization
- Tim being damaged

Not OP but this was hot, and it's good to see them figuring things out!

Thanks! I think their future counterparts have more work to do, but Jon's becoming more open to the idea, at least.

aaaa, love this

Thanks!

After Jane sent that last text to Jon in episode 22 ('Keep him. We have had our fun. He will want to see it when the Archivist’s crimson fate arrives.'), Martin probably cancelled the contract on his old phone when he got a new one. But what if the archive staff had tried to communicate with Jane instead, to try to gain even a slight hint about where she was and what she was planning, in the early days before they'd even read her statement? Broadly speaking there are quite a few ways you could run with this, if it's a 'what if' that catches the imagination:

- The attack comes as quickly as canon, or sooner, with all the more opportunities for threats, misinformation, failed location tracking attempts etc. Maybe Martin texts questions like 'why did you let me go?' and 'what do you want?' and gets only the malice he expected in return, without Jane letting slip anything useful. Maybe Jane texts back with verbal taunting, or pictures of other victims (dead or alive), or nudes of her worm-infested flesh. Or she finds nudes Martin had taken of himself at some point, and sends them to Jon and the others, leading to some uncomfortable conversations about whether they should cancel that contract and block that number after all. Maybe she even sends nasty texts to Elias, or Martin's mum, which he'd find hard to handle in season 1.

- Jane bides her time with the worm-circle in the tunnels that she was using to start her ritual, which would've taken years to develop, and doesn't rush into attacking the basement archives in the meantime. Maybe she shares the Distortion's niche as a malevolent source of hints about the Eye, and the archives staff don't really have a way of getting rid of her, so they just take whatever cryptic info they can get. Maybe she hangs around long enough to attack different characters at different times - the staff's allies or enemies? Maybe she finds Gertrude's body and sends a photo along with some happy emojis? Maybe as Jon questions his own humanity and eventually starts comparing himself to her, he texts her instead of just staring at her remains in the jar/tunnels and wondering what had gone through her mind? (Artistic liberties could be taken for Jane to be capable of holding a conversation beyond 'lol i want to kill you all'... it's striking that she couldn't seem to remember her own life very clearly even before she stuck her hand in the wasps' nest.)

Gen's fine, or ships within the archives staff, and/or assault by Jane! (Any kind of tone's ok - pure horror, dark humour, creepy smut, or other emotions if an idea evokes them.)

This fandom is sorely lacking in transfem Jon content methinks, so I'm throwing out the line for...well, literally any content involving him! Or her, or them. Whichever pronouns you wish you to use, I'll be happy with any of them.

This is a pretty open ended prompt, so I'll be down for almost whatever, however I'll sell you my soul if you went in a fluffy hurt/comfort direction, because that's my favorite genre of fic. I'm also very welcome to smut, especially smut exploring how Jon's asexuality and gender impact her experience with sex. :o

Bonuses:
+Jon still being short and tiny despite being AMAB
+The other character also being trans in some way
++Jon using she/her or she/they pronouns
+++The other character being someone other than Martin, Tim or Elias (don't get me wrong, I love those pairings, it's just always fun to have a little variety y'know?)
++++++Jon being called cute, feminine pet names like "baby girl" or "princess"

DNWs:
-heavy angst (including major character death)
-heavy focus on transphobia, internalized or otherwise
-post MAG200 settings
-scat
-hyper/unrealistic kinks
-gore

I don't even know if you're in the fandom anymore, anonymous prompter, but I hope if you are, you enjoy this two year-late fill.

AO3 link only, because I don't want to wrestle with comment formatting right now, sorry: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31334360 (2438 words)

“Tea’s up,” Martin said cheerfully, taking his and Jon’s into the Head Archivist’s office.

Tim waited for the door to close before giving Sasha a significant look and leading her to the kitchen. “So.”

“No. No, no, no, you are not dragging me into this.”

“Come on, Sasha,” Tim wheedled. “You have to see it.”

“Just because he brings Jon his tea, doesn’t mean anything. You know Jon wouldn’t leave his office for anything less than an actual fire.” Tim just gave her a look. Sasha sighed. “Alright, maybe. And maybe it’s cute? Like a puppy sniffing after a cat? But Jon’s so cruel to him, and Martin just… takes it and then makes him tea and… I dunno.”

Tim picked up his tea and took a victory sip. “The way I see it, is we have two options. The first is to make Jonathan Sims fall in love with Martin Blackwood.”

“Impossible.”

“Fair. I like the guy, but I legitimately don’t know if he’s capable of computing that human emotion we call love.”

“He’s not a robot, he’s worse. He’s middle management.”

Tim laughed. “Like you weren’t gunning for the job.”

“I’d have been one of those fun managers that remembers birthdays but can be discrete about it.”

“You’re sure we can’t set up a mutiny?”

“Not without Martin, and he’s a lost cause.”

“True. Speaking of, second option is to help Martin get over Jon.”

Sasha leaned forward. “Ooh, I like that one much more. You’re sure he’s gay and not bi?”

“He’s checked me out and not you. I’m pretty sure.”

“I’m not everyone’s type.”

“Sounds fake, but okay. I’d be fine with taking him out to a gay bar, but that seems a little too… obvious?”

Sasha snorted. “Oh, are we trying to be sneaky here?”

“Yes! He’s got a thing for Jon and we want to ease him out of it, preferably without him even noticing. Hopefully, Jon never catches on, and we never have to see Martin awkwardly confessing to Jon, or Jon awkwardly rejecting Martin, or both of them awkwardly pretending Martin’s crush doesn’t exist.”

“Alright, so a regular bar. Can you invite one of your friends from gym?”

Tim made a face. “If Jon’s Martin’s type, none of my friends would be. I have some guys from my old job, but I kinda… burnt some bridges when I left.”

Sasha’s entire face softened. “I’m sure they’d understand, after what happened with Danny…”

“Yeah, except I really don’t want to talk to them about it.”

“Alright. Well, we can use your patented ‘who do they check out’ method and push Martin towards any decent-looking guys who notice him.”

“Easy enough. I can scope out targets while carrying on a conversation half-drunk in my sleep.”

“You charmer.”

“You love me.”

“You–” Sasha’s retort was cut off as Martin left Jon’s office, his cheeks flushed and his eyes lowered. “Dammit.”

Tim’s gaze followed hers. “Yeah. He looks rough.”

“I have some chocolate,” Sasha said conversationally, loud enough for Martin to overhear. “If I eat it all, I’ll be sick, and I will eat it all if left to my own devices.”

“Sorry, Sasha,” Tim said. “Low carb today. Hit up Martin?”

“He’s with Jon – oh, hi, Martin!” Sasha gave Martin a sunny smile. “Save me from overdosing on chocolate?”

Martin returned her smile with an equally cheerful one. “Sure, thanks! Um. Should we ask Jon…”

“Have you ever seen him eat anything sweet?” Tim asked and Martin flushed and looked down. He had it bad. “Yeah, exactly. Besides, he wants chocolate, he can come down from his ivory tower and get some.”

“Stop volunteering my chocolate,” Sasha said. “It’s just for me and Martin. Chocolate buddies.”

Martin’s grin was much easier now. “I’ve finished my tea but – Sasha! You haven’t even touched yours!”

“Sorry, distracted,” Sasha said, gulping down her cup. “All done. God, that’s good. Right, chocolate!” She marched Martin over to her desk and rummaged through it for her emergency period chocolates. “Here. Get it away from me before I succumb to its evil wiles.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Martin said. “Thanks for… this.”

“You’re welcome,” Sasha said, sighing as Martin returned to his desk.

“See?” Tim said softly, nearly whispering into her ear. “It’s pretty dire.”

“And he knows it.” Sasha whispered back. “He’s going to waste away pining for that man, and he knows it.”

“We can’t let that happen,” Tim said. “Martin deserves better.”

Before Sasha could answer, Jon stuck his head out of his office. “Martin! You left your cup in here.”

“Sorry, Jon!” Martin called, immediately jumping up from his desk to rush into Jon’s office.

“We’ll take him out Friday night,” Sasha said after the door closed behind him. “He’s more likely to successfully pull on a weekend, and it’d be too awkward to ask him out Saturday.”

“Right. It’ll be easy. We’ll spend the first bit buttering him up, then send him home with someone halfway decent. He realizes that there are way less acerbic fish in the sea and that the fish like him back and that fishing is actually fun.”

“So is actually eating what you catch instead of throwing it back after a one-night stand.”

“We’re not talking about me,” Tim said easily. “Also, that depends on the fish. Also, we’re going to have to work out a secret set of signals so that any potential fish aren’t scared away by thinking either one of us is with Martin.”

Martin slipped out of Jon’s office, avoiding eye contact with both Tim and Sasha as he carried two empty tea cups to the kitchen. Sasha sighed. “Are we doing the right thing? I mean, Martin seems like the sort of guy who needs a relationship, not just a good shag.”

“Well, we can’t actually get him to connect with anyone on anything other than a superficial level, so I’ll take what I can get. Besides, don’t underestimate the benefits of a good shag. Just knowing there’s someone out there who’ll actually like him back and give him the time of day should help him get over whatever he has for Jon.”

“I hope you’re right,” Sasha said. “If this keeps up, I don’t know how long I can tolerate watching Martin break himself for someone who really doesn’t even seem to notice.”

“I don’t see how he misses it. It’s right under his nose! Just unobservant, I guess.”

“Who is?” Martin asked, coming up behind them. Sasha jumped a little, but Tim managed to plaster on a bright smile.

“A mutual acquaintance from research,” Tim said, technically not even lying. “Say, what’re you doing Friday night?”

Martin looked startled. “Oh. I. Um. Nothing?”

“Great! Come out with Sasha and me. There’s a new place we were hoping to check out.”

“I, uh. Okay?” Martin’s expression was still uncertain, but there was a small smile creeping over his face. “Yeah, that’d be nice. Thanks!”

Sasha grinned encouragingly. “Awesome. Bring something nice to change into. We’re making a proper night of it.”

“Sure, I have a few things.” Martin’s smile dimmed slightly. “Uh, have you invited Jon yet?”

“Nah,” Tim said, and Martin looked relieved. “We were thinking of making it an assistants-only kind of outing.”

“O-oh,” Martin said. “I just thought… I mean, if you were worried about him saying no, I could…”

“We want to go out with you,” Sasha said. “We’ll invite Jon along with the three of us some other time. No need to throw yourself on the sword of Jon’s allergy to fun.”

“I was just–”

“He never likes this things anyway,” Tim said. “Remember your birthday? Him rambling on about effulgent or whatever?”

“Emulsifiers,” Martin said. “And I just think he likes sharing knowledge?”

Sasha clasped Martin’s hands in hers. “Martin. Think about it. Do you really want to have Jon hovering over you while you get truly and sincerely blitzed?”

Martin flushed. “I mean. Not in public, I guess.”

“I don’t think he’s less of a buzz-kill in private,” Tim said. “We’ll put in a full day’s work for him, no slacking off, but the evening will be ours, Martin. Who knows? Magic might happen!”

“I… I guess.” Martin looked between Sasha’s encouraging expression and Tim’s charming grin. “Yeah, I think that’d be nice. Um. I have… I should check something with Jon. Something job-related, not anything… recreational. I’ll uh… thanks. For thinking of me. I’m really looking forward to Friday.” For the third time in less than half an hour, Martin ducked back into Jon’s office.

“So,” Sasha said after about a minute. “D’you think he’s ratting us out?”

“Martin would never! Besides, we aren’t doing anything wrong.”

“I dunno, I just. I feel like this should feel better? Like we’re helping him, but I just feel like we’re tricking him.”

“Both can be true at the same time.”

“I know, I’m just imaging you and Martin pulling this on me, and thinking about all the ways I’d have to hide your bodies after I violently murdered the two of you.”

“Sure, okay, but hear me out. In this scenario you, Sasha James, are infatuated with Jonathan Sims.”

“…alright, that’s a fair point.”

Tim grinned. “It’ll be fine. Martin’s a great guy, and he deserves to have someone appreciate that.” The sound of a chair scraping across the floor followed by a dull thud could be heard coming from Jon’s office. “…what was that?”

Sasha cocked her head. “No screams. Should we check it out or pretend to work?”

Tim was already moving towards the office, frowning as he focused, trying to hear anything else. Jon’s office was hardly soundproofed, but there were enough books and files strewn around that the stone walls didn’t echo as resonantly as they could. “I can’t hear anything.” He hesitated at the door. “Should I?”

Sasha shrugged and nodded. Tim hesitated a moment longer before knocking on the door. “Everything okay in there?”

“Fine!” Martin’s voice, slightly panicky, rang out. “Everything’s fine!”

Tim shot Sasha a look and opened the door. Martin stood there, looking frazzled, standing over a fallen chair. Jon looked exasperated, his face slightly flushed with anger. At least he hadn’t taken it out on Martin yet. Tim immediately switched from conspirator mode to conciliator mode.

“How on earth did that happen?” he asked cheerfully. Martin stammered, but Tim didn’t let him form an answer. “Good thing nothing was damaged, isn’t it?” He bent and picked up the chair, placing it back in its usual position. “There, all fixed. No harm, no foul, right?”

“Did you need something, Tim?” Jon said, instead of thanking him, which was about par for the course.

Tim turned his grin on full power. “Nope, just heard a ruckus, and thought I should investigate. It’s kind of my job, you know.”

“Well,” Jon said, his face still flushed, but managing his usual severe, slightly constipated, expression. “It actually isn’t. Research into actual phenomena is, however, and I suggest you return to it.”

“Right-o! Coming, Martin?”

Martin’s eyes darted between Jon and Tim. “I suppose so. Uh. Sorry, Jon?”

“Don’t be sorry,” Jon said, so severely it was almost a snap. “Just… get back to work.”

“Right.” Martin gazed at Jon with such open affection that Tim couldn’t help but grab his hand and drag him away. It was worse than they’d thought.

Sasha immediately took over Martin duty when Tim closed the door behind them, one hand on Martin’s shoulder, the other grasping his elbow. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” Martin said with a small laugh. “Just a little embarrassed, I guess. It was… clumsy of me.”

Sasha and Tim exchanged a knowing look over Martin’s head. “As long as no one was hurt,” Sasha said.

Martin flushed a little and shook his head. “Nope. No one was hurt in there. Just the chair.”

“Did you stand up too fast or something?” Sasha asked. Martin’s flush deepened. “No, it doesn’t matter. We’re just making a big deal out of nothing. We should really…”

“Get back to work,” Martin said, nodding quickly. “Yup. Sorry about all the commotion.”

“It’s fine,” Sasha said. She smiled at Martin as he took his seat before turning to Tim with an expression of desperation and taking out her phone. Tim was quick enough to pick up on the cue and the moment he was seated at his desk, he took out his. It wasn’t long before he got Sasha’s first message.

You’re sure there’s no one you can call who we can just “coincidentally” meet at the bar? No one who’ll sweep Martin off his feet?

No one off the top of my head. Like I said, I don’t think they’d be Martin’s type any more than I am.

You’re not everyone’s type???

Ha ha. What about you? No surly bookish gay nerds in your friends group?

No. I’m cool, remember?

Sasha, I love you, but look around. You might be cool, but bookish nerds are your wheelhouse.

Not surly ones. Except for Jon. Unless he breaks Martin’s heart, then he’s dead to me.

Yeah, I know what you mean. Even if he doesn’t break Martin’s heart, I’m not sure how much more of this one-sided pining I can take.

You’re such a romantic.

Baby, I know.

If this doesn’t work, do you have any other ideas?

I thought about signing him up for dating apps. I THINK I could pull it off as a kind of thoughtlessly cruel prank, but I’d rather not.

No, that doesn’t sound like a good idea. I’m sure we’ll think of something else.

Maybe we won’t have to. Maybe Martin will meet someone and they’ll hit it off, and we’ll be annoyed by him constantly messaging them and giggling throughout the day.

It’s better than this.

Agreed.

They had a plan. It could work. There was no reason to think it wouldn’t. And, honestly, if it didn’t, that would mean that they’d spent an evening hanging out with Martin for no reason. Not the worst fate.

The bar was just beginning to fill up when they arrived. They’d done some pre-gaming at Tim’s insistence, some shots of a half-decent whiskey he’d smuggled in and shared after they’d technically clocked out but before they left. Martin kept shooting concerned glances over at Jon’s office, but took his shots with everyone else, and had visibly relaxed by the time they’d gotten food from the chippy on the way. Most of the patrons seemed to have come from work as well, and were wearing anything from slacks and shirts to proper suits, mostly with loosened ties but otherwise very official. Some people were clearly there to drink while others were with friends, and a few were scanning the room periodically.

Tim evaluated each of the scanners, then shook his head. “Let’s find a table.” He grabbed Sasha’s arm and pulled her in beside him, leaving the other side open for Martin. Martin sat down across from Tim, leaving the seat next to him open and accessible.

“This looks like a nice place,” Martin said. It was perhaps a bit generous. The music was bland American pop-rock and the drink selection wasn’t great. Tim ordered a round and an appetizer for the table and scoped out the room again.

Sasha took over the burden of socializing. “So, Martin. What exactly do you do when you’re not digging up details on non-existent cemeteries or decades-old spooky encounters?”

Martin smiled. “I walk a lot. There are a bunch of nice parks just a few stops away from my place, and I kind of cycle between them. I’ve also been reading a bit – it feels like I missed out on some parts of my education, and I kinda want to catch up? Oh, and I write, sometimes.”

“What do you write?”

“Little things. Um. Poetry mostly.”

“Anything you’d like to share with the class?” Tim asked.

Martin flushed. “I… it’s not very good? Anyway, what do you two do?”

“Tim goes to the gym,” Sasha said.

“Sasha has, like, three book clubs,” Tim said. Martin lit up with interest. “You don’t want to join them. There’s a certain density of single women that can be hard to take.”

“It’s not that bad,” Sasha said, taking a sip, then frowning. “Actually, yeah. It’s that bad. I mean, it’s fun, don’t get me wrong, but it’s… I also run a weekend day-camp in the fall. They could always use writing mentors.”

Martin grimaced. “Like I said, I’m not very good. And I don’t know if I’d be any good with kids.”

“You are made of sweetness and light, you’d be great,” Sasha said. “But I understand if you don’t want to. Those little beasts can be a handful.”

“I did not know that about you,” Tim said. “I never thought you’d have an interest in kids.”

“Not my own,” Sasha said. “Ugh. But other people’s kids are fine for a short amount of time.”

“Do you want kids?” Martin asked Tim.

Tim shrugged. “Sure, maybe. Actually, yeah. It’d be nice, I think, with the right partner. You?”

Martin shook his head. “No, I think I’m with Sasha. Kids are great, but one of my own… I’d be too afraid of messing up, you know?”

“I’m pretty sure all parents are, and they all mess up to a degree,” Tim said, his smile fading as Martin started looking sick. “Hey, you alright, there?” He kept his voice light. “Don’t tell me you’re a cheep drunk.”

“No,” Martin said, a little tremulously. “No. I… actually, I’ll get the next round.” He ignored the half-full pints in front of Tim and Sasha and headed towards the bar.

Sasha frowned after him. “Did we do something wrong?”

“Don’t think so,” Tim said. “We were keeping it pretty light, I think. Talking about hobbies and such. But clearly we should change the subject.”

“Anyone interesting?”

Tim grimaced. “Not really.” He cocked his head towards an older man drinking alone. “He’s been eying Martin, but I don’t like the cut of his jib.”

Sasha looked Tim dead on. “The what?”

“You heard me. Although, if Martin has a thing for Jon, maybe older men are his type?”

Sasha snorted. “They were born months apart.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I know, right? Martin’s got the youthful energy, but Jon’s not really any older. On the other hand, I think Jon was just born old.”

“I don’t think we should talk about Jon if he’s not here,” Martin said, returning with the drinks. “Seems… disrespectful.”

Both Sasha and Tim snorted at that. “Disrespectful?” Tim said. “Martin, the most common reason to go out for drinks after work is to complain about your boss. It’s tradition!”

“Yeah, but Jon’s not–”

“D’you think he dresses like that because it makes him look like the English Lit professor who marked your grammar over your content, or does he just not know?” Sasha asked, interrupting Martin.

Tim laughed. “I honestly think he thinks it’s what he should wear, despite the fact that no one at the institute, not even Elias, wears anything like that.”

“Maybe it’s just what he’s comfortable wearing,” Martin said.

“I think he’s trying to dress to match his personality,” Sasha said. “Uptight, superficially respectable, beige.”

Tim laughed. “Jon’s not beige. Have you heard him going off on anyone? He’s more… puce.”

“Puce.”

“Yeah, like a dark reddish brown that somehow sounds like an off shade of green.”

Sasha burst out laughing, and even Martin gave a slightly scandalized giggle. “I’m looking that up,” Sasha declared, then started giggling again. “It’s named after the French word for ‘flea’, apparently.”

“Appropriate,” Tim said. “He’s persistent, irritating, and you can’t squish him, no matter how hard you try.”

“Yeah?” Martin said. “You’re telling me you tried?”

Tim scoffed. “Nah. Why bother? He’s all skin and bones, not soft and comfy like you.”

There was a moment of silence as Martin flushed. “Um. Well. Boney’s not so bad.”

His attention split between shit-talking with his friends and scoping out potential candidates to take Martin home, Tim missed the subtle cues. “We should use our research skills to find someone who’s actually hugged the guy and get a full report.”

Sasha nudged Tim. “Or, we could just talk about what kind of guys are squishable. For example, Andy in IT.”

Tim frowned and looked at Martin’s face before brightening. “Sure, Andy’s a dish.” He squeezed Sasha’s hand in thanks for stopping him before he went too far. “Thoughts, Martin?”

“He’s had a girlfriend for over two years.”

“How is that relevant? He still has those lovely shoulders…”

“It’s relevant because she probably wouldn’t approve!”

Tim and Sasha laughed. “We’re not going to accost him, Martin!” Sasha said. “We’re just appreciating him. I mean, you have to admit, he’s nice to look at.”

“So are you,” Martin said. “So’s Tim!”

“True, true,” Tim said. “We archival assistants are a pretty terrific threesome.”

“You’re leaving out Jon again.”

“Jon is…” Tim tried to look for the right words, five shots and two pints into the evening. “I guess if he’s not frowning or talking, he’s okay.”

Sasha shrugged. “Maybe if he dressed better and we’d never met and it was a dimly lit club?”

“He’s fine!” Martin insisted. “He’s just as nice-looking as any of us! Nicer!”

This hadn’t been the plan. The plan had been to distract Martin from Jon, not make him obsess over him.

“Look,” Tim said. “Jon is… probably someone’s type.” Martin’s type, if the one-sided pining was anything to go by. “And that’s fine. But I’ve known him for a couple of years, and I just don’t think anyone’s his type.”

It was as gentle as he could be, in letting Martin down. He didn’t expect the way Martin snickered, like he was enjoying a joke only he understood.

Sasha, probably the most sober person present, shot Tim a worried look. Tim shrugged back, completely clueless.

“Hey,” a cute redhead with bouncy curls and a shirt cut just a little too low and hugging her torso just a little too tight came up to their table. “There aren’t any free seats left in this joint. Mind if I join you?” She was looking at Martin.

Martin smiled at her. “Sure! We were just superficially evaluating people we knew based on important traits such as shoulders and fashion sense, but we can switch to evaluating strangers in a bar with you. Apparently it’s fun!”

She looked a little uncertain, but slipped into the seat next to Martin. “Okay. My name’s Sasha.”

Sasha stared at her. “No way.” She’d been about to try to shoo her away, to leave the seat open for someone for Martin. But this… “Me too!”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“My name’s Sasha too!” The two women looked at each other and laughed. They had very different laughs. Tim shot Martin a look from across the table as they both became invisible to the Sashas.

After five minutes of trying to get a single word in edgewise while the two women shared their entire life history, Tim cocked his head for Martin to follow and they found a nice patch of wall to lean against.

“…this isn’t exactly what we’d planned for tonight,” Tim admitted.

Martin laughed. “Well, it’s hard to plan for meeting another person named Sasha. What are the odds? It’s hardly a common name like, like Michael.”

“Do we even know any Michaels?” Tim wondered aloud. Maybe someone at the gym… “No, no I meant that we’d planed to find someone for you to hook up with here.”

“Oh,” Martin said. “I’m… I’m actually okay? Thanks, though.”

“Yeah, no, you’re not. You’re pining, Martin! And not even over someone who deserves it! And… and I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that.”

Martin snickered. “Don’t worry. I don’t expect I’ll remember much tomorrow. I’ve never been this drunk before.”

“You don’t seem all that drunk.”

“I feel it, though. Don’t usually drink more than a couple of beers over a night. Jon’ll be mad.”

Tim snorted. “What? Why? Tomorrow’s Saturday and you’ll definitely sober up by Monday.”

“Yeah, but I… um… hmm… Nope.” Martin grinned. “You’re right, Tim. It’ll be fine by Monday!”

“You’re sure you don’t want to go home with anyone?” Tim asked. “I’m a pretty excellent wingman. And if you don’t like anyone here, we can try somewhere else tomorrow night.”

Martin made a show of looking around the room before settling his gaze back on Tim. “Nah. You’re just about the only one here who’d be worth the effort to pull.”

That. That was a brilliant idea! “Yeah, okay. Let’s!”

“…I’m sorry, what?”

“Come home with me! I can promise you a good time, at least, and a full English breakfast before work. We can even commute together!”

Martin laughed. “Are you, Tim Stoker, bribing me, Martin Blackwood, back to your flat?”

“Sure! Why not? I like you and you could use something to get your mind off of your unobtainable crush, and I guarantee that I make a most enjoyable distraction.”

“Oh, Tim,” Martin sighed and leaned into him. “You’re so sweet. If I could go back in time and tell my teenaged self that someone like you would be trying to make time with me, he’d punch me in the face.”

“He’d what?”

“I mean, not really. I’ve never really been a violent person… anyway, it’s killing me to turn you down.”

That… hurt. More than Tim would have expected. “Then don’t.” He forced a smile on his face. “What, you have a policy of not dating co-workers? I promise, no strings, Martin.”

“You’re sooo sweet,” Martin mumbled, and Tim could hear the slightly drunken slur threaded through his voice now. “Teenaged me would really punch me for this.”

“Alright, mate,” Tim said. “Martin-mate. Mate-in.” Maybe he’d had more than he should have as well. “Don’t be so hard on yourself just because you used to have taste.” Martin snorted. “I just wish you had something better waiting for you at home.”

“Better? Than Tim Stoker? Bite your tongue!” But Martin’s eyes went a bit dreamy, and Tim knew he was thinking about his crush on Jon. It was heartbreaking.

Fortunately, the Sashas finally noticed their absence and finished their drinks before giving up the table to join them. “And how are my boys doing?” Sasha asked, while Sasha giggled, and Tim grinned helplessly at them. They were cute together.

“We’re fine,” Martin said, generously not mentioning how he’d shot Tim down. “I’m kinda thinking of leaving, though.”

“The night’s still young,” New-Sasha said. “We could head out somewhere.” She looked Martin over and smiled. “I mean, whoever’s up for it.”

Tim wanted to tell her she was barking up the wrong tree, but… he wasn’t actually sure. He knew Martin liked men, but it was obviously possible to like both. Tim had practiced that art to perfection.

“I can’t speak for anyone else, but I’m knackered,” Martin said, either gay or completely oblivious. “This was fun guys. Thanks. See you Monday?”

“See you,” Sasha said. Tim echoed her.

They both turned to New-Sasha who shrugged philosophically and turned to Tim. “You in?”

“Second choice!?” Tim said, pressing his hand to his heart. “Yeah, I’m in.” The three of them marched off in search of something more entertaining. Sasha nudged Tim and pointed to where Martin was getting on a bus, his mobile pressed against his ear, smiling wider than either of them had ever seen.

“He doesn’t look knackered,” Sasha whispered to Tim. Tim shrugged. The evening plans had been a bust, but he was willing to make the best of it. They’d try something else later.

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Page 124 of 139

Prompt Post: The Magnus Archives #1

Jon/Martin BDSM (attempted)

Prompt: Jon compels Martin to share his fantasies; It Goes Badly

Re: PROMPT: Jon/Any or solo Jon - involuntarily on estrogen

Re: PROMPT: Daisy/Martin, vore fantasy

Re: PROMPT: Jon/Any or solo Jon - involuntarily on estrogen

prompt: Jon/Martin, chastity kink

Prompt: Danny/rule 63!Tim, corrective rape

Re: Fill: S1 Jon/Martin, misuse of Institute wifi 4/4

Re: Jon/Martin BDSM (attempted)

Re: PROMPT: Jon/Any or solo Jon - involuntarily on estrogen

Prompt: Jon/Assistant(s) noncon/dubcom lapwarming

Prompt: Jon/Sasha, t4t

Re: Prompt: Jon/Sasha, t4t

Fill: future martin & martin/jon, time travel, voyeurism, dom/sub 1/2

Fill: future martin & martin/jon, time travel, voyeurism, dom/sub 2/2

Elias/Tim - turned into a sex toy

Re: Fill: future martin & martin/jon, time travel, voyeurism, dom/sub 2/2

Re: Fill: future martin & martin/jon, time travel, voyeurism, dom/sub 2/2

Re: Fill: future martin & martin/jon, time travel, voyeurism, dom/sub 2/2

Re: Fill: future martin & martin/jon, time travel, voyeurism, dom/sub 2/2

Prompt: Jane & archive staff, ongoing texting

Jon/Any, transfeminine Jon

Fill: Elias/Mike Crew

Fill: jon/martin, secret relationship, misunderstandings 1/3

Fill: jon/martin, secret relationship, misunderstandings 2/3