#i just wanted to write some arachnophobic jon since i am a certified card carrying arachnophobe

[humanlyimprobable]

The Stuff of Nightmares and Soft Sweaters.

(warnings for a detailed spider encounter) AO3 link

When Jon turns around, he freezes. All thoughts of the peri peri chicken he was supposed to be making for his and Martins supper abandoned as his vision funnels around what is currently sitting on the kitchen floor.

It’s spindly brown legs jutting out from a brown, relatively hairless body and fuckfuckfuckohgodfu c k

Jon needs an exit, he needs to get away from it. As Jon frantically scans the area for an escape path he realizes that all his paths bring him too close to the spider, and it could very well crawl on to him on the way and he might not even KNOW until it's too late and it's in his face and ohgoditsMOVINGohgodfuckhelp

It’s not until Jon cannot physically move backwards anymore that he realizes he’s pressed against the kitchen wall (what if there are more waiting for him on the wall? fuckfuckfuck nope), and it’s not until (with a start) Jon manages to just barely recognize that Martin has come barreling in from where he was chopping wood outside, that he also manages to realize he’s been screaming. He’s not about to stop now.

“Jon! What’s wrong what’s going on?! what’s happening?! Are you ok?!”

Some deep part of Jon’s brain that seems to be the only remaining source of logic takes a small bit of comfort (but not much oh god oh FUCK it’s coming cloSER) in hearing Martin panicking as well. The part that wants this all to be over already however, could not care less and has Jon gesturing quickly to the brown monstrosity currently moving towards the fridge and decidedly not Jon (but really, its all the same at this point).

Martin sighs and takes off one of his sneakers before bringing it down with a loud WACK on top of the spindly nightmare. It takes one more WACK and the sight of a brown smear to assure Jon that it’s officially dead. Jon does not move from his spot.

Suddenly, he realizes he’s staring at Martins face, and he tears his eyes away to scan the rest of the area. (there could be mORE hiding YOU DON’T KNOW). It’s not until he’s wrapped solidly and softly by two big arms that Jon realizes he must be crying. Jon grabs hold of Martin’s sweater with all his might (he keeps his arms in front of him, he cant risk not being able to see them right now).

They stay like that for a while. Though Martin does turn the stove off before their supper becomes too unsalvageable, Jon. The tease is nice, and it startles a small laugh from Jon, which makes Martin smile a bit in kind. Slowly, Martin leads them out of the kitchen, careful to steer Jon away from the smeared remains of the “Hellbeast Martin it was from hell.” Martin gives a small chuckle.

He sits Jon down on the couch, and when Jon starts squirming (he has to be sure there aren't any in here too) he goes back into the kitchen. There’s a small click as he turns the kettle on and when Martin returns, he has two mugs of chamomile tea. Martin sets one mug in Jon's outstretched hands, and sits himself down beside the still shaking man. They sit and drink in silence until finally, Jon’s shoulders sag, and his eyelids droop.

They’re both too tired to do anything but shift until Jon’s laying on top of Martin, and in the comfort of the encroaching night, they both drift asleep.