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so since my brain won't let me sleep and it's non con jon weekend, i shall discuss my favoured 
aesthetic rape jonelias (somno, noncon)
aesthetic rape jonelias (somno, noncon)
Elias knows that Jon is... hm. skittish. He needs a gentle hand when it comes to sex. He needs to be romanced, needs to be held close and caressed. And Elias is the man for the job, he'll treat his archivist right
jon spends so much time in his little nest of an office, working so hard to satiate his implacable curiosity, stays late, falls asleep at his desk, the poor, neglected thing, he's actually quite lucky elias is there to look after him,
lucky elias is there to care for him, pick him up and carry him up the stairs to his office couch, gently brush stray hairs from his furrowed brow, kiss his slack mouth, help him get comfortable, remove his tie and shoes and belt,
and he thinks for a moment, he can't let his archivist's precious head rest unsupported, so he takes a seat and lets jon's head rest in his lap, plays with his hair, unbuttons his shirt, unhooks his binder. Jon deserves to sleep comfortably.
jon talks in his sleep, murmurs elias' name, that soft mouth made for moaning and screaming, made for elias, really, the sweet thing, and he can't help but push a couple fingers in, press them against his tongue, rub them against his teeth, the roof of his mouth
Of course jon sucks on them; he's so needy, his jon, elias should take better care of him, should do this more often so his dearest archivist isn't so neglected, isn't so touch starved. He worries jon still isn't comfortable, so he pops the button of his trousers,
dips his wet hand down the front of Jon's pants, cups his mound and rubs interrogative fingers across his slit. He's warm, here, not wet, not yet, elias knows his darling needs more stimulation, he's Seen it. He wants jon to feel good, so elias sets about carefully stripping him
He doesn't want to wake him, not yet, jon needs his sleep, so he's gentle, he's careful, he's considerate. He plucks at Jon's perky little nipples, rubs up and down his sides, pets spit-slick fingers over jon's sensitive pearl, making him murmur and moan
And Elias cares about privacy, of course, he won't look in on Jon's dreams, though he can see them on his peripherals, golden-hazed and soft. He leans over his darling, presses sweet kisses across his chest, bites him gently, playfully,
drags two fingers up and down jon's hot little pussy, gathering slick, making jon shiver and whine in his sleep, twitch his thighs wider. And Elias loves him, his sweet archivist, so obedient and needy, always looking for approval and praise, so he gives it,
whispering platitudes into his blushing skin, tracing lines between moles with his tongue, tells him how good he is, tells him how perfect he'll be, when elias has finished painting him in his vision, when they bring the new world order, together
He's gentle, he's patient, he lets his fingers slip in and out as jon can take it, as he grows wetter, as he begins to squirm in his sleep, turns his head into the crook of elias' thigh and moans, breath hot and wet
Eventually, of course, the stimulation is too much, too good, and jon's long eyelashes flutter, he breathes out a confused little moan, nuzzles blearily into elias' trousers, mouths absently at his clothes cock before he catches himself and jolts slightly, clenching around
The intrusion of elias' fingers, mumbles his name in confusion. Sweet thing, elias coos down at him, arranges him gently so they can kiss. And jon, in his addled state, makes another soft noise and kisses back as he can
and he's never asked for it, not outright, but elias can read cues, has seen the way Jon's eyes and thoughts linger on him, the cut of his trousers, the curl of his hair, he's doing jon a favor, and jon, pliant thing, lets himself be arranged
goes, if not eagerly, then easily, letting elias drape him across his lap, tucks his heavy head into the crooks of his neck. Elias pisses the side of his face and neck, gnaws gently behind his ear as he frees himself from his trousers and rubs his cock along jon's slit
Jon is heavy and pliant and his useless hands clench and unclench against elias' back as he finally takes him, holds him by the hips and helps him take it all, moaning into elias' collar and suppressing distressed little whimpers
They've been here before, jon is used to this in some measure, he knows it feels better to be soft for elias, knows elias likes it better when he keeps his tears quiet until Elias wants to hear him moan and cry, clench and push and fight
But today, elias wants to love him, wants to hold him close and grind up into him, rolling his hips and whispering sweet nothings into his ear, gently encouraging jon to fuck himself down, gentling him when he goes too fast, admonishing him softly.
Elias is kind in his violations, he always makes Jon come, sobbing sweet and quiet, shuddering and clenching so hard that elias has to pause and laugh into his ear. Calls him a good boy and angles his hips best he can and thrusts deep so he can bump jon's cervix
Elias always, always comes inside, jon has to know he loves him, jon needs his mark inside and out, needs him wet and hot between his thighs, a reminder of his adoration. Jon really should be greatful elias is so considerate, so loving.
And maybe jon is. He's stopped fighting, he keeps staying late, taking his sleeping pills so he'll fall asleep at his desk, tempting fate, begging for elias' considerable attention. Maybe he really does love this, maybe he loves Elias back. After all, Elias treats him so well.
