forcefem JE, heavy on the drugging of Jon!! Elias manhandling Jon into various positions while taking photos and calling her pretty, Jon just moaning because his head is so fuzzy
Ask and ye shall receive, under the cut for length because this got long. You also get two POVs for extra fun.
okay, hear me out, peter fucking jon slowly in contrast to everyone else who always fucks jon fast, and jon likes the feeling of peter using him slow and taking his time
*whispers* I don’t even ship them what the Hell happened, it’s five pages. Here’s whatever this is, I think I was possessed.
Jon hadn’t known what to expect after from Peter after he had accepted Jon’s rather impulsive proposition. It was just, Elias wasn’t here, and Jon had gotten so used to going to his office when he needed to get out of his head.
Jon almost expected him to ask if he was joking, yell at him to get out of his office, laughing at him for the audacity. Only Peter hadn’t, instead he had looked at Jon like he was a three course meal, or a sacrificial lamb that had so kindly placed itself on the altar. Considering it was his desperation to not be alone, to be touched and held, even if it was just to be used that had led him to this, maybe the comparison was apt. His friends were gone or hated him, and Elias wouldn’t even see him, a real treat for the embodiment of loneliness he was.
“Well Archivist why don’t we start with you getting undressed,” Peter hadn’t moved from his seat behind Elias’s his desk, seeming content to watch for the moment. Jon could feel his face heat up, momentarily thankful that his complexion hid his blushing. Awkwardly he pulled his sweater off setting the rather threadbare article aside as he started to undo his shirt buttons. Usually Elias would always take charge, instructing him, or simply taking matters in his own hands, the lack of any of that was making him wonder if this had been a mistake. Realizing Peter hadn’t moved at all, not even shucking his jacket he frowned slightly.
“Aren’t you going to…? Jon trailed off gesturing to his clothing unsure how to complete the thought. Peter gave him another bland smile, leaning back in the chair with a creak.
“I’m just enjoying the show Archivist,” His eyes trailed along Jon’s body, it didn’t make him feel seen like Elias’s gaze, in fact that ever present attention was gone for the first time in as long as he could remember. Jon wondered if he turned around if the door would still be there, or if it would just be a never-ending fog. Was the chill in the air just due to his newly lacking clothing, or chill of the One Alone? Deciding to not find out he quickly unbuttoned his shirt, trying and failing to ignore the way that Peter’s attention fixed on his chest with a little appreciative hum.
It was a struggle not to stop and cover his chest, which was ridiculous, considering where this was leading. Maybe it was just how disconnected things seemed, like the world was receding. He could feel his nipples pebbling in the chill as the temperature dropped. Still he was never one to flee so the rest of his clothes quickly followed till he was standing there naked, clothes in a pile at his feet.
“Well aren’t you just lovely, come take a seat,” Peter’s bland smile didn’t waver as he patted the desk in front of him, sliding his chair back to give Jon room. Jon considered if fleeing at this point would be better, even without his clothes, no one was in the Institute at this hour, it was just him and Peter. Even as he turned the thought in his mind his feet were already moving, carrying him to sit in front of Peter, ramrod straight unsure what the sailor planned from here. Jon was used to Elias’s expectations, Peter was an unknown.
“You really should relax a bit Archivist, this is supposed to be pleasant,” Peter stood and Jon suddenly felt very small, as Peter towered over him, even seated on the desk. Jon once more considered whether this was a mistake, he could still run, probably, go back to his Archives. Only he was curious now, none of this had gone how he expected, and even with the Eye muted, curiosity was still worked deep into his bones. Peter raised a hand and Jon couldn’t help but flinch, eyes shutting for a moment, fluttering open again as Peter cupped his cheek. His hand was gentle and Jon was struck by the urge to press into it, the only warmth in the room. “Poor thing, is everyone else so rough with you?”
Jon didn’t know how to respond, to explain, Jon had expectations for things like this, he was used to being used, treated like an object, fucked fast and hard. Expected Peter to follow a similar pattern. Some perfunctory preparation if anything, loosen him up just enough to thrust inside him without damaging his dick. Only Peter seemed in no rush, as his thumb brushed against his cheekbone, leaving Jon feeling like a skittish animal that isn’t sure if relaxing meant comfort or yielding to a butcher’s blade.
Peter’s beard is rough against Jon’s skin as he guides Jon’s lips to his, tongue sliding in after brief contact. It was soft and gentle, like he had all the time in the world, like he knew, no one would find them in the fog. It was so different from Elias’s hungry kisses that made Jon feel like he a second away from being devoured whole, a gentle campfire, to a forest fire, and Jon couldn’t help but relax his eyes sliding shut once more. It was almost impersonal in a way, Jon could have been anyone, there was no desperate huger on Peter’s part, just gentle exploration. Peter’s hands had started to roam his body now, and Jon couldn’t hold back a breathy moan as he squeezed his breasts, his hands large enough to cover them completely, or maybe they were just small enough.
“Maybe I should steal you,” Peter’s voice sounded distant, and Jon wondered if he opened his eyes if he would see Peter or just fog. His emotions seemed dull, he knew he should feel something at Peter’s words, fear, or anger, not just cool detachment. Really did it matter if Peter made good on his words? Whatever Peter wanted to do he could, no one would come save, he was alone. His thoughts would have been alarming, but his panic was easily muffled by the fog flowing around him, dampening his thoughts. Though as Peter continued to grope at his chest physical sensation was bright and sharp, especially when one of his hands was replaced with lips and teeth.
“Ah…ahh,” Jon couldn’t find it in his dulled thoughts to feel embarrassed at his whimpering moans, squirming on the desk. He could already feel a dampness between his legs, and a growing desire to be touched there. Despite his attempt to entice Peter by spreading his legs, twitching his hips forward Peter continued to suck on his tits with a single-minded intensity. Swapping between them anytime Jon’s seemed to be getting used to it, to pull forth more little moans.
It could have been a few minutes or hours, the clock on the wall obscured by fog when Jon managed to get a glimpse in that direction. Only when Jon had progressed from wordless moaning, to pathetic pleas, to whining Peter’s name, to gasping breaths that Peter seemed to take mercy on him. It wasn’t instantaneous when Jon finally felt pressure on his clit, but it was close as Jon was pushed over the edge. His hips pressed up seeking more pressure as he keened clutching at Peter grasping the fabric of his shirt as he rode out his orgasm. Letting go to collapse back on the desk feeling his release dripping down the inside of his leg.
“Oh you’ve made a bit of a mess of my trousers, I’d have taken them off if you’d warned me,” Jon grumbled, trying to convey how little that was his fault without words, not bothering to try and sit up, eyes only half-open. He could hear fabric rustling as Peter undressed, clothes joining his on the floor judging by the sounds, though Jon couldn’t see him, couldn’t keep track of him. So Jon was not prepared for a large finger to press into his cunt, stretching his loosened walls open easily, voicing his displeasure with a soft whine. The finger withdrew and things were silent for a bit, Jon wondered if Peter had decided to abandon him in the fog. Panic welled slowly in his chest as the seconds ticked by, his breathing shortening to little panicked gasps.
“Easy boy, I’m still here, scared to be alone?” Peter sounded like he was talking to an easily spooked animal, his voice right near his ear startled him out of his panic. If Peter hadn’t laid a hand on Jon’s chest holding him down he might have fallen off the desk. Panic turned to embarrassment, good lord was he really on the edge of having a panic attack because Peter had let him take a few seconds to recover? Absolutely pathetic. Jon let himself relax again, reminding himself that he was in the Institute, even if the fog had come to occupy this office, his Archives were still there, even if Peter did leave him in the fog.
“Shut up,” He grumbled and Peter laughed as he carefully pulled him back till his head was tilted over the edge of the desk. The position giving Jon a first glimpse at what Peter no doubt expected him to take at some point in this endeavor. The slight panic must have shown on his face as Peter pat his cheek a bit condescendingly, though the flare of indignation, like most of his thoughts was muted. Peter was even still wearing his shirt and coat, only his lower half bare.
“Bit more than you’re used to?” Jon opened his mouth to reply, but Peter took the invitation sliding the head of his dick past his lips to rest it on his tongue, holding his head still. He paused, letting him get used to the stretch to his jaw, which Jon was nominally grateful for, even as drool dripped from the corners of his mouth. The pause didn’t last long as Peter slid forward, slowly and deliberately, pausing each time Jon panicked, letting him adjust before continuing. As he reached the back of Jon’s throat he held it there, and Jon had to swallow around it as drool continued to pool in his mouth and he could feel his dick pulsing against his tongue. He even managed to get a moan out of Peter, it wasn’t loud but it was a break from the cold detachment.
“Good boy,” Jon felt a pulse of warmth in his chest at the praise, trying to coax more of a reaction swallowing around him, trying to illicit more praise. The hand in his hair tightened as Jon moaned around him, keeping his head still as Peter started to thrust into his mouth, alongside gentle praise. Jon could feel his eyes water, it had been a while since someone had been gentle with him. With a sigh Peter pulled back removing his cock from Jon’s mouth completely with a soft pop. Jon panted, staring up at Peter his mouth opened in invitation, unsure what his next plan was.
“As lovely as your mouth is…” Peter’s voice trailed off as he made his way around the desk. Jon tried to sit up but he was held down, with a hand pressed against his abdomen and a small admonishment. Peter’s other hand was back at his cunt, lightly brushing his clit before sliding two fingers inside. The small break meant the fingers inside him weren’t overwhelming, just a pleasant stretch accompanied by the filthiest sounds from how wet he was. “Can you get pregnant Archivist?”
“N-no,” Jon whined his words stuttering through his abused throat, though in all honestly he wasn’t sure? He hadn’t gotten around to restarting any of his prescriptions, his body just seemed to be stuck. Considering he had been basically dead for a time he wasn’t quite sure how all that worked. Surely not right?
“Shame, I can only imagine how Elias would react if it took, he’d be livid probably, that I beat him to it.” Jon could feel himself squeeze down at the fingers still pressing inside him at the thought. Jon was not currently thinking straight enough to consider any of these implications. Peter looked thoughtful as he added a third finger making Jon whine at the stretch. He pulled back for a moment, his fingers returning coated now in something slick easing the way. All the while he kept talking as though mulling over the idea an amused smile on his face almost talking to himself, clearly not expecting an answer. “Might get my family off my back as well, a little addition, though who knows what sort of little monster you’d produce at this point.”
Jon was pretty sure Peter wasn’t really asking his opinion and with three fingers stretching him open words were a bit beyond him anyway. Still the reminder of the loss of his humanity, that he was a monster made him flinch, shame flooding though him. He wanted to object, he was still himself, wasn’t he? Peter pulled back slightly, clearly reading his flinch as physical pain and not his grappling with his distress over his inhumanity. Peter’s thumb returned to teasing his clit and despite Jon’s mild existential crisis the unexpected attention had his hips bucking up clenching around his fingers until they slid out completely leaving him empty.
“You know I could just leave you here, could you even find your way out with how starved you are?” Peter’s slightly amused tone didn’t give away if he was being serious or not. Terror flowed through Jon, the one type of fear that didn’t truly seemed muted at all, the thought of being left, abandoned, his breathing quickened, once more hovering at the edge of a panic attack. Seconds ticked by, each one seeming an eternity, until finally Jon felt hands on his thighs spreading him wide as he felt pressure between his legs as Peter leaned over him. “Just a little joke Archivist, you’re far too important for that.”
Jon whimpered as the blunt head started to press its way in, his back arching, despite the stretching he still felt like he was being split in half. The hands left his thighs, one to rub soothing circles on his abdomen as he tried to relax. The other shifted his leg up, spreading him wider, until finally the head popped in with an almost audible sound. Jon tensed clenching his eyes shut, expecting any gentleness to be done with, he’d be fine, probably, he had those healing powers after all. Time was still impossible to judge, but as the seconds ticked by and Peter hadn’t pressed any farther Jon slowly opened his eyes to meet the Captain’s. His expression was nearly impossible to read, though Jon could pick up the vague amusement from his smile.
“Poor thing, is everyone so rough with you?” Jon didn’t know whether he wanted to be indignant that Peter thought he was some breakable waif, or grateful that Peter seemed to be taking his limitations into account. Jon’s half aborted affronted grumble had Peter chuckling, the slight movement pressing him deeper and Jon yelped. Peter looked half-apologetic rubbing his clit in apology, as his other free hand wrapped around his hip keeping him still as he slid forward, The stimulation was a lot and Jon couldn’t help grabbing onto Peter’s coat pressing his face into the rough fabric briefly before relaxing back against the desk again, though he still gripped the extra fabric. Something to keep him anchored in the fog another point of contact as Peter continued. Every time Jon whimpered Peter would pause just like he had when in Jon’s mouth, until he relaxed again, making slow but steady progress.
“Such a good boy, we can take all the time you need,” The gentleness of the words, even if it was simple platitudes, had tears welling up in Jon’s eyes. Very rarely was he allowed to go at his own pace, to take things slow. Peter stroked his cheek gently wiping the tear that had escaped away, the tender action snapping something inside him coaxing a few soft sobs his chest heaving. He shouldn’t be getting comfort from Peter Lukas of all people, considering his patron, but it’s not like Jon’s emotions were ever rational.
“Elias was right you are cute when you cry,” Peter gripped his scarred hips as he finally slid fully inside, with a groan, as Jon let out a little punched-out moan. He tried to wipe his tears away, but they didn’t stop, slowly dripping down his cheeks. He felt a hand slide behind his back and the whole world tilted as he was pulled upright. Peter easily lifting him as he sat once more in the desk chair, Jon now sat on his lap impaled completely on his cock. Jon had never felt so quite like he was being split open, though the gentle progress meant it was only just barely overwhelming rather than painful. He also chose not to examine the rush of heat he had felt as Peter had lifted him with barely a hint of effort. Sure Jon wasn’t the largest, but he was an adult and Peter hadn’t even seemed to notice his weight, though something must have shown on his face.
“Liked that did you?” The large man asked with a deep chuckle, and Jon hid his face again, with a muttered shut up, trying to sound confident, but he just sounded wrecked. Jon braced himself as Peter’s hands returned to his hips, lifting him up slowly, before lowering him back down in a steady rhythm. Peter’s breath was finally knocked out of its routine, coming a bit faster, though compared to Jon’s wrecked moans he hardly seemed affected. The time stretched on, each thrust perfectly hitting the spot inside him that made him see stars, a slightly muted orgasm rolling through him making him twitch. Peter seemed content to continue at this slow languid pace, despite the slip into over-stimulation on Jon’s part. If Jon could feel anymore shame he might have died of it hearing the wet sounds from where they were connected. As it was all the space in his brain was currently taken up by pleasure, thoughts fucked right out of his head.
“Stealing you is looking more appealing by the minute Archivist. You would make such a good little pet, I could keep you, not on my ship, no I’d leave you at home, keep you locked up till you’re so desperate and lonely for my attention.” Thought more complicated than more and please were not currently under his purview, but some part of his brain did feel a flicker of fear making him clutch onto Peter with a whine. He tightened making Peter actually moan, his pace stuttering then resuming at a faster pace, clearly nearing the end. “Such a lovely little snack waiting for me after months at sea.”
“N-nghh,” Jon tried to protest to grab that little bit of coherency, but instead of eloquence all the resulted with a strangled moan as he came for the third time. Peter seemed to take that as a sign as he finally buried himself as deep as he could go, teeth fastening in Jon’s neck no doubt leaving a mark, that Jon would struggle to hide. Jon could feel Peter twitching inside him coating his insides as he clenched down.
“Well that was fun Archivist,” The sound as Peter slid out of him was filthy as Jon found himself sat back on the desk panting trying to gather his shattered wits. Peter stood tucking himself away, the only evidence on the Captain being his flushed complexion and some slick on his trousers, from what felt like hours ago. His expression was back to amused and absent as the fog rolled in obscuring him as faded away with a cheery, “Be seeing you.”
Jon was left wrecked and alone sitting naked in Elias’s office his clothes a tangled mess on the floor. He knew he was covered in bruises and marks but he couldn’t look down at himself, certain that he might actually have a breakdown if he did so. He should have known how this would end, of course it was all a game to Peter, treat him like he mattered then leave him feeling even more alone. He had probably been delighted when Jon had come to him desperate, a delicious snack offering itself up on a plate. Jon sighed, he knew he needed to get clean, and maybe worry about the whole if he could actually get pregnant thing, but allowing himself to wallow in self pity for a few more minutes would hardly be the end of the world.