#Tim x Martin | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

anysin · 10 months ago

Text

Fic: Stirred Tensions

For the requester who wanted dark!Jon/Martin with Tim/Martin on the side, here is a S2 story in which Jon gets jealous and acts on it. SFW with creepy Jon.

Stirred Tensions

There is a romance happening at the office.

Tim and Martin don't let it disturb their duties, so it takes Jon a while to notice it in the first place. But once he does notice how Tim and Martin always leave the Institute at the same time, together, it's impossible not to notice everything else too. The way their fingers sometimes tangle together when they're close to each other, how Martin has become chattier and laughs more easily, and worst of all, when they start arriving at work at the same time too.

Something is happening between them, and Jon gets his confirmation for the nature of their relationship when he almost catches them kissing in the back of the Archives, Martin's arm slung around Tim's neck, Tim's hand on Martin's hip. They both startle when Jon clears his throat, bouncing back from each other.

"Sorry," Martin mutters, fleeing the place of crime immediately, face all red. Tim shakes his head at that, laughing.

"Great timing, boss," Tim says, but it's good-natured. He even pats Jon on the shoulder when he leaves, heading after Martin.

Jon lingers there for a while, trying to chase the image of Tim's and Martin's mouths almost touching out of his brain. But it lingers, too.

"You wanted to see me, Jon?"

Weirdly enough, Jon appears to be more nervous about their meeting than Martin is, and Martin is plenty of nervous. It takes a moment for Jon to turn around, and he almost looks hesitant for a second before his eyes go stern.

"Sit down," he says. "I need to talk to you."

Martin hides a grimace. Is this about the interrupted kiss, or about the CV? He's not sure which option worries him more, but he sits in the chair anyway, trying to smooth the wrinkles out of his trousers once he's down. They don't go away, but he leaves his hands at his knees, looking up at Jon.

"This will be very awkward," Jon warns, walking over to his desk. He hesitates by his chair before pushing it away, resting one hand on the desk while letting the other fall down to his side. He isn't meeting Martin's eyes. "But well, I saw you and Tim yesterday. And I have noticed that you and Tim have grown quite close."

Martin exhales slowly through his nose. This- well, it had been one of the things he feared Jon would bring up, but he had really hoped it would be low on Jon's list of priorities. He grips his knees, struggling to think of how tactfully to breach the topic.

"We have become close," he admits. "It's nothing that gets in the way of our work though. We have done everything asked of us."

"So far." Jon brings his other hand on the desk too, gripping its edge. "However, that's not what concerns me. Your safety does."

"Jon, what are you talking about?"

But Martin knows. He remembers coming to Jon's office with an offer of tea and the plan to get him out for a while, and finding Jon with photos of Tim's house all over his desk. Jon has been weird lately, observing them all, examining their things when he thinks nobody is looking; Martin remembers his own confrontation with Jon, how angry Jon had been with him. This all has to be part of the same thing and it fills him with concern.

"Do you really think Tim is dangerous?" he asks, frowning at his own careful tone. "You're wrong, you know. I know you don't want to hear it but-"

"It's possible though," Jon interrupts him. "What do you really know about him? Sure, he's very likable and charming, but do you actually know anything about his past, or even what he currently wants from this place? H's a little suspicious."

"I do actually know a lot of things," Martin snaps, curling his fingers up against his thighs. "I mean, I'm the one who spends time with him. What have you done to try to get to know him?"

Jon sighs, somehow managing to make the sound of it drip with condescension, and shakes his head.

"You're not listening," he says.

"You're the one who is not listening," Martin mutters unhappily. He wants to argue on Tim's behalf, but also, in a way, for Jon's; Jon doesn't need to have all these doubts and fears about the people he knows. Something is obviously wrong with him, and Martin wants to help. But he doesn't know how to make Jon listen, and right now he fears he will make it worse if he tries. So he gets up, which makes Jon's eyes go wide.

"We're not done here," Jon starts to say.

"I'm sorry, but I think we are." Martin can't stand the look in Jon's eyes, the weird despair, so he looks away, towards the door. "I can talk to you about work things. My private life is mine."

"I'm just trying to help," Jon whispers.

The worst thing is, Martin is sure that Jon really means that.

"You're not though," he says softly, and starts to leave.

There is nothing Jon wants to do more than to race after Martin, grab him and keep him from leaving. But even if he had the physicality to do that, he feels frozen, just standing there and watching as Martin exits the office and closes the door behind him. Martin does everything gently; a sign that whatever emotional disarray Jon is feeling, Martin doesn't share it.

And Jon is the one who needs to appear rational.

Once Martin is gone, Jon walks over to the chair Martin just sat in, reaching down so he can press hand against its back. It still feels warm from the pressure of Martin's back. Jon keeps his hand there for a while, trying to think of a way he can make Martin understand, see that Tim is potentially dangerous.

And even if Tim isn't- he's not good enough.

The back of the chair has gone cold. Jon pulls his hand away, and wonders how warm Martin will feel like in Tim's hands tonight.

#my fic #the magnus archives #jon x martin #tim x martin

3 notes · View notes

peonysgreenhouse · 2 months ago

Text

-`♡´- silent archives.

summary: mistletoe kisses. (gn!reader x jonathan sims, martin blackwood, tim stoker, sasha james, and elias bouchard + helen/peony)

tags: kissies, fluff, helen distortion x my oc (peony) for funsies :], happy holidays everyone!!! <3

The stairs down to the Archives are narrow, dimly lit; you watch your feet over the stack of manila folders in your hands to make sure you don’t miss a step. You can hear the buzz of the old fluorescents, the clean smell of linen and parchment of the upper floors making way to something less pleasant and dusty; like the smell of a page starting to yellow.

You’re a step behind them, elbows tucked close to your body, trying to avoid the cobwebs woven between the wall and the handrail. No matter how many times you had dusted the place, come morning the webs would be spun anew. Whatever spiders made their homes down here were winning the war of attrition.

You stop when you reach the bottom step, lingering by the entryway to continue your discussion about… something that slips from your mind the moment you look up. Taped clumsily to the top of the entryway, tied with a small red bow is a fistful of mistletoe.

Their gaze follows your own upward, and…

-`♡´- jonathan sims

...And Jon scoffs.

“Tim put this up, I presume?” Jon says dryly, readjusting his glasses. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world but here.

“Dunno. I haven’t seen him today.” You say, adjusting the files in your hands. “Sooo…”

Jon lets out a breath, then rubs at the bridge of his nose, under his glasses. This close, you think you spot a few more greys that weren’t there the last time you saw him. “Tell him to take it down, if you see him. I’d rather not have people… fraternizing in the Archives.”

If he didn’t sound so tired, you might’ve laughed. “Right. But, uh, just so I don’t get cursed, do you mind if I…” You shift the files to one hand, and reach your free hand up to point at your cheek.

“If you really believe such a superstition, I question if this job has affected your discernment.” Jon rubs his hand over his own cheek, as if contemplating. After a moment, he sighs again. “Fine. You can…” He makes a vague gesture, then turns his head closer to your own.

You hesitate for a moment, finding the sight of your boss waiting expectantly almost… cute. You lean over and press a kiss to his cheek; soft lips against rough stubble.

“...You’re ridiculous.” He says, reluctantly fond. For a moment, he looks like he might say something else. Instead, he settles on: “Get back to work.”

-`♡´- martin blackwood

...And Martin’s eyes go as wide as saucers.

“Oh, uh, I wonder who put that there.” Martin coughs into his fist anxiously, then rubs his hands together as if to soothe.

“I wonder.” You say playfully, though you have an idea of who the culprit was.

“We don’t have to… do anything, that is if you don’t want to.” Martin scratches his neck anxiously, playing with the baby hairs on the nape of his neck. The action is almost performative in its cuteness. “It’s just a silly tradition…” He laughs sheepishly.

“And if I want to participate in this silly tradition?” You respond, stepping just a bit closer, the edges of the manila folders in your hands tapping against his chest. “...With you?”

“Oh!” He nearly squeaks out. You don’t ever think you’ve seen him quite so speechless. “Oh, that would… That is to say… I would…” Martin groans, seemingly annoyed at his own inability to speak clearly. Then he leans down, pressing his lips to your temple, a sweet display of affection.

You lean into his lips, almost chasing them as he pulls away. “That was nice. I almost want another.”

“Ah, well, I’d be… happy to provide.” Martin visibly brightens. “Just… Maybe not in the Archives? I’d hate to have Jon walk out, and uh…”

You laugh, picturing Jon’s exasperated expression. He’d probably send Martin away for good if he had to see that. And you as well, for good measure. “Mm, after work then? Maybe we could get drinks?”

“Yes!” He says, over eager, then he adds, “I mean, yes… That sounds lovely.”

-`♡´- tim stoker

...And Tim gets the goofiest grin on his face.

“Well, well…” He wiggles his eyebrows, sounding overly amused with himself. “Look what we have here.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, but you can’t deny his attitude was infectious. “...Really?”

“Don’t give me that look. I certainly didn’t put that up there.” He holds up his hands, the picture of innocence. “But I’m certainly not complaining that I was caught underneath it with my gorgeous co-worker and best friend. Perhaps this is… destiny.”

“You’re so dramatic.” You respond, playfully dry. Still, you can hardly even pretend to be annoyed at him. “C’mere.” You lean up and press a lingering kiss to his cheek. He smells like something clean and floral, and his skin warms underneath your lips.

When you pull back, he touches the spot you just kissed, as if to chase the slowly fading feeling of your lips against his skin. The corners of his eyes crinkle as his smile turns almost sheepish.

“Do I get to return the favor?” He asks, cheekily, his hand brushing against your shoulder as he steps closer, encroaching in on your space. Not that you really mind.

“I’m waiting.” You say, and Tim doesn’t wait a second after getting your permission. He grabs your cheeks in his hand, his lips kissing the side of your mouth with an unnecessarily loud smacking sound. You can’t help but laugh as he pulls back, his hands still cradling your face, unable to look away.

“Maybe one more for good measure, yeah?” His thumb strokes down your cheekbone. “Maybe it’ll make us extra lucky.”

“Excellent idea.” You say, already moving in to kiss him – proper, this time.

-`♡´- sasha james

…And Sasha gasps, playfully scandalized.

“My, my…” She says. “A real predicament we’ve gotten ourselves into, hm?”

The look in her eyes makes you nervous; like she’s expecting something, and she’d hate for you to disappoint her. Or perhaps that’s your own projection – she’s so close, and so beautiful. Your arms tighten around the files you’re holding.

“Seems like it.” You respond, the words more confident than you feel. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to…”

“I’m well aware.” Sasha laughs, and for a moment it looks like she might tease you further. You can feel your cheeks warm. “But lucky for you, I think you look quite adorable right now.”

Sasha moves in closer, and you close the gap, your lips meeting her own. How could you ever forget the gentle way her lips move against yours? Soft, sticky; her lip gloss tastes like peppermint, and it makes your mouth tingle. When you pull back, her hand is covering her mouth as she laughs.

“You have a little…” Her hand comes forward, and wipes her smudged gloss off of your lips. It feels almost as nice as the kiss itself.

-`♡´- elias bouchard

...And Elias looks at you, unreadable as always.

“Ah.” He tuts. “I suppose this was someone’s idea of a prank?”

Just your luck to be the first victim. And just your luck to be caught underneath it with Elias. You pretend to have not noticed, looking up again after he poses his question.

“Oh. That…” You lie, rather lamely. “I’m not sure, I haven’t seen it until now.”

“I see.” He pauses, and you shift your feet, the silence growing uncomfortable as he watches you.

“Would you… like me to take it down?” You ask, moving to make yourself useful. Before you can get too far away, he speaks up.

“No, no. It’s just harmless fun.” He makes a dismissive gesture, and you visibly relax. You don’t want to think about how ridiculous you would look balancing on an office chair trying to take the mistletoe down. “Might… improve morale down here, as it is.”

“I’m surprised you’re alright with it.” You say, giving him a sideways look. “Sounds like a HR problem waiting to happen.”

Elias laughs at that. "I assure you it will be fine.” He pauses, then. “It would only be inappropriate if someone like me initiated, so to speak.” Elias looks down at you, the ghost of a smile on his lips. His words are suggestive, challenging almost. Before you can lose your nerve, you lean over and kiss his cheek.

“So… that’s alright, then?” You ask. The scent of his expensive cologne follows you, even as you pull away.

“Precisely.” Elias says, sounding pleased with himself, pleased with you. "Though, if you'd like a little... reciprocation, I recommend we go back to my office."

You can't find it in you to say no.

-`♡´- helen/peony

Helen is the one holding the little bundle of mistletoe over Peony’s head, a sharp-toothed grin on her face.

“Look what I found, darling.” Helen says, shaking the plant overhead, as if Peony didn’t see her approach with it. It looks comically small in Helen's unnaturally large hands. “This does bring back memories, doesn’t it?”

“Those memories aren’t yours.” Peony corrects, moving past Helen to her desk. When she sets the stack of folders down, Helen is leaning over Peony’s shoulder, boxing her in.

“Spoilsport.” Helen tuts, feigning disappointment that she’s not playing along. “I don’t want to argue semantics with you again. I’m in a good mood, after all.”

Peony turns, looking up at Helen; Helen’s features shift ever so slightly the more she focuses on certain points of the Distortion’s face. Sometimes she looks like the Helen Peony remembers; or perhaps Peony is just searching too hard for something that was never there. Still, she can’t help but look every time.

“Did you come here just for…” Peony motions to the mistletoe, still held out in Helen’s palm.

“Is it so wrong to want some affection from my favorite person?” Helen says, sweet as honey. “I get lonely too, you know.”

It’s so ridiculous Peony almost laughs, like it wasn’t the Distortion’s fault for Peony’s own loneliness.

Still, the Archives were much too quiet nowadays. Peony aches for the familiar comfort of another, and she’ll take it even if it’s from something as cold and inhuman as Helen. Peony’s eyes flick down to Helen’s lips. Yes, they almost looked the same. Would they taste the same as her Helen’s once did?

“...You just want a kiss?” Peony asks, quietly. Helen narrows her eyes, looking far too pleased with herself. Peony can almost hear the sound of metal teeth snapping shut.

“If that’s what you’re willing to give me, darling.” She bends down, her face just above Peony’s. Peony doesn’t give herself any time to think this through, instead moving forward, pushing her lips against Helen’s in a slow, tentative kiss. Peony feels one of Helen's fingers run down her back, sharp, even through layers of clothes, and she shivers.

With Peony's eyes closed, it was easy to pretend that this is a stolen moment of normalcy; for a moment, she's back in her Helen's house, pressed up against her on the couch as they wind down from their long work days.

"...Now, was that so hard?" Helen muses, and Peony's eyes flutter open. Peony touches her lips, feeling her smudged chapstick, and she sighs.

Peony leans in for a second kiss.

62 notes · View notes