#Thirst aid kit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deliciousangelfestival · 9 months

Text

Tears In His Ferrari || Chp 6 - B.Barnes

Character: Bucky Barnes x Farmer!Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes, used to a life of luxury, takes on farm challenges in a bet with his father. Mud-stained Ferraris and a rustic farmhouse lead to unexpected personal growth, guided by the stern mentorship of Y/N, a farmer making his city-boy life difficult.

Theme: Fluff, Slice of Life, Heart-Warming.

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

Chapters: Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3 , Chp 4 , Chp 5 , Chp 6 , Chp 7 , Chp 8 , Chp 9 , Chp 10 , Chp 11 , Chp 12.

Bucky's journey into livestock care proved to be a comedy of errors. The sheep, cows, and chickens seemed to have a personal vendetta against him, kicking and nudging every chance they got.

His struggles became a source of amusement for his viewers, who were entertained by Bucky's hilarious encounters with the farm animals.

As Bucky showcased his farming misadventures in his vlogs and live streams, the comments section flooded with laughter and cheeky remarks from his audience:

Viewer 1: "Bucky vs the Farm Animals: Who will win? Place your bets!"

Viewer 2: "This is better than a sitcom! I'm here for Bucky's farm follies."

Viewer 3: "Next sponsorship: a crash course in animal whispering. You'll need it, Bucky!"

Amid the laughter, Bucky was inundated with sponsorship offers, each attempting to address his newfound occupational hazards.

Brands promoting painkiller sprays, band-aids, and even protective gear wanted to ensure Bucky remained intact despite the kicks and pecks from his feisty farm companions.

In one of his live streams, Bucky showcased the various products, adding his own comedic twist, "Alright, folks, after being kicked in the behind more times than I can count, our sponsors have come to the rescue! Say hello to the 'Bucky Farm Survival Kit.' Got a kick? Spray some pain relief, slap on a band-aid, and you're good to go. Now, let's see if these things work..."

As Bucky delved into the world of milking cows, he found himself facing a task more challenging than he anticipated. Sweat dripped down his face, and the effort required to extract milk from the cow left him visibly exhausted. Unbeknownst to him, in the midst of the struggle, Bucky instinctively pulled his shirt to wipe away the accumulating sweat from his neck.

Little did Bucky know, this unintentional move caused a momentary frenzy among his viewers. As his t-shirt hitched up, revealing a glimpse of his well-defined six-pack, comments flooded the chat:

Viewer 1: "Who knew farming could be so steamy? 🌾😍"

Viewer 2: "Forget the cows, I'm here for Bucky's abs workout!"

Viewer 3: "The real milk we're getting is from Bucky's six-pack. Thank you, cows!"

While Bucky grappled with the intricacies of milking, his viewers seemed more interested in the unexpected display of his physique.

Y/N strolled into the scene, her expression nonchalant as she addressed Bucky who was in the midst of his live stream. "You need to check if the cow is comfortable, Bucky. Happy cows produce better milk."

Bucky, still catching his breath from the milking endeavor, nodded in agreement. However, his enthusiasm dimmed when Y/N's gaze fell upon his unintentionally exposed six-pack. Expecting a compliment, Bucky was taken aback when Y/N's response was far from what he anticipated.

"Put on sunscreen if you want to be shirtless," she remarked with an unimpressed tone and a cold expression that sent ripples of laughter through the live chat.

Viewer 1: "Y/N with the reality check! 😂"

Viewer 2: "She just killed the vibe. Well played, Y/N!"

Viewer 3: "Note to self: Farming is not an excuse to skip sunscreen. Thanks, Y/N!"

Viewer 4: "Y/N just ended Bucky's shirtless saga. RIP six-pack dreams."

Viewer 5: "I guess farming isn't a thirst trap after all. 😂"

The unexpected interaction with Y/N added an amusing twist to Bucky's livestream, making his farming escapades even more entertaining for his audience.

The guy who taught Bucky chuckled, noticing Y/N's departure and Bucky's surprised reaction. "Looks like she has a sense of humor after all. You're in for some fun times here."

Bucky, still amused by Y/N's unexpected laughter, grinned. "I guess so. I'll keep that in mind."

As the guy continued with the instructions, he suggested, "You know, it might be easier to handle the cows and lambs if you use a horse. Y/N's got a good one. You can ride, right?"

Bucky, eager for a new experience, nodded confidently. "Absolutely. I'll give it a try."

Eager to try something new, Bucky followed Samantha's directions to the horse barn. There, he found Y/N taking care of the horses. Samantha greeted him warmly, "Oh, you're here for the horse. Y/N is just around the corner."

Samantha looked like she was preparing to leave, gathering a few things. Bucky, ever the polite guest, asked, "Are you heading out?"

Samantha nodded, "Yes, just a quick trip to the market. If you need anything, feel free to ask Y/N. She knows her way around here."

Bucky smiled appreciatively, "Thanks, Samantha. Have a good trip to the market."

Y/N, engrossed in her task, Y/N seemed in harmony with the magnificent creature before her. Her rhythmic patting and soft whispers with the horse showcased a deep bond.

As Bucky approached, he marveled at the scene, captivated by the tranquility surrounding Y/N and the majestic white horse.

The horse, bathed in the soft glow of the barn's interior, stood tall and regal, its coat a pristine shade of white that gleamed even in the dim light. The gentle sway of its mane complemented its graceful stature, creating an image of elegance and strength.

Taking a moment to absorb the beauty of the horse, Bucky greeted Y/N. "Hey, hope I'm not interrupting anything. I heard you have a horse that could help me with the cows and lambs?"

Y/N turned with a friendly smile, "Not at all. This is Snowflake. She's a gentle one. Want to give it a try?"

Bucky eyed the majestic Snowflake, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "Sure, I've ridden horses before. It's been a while, though."

Y/N handed Bucky a worn but well-maintained saddle. "Snowflake is quite patient. Take your time, and don't worry. She'll sense if you're uneasy."

With Y/N's guidance, Bucky carefully saddled up Snowflake, adjusting the stirrups to his comfort. As he mounted the horse, he couldn't help but admire the view from this elevated perspective.

Y/N offered some advice, "Hold the reins gently and guide her with your knees. She's responsive, so you should be fine."

Bucky nodded, ready to explore the farm from a different vantage point. Sensing Bucky's intent, Snowflake shifted slightly beneath him, a subtle indication of their newfound partnership.

Y/N shared a tidbit about Snowflake, "My father gave her the name Snowflake. But you could change it if you want."

Bucky pondered for a moment, observing the horse's reaction. "Alpine?"

Snowflake, seemingly content with the proposed change, responded positively.

Y/N grinned, "Seems like she likes it."

Bucky chuckled, "I could change her name? You make it sound like this horse is mine."

Y/N teased, "She's yours. I'll just add it to your bill."

Bucky playfully rolled his eyes, "Thanks." Then he asked,"Your mom seems like she's going to leave."

Y/N paused for a moment before responding, "Ah, it's today."

"Today?" Bucky questioned.

Y/N explained, "You've never been to the market, right? Let's go."

Arriving at the market, Bucky was taken aback by the lively ambiance. The bustle of people, the colorful displays, and the rich aroma of fresh produce filled the air.

Amidst the crowd, the distinct sound of laughter reached Bucky's ears, and he spotted several middle-aged women, including Y/N's mother, engaged in cheerful conversation. The lively market presented a new facet of the rural life Bucky was gradually becoming a part of.

Amused by the scene unfolding in the market, Bucky couldn't help but be curious. "Why are the moms standing there?"

Y/N, wearing a sly smile, replied, "Just watch."

A sharp 'PIIIP' of a whistle cut through the air, drawing everyone's attention. In what seemed like slow motion, a muscular man with long blond hair emerged, effortlessly carrying a sizable salmon on one shoulder and a box of shrimp on the other hand. Y/N leaned toward Bucky, offering an introduction, "His name is Thor, a fisherman, and also a fireman. And today, is Thor's Day."

Thor, the charismatic figure of the market, greeted his customers with a charming smile, "Ladies."

The moms erupted in cheers, expressing their excitement. Bucky watched as one exclaimed, "I'll buy the salmon today."

One mom exclaimed, "Did you see the way he carried that fish? Like a Greek god!"

A more enthusiastic mom shouted, "Move over, salmon! Thor is the real catch of the day!"

Observing Thor's presence, Bucky couldn't help but feel dwarfed. His usual charms seemed to pale in comparison to the charismatic fisherman.

Thor, spotting Y/N, enthusiastically raised his hand, "Y/N, my friend!"

Y/N nodded in acknowledgment and pulled Bucky along, explaining, "Let's go. Thor is a friendly man."

As they walked away, Bucky couldn't help but notice Y/N's lipstick and blush. It seemed Thor had a fan in her too, adding a humorous touch to the unexpected encounter at the market.

Y/N, with a playful smile, introduced Bucky to Thor, the charismatic fisherman-fireman who had captured the hearts of the local moms.

"Thor, meet Bucky. Bucky, meet Thor," Y/N said, savoring the amused expression on Bucky's face.

Thor extended his arms in a grand gesture, welcoming Bucky with an engulfing hug. The warmth of the embrace only served to emphasize the considerable size difference between the two men, leaving Bucky momentarily stunned and playfully deflating his pride.

Thor chuckled heartily, "Welcome to the neighborhood, Bucky! If you ever need a hand with anything, just let me know. We're all like a big family here."

Bucky, regaining his composure, managed a nod and a grateful smile. "Thanks, Thor. I appreciate it. And, uh, nice fish!"

Thor's eyes twinkled with amusement, "Ah, the mighty salmon! She's a beauty, isn't she? Catch of the day!"

Regaining his composure, Bucky responded with a half-smile, "Well, it's not as glamorous as hauling in a big catch like you, Thor."

Thor chuckled, "Ah, but every venture has its charm. Farming, fishing, it's all part of the tapestry of life. By the way, how's the farm treating you?"

Bucky, appreciating Thor's friendly demeanor, shared a brief overview of his farming journey, making light of his encounters with livestock and the challenges he faced.

Thor listened attentively, offering encouragement and a few lighthearted anecdotes from his experiences.

Thor clapped Bucky on the back, "Farming, huh? That's a hearty job. You gotta be tough as a bull to handle it. But trust me, it's rewarding. I've got a small garden myself. Tomatoes and peppers, you know. Adds a bit of spice to life!"

Bucky nodded, appreciating the friendly advice. "Yeah, I'm still figuring things out. But it's good to know there are people like you around."

Thor beamed, "Absolutely! We look out for each other here. If you ever need fresh fish or some veggies to spruce up your meals, just give me a holler. And if you're up for it, we should get together for a workout. Gotta keep the body in top shape!"

Bucky chuckled, glancing at Thor's impressive physique, "Yeah, that sounds like a plan. I could use some tips on how to be as... robust as you."

Thor roared with laughter, "Robust, eh? I like that! Anytime you're ready, my friend. We'll turn you into a farming god in no time!"

Bucky, still riding the high of his positive day, received a call from his best friend, Steve Rogers. The cheerful tone of Steve's voice was infectious, and he quickly inquired about Bucky's new life in the countryside.

"Hey, Buck! How's farm life treating you?" Steve's voice echoed through the phone.

Bucky shared the highlights of his day, from learning to tend livestock to meeting Thor and experiencing the lively market. However, Steve's next revelation dropped like a bombshell.

"Oh, by the way," Steve casually added, "you remember Kate, right? The supermodel Kate? Well, she's been on a mission to find you. And guess what? She knows where you are, and she's heading your way!"

Bucky's heart skipped a beat, and panic set in. "Wait, what? Why is she looking for me? I'm not prepared for this! Steve, what do I do? I can't meet Kate like this!"

After thoroughly enjoying Bucky's flustered reaction, Steve teased, "Guess you made quite an impression, pal. Brace yourself for some Hollywood glamour in the countryside!"

The call ended with Steve's laughter ringing in Bucky's ears. He raced about Kate's expectations, wondering if he appeared presentable in his worn-out farm clothes.

Bucky took a glance at the mirror, questioning his choice of attire for the day. The smell of the countryside, mingled with the scent of animals and sweat, suddenly became more noticeable, and Bucky couldn't shake the feeling of inadequacy.

As he anxiously awaited Kate's arrival, Bucky couldn't help but wonder how this unexpected visit might alter the course of his newly adopted farm life.

Author Note:

Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account. Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating. Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

Join the taglist? 🩷💙🩷

@bagoffeelings

@darkofimagination

@starsofcloud

@cherrybubblebullet

@winterslove1917

@thezombieprostitute

@namoreno

@sagebarness

@tenaciousathleteoperatorgarden

@unaxv

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@hopeful-daydreaming

@freshlemontea

@eat-limes-bitches

@kandis-mom

@scott-loki-barnes

@winters1917

@differenttyphoonwerewolf

@arunabraganza

@ordelixx

@jackiehollanderr

@regics

Hey everyone! 🌟 Your input means the world to me.

If you've got any cool ideas or prompts, whether for this fluff series or any other series, feel free to share them with me!

Just drop them in my ASK/SEND REQUEST box.

Can't wait to hear your awesome suggestions! 🚀💬

130 notes · View notes

fanhackers · 3 months

Text

On Thirsty Audiences

Dramatic literature and theatre is my first field: though I was a fan before I was anything else, I wasn’t a fan studies scholar till later in my career. But, like many academics, my interest in the subjects I’ve studied borders on fannish interest, and so theatre is one of my fandoms.

Kirsty Sedgwick is a major figure in audience studies, and she’s recently crossed over from academia into more general public intellectual spaces with her latest book, On Being Unreasonable: Breaking the Rules and Making Things Better (Faber & Faber, 2023.) There’s always been an overlap between fan studies and audience studies, and Sedgwick is a scholar of theatre audiences. Her work frequently questions the rules (explicit and implicit) of being an audience member and asks who those rules exclude: for instance, mothers with small children. In her 2018 book, The Reasonable Audience: Theatre Etiquette, Behaviour Policing, and the Live Performance Experience, Sedwick talks about the ways in which behavior standards can be sexist, racist, ableist, and otherwise exclusionary of the very diversity of audience members that theatre-makers claim that they want to attract.

I thought that I would highlight a different essay from Sedgwick’s oeuvre: 2018’s “How can we talk about ‘thirst’ in theatre?” written for Exeunt magazine. In it, Sedgwick talks about the ways in which women are seen to enjoy theatre for the “wrong” reasons, stinking up lobbies with their love of Benedict Cumberbatch or Hugh Jackman or Tom Hiddleston or Kit Harrington. Sedgwick describes how “the fear of female audiences reached its peak recently in the handsome-celebrities-onstage trend – like when the theatresphere nervously anticipated how swarms of Benedict Cumberbatch fans might ruin the star’s 2015 Hamlet with their tardiness and addiction to instagram, or when Tom Hiddleston’s fans were criticized for “colonizing the pavement” after Coriolanus. Sedgwick argues that “the real mystery is how theatres have been able to get away for so long with using the desires of girls to fill their seats while simultaneously shaming them for it.“

Sedgwick also argues that not all forms of thirst are equal, and that while male thirst can be dangerous because of how it keeps women down, “female thirst almost always operates to build men up.” In particular, she cites the ways in which fans work to “give underappreciated actors of colour the attention they deserve.” She quotes Bim Adewunmi and Nichole Perkins of the Thirst Aid Kit podcast talking about John Cho. The podcasters explain that:

“every time we saw him, we’d say, ‘Oh my gosh, he’s so amazing, he’s so hot.’ We really wanted to give him some shine. We see you–not just because you’re beautiful, but because we see what you’re doing on and off screen, and we want to amplify that.”

Sedgwick concludes that “If male thirst simplifies women to bits of flesh, then female thirst tends to be all about fleshing out the person inside,” and concludes that thirst can be radical. The whole article is worth a read, as is much of Sedgwick’s other work.

–Francesca Coppa, Fanhackers volunteer

#author:francescacoppa #theatre fandom #thirst #BSOs #here we go again: women #doing it for the wrong reasons #interrogating the text from the wrong perspective #same old same old

50 notes · View notes

sleepynegress · 6 months

Text

youtube

Not me just remembering that Charlie Cox was on the Thirst Aid Kit, way back in 2018, which means he knows about fandom imaginings and was very cool about the female gaze of desire in media...

BONUS: in-studio footage from TikTok. https://www.tiktok.com/@nici.murdock/video/7249798473107705115

#...does he talk to his friends???#I really think many celebs play ignorant #anyway have your dose of serotonin for your sunday #i miss this podcast so much #the thirst aid kit #just learned almost all the original daredevil cast is returning and I'm in full ted lasso celebratory running man mode #charlie cox #a sweetheart #every actor who appeared on this show is a real one #when celebrity and fandom intersect #daredevil #Youtube

12 notes · View notes

acestyx · 2 years

Text

Eddie took a deep breath and clasped his hands together, leg bouncing wildly underneath his elbow. Anxiety and hunger panged deep his stomach, making him press his knuckles to his lips.

Steve entered the room, carrying a First-Aid kit and a glass of apple juice.

He set them down on the coffee table and sat next to Eddie, placing his hand lightly on top of the other’s forearm. “Hey,” Eddie tensed under the touch, Steve’s fingers feeling like hot brands on his skin. “Look at me.”

Eddie lifted his head to meet Steve’s eyes and part of him wished he didn’t. Eddie could tell Steve was trying his darndest to look calm, eyebrows turned up with a soft half-smile. But nothing really gives a person away as much as a heartbeat.

The usual ‘th-thump ’ had quickened significantly, now resembling more of a nervous flutter. Steve gave his arm a reassuring squeeze, and Eddie felt his pulse thrumming rapidly in his veins. “You ready?”

The bouncing of Eddie’s knee has slowed down a bit, but nerves still ate at him. “You really don’t need to do this man, seriously.” He scooted away from Steve a little as to distance himself from the skittish rhythm taunting him. “It’s not that bad, I can—“

A long growl emitted from Eddie’s abdomen, causing him to wince and double over.

Steve grabbed Eddie’s shoulder, leaning down so he was level with him. “Eddie, it’s been like what, a week? I don’t know how this shit works but that’s way too long, even for normal food.”

Steve was right. A normal person would be famished after a week without food. The weird thing though was that Eddie had eaten regular food. He literally had a sandwich a little less than an hour ago. But this was different. It was like his normal hunger and his blood-thirst were two entirely separate entities.

Eddie pressed his palms into his eyes. “I know, I know I’m just—“ He inhaled deeply and instantly regretted doing so. The smell of Steve’s blood filled his lungs, making the room spin and his stomach cramp.

Eddie wet his lips, trying to coax words out of his mouth. “What if I take too much?”

“Well, that’s what the juice is for.” Steve chuckled, picking up the glass and shaking it gingerly.

“Steve, I’m serious.” Eddie snapped to look at Steve, voice breaking in his throat. “What if I hurt you? Like for real?” The mere thought terrified him. Not being in control of himself, lost to whatever demonic shit the Upside Down did to him.

He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he ended up seriously injuring Steve, or worse. He felt himself start to hyperventilate. “What if I—”

“Hey hey, listen ,” Steve turned his whole body so that he was facing Eddie. He set the glass down and placed the hand on Eddie’s other shoulder, rotating Eddie towards him and looking him dead in the eyes.

“I trust you.” His eyes were warm and the beat of his heart, although still fast and jittery, didn’t fluctuate. He was telling the truth. “Okay?”

Eddie closed his eyes and took a moment to steady his breathing. “Okay.”

He scooched closer into Steve’s space, maneuvering himself so that although he wasn’t completely in Steve’s lap, their legs were overlapping.

“If you uh—feel like you’re gonna pass out or anything, don’t hesitate to knee me in the balls, ‘kay?” Eddie joked, trying to lighten the mood and settle his own nerves. It must’ve worked because he felt Steve’s shoulders shake underneath him, a quiet laugh escaping his mouth. “Got it.”

Eddie pressed two fingers firm into Steve’s neck and slid them around a little, trying to find a tender spot that wouldn’t hurt too bad. He ran his tongue over his canines, which were starting to ache.

Each movement caused a jolt in Steve’s pulse, which Eddie could both hear and feel in tandem. “Are you nervous?”

“Eh, not really.” Steve’s heart rate jumped. Lie.

“S’just like getting blood drawn, right? No biggie.” Another lie.

Eddie chuckled lowly as he felt Steve swallow under his fingers. Steve’s brow furrowed. “What’s funny?” He breathed as Eddie drew closer to his neck.

“Your heart.” He felt animalistic in the moment, Steve squirming under him like some sort of prey. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t excite him a little. “It’s kinda telling on you, man.”

Steve stiffened a little, chest rising and falling a little faster than before. “My heart?”

“Mhm.” Eddie couldn’t hold back a smirk as he slowly dragged his fingers from the side of Steve’s neck all the way down to the middle of his chest. Eddie felt Steve’s breath hitch, loud thumps hammering against his fingertips. “Normally…”

Eddie tapped a steady rhythm onto Steve’s chest, mimicking a heartbeat. “It’s like this.”

“But now…” Eddie quickened the pace of his tapping to match the tempo of Steve’s racing heart. He looked back up and raised an eyebrow.

Steve flexed his jaw, a blush creeping up his neck. “You can hear that?”

Eddie opened his mouth to reply, only to immediately be hit with the overwhelming scent of Steve’s blood.

Seeing Steve all red and flustered would’ve been way more amusing if the blood pumping underneath his skin wasn’t so tantalizing.

Heart palpitating, lips soft-looking, face hot and flushed, it was driving Eddie insane. Steve looked absolutely delectable .

It took every muscle in Eddie’s body to not tear into him right then and there. A low whine sounded involuntary in the back of his throat.

“Eddie?” Steve said almost in a whisper, briefly snapping Eddie out of his bloodlust.

Eddie licked his lips and leaned closer, mouth visibly salivating. “Can…I…?” He rasped, doing everything in his power to hold himself back.

Steve blinked. “ Oh. Yeah yeah, um—whenever you‘re ready.”

Eddie opened his mouth, teeth grazing a taut spot on Steve’s neck. He felt Steve flinch, heart still slamming rhythmically against the fingers pressed into his chest.

“Hm-mh?” Eddie hummed, asking for a final grant of permission.

Steve squeezed his eyes shut and Eddie felt him brace.

“Do it.”

Eddie forced his jaw down, sharp fangs sinking into freckled skin.

Steve bit back a groan, chest heaving as Eddie placed his lips flush against the wound, lapping up the blood rapidly flowing out of it.

Eddie’s eyes widened and he breathed out a moan as sugary copper splashed onto his tongue.

“It’s sweet…” Eddie thought as he continued to drink from the puncture. His hand snaked from Steve’s chest all the way up to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling so his neck was at a better angle.

“Fuck.” Steve choked out before clapping a hand over his mouth, muffling any other noises that threatened to escape him.

Eddie barely heard him, the whole experience overwhelming his senses.

Steve’s blood tasted like nectar on his tongue, metallic but leaving a sweet aftertaste that he just couldn’t get enough of. Warmth spread throughout his body, sending a wave of shivers up his own spine.

Steve’s heart was still going crazy, throbbing loudly against his ribs and in Eddie’s ears. His breathing has slowed a bit, but the breaths were still shallow.

A trail of blood dripped down Steve’s neck, pooling in the curve of his collarbone and staining his shirt.

Eddie wasted none of it, dipping down and licking along the small divot.

“Jesus, E-Eddie…” Steve shuddered. “Slow down—s’not going anywhere.”

Eddie grumbled a response into the crook of his neck, immediately feeling goosebumps rise against his lips.

The fog in his head cleared enough to notice Steve shift uncomfortably in the seat. A quiet whimper left his mouth, catching Eddie a bit off guard.

Right. Eddie thought. This probably hurts like hell.

The hand that gripped Steve’s hair loosened, instead gently carding through the strands to try and bring the man some sort of comfort.

Eddie felt Steve go limp against him, melting into the touch. His furrowed expression softened as he let out a sigh.

Steve tensed again as Eddie went back to the wound, but quickly relaxed, shoulders drooping down slightly.

He pulled away from Steve, licking some of the mess off his mouth and examining the bite.

The bleeding had stopped mostly, but the skin around it was red and quickly bruising.

“Shit.” Eddie mumbled, slowly coming off his high. Steve turned his head, wincing slightly. “You done?”

Eddie swallowed. “I—I think so.” Steve’s face was starting to pale but he gave Eddie a wobbly smile.

“Good.” He sighed, dropping his head onto the back of the couch. “The room was starting to spin a little.”

Eddie backed away slightly and his eyes skimmed over Steve’s skin, taking notice of the fading scar around the middle of his neck. A sudden wave of guilt washed over him and he averted his gaze.

“How d’you feel now?” Steve asked, trying to restrict any neck movement.

Eddie smiled apologetically. “I should be asking you.” Admittedly, he felt amazing , better than he had in a long time. Steve, however, looked like he was about to pass out.

Eddie reached over and grabbed the glass of juice, handing it over to Steve. Eddie watched him take small sips, face scrunching in pain every once in a while.

Eddie’s brows furrowed upwards. “Does it hurt to drink?” Steve hummed into the glass before setting it down. “A little.”

Another wave of guilt passed through Eddie as he grabbed the medkit. He unzipped it, pulling out some rubbing alcohol, a few cotton balls, and a gauze pad.

He poured the alcohol onto the cotton and turned to Steve, holding it up to the bite. “This is gonna hurt like a bitch, sorry.”

Eddie pressed the soaked cotton into the wound, wincing sympathetically as Steve writhed, sucking air through his teeth. “FUCK, that stings.”

“Told you.” Eddie huffed, continuing to disinfect the bite.

Eventually the stinging subsided, as Steve took a breath and relaxed back into the couch. Eddie gently dabbed the wound, taking extra care to not irritate it any further.

Eddie’s fingers accidentally grazed Steve’s jaw, and his eyebrows knitted together when Steve’s heart rate jumped. Huh?

Eddie paused for a brief moment. Steve’s pulse had been fluctuating ever since he walked into the room, but Eddie assumed it was nerves. After all, the situation wasn’t exactly calming.

But Eddie was done, “back to normal.” There was no reason for Steve to be nervous. So why—

Before he could rationalize that thought, something else caught his eye. Something he couldn’t believe. His eyes flew open, mouth gaping. “Holy shit.”

Steve looked over to Eddie, worry crinkling his brow when he saw Eddie’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Th—the bite…” Eddie stammered, eyes still trained on Steve’s neck. “It’s healing. Like really fast.”

Sure enough, the two punctures Eddie had made in Steve’s neck had begun to close up. It was subtle but certain, as the bite marks were now the size of some of his moles.

Steve’s eyes bugged as his hand flew to his neck. “What?” By the time Steve’s hand reached his neck, the bite was practically non-existent.

He felt around a bit, fingers smoothing over unscathed skin. He laughed incredulously. “That’s so trippy.”

Eddie’s eyes were still wide as saucers. “Trippy? I know you’re used to this shit but your nonchalant-ness is kinda freakin’ me out.”

Steve pressed down on his skin before wincing and pulling his hand back. “Still super sore, though.”

Eddie nodded, grabbing the gauze pad. “Yeah, a lot of the bruising’s still there.” He peeled off the backing and stuck it to Steve’s neck. “The kids’ll probably ask what happened, nosy lil’ shits.”

Eddie heard Steve’s heartbeat quicken as a smirk dawned his face. “That’s ok. I can just tell em’ I got a killer hickey.”

Eddie’s face roared with heat and he kicked Steve’s shin, flushing more when he burst into laughter.

“If you say that to anyone, I’m killing you next time.”

Steve’s eyebrow raised. “Next time?”

Eddie blinked, trying to recover his fumble. “I—I mean obviously you don’t have to, especially because it probably felt awful—”

“Eddie.” Steve tried to interject.

“Actually, I don’t know why you’d even want to, that was a stupid—”

“Eddie.” Steve put both of his hands on Eddie’s shoulders. Eddie’s mouth snapped shut, looking up into Steve’s soft eyes.

“I’d like that.”

Eddie hoped his face didn’t look as dumbfounded as it felt. “You would?”

Steve shrugged, but Eddie didn’t miss how his pulse jumped. “Well, we know the bites heal fast, so it wouldn’t be obvious to anyone else. Plus, you need blood, and we really don’t need another Mews incident.”

Eddie’s brow pinched. “Mews incident?”

Steve waved dismissively. “Long story.”

“And uh—” Steve shifted again, and Eddie heard his heart begin to thud hard in his chest.

“I didn’t mind it.” He murmured, face reddening. “The y’know—blood-sucking. Thing.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, face most definitely matching Steve’s complexion. “You didn’t—oh .”

Steve’s cheeks flushed even more. “I mean, not like it didn’t hurt or anything, it did, it definitely did. But…I don’t know, it also felt—kinda nice?”

“….Hm.” Eddie hummed, not sure what else to really say.

They both sat in silence for a bit, before Eddie nudged Steve with his elbow, a grin shadowing his face. “So…masochism, huh?”

Eddie snickered when Steve hit his arm, not hard enough to actually hurt him, but hard enough to where he could feel the exact spot the punch landed. “You’re proving my point.” Eddie chuckled.

“You’re a dick” Steve huffed. “But uh—”

Steve leaned into Eddie’s space, smirk widening as the distance between them shrank. “You can suck from me any time.”

Eddie faked a gag, pushing Steve away from him and into the cushion. A hot flush crept quickly up his neck. “ Never say that again.”

Steve sat up, biting back a smile but failing miserably. “My offer still stands.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, painfully aware of how fond he looked. “Thanks.”

Steve looked at Eddie with an expression that softened him from the inside-out. Eddie heard his pulse jump, eyebrows furrowing in contemplation. He glanced briefly at Eddie’s lips, making him wonder if there was still some blood on his mouth.

Steve opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by his stomach, which grumbled loudly.

He blinked and looked up at Eddie. “I guess all that blood-loss worked up my appetite.” He smiled. “Wanna get some real food?”

Eddie rummaged around in his jacket pocket and pulled out a crumpled slip of paper. “I have a 5-dollar coupon for Surfer Boy.”

Steve takes the coupon from him, fingers brushing and sending electricity through his body. He held it up, shaking it gently in the air.

“Surfer Boy it is.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #kas eddie munson #vampire eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie fanfic

499 notes · View notes

hetaczechia · 1 month

Text

Castiel: *appears*

Dean: anyone have a thirst aid kit?

#supernatural #spn #castiel #castiel spn #dean winchester #destiel #incorrect quotes #incorrect supernatural quotes #incorrect spn quotes

32 notes · View notes

ladytauria · 8 months

Text

to celebrate hitting 50k i'm sharing a snippet of the longfic i'm currently working on <3 (thank you v much to both @deepwithintheabyss and @paprikadotmp4 for the encouragement & brainstorming help <3)

still untitled (i've been calling it the "aob dubcon fic" lmao) but i have written a summary:

Jason tries to sell off his first heat to make ends meet for the upcoming winter. When he’s taken by traffickers instead, he’s sure that’s the end of him—until he’s rescued by a mysterious alpha. That “rescue” comes with a price: Jason’s heat hits shortly after, and… one thing leads to another, and now Jason and Tim are bound together by a fledgling mate bond. It’s not the first time Jason’s had to make the best of things, but… he finds it a little bit easier this time, especially as he grows to genuinely like Tim. Unfortunately, just as they're starting to settle into mated life, Tim’s ex-pack starts getting involved, and they don’t exactly approve of Tim’s choice in mate—never mind that it wasn’t really a choice at all.

cws/tags for this snippet: reverse robins, aob dynamics, underage jason (15), first aid, medical inaccuracies (probably; i'm not a doctor, so i'm warning to be safe), hurt/comfort, touch starvation, anxiety, allusions to captivity related ptsd, self-deprecation, brief memories of non-consensual touching

editing to add: this snippet takes place in the 2nd half of chapter 2 <3 (& was originally the second scene for the fic lol)

i have also previously shared a snippet of the scene after this, when jason's heat hits, here.

Tim parks outside of an old apartment building. The brick facade is worn, cracked and peeling in places. Most of the windows are intact at least, though; two of them have lights on, the rest dark.

Tim gets out first, already having rounded the car by the time Jason is swinging his legs out. His hand rests on the door, waiting patiently for Jason to join him on the sidewalk. Then he shuts it. One hand rests on Jason’s back again, a gentle guide inside.

There’s a man at the desk near the front entrance, reading a newspaper. He spares them a brief, bored glance before going back to it.

There’s an out of order sign on the elevator, so they have to take the stairs. It’s just two flights, but by the end, Jason’s slightly out of breath. He’d thought he was in pretty good shape, but—

He guesses spending nearly a week in a small, windowless room hasn’t done him any favors.

Tim stops at a door in the middle of the hall, unlocking it and letting Jason go in first. The main room is all one room; living room transitioning to kitchen, separated by an island counter. Tim guides Jason to the couch, directing him to sit while he gets the first aid kit.

The couch is worn but comfortable, cushions sinking under Jason’s weight, cradling him.

Tim disappears down the hall, and returns a few moments later holding the biggest first aid kit Jason has ever seen. Not that he’s really an expert on the things, but— The one at his house was pretty small.

And mostly empty, honestly.

The coffee table looks comically small under it. It makes Jason’s belly flip with nerves, remembering the feeling of latex covered hands on his body, spreading him open.

He bites his lip.

Tim doesn’t open it, though; instead, he slips into the kitchen. He comes back a moment later, holding a bottle of purple Gatorade. Then, he kneels in front of Jason. It’s—odd. Having an alpha kneel in front of him, voluntarily. Even though Jason knows he doesn’t exactly have any power here, the visual dissonance is—

Odd.

He offers up the bottle. It takes a moment for Jason’s hands to move, but he does take it. His fingers fumble with the cap; he flushed, embarrassed despite himself, but gets it open.

As soon as it touches his lips, his thirst hits him full force. He allows himself two large gulps to wet his throat, and then forces himself to slow down, sipping instead.

When he screws the cap back on, he finds Tim still there. Waiting. He twists his hands around the plastic nervously.

“Alright,” Tim says gently. “Other than the bruise on your side, and the rope burns… are you injured?”

Jason shakes his head, twisting the sleeves of the alpha’s jacket. “Nn-nn. Just some bruises,” he says softly. He pauses. “And, um. I did hit my head once. It still hurts, but— I’m not, like, dizzy or nothin’.”

Tim nods. “Alright,” he says. “I’d like to do a head injury evaluation anyway. I’ll just feel over your skull, and then use a penlight to evaluate your pupil dilation. I’ve got cream for the rope burns, and for the bruise—” Tim hesitates a moment, then continues, “I’ll need to check and make sure nothing is cracked, and there’s no internal bruising.” He pauses again. “As long as there’s nothing serious anywhere else… I have some painkillers you can take, when we eat.”

Jason takes a moment to absorb all of that, and then nods, tipping his head forward obediently.

There’s a part of him screaming at himself not to be so compliant. To kick and claw and scratch and bite and fight, the way he has been for the past week. But he’s— He’s so tired, and sore, and—

The alpha smells so good, and— The smiles he keeps giving Jason melt something inside of him. He wants to keep seeing them. Keep earning them.

Tomorrow that might scare him.

Tonight—

His eyes fall closed when Tim’s fingers slide into his curls. The touch is achingly gentle. It feels— It feels good. Nice. Jason can’t help but lean into it. He thinks Tim’s hands linger a little longer than they need to, like he’s indulging Jason’s obvious enjoyment of the touch.

He does pull away eventually. Jason bites back his whine, instead sitting back up against the cushions.

“No bumps,” Tim murmurs. He gets out the penlight next, and cups Jason’s face as he shines a light first in one eye, and then the other. Jason grimaces, hissing a little as he squints. The light aggravates his aching head. “Pupil dilation is normal.” He pockets the light, and strokes Jason’s cheek with his thumb before he pulls away. “Now, I need to check your bruises.”

Jason bites his lip again. The constant worrying is starting to make the top layer of skin break and flake under his teeth. He averts his eyes, rolling the sleeves of the suit jacket up, exposing his hands. Then he pulls his shirt up, bunching it up just beneath his breasts.

His stomach jumps when Tim touches him. Tim pauses, hand hesitating, just barely touching Jason’s skin, and then— He starts to rumble, low and deep.

Jason whines. He doesn’t mean to—but it bursts from him; he can’t stop it, can’t muffle it. It’s a soft, helpless little keen, and the alpha’s rumble gets louder in response. He scoots closer, until he’s between Jason’s knees. His hand settles onto Jason’s skin, curving around his side. His other hand comes to cup Jason’s shoulder, thumb rubbing gentle circles through his clothes.

“It’s alright,” he soothes, the rumble deepening his voice. The sound—

Jason has only vague memories of his father rumbling for him, from when he was much, much smaller. Before working as a henchman had stolen much of his father’s good will. Other than that, Jason has only ever heard alphas rumble on TV. It’s—

It’s a really nice sound.

Against his will, tears fill his eyes, and he raises his hand, pressing his palm over one, like he can force them back inside. Tim’s hand settles against his side, just underneath the bruising. “You’re alright,” the alpha murmurs. “It’s okay to cry, pup.”

Jason sniffs, loud in the quiet. “I—I—”

“Shh, puppy.” Tim’s hand doesn’t leave Jason as he rises, slipping onto the couch beside him. His other hand cups the back of Jason’s head, tugging him forward—Jason’s arms come up automatically, wrapping around Tim’s neck, his shirt falling back over his abdomen. The alpha’s scent drips with comfort and the promise of protection and Jason—

He feels… He feels warm, and safe, and—

A sob rattles through his chest. Tim holds him closer, tighter, his arm winding around Jason’s waist. He buries his nose in Jason’s curls, stroking his skin with his thumb as he rocks him, slowly.

Jason’s chest heaves. His whole body shakes with each sob, so much that Jason is worried he’s going to shake himself apart. Tim’s steady hold feels like all that’s keeping him together.

It’s not just the last few days, it’s— It’s everything, since his Mom got sick and Dad turned to working as henchman and their lives just… fell apart. He’s— Jason’s been on his own for so long. Longer even than he’s been on the streets. Every day has been a fight for survival and Jason—

Honestly, he thought he’d finally lost.

Tim murmurs in his ear. Jason can’t hear a word of what he’s saying, but the tone is low and gentle, and Jason clings to it.

It takes a long time for Jason’s sobs to subside. Jason— He doesn’t know how long exactly. But he does know that when he’s done he feels exhausted. He slumps into Tim’s chest, tremors still running down his spine. His face is sticky. He definitely got snot all over Tim’s nice shirt, and that—

He’s too tired to even worry about Tim’s reaction.

Fingers comb through his hair again, lightly scritching his scalp. He lets out a soft sigh, slumping even more against the alpha’s chest.

Tim hums. He noses at Jason’s temple; a gentle nudge Jason grumbles at. “C’mon, pup,” he murmurs. “I still need to look at your bruises.”

Jason whines—the same plaintive little puppy whine he used to give his mom when he wasn’t ready to get up yet, for one reason or another. It makes Tim huff, amused; the humor reflected in his scent. It’s nice. Really nice.

He noses at Jason’s temple again. “Pup.” His voice is a little more stern. It’s not threatening, though—doesn’t even make Jason’s hackles raise. Tim is still rumbling. Close as they are, it feels like it’s seeping into Jason’s bones. It lessens the ache in him. His skin— His skin has been itchy for years, but. The creepy crawling of it has subsided, for now at least.

He’s comfortable. Jason doesn’t want to move.

He does anyway, sitting back with a scowl on his face. It makes Tim smile—his scowl deepens.

“I’ll be quick,” Tim promises.

Jason huffs a little. He leans back against the couch cushions. Tim’s hand is still under his shirt, sliding back over to the injured side as Jason lifts it. He feels— He feels more settled now. Less nervous, though butterflies still flutter between his ribs.

Jason watched Tim’s fingers probe gently around the bruising. The purple has started to fade to a greenish hue, but it still hurts when he prods it. Jason’s quiet, pained noises are soothed with soft rumbles and fingers rubbing his shoulders.

When he’s done, Tim’s hand lingers, laying casually on his waist. Jason’s skin would normally be prickling, but—

It isn’t.

It hasn’t this whole time, any time the alpha touched him.

“I don’t feel any cracks or breaks. Did— Were there any injuries to your back?” He’s no longer rumbling.

Jason misses it already. There’s a part of him that wants to snuggle up to him, see if he can’t coax that rumble back out.

He ignores it; instead shaking his head. “No. They— The, um, the boss said they were supposed to keep me as uninjured as possible. Any punishment had to be careful not to leave a mark.”

Tim hums. He strokes Jason’s skin with his thumb, and then slips his hand from Jason’s waist. It—

Jason finds that he misses it.

Tim leans forward, finally opening the first aid kit. It’s stocked, full of things Jason has names for and things he doesn’t. Tim takes out two things: the first, a small jar, and the second, a bottle of puppy’s Tylenol. Jason—he doesn’t like it, but he can’t really argue with it. Not at his size and weight and everything. They’re pills, at least, and chewable too,

Jason examines them carefully before he takes them, washing away the chalky flavor with the drink he’d been given before.

Tim unscrews the lid of the jar. The cream inside smells herbal, though not unpleasantly so. Jason holds out his arm, relaxing into the couch as the alpha works the cream into his skin.

It’s easy to let his eyes fall half-lidded. Jason is warm and sleepy. The air is thick with protective alpha scent; it soothes his hind-brain, the part that is purely omega, purely pup and longing for the comfort and safety of pack.

A small voice in the back of his mind is screaming, telling him he needs to keep his guard up.

It’s easy to ignore like this. To focus on nothing but gentle hands on his skin and the ambient noise around him; the hum of electricity and the distant noise of outside traffic.

Jason drifts.

He barely registers when the alpha switches arms, coming back up only to croon confusedly when Tim stops touching him. He blinks up at him, and gets a kind smile in return.

“Hush, pup,” the alpha soothes. “I’m going to get us something to eat.”

Jason blinks slowly at him and hums in acknowledgment. Tim gets a blanket from—somewhere, and lays it over him. It’s soft. Jason likes it. He nuzzles into it, into more of the alpha’s scent, and sighs.

He can hear Tim moving around in the kitchen—the clatter of dishware and pans, the bubbling of boiling liquid, the sound of his soft footsteps. He can smell something savory—chicken, he thinks, and garlic.

He drifts again, stirring only when Tim nudges him gently. A steaming bowl of soup is pressed into his hands.

“It’s hot,” Tim warns, a bit unnecessarily.

Jason still burns his tongue on the first mouthful. He doesn’t care. Having the food in front of him has made him realize how ravenous he is. His bowl is empty far too soon, though he’s too stuffed to go back for seconds.

His empty bowl is taken from him, and then Tim returns again. “C’mon, pup,” he murmurs. “I’ve got a spare toothbrush you can use. A spare den, too. I’ll get you some nesting materials and pajamas while you brush your teeth.”

Jason reluctantly leaves the couch and blanket behind, shuffling down the hall and into the bathroom. Tim procures a toothbrush for him, and then leaves.

It’s a relief to brush his teeth.

His captors had done it for him, so rough his gums had bled and ached. They still bleed under Jason’s gentle ministrations, but at least it doesn’t hurt. By the time he’s rinsing his mouth, Tim has returned, a bundle in his arms. He offers it to Jason.

“Clothes,” he says, a little unnecessarily.

Jason takes them, and Tim leaves again, giving him privacy. Jason goes to shut the door and then—

Hesitates.

He doesn’t want it open. But— He doesn’t…

What if he shuts it, and it won’t open again?

He’s. He’s being silly.

There’s no way this apartment has more than one bathroom. Trapping Jason inside here would be dumb, and he doesn’t think this alpha is dumb.

Jason takes a deep breath. He shuts the door.

Except—

He doesn’t. The latch hits the frame and Jason stops. His heart thunders in his ears. His breaths come sharper, quicker. He can’t. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t.

Tears burn in his eyes.

It’s not fair.

He rests his head against the frame; one hand cradling the bundle of clothes to his chest, the other gripping the doorknob.

God. He’s so fucking pathetic.

He shudders. Takes a deep breath. It shakes on his exhale, a tremor in his chest. It’s fine. He doesn’t have to shut it all the way. He can leave it like this, with the metal latch over the door frame, only the tiniest sliver of hallway visible.

It’s fine.

He’s fine.

Jason strips quickly, clothes falling into a puddle at his feet. He yanks on the pants the alpha provided. They’re a little short at the ankle, and he has to draw the drawstrings all the way out for them to stay up, but. They fit well enough.

The shirt, too, is a little big, hanging off slightly at one shoulder. It doesn’t show his breasts, and hangs down to his mid-thigh, so Jason doesn’t mind.. Both pants and tee are soft on his skin, not scratching like the other set did.

There’s a hamper. Jason drops his old clothes in, though he’d much rather see them in a dumpster somewhere. The jacket—

Jason hadn’t realized how much it had been comforting him until now. Without it, he feels almost naked. Exposed. He wants to put it back on again. He resists the urge, though. Instead, he straightens it as best he can, then folds it in half and lays it on top of the hamper before he exits the bathroom.

Tim isn’t in the living room any more, and Jason stands, nibbling on his lip. Maybe he should go for the door… but. He can’t bring himself to. Instead he stands there, uselessly, until he hears rustling further down the hall.

He approaches tentatively, and finds Tim in the den at the end of the hall.

Tim glances up when he hears Jason approach, and smiles a little. “I was just getting out some nesting materials,” he says, gesturing.

In front of him is a cushioned nest base, held off the ground by a wooden frame. Piled on top of it is—

Jason had been expecting maybe a couple of blankets and some pillows, but—

The blankets are piled tall; the one on top Jason recognizes as the blanket he’d been using on the couch. There are plenty of pillows, too—and padding, for added layers, and cushions, and, it’s… It’s a lot.

Jason’s throat feels a little tight. “Thanks,” he says, voice small.

“Of course, pup,” Tim says gently. He’s pulled his scent in tight now, but when he draws nearer, Jason catches a whiff of safehere and everythingsokay drifting off of him. His hand moves slow enough it would be easy for Jason to avoid it, but. He stays still, letting the alpha brush his knuckles over his cheek.

“Goodnight, pup,” he murmurs. “If you need me, I’ll be just down the hall.”

Jason nods. The alpha’s hand drops, and then he leaves.

The rest of the den… It’s not bare, but it lacks a personal touch. There’s a chest of drawers in the corner closest to the closet; a nightstand by the nest; and curtains hanging over the window. He shuffles further in, leaving the door open behind him.

He leaves the nest alone for now. Instead—

He goes for the closet first, opening the door. It’s bare inside, except for a thin layer of dust. Jason shuts it again. He opens the drawers, as quietly as he can. Empty as well. The den smells— Not stale, it’s definitely been used before, but. He catches the barest hints of alpha scent, and other than that… It just smells clean.

Jason rubs at his eyes.

No more putting it off.

As much as he doesn’t want to… Jason doesn’t shut the door all the way. Instead, just like in the bathroom, he leaves it open the tiniest sliver. Anything more, and he won’t be able to sleep. Anything less—

Panic.

Even the thought makes his heart race.

Jason rubs his face. He hates this. He hates it so much. Fuck. Sometimes it feels like life is just out to get him. Like—someone or something out there wants him to suffer.

Stop it. Plenty of people have it worse than you do, he scolds himself. He’s safe right now, or— He has the illusion of safety, at least. The alpha is being nice. Jason is— He’s not bound up. The door isn’t locked. There are no bars on the window. Tim treated his injuries. Held him when he cried. Gave him food and something to drink and soft clothes.

And he’d given Jason plenty of material to make a nice, comfortable nest to den in. One that might finally satisfy the instincts that have been screaming at him.

Jason takes a breath, and pads over to the nest. The sheer amount of material before him is almost overwhelming, but… He goes through it slowly. He starts with the padding, layering it into the nest base and using the cushions to help give it shape. He tests it as he goes, until he has something that’s plush, but not so much that it will engulf him. He works a nest cover over it. It’s a bit of a struggle to get it on, but Jason manages; only a little winded by the end. What padding and cushions he didn’t use—

He decides to put them in the closet, where they’ll be out of the way.

Blankets next.

Jason sorts through the pile slowly, rubbing each on his cheek. Scenting them. The one he used on the couch is the strongest scented; still thick with the contentment he’d felt in the alpha’s arms, and the protective, comforting scent Tim had drenched the air with.

He ends up using a little over half of the blankets Tim provided. The rest he puts in the closet.

Pillows—

Jason doesn’t use as many of them. He ends up putting most of them in the closet. And then, finally—

His nest is done.

He stands back, surveying his handiwork. He trills with pride, running his hand over the edge. His nest is soft. Cozy. It needs— It needs books. And— His fox. He misses his fox, the one his mom gave him. He kept it— He managed to keep it safe, all this time.

It’s probably gone now. Or ruined.

His eyes sting, and he swipes at them roughly.

Jason is so tired of crying.

He climbs into bed, pulling the blankets over and around him, snuggling down into the pillows. It feels—

Safe.

There’s something missing, though. Jason— He’s not sure what it is, but—

He’ll worry about it in the morning.

#jaytim #timjay #tauriawritesfanfic #aob dubcon fic #i'm so tempted to start posting even tho i usually prefer to wait till its done #ive broken everything into chapters; have a list of tags; wrote a summary...#i do not. have a fucking title tho #most of my titles were brainstormed for the 15k version!! which. hm. i *could* post that separately maybe...?#smth to think about #a n y w a y #hope u enjoy <333 #as soon as this fic lets go of the chokehold it has on me i'll get back to like #prompts & the other wips languishing in my docs #(and when i say chokehold i mean i started writing this around like... december 20th?)#(and you can thank abyss for THAT too bc this all spiraled from 8k of a genfic i showed them <3)

61 notes · View notes