Prompt Post: The Magnus Archives #1

[gertrude_robinson]

Rules

1. All comments to the meme must be anonymous. Linking to fills on AO3/Tumblr/website of your choice is allowed, but comments here must still be posted anon.
2. Concrit is welcome if the author requests it, but character bashing, kink shaming, and hijacking threads by derailing prompts with contrary comments or asking for additions to the prompt are not allowed.
3. Warning for spoilers and subjects such as non-con, incest, underage, character death and worms is highly recommended, but not mandatory.
4. Crossover prompts between Rusty Quill Gaming and The Magnus Archives may be posted to both posts.
5. Please link all fills to the fill post.
6. Don't be an asshole. Mods reserve the right to freeze, screen or delete at their discretion.
7. While it should go without saying (kink meme and all) please be advised that much of the content here may not be appropriate for individuals under 18.
8. Update: All prompts can be filled by more than one person. Two cakes (or three, or four) are always appreciated.

While spoiler warnings are not required, if you would like to spoiler cut anything, you can use the following code:

<div tabindex="-1"><b>spoiler title</b><div>Some spoilery content.</div></div>

Prompting Guidelines

1. The prompt should begin with "Prompt:"
2. The fill should begin with "Fill:". Otherwise there should be no change to the title.
2. Include the names of the character(s) or pairing(s) in the title, followed by the kink or trope if applicable. Pairings should be formatted A/B(/C/D).
3. If you would like to provide warnings, please put them in the first line of the comment to prevent the titles from getting too long.

And example title: Prompt: Jon/Plant monster, sex pollen

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Fill: Jon/Martin, fucking-your-boss kink but reversed 5/5

[(Anonymous)]

The day both flew and crawled by. Sometimes Martin would stare at the clock, urging it to move faster, sometimes he’d blink and lose several minutes to idle fantasies of Jon. By the time it was five, Martin was more than ready, and yet oddly nervous.

He’d planned, prepared for this. He’d gone shopping. He’d rehearsed various responses to what he thought Jon might say. He knew what he wanted, and he knew that Jon would agree to it, and he knew that everything would go well and, if it didn’t, he knew how to walk it back. He was ready.

Jon knocked precisely at one minute to five, before letting himself in. He looked calm and confident, his jaw set and his posture straight. “Basira is checking in on Melanie,” he said, as if that interested Martin at all. “She won’t see me, of course, but she might be willing to see you if you – hmghph.”

Martin would normally have let Jon at least finish his sentence before pinning him to the wall beside the door and kissing him breathless. Maybe he was a little on edge. He locked the door as he pulled Jon’s shirt free from his trousers. Jon struggled, not to get away, but to follow Martin’s rather undirected lead. His hands grasped Martin’s sleeves when Martin first pinned him against the wall before releasing Martin as he reached for the door with one hand and Jon’s crotch with the other. Now Jon’s hands were set lightly against Martin’s sides, his legs parted enough so that Martin could slide a knee between them, his mouth open and warm and welcoming. It took all of Martin’s willpower to pull away.

“Clothes off,” Martin grunted. Jon stared at him, the wall taking at least half his weight, panting lightly. He looked debauched and all Martin had done so far was kiss him. “Sometime today please, Jon.”

“R-right,” Jon stuttered, shaking his head as if to clear it, and pulling his shirt off. “Um, where should I…”

“Leave them on the floor and bend over my desk.” Martin had made plans. He’d intended to praise Jon for his morning training and tease him about increasing the challenge level and make lewd insinuations while touching him and rubbing against him. You know. Flirting. He hadn’t realized how working for an entire day with the thought of getting to fuck Jon at the end of it would affect him.

Jon, at least, seemed equally off-balance. He managed to get his shirt and trousers off without any difficulty, but taking off his socks was more of a production. Watching Jon hop around, fumbling with getting his socks over his heels, should have given Martin plenty of time to get himself together. Instead, Jon’s adorable awkwardness shot through Martin with a surprising wave of arousal, emptying out his brain with any thoughts other than the desire to bend Jon over and have his way with him.

“I, uh.” Jon finally dropped his socks on the pile of clothes, standing completely nude and looking lost. “I’m sorry, I forgot what I was supposed to do next?”

Martin had a sneaking suspicion that Jon was playing him, acting the part of the overwhelmed subordinate. But Jon, frankly, wasn’t that good a liar, and the little crease on his forehead of frustrated confusion, the way his eyes darted around as if looking for visual cues, the nervous fidgeting of his hands all seemed genuine. Genuine and yet perfectly designed to turn Martin on.

“Bend over the desk,” Martin said, his voice just a little husky with barely repressed desire. “You’ve flaunted yourself around the office enough to earn this, Jon. I’m going to give you what you so clearly want.”

Jon’s forehead smoothed, and his hands stilled. He moved towards the desk, his eyes turning to Martin, raking over his body. “Oh?” he asked, bracing his forearms on the desk and elegantly arching his back, presenting his lovely little arse. “Sticky notes and paperclips? I don’t recall asking for anything else, sir.”

Martin slammed the bottle of lube on the table in front of Jon, far more forcefully than necessary, and dropped the packet of condoms beside it. “Not with your foolish mouth, perhaps,” he conceded. “But your body’s been asking me to fuck it for days.” God, that line was terrible. Maybe Martin should have rehearsed this more.

Jon, to his credit, didn’t laugh. He didn’t even seem to find it amusing, his eyes focusing on the lube. “I. I’m. To be clear, Martin, while I’m more than agreeable to this, I haven’t… That is to say, it’s been a while…”

Of course it had – months in a coma, years of the nightmarish existence before that. It had been more than a while for Martin as well. But he focused on Jon’s assurance that he was more than agreeable to this. That meant yes, in Jon-speak.

“I’ll take my time with you,” Martin promised, sliding a hand over the curve of Jon’s back before caressing his buttocks. “I’ll make it good.”

“Oh,” Jon sighed, pressing his arse into Martin’s hand. “Thank you, Mr. Blackwood.”

Martin rewarded that with a kiss to Jon’s cheek, rather more tender than the situation really warranted, and a firm grope. Jon tensed a little in surprise and smiled and Martin kissed him again before grabbing the lube and condoms and settling behind Jon to really work him over.

From this angle, Jon looked almost unscarred. Martin could feel the worm scars as he ran his hands up and down Jon’s sides, but his back and buttocks had been spared. Instead, Martin could see other marks on him –his shoulder blades and spine jutting out under his skin, showing where Jon had lost weight he honestly couldn’t have afforded to lose during his coma. The streaks of silver in his hair, where before there had only been scattered lines of grey. The rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed, shallow and rapid as Martin did nothing but gently caress him and look his fill.

“Not to rush you,” Jon said finally, as Martin debated between pressing his lips to the dip of Jon’s spine or brushing his hair aside and mouthing at his neck. “But if this is going to take much longer, can I change positions?”

Martin considered the request, then pinched Jon’s side. “That would be ‘can I change positions, sir’. Or Mr. Blackwood, I’m not picky.”

“Hell you aren’t,” Jon muttered, yelping when Martin rewarded him with another pinch. “Fine! I’m sorry, Mr. Blackwood, now will you fuck me or let me stretch out?”

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” Martin said calmly, an idea occurring to him. “Your mouth just keeps getting you in trouble.”

“Is ‘in trouble’ a euphemism for ‘fucked’, sir?” Jon asked.

“Soon enough,” Martin said, removing his shirt. “For now…” He rolled out his shirt, into a gag that would likely be an uncomfortable fit in Jon’s mouth. “Will you behave, or do I have to quiet you?”

Jon looked at the shirt, then at Martin, then at the shirt again. “I can behave.”

“Will you?”

“Yes sir,” Jon said, leaning close until his cheek brushed against the back of Martin’s hand. “I’ll be good.”

Martin dropped the shirt to cup Jon’s face and hold it in place as he kissed him. Jon kissed back as sweetly as Martin could have wanted and made an adorable sound of protest as Martin pulled away and returned to his position behind Jon, his hands running over the gentle curve of Jon’s buttocks before spreading them.

He could hear Jon’s breathing speed up, watch his shoulders tense, even see him flinch when Martin opened the lube. “Relax, Jon.”

“I’m trying,” Jon said. Then, grudgingly, “sir.”

“See? You can be good,” Martin said, gently pressing his finger around Jon’s rim, never quite pressing in. “I do like it when you’re good for me. You were so good this morning. Messy, but good.” Jon relaxed a little as Martin rubbed and praised him. “Can you be good like that for me again, Jon?”

“Yes sir,” Jon said easily, and Martin could feel tension leaving his muscles as he breathed out. “Whatever you want from me.”

It sounded so sincere, so genuine. Martin swallowed around a suddenly dry mouth and pressed inside. Jon groaned but moved into it, an oddly graceful arch of his back that allowed Martin’s finger in deeper than Martin had anticipated. So. It had been a while, but this clearly wasn’t Jon’s first rodeo. “You okay?”

Jon huffed a laugh. “This is really happening. Yes, I’m okay. I’m more than okay, Martin, please…”

“That’s Mr. Blackwood,” Martin reminded him and pulled out quickly enough to have Jon groaning again, only to get more lube on his fingers and press in, first one, then a second.

It was much tighter, obviously, and somehow hotter, but Jon opened beautifully to both fingers, moaning and moving his hips in a lewd display that Martin could never have envisioned in his wildest fantasies. “God, you’re hot like this. What do you say, Jon? Want my prick?”

“Yes,” Jon gasped out, still fucking himself on Martin’s fingers. “Please, sir, Mr. Blackwood, yes…”

The world could have ended in that moment, and Martin would have been satisfied having experienced that. It didn’t, though. It kept going and Martin got to pull his fingers out of Jon to the broken, needy sound of Jon being desperate for him, slick himself up, and whirl Jon around before perching him on the edge of Martin’s desk, legs spread, cheeks red, eyes wide, like the wanton thing he was. “I want to see you,” Martin ground out, his voice rough with desire. Jon just nodded and leaned back, opening his legs wider, welcoming Martin in.

Maybe it was the position change, but there was more resistance than Martin expected. Jon threw an arm over Martin’s shoulder, bracing himself as he lifted his hips and hooked one leg around Martin’s back to improve access. Martin managed to press in, and it was tight and hot and perfect, and the noises Jon made were glorious. “Fuck, Martin,” Jon groaned as Martin snapped his hips forward to breach Jon’s last barrier of resistance. “You’re so gorgeous…”

Okay, now the world could end. Martin caught Jon’s lips in a messy, filthy kiss and pressed him back until Martin was bearing almost half his weight. Jon’s arm and leg tightened on Martin’s shoulder and hip, respectively, and his breath hitched on a moan as Martin thrust forward. He wanted this. He was real and naked, in Martin’s arms, on Martin’s desk, and he wanted this. He wanted Martin to give it to him.

So Martin did. Jon didn’t let him pull out far, his heel digging sharply into Martin’s back when he tried, but he certainly didn’t resist Martin thrusting in hard and deep, until he was burying himself to the hilt inside Jon with every thrust. Jon clutched at him and threw his head back, crying out unreservedly, as if he didn’t care who might hear him in Martin’s office after hours. And maybe he didn’t. Maybe he wasn’t ashamed of spreading his legs and letting Martin take him against his desk.

“You’re so amazing,” Martin groaned as he felt his balls tighten. “Can I…” No. He was the boss here. “I’m going to come inside you.”

“Yes, please,” Jon said, nodding rapidly. “Please, sir, fill me up, I want it there.”

Well, Martin was hardly about to say no to that. His grip tightened as he sped up, closer to the edge, his vision going just a little blurry as he approached it. He could feel Jon’s hand bumping against his stomach as he worked his own cock, chasing that same crest of pleasure. Everything was wonderful, everything was perfect, so why was Martin feeling a growing sense of unease, a cold, creeping sensation that was growing strong enough to distract him from the delights of Jon’s body. A sensation that was eerily familiar and wholly unwelcome.

It wasn’t enough to distract Martin from Jon’s lovely face, screwed up in pleasure as his body tightened around Martin, delightful little helpless sounds falling from his lips as his orgasm overcame him. Martin’s eyes squeezed shut as he shifted his grip from holding Jon to holding him in place and slammed into him, hard and fast, ignoring the tendrils of cool dampness seeping around his ankles, pretending they weren’t there, that nothing else was real aside from Jon and his tight arse and his sweet little gasps and his fingers clutching at Martin’s neck as Martin pounded into him until his pleasure crested and he spilled inside Jon’s gorgeous, welcoming body.

Martin had barely finished, the aftershocks still shuddering through him, when the doorknob rattled.

Rosie had warned him. She’d told him this morning and he’d forgotten, all memory of her words erased by the memory of Jon’s mouth around his cock. “Shit.” Martin pulled out, a little too abruptly if Jon’s unhappy noise was any indication, and gathered up Jon’s things, tossing them at him as Jon slipped off the desk. “Hide.”

Jon looked at him, wide-eyed and flushed, semen gleaming on his stomach and inner thighs, and giggled. A knock rang out and Martin felt like he was going insane. “It’s not funny, Jon!”

“I know,” Jon whispered, his voice rough with suppressed laughter. “I know, but after everything we’ve been through, this is… a little prosaic.”

He had a point. Getting caught having an office affair was so pedestrian. “Get under the desk, you ridiculous man.”

“Yes, sir,” Jon said, and even now, that send a shot of something warm through Martin.

Martin tucked himself in, knowing he probably still looked a mess, and opened the door.

Peter had his hand raised, as if preparing to knock again. “You lock your door?”

“Must have done it out of habit,” Martin said, lying reflexively. “I wasn’t aware we were meeting today.”

“It’s in my calendar.”

“Rosie and I have asked you dozens of times to sync your calendar with the institute’s–”

“Yes, yes,” Peter said, affably brushing that aside. “I’m just here to check up on how you’re doing with the Archivist back. I heard you two had a conversation in the library?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Martin lied. “I’ve tried to avoid him.”

“But you did and you haven’t. I’m not upset, Martin, there’s no need to make that face, it’s just disheartening. It makes things more… complicated.”

It sure did. “You said he’d probably never wake up,” Martin said, only half speaking to Peter, knowing Jon was hearing every word. “I’ve been mourning him for months, while pushing everyone else away in order to do what you want…”

“What we both want,” Peter said, soothingly. “It has to be you, Martin. You’re the only one who can balance between Forsaken and Beholding.”

So Peter had claimed. “I know.”

“This is hardly ideal, for anyone, but it is what it is. And if we don’t pull this off, it’s over for everyone, Jon included.”

“You’ve said.” Martin had to admit, it sounded far too plausible to be completely fabricated. “You also said you’d find more evidence of this threat.”

“Well, yes. The Archives being what they are, through the good work of Gertrude Robinson and Jonathan Sims–”

“Peter.”

“Fine. In any case, I believe I’ve found several of Dekker’s old statements. I’m confident they should provide you with the context you need.”

“Can I see them?”

“I still need to do a bit of verification. But soon.”

“Alright. Was there anything else?”

“No, that’s all for now. I’ll be in touch if you need reminders to stay away from that Archivist of yours.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

The moment the door closed behind Peter, Jon popped up from behind Martin’s desk, unfortunately dressed. “I have so many questions.”

“Don’t start.”

“Okay,” Jon agreed, unnervingly easily. “So I suppose we’ll have to be more discreet from now on?”

Martin groaned.

“He can’t come into the Archives without me knowing,” Jon continued. “I have a desk in my office if that’s a deal-breaker. I’m still not sure if you like them because they’re convenient or because you like them.”

“Oh my god,” Martin said, adrenaline fading and exhaustion overwhelming him. “Shut up, Jon.”

“Of course, Mr. Blackwood,” Jon said cheerfully and Martin couldn’t not cross the room and kiss his mouth shut.

He had a lot to learn, this Archivist of his. And Martin knew that, no matter what Peter had to say about it, he would thoroughly enjoy teaching him.

Re: Fill: Jon/Martin, fucking-your-boss kink but reversed 5/5

[(Anonymous)]

not op but this is awesome, i love them finding finding such a playful way to connect, even while they're trying to deal with all the serious stuff in their lives <3

Re: Fill: Jon/Martin, fucking-your-boss kink but reversed 5/5

[(Anonymous)]

Eldritch horrors aside, Jon is just desperate for a win and Martin is desperate to have his cake and eat it too. Thanks!

Re: Fill: Jon/Martin, fucking-your-boss kink but reversed 5/5

[(Anonymous)]

fuck, this was good

Re: Fill: Jon/Martin, fucking-your-boss kink but reversed 5/5

[(Anonymous)]

Well. This was wonderful and very hot. It also taught me at least three new vocabulary words. I love when my porn teaches me things! Gotta stay sharp somehow.