#john bennett

— dreamlover come rescue me

AN: is this too niche… I haven’t written since like late oct early nov? I started working and it hasn’t given me much time to do the things I like (but I really like my job so I’m either way!) but I’m currently on spring break so im trying to edit and write and just do what I can’t do during the week :)

Warnings: fem!reader, Latina!reader in mind (for the plot, might turn this into a small series..) reader is 18, John is 18

“Welcome to Boston fitness” you recite your voice flat. “Hi, we’d like to sign up” you look up, recognizing the boy? Man? In front of you. “John Bennett,” you hum amused. “You and ted gonna get fit or somethin’?” He shakes his head with a laugh. “No, I’m just here for moral support” Ted cuts in, you nod handing john a clipboard. “Fill this out and I’ll need your ID” John sets his ID down and they walk away.

“And You’re absolutely sure about this Johnny?” Ted asks John as they sit down on the plastic chairs. “Yes” John says confidently, Ted nods.

You go over his filled out form, making copies once you know it’s viable. “Alrighty, well down payment is sixty bucks and then it’ll be twenty every fifth of the month” you smile kindly handing him his ID back.

“Great,” John hands you the money, you count it before handing him his receipt. “Alright, welcome to the Boston fitness family” you staple together the copies and hand him his temporary membership card. “The plastic one should arrive in the mail in a week or two”

“Thanks” John nods.

You hadn’t really expected John Bennett to continue coming to the gym, let alone see him actually gain some muscle, it was so odd seeing him actually looking like a man.

“Mornin’!” He greets walking through the front door. “No Ted today?” He shakes his head. “He had a doctor’s appointment” you tilt your head in confusion but decide against asking questions, he was a stuffed bear for god’s sake. “Alright” you hum and scan his membership card.

He heads to towards the bicep curl machine first and starts his set.

You try not to make your stares obvious but he made it incredibly difficult.

The sweat dripped down his back, the wife beater he was wearing giving you access to the way his shoulders blades contracted. “Fuck” you groan to yourself forcing yourself to look away.

An hour had gone by and John had finally finished his routine, he made his way towards the counter and leaned against it, his body was drenched in sweat and if it were anyone else you’d be gagging but it was him and you had never been more turned on.

“So, are you the only person who works here?” He asks before take a swig of his water. “I’m the only person who works the front counter, nobody else likes doing it and I prefer it, I do not wanna wipe down those machines, have you seen the men that come in here?” He laughs, and you feel yourself blush.

“Yeah, good call, that hairy dude goes commando” it was your turn to laugh, and John felt like he was going to faint.

“Hey…, this might be too forward, and feel free to say no!— but,” since John’s decision to join the gym he had new found confidence in his day to day life , but talking to a girl way out of his league and trying to ask her for her number? Yeah, That would probably never be easy for him.

“can, can I get your number?” He manages to get out and you smile, nodding. “I honestly thought you’d never ask” his face was a deep red as he watched you scribble your number down on a card. “Oh god, thank god, I was nearly gonna shit my pants” you look up holding back a smile, he grimaces. “I didn’t— fuck, sorry— I always,” you giggle watching him fumble over his words, and he pauses watching you.

“Sorry, that, I didn’t mean to say that” you shake your head still laughing. “You’re really adorable” you hand him the card with your number on it. “Make sure to call after nine my dad is usually asleep by then” he nods. “Ok, right after nine got, I will definitely be calling you” he smiles brightly walking backwards towards the door. “Bye” you a wave him off giggling as he almost trips but continues to smile at you like nothing happened.

The phone rings once, then twice and you answer it before it can ring again. “Hello?” John’s voice rings from the phone, you smile wrapping the cord around your fingers. “John, hi” you hear him shift over the line and you do the same, sitting on the ground your back against your bed.

You talk for hours, the conversation flowing, as if you’d know everything about eachother all your lives. “You know, you’re like the first person I’ve spoken to that I actually feel understands me,” you tell him. John froze on his side. “What? But you were like popular,” you scoff, shaking your head. “Yeah, but those people didn’t actually like me for me, they just wanted to use me to gain something, I hated them,” John frowns, tugging the phone close to his ear. “I feel the same about you, Ted gets me but he’s, it’s different he’s not—“

“Human?” You finish for him, he laughs softly. “Yeah, but I don’t think I would’ve survived the last two years of high school without him” you giggle. “I should’ve wised for one of my stuffed toys to come to life” you joke, John huffs a laugh. “Yeah, you still can you know, it’s never too late”

“Yeah, well I don’t think I’ll need to” you say softly.

First of all, it is not enough merely to thank the two pilots with whom I flew when I was on a crew. Were it not for John Brady and Ev Blakely I would not be here, and there would be no story.

Secondly, I must thank the men and women of the 100th—not only the flyers, but those who kept us flying. They all made this narrative the grand story to which I hope I have done adequate service.

I must thank, especially, the three great leaders of the 100th, Jack Kidd, John Bennett, and Tom Jeffrey, who did so much to make us proud to be members of the group whom history now knows as "The Bloody 100th."