Picture this: Peter's doordasher is a mutant with healing powers, but ofc she's hiding to try and fit in and live a safe stable life
Her and Peter have a little routine built up after a few months. Yk, silly texts, drop off the order at the door, text unprofessionally during unprofessional hours, send each other memes and reels
That sort of fun thing
She's forced to use her powers to save Peter's life though and it may or may not have put her on the radar 😓
So now all of a sudden Spider-Man himself is super interested in her?? What a coinky-dink!
✑summary: when you, Peter's trusty, steadfast doordasher decide to come to his apartment after he doesn't answer your messages, you find him absolutely busted up. While you use your powers on him, you get the feeling that there will be some unforseen consequences...
✑ inspired by this blurb
✑warnings: pre-established friendship, reader has healing powers, hurt comfort, depressed peter, fem!reader, reader doesn't know he's spidey, takes place right before BND
✑wc: 1.4k ✑masterlist ✑pixie reader
Peter was a strange individual, but you could totally rock with that! The 3 AM Little Ceasar runs he had you on were starting to be the highlight of your night.
In the rare moment that New York City's brisk jog slowed to a speedwalk (because everyone knows NYC never stops) and the amber city lights streak outside your windows, you got to sit with your thoughts and your music and just let everything be.
The thrum of the car, the rumble of the road, the wind carrying under your eyelashes through the open windows of your car... it was more invigorating than any energy drink could ever be.
On this side of the city was less big business and traffic and more mom-and-pop shops and bodegas and apartment complexes that've seen more landlords than this country has seen presidents. So much history and life and culture was all around you, and taking it all in while driving some shut‐in his weekly Little Ceasars was almost surreal.
That's the thing about being a Doordash runner. Most people take it for granted, but you find a part of it to enjoy every night. As an unseen and probably unthought of consequence of just driving food across town for extra money.
And of course, Peter himself. A friendship that was the product of quarterlife exhaustion and restless nights.
Never in your life did you think you'd send Instagram reels with one of your "clients", but here you are snickering at silly videos and sending stupid "this is us" posts.
It started with his odd set up. The creepiest door you've ever seen sitting on maybe the narrowest stairs in the city. A poorly made sign in what you could only assume was a science nerd's scrawl that read "leave food at the door".
You audibly went "huh???", looking around the end of the stairs. A small camera was up at the top. Who is this guy?
With a shrug, you left the pizza on the doorstep. "Hey, pookie! I brought your pizza so.. it's just procedure that I take a picture of you getting your food. So I don't get fired, you know." You sighed, wiggling your phone at the camera.
"Uh, just a minute!" Came a voice from inside somewhere, and thank goodness it did NOT sound like a creepy old man.
Next thing you know, an adorable brunet in a college sweatshirt opened the door.
You took the picture, thanked him, and turned to leave.
It was like that for a few months, really, and little by little the small talk turned into friendly and familiar conversation. You exchanged socials, and now you're online but kind of irl friends with Peter.
Pete. Your sad, lonely pookie.
There are definitely some things that you guys don't talk about, like what he does for work or his weird hours, but it doesn't matter to you. We're all figuring things out at this stage in our lives, right?
Anyway, you're on your usual run tonight, tiptoeing into the apartment building with all the sense of someone who spends more time here than home.
You acended the familiar stairwell and stopped at the door (that still hasn't gotten any less creepy). Usually, his work lights were on and would shine through the window.
The glass panel remained eerily dim tonight.
"Hey, Pete?"
The call had no reply.
That's not ominous at all.
So, you figured you'd do the next best thing.
"Petey, I'm coming inside!"
Despite thinking that the door was probably locked, you went for it anyway. To your surprise, it was unlocked. Odd sign #2...
Pushing the door open, you were met with a dark room, the only sources of light being the city outside and his monitor's screen saver.
"Peter?"
A faint groan came from somewhere further inside the apartment, and you immediately tossed the pizza onto a table and rushed in. "Peter? Peter are you here?" You don't think your voice ever went so panicked.
See, you didn't *really* make friends. You got acquainted with people, sure, but letting people in was something you stopped doing a long time ago. They all leave, get scared off by who you really are. The way you were born doesn't change what person you are, so you just decided to be someone you're not. Someone palletable who says hi on the street and buys coffee for the office.
Someone who does their hair to a "normal" color to not raise attention and keeps her head low.
The moment that you found Peter on his bed, bloodied and bruised to high hell, you forgot all about the barriers you were supposed to put up.
There's just something about Peter that's so much different. Maybe you're both lonely and too trusting. Maybe you both have issues. There's a lot of maybes, but one thing you know is that you care about Peter more than anyone else in a long time.
You rushed in, kneeling beside his bed with a gasp. "Oh, my gosh, Pete! What-what happened?"
He tried to sit up, trying unsuccessfully to push you away. "No, no, 'm fine.. I swear, it's just a scratch. Just a little street fight is all."
"No way! Let me help! I can help, I swear!" You fussed over him, pushing his blanket away to assess the damage. Scrapes littered his arms, and his lip was busted pretty good.
Shrugging your shoulders, you slipped out of your cardigan and let your wings flutter freely.
Surprised flashed across his face at the revelation. "You... you're.."
"Yeah, I know. We've got more pressing matters to attend to, though." You cut him off. Not unkindly, just urgently. "Alright, just hold still..."
Your aura seemed to wash over him, like a blanket straight out of the dryer. Cupped in your hands was a warm light, soft and pure like dandelion puffs. It shimmered and swirled like a tiny universe in your hands, landing on his skin like a light caress. His body relaxed, and his wounds receded as your hands brushed over his body.
Peter reached over onto his nightstand, flicking on the lap that sat there. The warm light caught in your wings and reflected out across the room in a blanket of stars.
The attention didn't go unnoticed by you. "Look, this isn't what it looks like. I wasn't lying to you‐"
"I get it."
You paused, looking up from your hands to meet his own warm brown eyes. They held lots of sadness for someone so young. "You're protecting yourself, right? It's okay. There's definitely a lot of nasty people out there worth hiding from."
He said it like he spoke from expirience. He probably did. Peter didn't ask questions, not like the others did.
With a sad chuckle, you said, "Is that who you ran into tonight?"
"... something like that."
Something about his reaction made you want to open up, so you did.
You came completely clean, telling Peter everything. By his reaction, you'd think you just told him that you were actually allergic to cats instead of a mutant hiding from society.
By the time you finished, the sun was already tinting the sky with the first rays of morning light.
"Oh, shoot! It's super late-uh, early? Either way, I gotta go, Pete. Sorry for keeping you up." You frowned, guilt creeping in at the droop in his eyelids and the slowness of his voice.
"No, no, don't apologize. I didn't mind at all. I think I needed that, in fact." He murmured, rubbing his eyes with a tired smile.
In his eyes, he finally found a constant in his life. With everything changing and speeding up, he's felt especially alone. There's no one he can turn to anymore. Except..
Now he has you.
And something tells him that's good. More than good.
You turned to leave, reaching for the doorknob before Peter called your name. He padded over, passing you your cardigan. "Don't forget this."
Your fingers brushed beneath the fabric as he passed it off to you. "Be safe, okay?"
You nodded, almost reluctant to go home and be alone. "...yeah, I will. Later, Pete."
The door shut, leaving him standing in the room alone. It didn't feel the same as it usually did. No, it felt... warmer, somehow. Like part of you was still there.
Lmk if we should add part 2 of reader getting saved by Spidey and being sent to stay with Frank?
✑summary: when Captain Nash invites you to be a special guest at the 118, everyone notices how quickly Buck takes to you... except for Buck.
✑inspired by this blurb
✑taglist: @pink-star-666 @hornedviper6
✑wc: ✑masterlist ✑animal lover reader
Captain Nash's huge form stepped aside, gesturing a strong arm towards you."118, this is our special guest today. This is K9 Officer Y/N L/N, otherwise known as-"
"Artemis." Chimney finished, shooting you a warm, familiar smile. "Glad to have you in today."
You laughed, your cheeks straining from the wide smile. "I'm glad to be in today. I love working with the LAFD. And I see that there's some new faces around, huh?"
He pointed a thumb at each respectively, "The brunet is Eddie Diaz and the blond is-"
"Evan Buckley, at your service ma'am." He interjected, placing his hand out in front of him with a charming smile. "Call me Buck."
You took it, pumping it strongly. "Nice to meet you, Buck. Great to be here!"
If he was surprised by your enthusiasm, he must've enjoyed it.
"She's here today because I haven't had the chance to teach you about handling animal situations properly. Artemis has a degree in animal behavior." He explained, showing you off like a proud uncle.
"Hopefully I can showcase diffusing an-"
The alarm blared overhead, shocking the whole station to life. "-emergency."
The group geared up, jogging out to the ladder truck to load up. All of the excitement thrummed just below your skin, the bustle and hustle was a refreshing change of pace from the rare call you got down at the station.
You shuffled into the truck, tucked right across from your new friend Buck. His eyes lit up instantly, and he leaned forward attentively to restart the interrupted conversation. Every answer you gave was followed by another timid but excited question, and you're fighting to remember the last time talking to someone was this easy.
Or the last time someone wanted to know this much about you.
Where you're from, how old you are, how many pets you have, how long you've been an officer... Even while you actively responded to a call from dispatch, Buck was by your side like he didn't want you to go to far without him.
"Jeez, Buck. Don't scare her off yet, we just met her." Came the teasing voice of Eddie, who wore a smirk that said Buck would be getting hounded as soon as the shift ended.
He scoffed, trying to maintain his Buck nonchalance—or whatever he had left of it, anyway. "I'm not scaring her off, I'm just... curious, is all. It's natural to be interested in people you meet." Buck corrected, walking back to the ladder truck after successfully recovering a puppy from a storm drain (brownie points in your book).
"Not this interested." Muttered Hen, who caught an agreeing glance from Chimney.
"Well I just think she's cool, okay? Is that so wrong?" He confessed with a sheepish smile.
Eddie just sighed, slipping into his seat with an affectionate yet exasperated look.
— time: 3:17 PM
It was a long day of rushing across LA and answering questions (from the 118 and otherwise), and you were feeling buzzed and warm from all the chaotic fun you've been having on the job.
Certainly beats being on the job on your own.
Right now, you were saddled up responding to a call about some getting assaulted by multiple suspects, apparently, since that's all dispatch could say since the call was distorted and cut early on their end.
You and Buck rolled out of the truck, bumping shoulders as easily and unpracticed as a pair of bonded strays. Neither one of you said anything, if it even meant something.
On scene, there was a man cowering in fear in a tree, clutching the bark so hard his knuckles turned pale. His shirt was torn and he was covered in scratches. Around the tree was 4 or 5 dogs, barking and scratching at the tree.
Immediately, Buck looked to you. Your eyes steeled ahead as you unbuckled your utility belt.
"Uhh, what're you-"
You shushed him gently, draping the belt over his shoulder. You unfastened your patrol shirt and stretched your arms over your head.
"118, hold back. Artemis' got this." Bobby nodded, hanging behind and watching you work.
Approaching the tree, you called up to the man sitting in the leaves. "You, sir! What's your name?"
"Adrain! It's Adrian!" He cried, flinching at every bark.
"Kay, Adrian, give me a second, and I'll have these dogs right off your tail." With a thumbs up in his direction, you assessed the body language. Tails raised, ears forward...
You gave Adrian a once over, looking at the bitten up shoes and torn clothes.
There wasn't any blood drawn.
"Your deduction, officer?" Buck called, tentatively stepping closer. His big Buck persona that he showed to everyone else was dampened down, something softer peeking through as he sought your opinion.
It made you giddy inside.
Pointing to the dogs, you said, "Look, they aren't being inherently aggressive. The guys fine aside from some scratches and torn clothes. I think they want to play."
"Play? Those guys look like they dragged the dude halfway across the park!" He whisper-yelled, giving you a 'just look at him!' look.
"Y'don't believe me? Watch this then." You smirked before heading towards the fray.
You jumped near the side of the tree, patting your thighs to get their attention. "C'mere! C'mere guys!" You called, walking backwards to move them away from the tree. Immediately, they perked up and backed off the tree. "Come git me!" You laughed, kneeling down and opening your arms. They bounded over, fuzzy bodies knocking into you with so much force that you audibly went "oomph!"
Buck instantly panicked, eyes going wide as he nearly threw himself in there after you. "Artemis!"
To stop him, Bobby put his arm in front of Buck to block him. "Just wait sec, Buck. Look closer."
Slowly, he turned his head and really looked at the situation.
They weren't hurting you.
Instead, they were licking and pawing and jumping all over you. You busted out laughing, falling onto your back as they swarmed you with kisses and eager yips. They tugged at your pantlegs and nibbled on your knuckles, but it didn't hurt.
In the background, they moved to get Adrian down from the tree as the dogs were preoccupied. Buck reached into the grass, pulling out a shattered phone.
"Looks like this is why the call got cut off." He chuckled as he handed the phone back to Adrian. Then, he realized he still had your belt clutched in one hand (like the crew wasn't snickering about his obedience the whole time). "Oh, Artemis!" He blurted, turning to go look for you. What he didn't realize is that you were already walking back over. His broad chest smacked into you, and you nearly got knocked over.
Buck's hands shot out, instinctively grasping your waist (if you could think about anything besides how big and steady his hands are, that'd be great).
His mouth opened like he was gonna say something, but you could visibly see the moment that the thought left his brain (are you going crazy, or is his heart pounding through his gear?).
It seemed like the moment lasted forever, and the breath that was behind your chest was trapped just above the massive swarm of butterflies.
"Alright, down, boy." Bobby finally said, putting a firm hand on his shoulder and snapping you both out of it.
Buck finally blinked, remembering what he called you for in the first place. "You, uh... forgot your belt."
You could only nod, afraid that if you said something, it'd end up being about how his biceps are absolutely straining that uniform or how his voice is the perfect amount of raspy or about—
You were ripped from your daydream (violently, might I add) by Buck fastening your utility belt around your waist. This might be the most romantic thing to happen to you.
"There. Good to go, officer." He said softly, staring into your eyes like the entire rest of the unit wasn't watching.
"If they kiss, imma be sick." Said Hen as she turned back to the truck.
Buck ignored them, brushing a stray lock from your face. "Shall we?"
You put a hand on his chest, pulling back and sliding that hand down his arm until it found his. "We shall."
another blurb because I've still got writers block
Okay so picture reader on a witch hunt for this one lady who's spelling men around town so she can find her "perfect man". Dean and Sam decide that "yes this is some bs and we should do something about it!!"
So they go and investigate and uncover her little setup in her garage, so they try to take her down. Reader (is female in this one, but it's for the plot, trust me) is uncovering all these hex bags in the victim's houses, so she rushes over to the boys location in time to see the witch try and lob a spell at the boys.
She jumps in front and braces herself to take the spell. A woosh goes over her as they both call out her name, and then....
Nothing? It felt like nothing happened.
"Hah!" She points a finger, but she realizes her voice is several semitones lower and her arm has like hella definition (ouu shii 👀)
Okay so picture reader who who works with the K-9 unit in the LAPD and they're a special guest at the 118 for the day (courtesy of Athena and Bobby).
They respond to an animal attack (a pack of dogs or a bear or something) and reader's amazing animal skills diffuse the situation without the animal or person getting hurt and Buck and Eddie are sitting there like "Wow, this officer's good.."
Bonus: reader gets to leave with new animal friends because of the call ;)
Warnings: grinding, throatfucking, monster fucking (if you squint), reader is in heat, male genital descriptions for reader (reader is still gn), hair pulling, cum eating, werewolf!reader (bc I said so), sub!Dean, name calling (pup, puppy, good boy), 2nd person POV
Lmk if I missed anything... not beta read (if you wanna be my beta reader js dm me)
Heat shouldn't be something debilitating to a big grown werewolf like you. It was like a period: it was just something you grinned and beared.
You still needed to be the (semi)functional (half)human being that everyone expected you to be, so you just never told anyone whenever it came around.
Not really lying; it's just conveniently not mentioning the truth.
Tonight, though, was really grinding your gears. More specifically, Dean was.
Usually, he didn't mind when you got close. You were physical with everyone, even Castiel. You lingered in personal space, always trailing 2 steps behind whoever you decided to shadow. Dean grew up with a little brother, so this was nothing.
So naturally, you were thrown off when Dean kept stepping away from you. You were feeling needy, yes, and also trying to silently garner his attention, but that was no excuse for him to demand his own air to breathe!
He mumbled something about "just wanting space", but you were too clouded by impulse (and hormones) to honor his request. He had a perfectly fine day, so you were confused about his now avoidant mood.
Little did you know, Dean hadn't been laid in 3 months. That might be a record for him, honestly. Right now, he would fuck anything that stood on two legs and could form the words "I consent" (verbally or otherwise).
Your desire to be unnecessarily close to Dean was getting him a little hot under the collar. I mean, come on. A fiesty werewolf (who also happened to be his smokin' hot best friend) wanted him all to themselves? It was something out of a shitty, kinky porno and Dean wasn't one to turn one of those down.
He sighed, laying his hands down on the table and letting his head hang down between his shoulders. What could he do? What could he say? "Sorry, I haven't gotten nookie in a few months and I'm kinda grouchy about not getting my rocks off"??? That isn't gonna cut it for his best friend.
Before he could mumble out a curse and feel sorry for himself, he felt a warm weight settle against his back. It was you, laying your chest against Dean's back. Your hands grasped at his jacket, finding the fabric of his shirt underneath.
He let out a grunt as your body weight leaned onto him. "Really? You couldn't bother Sam?" He griped, looking over his shoulder.
He was shocked to see you looking up at him like that, with half-lidded eyes and parted lips. Your warm cheek was smushed against the worn leather of his jacket, a small puddle of drool was already accumulating there.
"Dean.." you rasped, your warm, sweet breath hitting him like a tanker. "Of course I didn't bother Sam. The more you pull away, the more I need you."
Your pupils were blown wide, and your hair slightly stuck to your skin from the thin sheen of sweat you had collected. Uncontrollably, your hips started to grind slowly against his ass. A shaky breath hit the back of Dean's neck, and he new he was already in deep shit.
His hips rocked back against yours like he couldn't control himself—which was more than likely true. A low groan emitted from his chest, and your eyes rolled back at the long-awaited friction.
Your face fell against his neck. "God, you're so fucking sexy.." The growl came against his skin, barely restrained and heavy with desire. "I can't hold back anymore, Dean... fuck, I'm in rut and I can't hold back anymore. Could you-"
"Fuck, finally." Dean interrupted, as needy and desperate as you. "God, I feel like a nun with how long this dry spell has been."
His eagerness definitely turned you on. This grinding wasn't going to tide you over with how much you were working up an appetite. The fire was liquid hot, pooling in your belly and spilling out into your veins (and your pants).
You spun Dean around, pushing up between his legs and clumsily knocking him onto the table. With each rock of your hips, a heavy pant escaped your lips. His forehead rested against yours while you desperately ground your aching cock against the front of his jeans.
It was a messy, sloppy kiss full of need and bad decisions. Dean melted under your lips, and the big bad Dean Winchester being so submissive beneath you nearly had you popping the cap right there on the table.
"Oh, fuck..." You moaned, letting your tongue slip into his mouth.
Fuck, fuck, fuck..
The inside of his mouth was so warm and inviting, sending a violent throb down your dick. You whimpered loudly against his lips, and before you knew it, you were cumming so hard in your pants that your knees started shaking.
You hissed at the sudden force of your orgasm, pulling back from his loving mouth like you were burned. "H-h-holy ssshit!" You couldn't even recognize your voice with how wrecked it was, broken and debauched like a horny teenager.
The usual steely self control you carried was nowhere to be found.
✑summary: when Eddie feels like everything in his life is failing and there's too many things going on at once, he starts grasping for control. Why not be a good friend and offer him a solution?
✑inspired by this blurb
✑warnings: slight angst, fist fights, mentions of blood and injury, reader has anger issues
✑ wc: 1.1k ✑ masterlist ✑ scrappy reader
Your ears were ringing with adrenaline.
This felt great.
Sure, this isn't the best outlet, but you and Eddie weren't ones for good outlets.
Your ribs ached, your knuckles were busted, your lip was split, and your throat was raw from breathing so heavy. Wiping the blood from your jaw, you went in for another jab. And another.
The only thing keeping you upright was probably the adrenaline.
Sweat dripped onto the mat, the only sound in the room besides the panting between you and Eddie.
Or maybe there was something else; you couldn't really tell since your ears were ringing like hell.
— time: 7:47 AM
"Wow, Diaz. You look like shit." You scoffed, hooking your thumbs under your utility belt.
You and Eddie have only just started to interact, since Sergeant Grant has been choosing to ride with company for a change. It's month three of being Athena's boot, basically.
It was the day after his first "fight club", and you were both responding to the same emergency. Bunch of druggies at the park being disruptive. You can't blame 'em, it's a slippery slope.
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Right, thanks. I really needed that this morning."
"Of course you did. Guys like you need to be knocked down a peg." You murmured, patting his chest over his gear. "Bosko never told me how your fight went."
A simper stretched across his lips. "Ah, that is none of your business, officer. You gonna arrest me?"
"Only if you're into it, big guy."
"L/N!" "Eddie!"
Two voices rang over your shoulders at the same time, pulling you out of the easy banter and back onto the job.
"This isn't over, Diaz." "See you later?"
You both let out a chuckle, doing the awkward shuffle around being the first to leave. Buck bounded over with a grin, clapping Eddie strongly on the shoulder. "Hey, uh, you done chopping it up with Duke over here?"
His eyes darted between you and Buck before he nodded back to him. "Yeah, yeah. We're all good."
"Later, Diaz." With a two finger salute, you switched your hips and sauntered back to the squad car. Athena gave you a signature Sergeant Grant look, sliding behind the wheel and nodding to the passenger side.
"You gonna keep me waiting, Officer Duke?"
"Really, Serg? I told Buck that it wasn't gonna stick."
Eddie and Buck chuckled together as you hopped in beside Athena and rode off.
Buck popped his lips boredly, shaking Eddie's shoulder as he pulled him back to the truck."Sooooo... you and Dukes, huh? How's that goin' for ya?"
Shaking his head, Eddie rubbed a hand down his face. "It's uh, it's not like that, Buck. We're just friends. Classic cop and firefighter friendship."
"You know, the only cop and firefighter 'friendship' we know is Bobbie and Athena, right?" Buck prodded, smugness creeping into his voice. "You've gotta a crushhh." He said in a teasing singsong voice.
"Eddie and Dukes-y, sitting in a tree.."
He shoved Buck to the side, shaking his head as he bit back a smile. "You're such a kid, man."
— time: 10:54 PM
You decided to change into some workout clothes and headed into the kitchen to make some Gatorade.
Peering into the pitcher as you stirred, you really began to think.
Edmundo Diaz. The guy who always seemed to have everything put together, the guy who could do it all. Job, raising a kid, balancing interpersonal relationships...
He was bound to fall eventually, and since he was so busy holding everyone else up while holding everything together, who would catch him?
Your pesky nose for a person in trouble just couldn't keep you out of his life. There's so many facets to him that you can't quite form an opinion on him. It's like when you dump out a puzzle and try to see the whole picture from just the pieces.
Staff Seargent Diaz, Firefighter Diaz, friend, husband, father... you wanted to peel back every petal of that lotus.
Eddie Diaz... man, he's complicated.
Like the universe could hear your thoughts, a knock sounded at the door.
You set the spoon in the sink, padding to the door and unlocking it.
"Hey, Dukes." He murmured, leaning on the doorway.
You rolled your eyes, scoffing as you stepped aside to let him it. "Really, man? I swore to Buckley that it wouldn't stick."
A real smile pulled at his lips, and he stepped inside. He slipped off his shoes like coming home here was second nature. The garage door was open, and inside was a small setup. Nothing special, just a mat for the floor.
"Alright, simple and classy. I like it." Eddie nodded, setting his duffle on the ground near the wall. He pulled his shirt over his head, showing off his smooth, warm skin.
Scars laced his side like patchwork, the light pink skin there was soft and old.
Depending on who you ask, they could be seen as trophies or grim reminders.
"Well, Dukes?" He prompted, wrapping his knuckles.
— time: 11:39 PM
You were both cleaned, fed, and currently sprawled out across your living room in all your achy, bandaged glory. The alcohol was broken out, and all the guards you put up for daily work were washed away by tequila and the thrum of the bruises and the night outside the window.
Some old movie rumbled quietly in the background and your record player hummed softly in the kitchen. You needed the noise, because after the hustle and bustle of a long day, your own home seemed especially quiet and lonely. The noise was meant to fill up the room so no thoughts could sneak in.
There was a definite shift now in the air between you and Eddie. The playful banter settled into something still, something oddly intimate that you couldn't name.
"You really don't like the quiet, do you?" He asked, setting his cup down and leaning back against the couch.
"Nope. It's an invitation to bad thoughts."
"Bad thoughts, huh?" He hummed, petting your hair and brushing his fingertips over your ears in a subtle motion of aftercare.
You nodded, leaning against his warm calf. It felt like Kuwait again. Your old Staff Seargent again.
Shutting people out again.
Slowly, you manually unclenched your muscles and brought yourself back to the present.
This is Eddie. We're not in war. We're safe.
You needed this. An outlet. Both of you were so pent up, and no one else understood like the other.
He sighed heavily, letting his eyes close as he basked in the afterglow.
You'd keep doing doing it to keep Eddie sane. If it's what he needed, you'd let him beat you to a pulp at the end of every week.
