#who is beep lettuce

[abbygraceasd]

Time to send Ten to the time lord nursing home.

if he's old, imagine how twelve must feel, he looks old and he's chronologically old. No wonder he was so mean to everyone, man's was tired of being around

#abby beep beep lettuce: doctor who

[ptergwen]

can’t get close | ch. two

☛ series taglist ♪ series playlist ✎ series masterlist

w/c: 5,363

warnings: explicit language, drug use, references to sexual activity, angst here and there, gets a bit steamy at the end

summary: peter experiences his first high, you and peter have a heart to heart, harry gets jealous of all the time you’re spending with peter, and everyone has to take another physics test

a/n: i hope this part gives y’all a good laugh but shit really starts to pick up in the next chapter so make sure you stick around! don’t forget to join the series taglist if you wanna be notified when it’s up, lots of love and happy reading!

a few weeks into your tutoring sessions, you and peter have settled into a routine. you each take turns hosting the other and meet on the days you agree upon. you couldn’t have asked for a better tutor than peter. he does everything he can to accommodate your learning style, and his relentless optimism tends to rub off on you. it’s been instrumental in you grasping your physics material.

you and peter genuinely enjoy each other’s company beyond the tutoring, which is a plus since you’re spending so much time together. a friendship is naturally unfolding. it’s still got a ways to go, but it’s a start.

you’re upping your sessions as you get closer to your next test, to make sure you’re prepared for it. the two of you decided to sacrifice your weekends to study together. peter didn’t have any plans otherwise, in all honesty. you, on the other hand, are missing out on getting high with harry like you usually do. you don’t need him to do that, though.

peter is coming over tonight so the two of you can review. in the meantime, you’re baking yourself a batch of edibles.

a girl’s gotta eat, right?

your parents are out, so you have the place to yourself for the evening. that means you can make your pot brownies in peace. no questions, no comments, no concerns, but who are you kidding? they don’t give a fuck what you do. it sucks, yeah. although, it’s times like these that you’re thankful for their absent parenting.

bass from the music you’re listening to blasts through your speaker as you bake your brownies. you use a box and follow the directions it provides, resulting in a subpar, store brand batter. you’re not overly concerned with the batter because the weed is the key ingredient. anything tastes like heaven when you’re high off your ass, and these brownies will do the trick.

your pièce de résistance, the baggie of weed from harry, is dumped into the brownie batter next. you fold it in, fighting the urge to lick the spatula. it’s tempting. you should pop these bad boys in the oven before peter gets here. he’s not a stoner like you are, so you’re not sure how he’d feel about you having the devil’s lettuce around him.

you pour the brownie batter into a pan and put it in the oven. you grin to yourself, sighing happily. to kill time while your brownies bake, you crank up your tunes and dance around the kitchen. the timer beeps to aware you that they’re done before you know it.

you throw on some oven mitts to take out the brownies, placing them on a rack to cool. the sweet, sweet smell of your edibles floods your senses. once the brownies are cool enough, you cut them into pieces and cover the pan in plastic wrap. you’ll indulge in them after your session, and after peter is gone.

a text from the boy in question pops up on your phone’s lockscreen.

parker 🦠: i’m here! buzz me in?

y/n/n: kk coming :)

you turn down your music, then let peter up to your apartment. he shimmies out of his backpack and steps out of his sneakers upon his arrival. he dumps the contents of his backpack onto your kitchen island, ready to get down to business. you stand on one side of the island, peter sitting on the other.

“what’s our plan of action for tonight, parker?” you wonder. “we’re gonna do some practice questions for the test,” peter answers, straightening stray papers into a stack. “how’re you feeling about it? i know the last one didn’t go the way you hoped,” he gives you a small smile. “way better, thanks to you. i think i could at least pass this one,” you mirror his smile.

“don’t give me all the credit. you’re doing your part, too,” peter downplays. “so modest, so humble,” you swat at his shoulder. “physics is like a whole different language to me, parker. it only makes sense when you explain it,” you say seriously.

peter meets your gaze. he holds it for longer than he normally would, his doe eyes locked with yours.

“i’ll go grab my stuff so we can get started,” you tell him. “sounds good. you got anything to eat, by the way? i’m starved,” peter pats his stomach for emphasis. you chuckle at that. “yeah, help yourself to whatever. be right back,” you reply before heading out of the kitchen.

peter obliges, skipping out of his seat to raid your kitchen. a pan of brownies on the counter instantly catches his eye. he peels back the plastic wrap covering them, mouth watering from the smell. there’s nothing quite as delicious as homemade baked goods. he selects a corner piece to taste test, biting into it with a noise of content.

the brownie is downright addictive. peter stuffs the rest of it into his mouth in one go. it has a funny aftertaste to it, but that doesn’t stop him from shoveling another down his throat. your brownies might be the best peter has ever had. he’ll have to ask what the secret ingredient is to make them so good.

his hunger now satisfied, peter covers the pan of brownies again and sits back down at the island. you reenter the room to find him licking his fingers. you laugh to yourself and take a seat next to him, dropping your physics materials on the island.

“good, you’re back,” peter smiles, wiping his hands on his jeans. “let’s start with multiple choice.”

“a block is pulled at constant speed along a rough level surface by a rope that…” peter zones out mid-sentence. he forces himself to zone back in. “that makes an angle of thirty degrees with respect to the horizontal,” he reads on. “complete the following statement: the magnitude of the normal force… woah.”

you two haven’t been at it for long, only just beginning to do your practice questions. you’ve barely made a dent in them. peter was doing just fine at the start of your session, but he’s starting not to feel too hot.

“hey, you good?” you question his odd behavior. “yeah, yeah. sorry. um, where was i?” he smacks his lips together. “right. the magnitude of the normal force on the block could be reduced by… by…” he jolts forward in his seat, clutching onto the kitchen island for support. “talk to me, parker. what’s wrong?” you try again, keeping him upright by his shoulders.

“i think i might be sick or something,” peter mumbles. “what do you mean? sick how?” you ask, worry evident on your features. “i don’t know, my stomach. i feel weird,” he looks down at your hands on him, fingers rubbing circles on his shoulders. “was it something you ate, maybe?” you prompt him. “uh, i’m not sure. i just had some of your brownies,” peter innocently responds.

you let out a horrified gasp, hands flying to your mouth.

“no you didn’t,” you say in denial. “they were really good. like, so good. you gotta give me the recipe,” peter speaks slowly. “for your sake, parker, i really hope you’re fucking with me,” you rush out of your seat and into the kitchen. “why? was i not supposed to?” he wonders.

you frantically check your pan of brownies. surely enough, a couple of them are missing.

“dude, no! they’re edibles!” you shriek. peter’s jaw falls to the floor. “you mean they have marijuana in them?” he yells out. “yes! you’re not sick, you’re high!” you break the news. peter shoots out of his chair and starts pacing around the kitchen. “oh my god, no. this- this can’t be happening, y/n. what am i gonna do?” he panics. “there’s not much you can do. you just sit back and enjoy it,” you relay.

peter is officially freaking out. he hides his face in the palms of his hands, whispering a string of oh my god’s into them as he continues pacing from wall to wall. realizing just how distraught he is, you go over and take his hands in yours.

“it’s gonna be okay, parker. i’ll keep an eye on you until it passes,” you promise. “and how long is that gonna be exactly?” peter asks. “it’s hard to say. everybody’s first high is different. and you had two edibles, so…” you admit. “this is bad. this is really, really bad,” he starts up again. “the only drug i’ve ever taken is the ibuprofen my aunt gives me for headaches or whatever, and it’s the one for kids,” he goes on.

“so, you’re evolving. consider this a rite of passage,” you look on the bright side. peter scowls at you. “weed is harmless. i know what i’m talking about, alright?” you tighten your grip on his hands. “if you say so,” peter mutters.

you didn’t know what you were talking about.

the weed finally got to peter, and he’s been running amuck in your apartment ever since. you’re currently holding him back from jumping off the fire escape because he’s convinced he can fly. he’s a lot stronger than you’d thought, so it isn’t easy an easy feat.

“you’ve gotta get down from there, parker! you’re gonna get hurt!” you reprimand, seizing his waist. “i’m invincible!” peter declares. he’s attempting to climb up onto the railing. “for the last time, you can’t fucking fly. get back inside,” you tug him towards you. “on the contrary, y/n. i can,” he states. “yeah? what makes you say that?” you entertain him.

“i’m spider-man,” peter answers. you’re all too familiar with the look on his face; eyes glazed over, smiling lazily. “god, you’re so far gone. you’re high as fuck,” you laugh at his claim to be new york’s infamous masked hero. “you don’t believe me, do you? fine, i’ll prove it,” he says, hoisting himself up. “no, no, no! that won’t be necessary,” you yank him back.

“please, parker. what’s it gonna take for you to come inside?” you plead. “hm,” peter pretends to think about it, the same dopey grin on his face. “more brownies?” he asks. “oh, no. no way in hell. you’re cut off,” you immediately reject.

it took you literally tackling peter to the ground, but you managed to get him down from the fire escape. the two of you are now chilling in your room. peter hangs upside down off your bed, you laid back on your pillows. you’re positioned face-to-foot. you’re bummed you don’t get to try your edibles tonight because you have to babysit peter. at least someone got to, though.

you decide to work on your physics questions while peter simmers down a bit. although your tutor is incapacitated at the moment, it doesn’t mean you can’t do some studying on your own. you don’t really have a choice but to.

peter is, like, double high since he helped himself to not one, but two of the brownies. his second high is starting to kick in. the weed must be doing its job right this time because this one is much tamer.

“how do you feel, parker?” you look up from your worksheet to check on him. peter giggles, his eyes fluttering closed. “like i’m floating… on a cloud,” he describes. “a rainbow cloud,” he adds on. you stifle a laugh of your own. “a rainbow cloud, huh? what’s that like?” you wonder. “colorful,” he hums.

you leave it at that and begin another question. peter keeps blabbering.

“every time i close my eyes, it’s like a collidoscope. i can see everything all at once,” he says wondrously. “i can see the future, y/n,” he swears. “that’s dope, but can we have some quiet time now? i’ve got work to do,” you request. “quiet time, got it,” peter repeats. he brings a finger to his lips and shushes himself. “oh, parker. what am i gonna do with you?” you sigh.

you’re finishing up your practice worksheet when peter speaks up again. he crawls to the top of the bed where you are, pulling on your hoodie sleeve for your attention. you cap your pen and glance over at him.

“you okay?” you ask. “tired. could i crash here?” he grins up at you. “of course. i wasn’t gonna send you home to may higher than a kite,” you tease, setting your paper down on your night table. he nods, head heavy. “‘kay, cool. i should probably text her,” he figures. “already done. we swapped numbers last time i was over,” you explain.

peter’s aunt worries about him, so she keeps as many tabs on him as she possibly can. because you two are always together, that now includes you. peter finds it humiliating; you find it endearing. you wish your parents cared half as much about you as may does peter.

“you’re the best,” peter states. he lays his head in your lap unexpectedly, a chuckle passing your lips. “the best friend ever. my bestie for the restie, bestest bud,” he yawns out. “parker, go to sleep,” you gently scold. he curls up into himself and lets his arms snake around your legs. “okay, nightie night,” he says with his face nestled into your thigh. “goodnight,” you smile to yourself.

you complete what’s left of your worksheet while peter snoozes. since you’re up, you make use of your time by doing extra physics practice ms. warren had handed out. peter stays cuddled into your lap as you study, sleeping off the rest of his high.

you take a break from your studying at some point to watch peter sleep for a while. it’s not creepy or anything; you said you’d keep an eye on him. his hair has become a mop of curls from how he’s laying, and there are faded freckles dotting his nose that you never noticed before. it twitches every once in a while in his slumber. it’s kind of adorable.

peter is kind of adorable.

your fingers thread through his curls, smoothing them down. you continue to run your fingers through his hair as he sleeps.

you’re not sure how long you stay like that, peter in your lap and your hands in his hair, but the sun is rising now. peter is starting to stir, so you remove your hands from his locks. he lets out a groan and eases himself to sit up from your lap. his eyes are hooded, marks on his cheek from the pattern of your pants. your lips form a knowing smile.

“you’re up,” you state. “so are you,” peter rasps. he moves so he’s across from you. “i never slept,” you say. “why not?” he asks in his morning voice, which is deeper than his usual. “i watched you instead, and i studied a little,” you jog his memory. “crap, we never finished the practice questions!” peter realizes. “i’m so sorry i left you hanging, y/n. we can totally make up the session,” he apologizes.

“no need, parker. i did the questions myself,” you reveal with a grin. “you did? how were they?” peter’s eyes brighten. “not too bad, for the most part. there’s a few i still need your help on, though,” you reply. “for sure. hey, it’s awesome you did it on your own,” he smiles. your grin widens. “now, what was that you said about watching me sleep?” he interrogates.

“i couldn’t help myself. you just looked so cute, drooling all over the place and shit,” you coo, pinching one of peter’s cheeks. peter laughs breathily, face heating up. “shut up,” he mumbles.

peter is still processing the fact that he stayed over at your place and in your bed, at that. in your lap. everything about last night feels like a fever dream. it wasn’t all bad, but it wasn’t all good either. it was just strange. he can’t even remember most of the wacky stuff he said or did while under the influence, which he decides is for the best. he’s embarrassed enough about the situation already.

there’s one positive, though; it’s brought you two closer.

“how’re you doing? still feel like you’re floating on a rainbow cloud?” you wonder, a hand propped under your chin. “oh my god, i said that?” peter winces. “sure did,” you confirm. “that’s so stupid. what else did i say?” he hugs his knees to his chest. “you told me you’re spider-man,” you laugh out. peter looks side to side nervously. “you… you didn’t believe me, right?” he gets out.

“no way, it was just the weed talking. we all do dumb shit when we’re high,” you sympathize. “yeah… i think that was my first high and my last,” peter concludes. he rests his chin on his knees. “god, you must think i’m a loser. sorry to disappoint,” he chuckles at his own expense. “you didn’t,” you protest. you scoot in closer to him. “i know the stoner life’s not for everyone. i don’t think of you any differently than i did before, okay?” you say sweetly.

you feel awful about all of this. peter was nowhere near ready to experiment with drugs of any kind, and it’s your fault he did. you’re glad he’s alright and that he came down from his high, both of his highs, but it shouldn’t have happened in the first place.

what upsets you most is peter being ashamed he’s not into this stuff like you are. the last thing you want him to think is that he has to be a stoner to be your friend. actually, what you like most about him is that he isn’t one. he’s just peter. goofy, geeky, goody two-shoes peter. the world needs more of people like him.

“thanks for being so cool about this,” peter exhales out of relief. “don’t sweat it, that’s what i do,” you nod. “if anyone was gonna get me high, i’m happy it was you,” he cracks a smile. “aw, parker. that might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” you joke, to which he laughs at.

“i hope your parents didn’t mind me staying over,” peter mentions, pushing some hair off his face. “nah, it wouldn’t be the first time a guy spent the night,” you casually reply. peter’s eyebrows fly to the top of his forehead. “dude, it’s fine. they never even came home,” you giggle. “really?” peter asks, not finding the humor in it. “it’s more of a shocker when they do,” you answer.

peter hates the idea of you being left alone. you might legally be an adult, but you’re still their kid. he’ll bet it gets pretty lonely around here, too. it’s no wonder to him that you’re constantly out and about. you have no one to come home to.

“you’re always welcome at my place, y/n/n,” peter offers. “may’s dying to have another girl around,” he does an exaggerated eye roll. “i couldn’t possibly imagine why,” you deadpan. “you don’t have to pity me, you know. i can take care of myself,” you manage a smile. it doesn’t meet your eyes. “no, of course. i’m just putting it out there,” he agrees.

the sincerity in peter’s voice and the light blush that takes over his cheeks makes you feel a certain type of way you’ve never felt before. you feel all gooey inside, like he’s melting you somehow. jesus, you go a day without weed and you’re falling apart. maybe this is a sign you should start to cut back.

“about those practice questions, parker,” you change the subject. “you up to go over them now?”

it’s monday, the big day, the day of your physics test. the remainder of yours and peter’s weekends entailed quizzing each other on every topic under the sun and surviving off of crappy cups of coffee mj brought you two. she works at a bakery, which has its perks. peter’s friends are pretty great.

you’ve done enough studying that you feel confident you won’t absolutely bomb this test. ms. warren won’t know what hit her.

“y/l/n!” harry saunters over to your locker. “where were you all weekend? lighting up without me?” he questions. liz appears behind your locker door when you shut it. “she was studying with peter,” she answers for you. “you should try it sometime, osborn. it pays off,” you add, your bag thrown over your shoulder. “i told you he was good, didn’t i?” liz gloats.

“while you were busy doing whatever it is you do with parker, guess what i was doing?” harry ignores liz to talk to you. you begin walking down the hall, harry and liz on either side of you. “what?” you wonder. “i met with my guy. y’know, the one with the face tats?” harry asks. he means his supplier, who he gets all his drugs from. “i scored big time. you ladies should come by later and restock, see what i’ve got for you,” he elbows you and liz.

“can’t, student council meets after school,” liz replies. “y/l/n, what about you?” harry questions. “i can’t either. i’m hanging with peter,” you tell him. “more tutoring already? very studious of you,” liz remarks. “nope, just a regular old hangout. we’re friends,” you smile. the three of you near the science wing. “since when?” harry scoffs.

“a while now. what, are you jealous?” you poke harry’s arm over his leather jacket. “of parker? please, i was just asking,” harry pokes you back. “good luck on physics, you two. see you at lunch,” liz says as you enter the science wing. “thanks, lizzie. later!“ you respond. harry blows her a kiss before she heads to her next class. “c’mon, i don’t wanna be late,” you usher harry to your classroom.

harry goes straight to his seat once you get inside, but you stop by peter’s desk. you set a hand on his shoulder, leaning over from behind him. peter looks up with confusion written on his features. his face morphs into a grin when he realizes it’s you.

“hey. nervous?” peter asks you. “i don’t get nervous, parker. you?” your lips pull up in a grin. “always, but not when it comes to science. it’s kinda my thing,” he jokes. “so i’ve heard,” you banter back. “anyway, i’ve got a little something for you. something for your troubles,” you start.

you place a stack of cash on peter’s desk. it’s a few more bills than you gave him last time, and at least double the amount.

“what’s this for?” peter murmurs. “the sessions this weeknd, plus a little extra. it’s my reparations for the edibles incident,” you explain. “i’d wish you luck on the test, but i know you don’t need it. see you after class,” you pat his shoulder. “thanks, y/n/n. you got this, too,” he replies, then you’re off.

peter hesitates to pocket the money. it’s a lot, too much. he almost doesn’t feel right taking it.

he has no choice but to do so when ms. warren comes around to pass out the tests. he shoves the money in his pocket before grabbing the stack of test booklets she thrusts at him, earning himself a quizzical look from her. after setting aside a test for himself, he sends the rest back.

“once you receive your test, you may begin,” ms. warren permits. “the scanner should be free next period. i’ll run these then. if you come by after school, i’ll have your grades.”

you pick up your pencil and tap it against your desk absentmindedly, focusing in on the first question. you try underlining key words, circling what the question is asking the way peter had taught you to, but it’s no use. the more of it that you read, the more lost you get. this is just like the last test.

so much for passing.

you reread the question over and over again until it happens. for the first time ever in your physics career, something clicks. wait a minute, you know this. you actually know this. before the answer leaves your mind, you bubble it in on your answer sheet. you beam to yourself and go onto the next question, confidence restored.

you and peter are on your way to get your tests from ms. warren. you’ve both been itching to find out your grades all day.

“i just want you to know that it’s okay no matter what you get. this is only one test out of many,” peter prefaces. “i already told you, i feel good about it!” you enthuse. “yeah, and i’m sure you did awesome! it’s just a disclaimer,” he discloses. “if i failed, parker, i want my money back. full refund,” you jokingly demand. “yeah, um, about that…” peter begins.

“peter, y/n,” ms. warren sticks her head out of the classroom. “here for your test grades, i assume?” she wonders. “yes, ma’am. do you have them?” peter asks politely. “ma’am?” you mock, low enough so only peter hears you. he nudges your side. “i do. come on in, i’ll meet with you one at a time,” ms. warren responds.

“you go first,” you tell peter. “are you sure?” peter gazes into your eyes. “yeah, i need a minute to hype myself up,” you say. “take your time,” he affirms, following ms. warren inside.

you take a few deep breaths to ground yourself while you wait, gnawing on your lower lip. okay, you lied earlier. you do get nervous. you’re the opposite of peter. he’s his most calm and collected in physics class; it gives you the sweats. math and science in one subject? it’s your worst nightmare.

the classroom door swings open, and peter walks out with a smile. he has his test in hand.

“how’d you do?” you ask. “good!” peter chirps, stepping out into the hallway. “your turn. i’ll be right out here, okay?“ he nods at the classroom for you to go in. “see you on the other side, parker,” you dramatize, trekking into ms. warren’s room.

“over here, y/n,” ms. warren calls from her desk. “you can go ahead and shut the door,” she says. you do as you’re told, then join her at the desk. “i’m happy you stopped by. it’s nice to see an effort on your end,” she commends you, sifting through a pile for your test. “mr. parker seems to be a good influence on you, yes?” she asks. “yeah, he’s amazing. he’s been tutoring me. it’s helping a lot,” you respond.

“ah, here we are,” ms. warren retrieves your test. “i see that,” she remarks, holding the test out to you.

you spot the hint of a smile on ms. warren’s lips as you take the test from her. this is it, the moment of truth. your eyes scan over the test, anxiety bubbling up in your chest in the form of a racing heart. it disappears once you read your grace. you laugh out of disbelief, looking up at ms. warren.

“i passed?” you exclaim. “you actually scored slightly above a passing grade,” ms. warren corrects. “well done. this is certainly an improvement from your last test,” she congratulates you. “thank you so much. i- i don’t know what to say!” you reply. “say you’ll keep up the good work,” she lets out a hearty laugh. “i will. thank you again, ms. warren,” you grin. “see you tomorrow, y/n,” she lets you go.

you come running out of the classroom with your test clutched in both hands.

“parker! parker, i-“

peter is nowhere to be found.

he left his backpack here, so he can’t be far. you run down the hall in search for him, your excitement never once dwindling. you find peter at the nearest vending machine. his head is back as he dumps a bag of hot cheetos down his throat.

“where’d you go?” you inquire. your arrival startles him. “y/n! i, uh, i got hungry,” peter’s words jumble together from the cheetos stuffed in his mouth. “surprise, surprise,” you comment. “leave me alone. i’m a growing boy, and food is fuel,” peter rationalizes, you snickering in response.

“so, how’d it go with ms. warren? tell me everything,” he prompts, crumpling his cheeto bag and tossing it in the trash. “i passed!” you triumphantly hold your test in the air. “you did?” peter’s elation matches yours. “that’s awesome, y/n/n! i’m so proud of you!” he praises, pulling you in for a hug.

you throw your arms around peter’s neck with a laugh of pure happiness. he squeezes at your waist, getting a whiff of your perfume.

“thank you! warren even told me to keep up the good work. maybe she doesn’t totally hate me after all,” you recount. “she doesn’t hate you, she just doesn’t wanna see you fail. but she’s a hard-ass, i’ll give you that,” peter chuckles, hands trailing down to your hips. “i really am proud of you, y/n. you earned this,” he says again.

“and i wouldn’t have stood a chance without you. don’t even try to deny it. i can’t thank you enough, peter,” you grin, cupping one of his cheeks in your hand.

that was the first time you called him peter and not just parker.

“you’re welcome,” he murmurs.

something shifts between the two of you in that moment, something that isn’t spoken but doesn’t have to be. you both feel it. it’s what you felt with peter last weekend, that mushy feeling you can’t quite put words to. you’re not sure what it is, but you kind of like it. you want more of it. you want more of him.

it seems you’re not alone in that. peter guides you towards him by your hips, his eyes flicking between both of yours. you nod as an answer to the silent question he’s asking. your gaze fixes on his pink lips, and you wonder what they would taste like on yours. peter would be lying if said he wasn’t thinking about the same thing.

maybe it’s all a trick of close proximity, or the wild thoughts about you that ned put in his head, but peter needs you. it’s time he finally does something about it.

you make your move, hand still on his cheek as you go in for a kiss. your lips are almost touching peter’s when he pulls back.

“y/n, wait. my lips are covered in cheeto dust,” he remembers. “i don’t care, peter,” you decide. your thumb swipes across his lower lip. “i wanna kiss you. do you wanna kiss me?” you check. peter watches the back and forth motion of your thumb, nodding. “so bad,” he breathes out. “then do it,” you muse.

peter closes the space between you two at last. his lips land so passionately on yours that the kiss nearly knocks you off your feet. he grabs firmly at your hips to account for it, a muffled giggle leaving you. you let your lips slot with his, both trying to agree on a rhythm. it’s you taking control and peter following your lead that allows you to slip into one.

you walk peter back against the wall, an arm cornering him in. he feels your tongue against his bottom lip and opens his mouth for you. your tongue massages his at an easy pace, which is new. it feels good, though. he doesn’t take long to get the hang of it. his thumbs knead at your hips lightly, causing the skirt you’re wearing to ride up your thighs.

the kiss is leading to more than either of you had expected, but neither of you are complaining.

“peter?” you move your mouth off his for a moment. “yeah?” peter wonders, voice husky. he attempts to catch his breath. “i really like kissing you,” you say. “i like kissing you, too. could we do it some more?” he chuckles out, nuzzling his cheek in your hand. “yeah, maybe not at school, though,” you suggest. “it’s definitely not ideal,” he agrees.

you stroke his cheek with your thumb, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“how about we take this back to my place?”

tags: @sunshinehollandd @babyspiders @harbingerofheartbreak @moonsock @holland-styles @lowkey-holland​ @bi-lmg07 @rafeyybabyy @aayaissaa @explosiveholland @crybaby-culture @euphoricholland @jallerentrags​ @belovedholland @nocturnalms @mostdefinitelyhasissues @mayal0pez @hopeless-romantic-baby @cutetomholland @daddytasha @yeetedandoboi @curlyfriesthings @mclafm05 @minimarkive @hollandsangel @peterficrecs​ @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @peterparkeeh0le @walkintheprk @cubedtriangle @sleepingdancer @lilostif16 @sillykankam @thats-a-yikes3 @zzoz942 @graceberman3 @rqmanoff @meeko08 @dhtomholland @wh0reforbucknasty @hh-45 @r1dd1kulus @sweetpeterparker @t2kos @alivesarcastically @musicheaux @apatheticsadsack @dearelliewrites @midnightoil01 @alyssablogsthings @haharollins @mclafm05 @loverofminesworld @sp2ncerz @princessatoru

#peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker writing #peter parker au #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Code Blue Ch. 36- Time in a Bottle

Summary: Josie gets new wheels and an unexpected visitor. Her stress catches up with her. Megan sets her off and blurts out something shocking. Lee and Jo go for a ride. The outing doesn't go as planned. Josie finds something heartfelt. Lee comes clean. So does Jo.

*Warnings* Language, angst, domestic dispute, anxiety attack, graphic depictions, drug mentions, roofie rape mentions

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist

Chapter characters: Josie, Luke, Megan, Lee,

Salem, Massachusetts

March 8, 2023

You pulled around to the back of your mom's house where the old barn sized brick garage was that Jason used to run a small motorcycle repair shop out of years ago. It now only consisted of a small art studio you created for your hobby, the lawnmower and the storage of three bikes. One was Jason's Harley and two were yours, an actual bicycle that used to be your grandmother's and could definitely pass for Almira Gulch's bike in the Wizard of Oz, and the other was the bike Jason got you and taught you to ride, a much smaller 1978 Yamaha DT 125, and that would be your go to for awhile now while you stored your Monte Carlo in the garage, out of sight, hopefully out of mind from the bar thugs that Luke pissed off and would be looking for it. How were you going to explain this one to Lee when you show up at this place on a motorcycle that he didn't even knew you owned, let alone could ride?

You leaned on the Harley's seat for awhile, thinking of Jason and how you used to ride it with him. He never wore a helmet but always made you wear one. You loved the thrill of the ride, the speed, the freedom you felt with the wind blowing through your hair, so much so that you had begged Jason to teach you to ride, but of course not with his bike. You could barely hold the monstrous beast up, so that's when Jason purchased the smaller one for you. Little but fierce, the two wheeled dirt bike was, reaching a max speed of 70 mph...and your plan was to get Lee on it with you, for it was his turn to go to one of your safe haven's you had once told him about. It was there you also planned to get the truth out of him.

Your thoughts went back to Jason while you brought your bike out, wondering what he was doing right now as you locked the garage back up. The only way you could get ahold of him was through Craig, which you refused to do, or there was Sonny, where you knew Jason was hiding out, but if you were seen going there, it might raise some red flags, for it was no secret you didn't like the mob boss or his bitch of a wife, Carly, who happened to be Jason's bff just as Sonny was and both always seemed to come first in his life. The blonde entitled vixen was someone you and Britt both would rather not be around. It was too odd of a situation considering Jason used to screw her before she married Sonny.

You propped the bike on it's kickstand in front of the garage and went inside, practically being ran over by one of your mom's dogs.

"Damn it Tater!! Get back here!" you shouted to the stocky jailbreaking tan colored mixed breed of NO CLUE. He was your mom's dog and the other, Marmaduke, was your dad's Great Dane who was always lounging on the couch like he owned the place. The dwarf sized horse pretty much did.

"Mom?? You here?? Tater took off!" You hollered up the stairs and then went in the kitchen when she didn't answer. The damn smell of Megan's cigarette smoke freshly lingered through the house and you could see the film of it in the rays of sunlight shining in from the window, which you then opened and turned on the stove's exhaust fan. Ballsy bitch is all you could call her, knowing if you smelled it, your mom certainly would and so did the poor dogs. No wonder Tater was itching to be free, besides the fact he despised Megan.

The answering machine was beeping, so you played it as you made a mountainous ham sandwich with mayo, lettuce, onion. pickle and cheese.

Knowing your mom wasn't home due to looking out the window and not seeing her car in the driveway, you let out a shrill scream after hearing the realtor's message about the closing sale of the Haunted Star which is probably where she went.

You sat down at the table, aggressively cutting your manly sandwich in two and then....

"Fuck!" You snapped, slamming the knife down. The thought of Orlando's sleezeball father owning and running Jason's boat, probably with Ethan at his side, had you seeing red. And it never would have happened if Jason hadn't fake his death, or more so hadn't changed his will. Of course, if he hadn't put the boat in someone's name, it would have gotten tied up in the state. Another mess that wasn't needed. But your mom, she didn't have to sell it!

Fuming, you shoved the sandwich into your mouth, chewing through heavy breaths with your cheeks looking like a chipmunk stuffed with nuts until your phone beeped, then you heard a motorcycle in the driveway.

"I have your dog."

With your eyes wide, you quickly chewed your food until you could swallow it without choking to death and then ran to the back door to see Luke sitting on your bike with Tater proud and grinning at his feet.

"You....followed me??!!"

"Well, technically no. I'm out for the day to house and job hunt, but...I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone and make sure you got to where you were going safe and sound."

"So technically, you did follow me."

"Look, I meant no harm. I'm not some stalker, just looking out for you is all AND I found your dog in the process. He was running in the street, trying to bite my tires."

"And just how did you know it's our dog?? He could live down the street."

"But he doesn't. Tag on the collar says so."

"Oh..." you quietly replied, feeling like a complete dumbass as he grinned at you. To deflect from your humiliation, you stepped around the corner to view his ride.

"So you ride huh? Nice bike. Triumph speed 400?"

Luke smiled pretty big. "Ahhh, you know your bikes. I like yours too. Yamaha DT 125." he said as he got up and stroked the handle bars, then smirked. "I like a woman that likes to ride. Wanna take mine for a a spin? Unless it's too big for you to handle?"

You offered a slight glare and shake of your head, hearing the double meaning in his tone.

"I'm quite happy with the one I have. It's the perfect size for me." you flatly retorted, hoping he would get your own double meaning of...you have a well equipped boyfriend.

He did, but didn't care. "Hmmm, to each their own. I do like the feel of driving a smaller one beneath me. Maybe I could drive yours someday. I'd sure like to."

"You're something else, you know that?" you said, rolling your eyes. "I really need to go now and so can you. Thanks for the looking out that I didn't ask for and don't need. Come on Tater."

You turned and let the dog in and then went to go in too until his words ceased your steps.

"I'm sorry...this isn't really me. I...I'm just so used to being a certain way with people. Not many friends, remember?"

"You mean you're used to being an egotistical arrogant asshole. I can see why you don't have many friends."

"Ouch. Guess I deserved that."

"Maybe. Look, I don't enjoy being mean to people...I'm just...guarded and I..I guess that's my way of protecting myself and I'm super good at reading people too. I can see this is your own defense mechanism, your way of showing people no one can touch you, keeping people at a safe distance with your humor...and that's exactly what you're getting from it. Distance. And I get why you're like this, I do. Landy is somewhat the same way, minus the sexual innuendos. But I trust him. He earned it. I really don't know how to trust you because the real you I have yet to see, and I...I thought that I had...but Landy says THIS is the real you...so you tell me Luke...which is it??? Because I am sick to death of being toyed with by everyone I thought I could trust!"

You could feel your chest tightening again, but something felt different this time and Luke's words began to fade as he went on.

"You say you get why I am like this...well it's not all because of my dad if that's what you're referring to. I've been fucked over too Josie, christ, who hasn't right? And.....Josie??"

The next thing you knew, Luke was carrying you into the kitchen and sitting you down, then he was ripping off paper towels from the holder.

"Here, hold still, put your head back."

"Wh..wha...why? What's..."

"You have a bloody nose and you almost collapsed. I think you're just overly stressed." he explained calmly as he held a wad of the paper towels under your nose and pinched the bridge with his fingers. "Has this ever happened before??"

"I...no...I mean well, yes, but it's been a long time...I..."

Now you were beginning to panic, clutching onto his coat with one hand and his wrist with the other as you gasped for breath through your mouth.

"Hey there, come on, look at me, you're ok, you're ok, it's just a little blood and it's stopping." Luke softly said with a cool composure and soothing tranquility, once again, knowing just what to do in an urgent situation.

You did as he said and looked into his hushing hazel green eyes as he demonstrated breathing in and out of his mouth in long relaxing breaths for you to follow.

"That's it. In and out, nice and slow."

"Really??"

His eyes grew wide as his breaths became still.

"Oh..NO no no..I swear I didn't mean..."

Your bellowing laughter halted his words, turning him a rose shade of red when he realized he had just been bamboozled.

"Good one Josephine."

Luke hopped up with a grin and moistened a clean wash cloth, then sat back down and began cleaning the blood off of you.

"Point made. If I want to be taken seriously and trusted, then I need to stop being fake. That's as real as I can be right now." he said in all seriousness as he dabbed tenderly at your skin.

It couldn't have been a worse time for your trolloping sister to come home, freezing in her tracks as she caught sight of Luke all hands on with you.

"Well well, who do we have here sister? Do tell cause he certainly don't look like Dr. Dreamy tending to your bodily fluids." she quipped as she took out cold pizza from the fridge, plopped down with her feet up on the table and began eating while basically undressing Luke with her eyes.

"Ughhh, go AWAY! I'm in no mood for you!" you snapped and knocked her feet off the table, in which she put right back up.

"I'm Megan, since my sister is so rude."

"I know who you are." Luke abruptly said inn a not so nice manner.

"Wowza, the rudeness is contagious today. And you are??"

"You know the guy you're fucking this month? I'm his brother...Luke."

Megan's brows instantly furrowed as she stopped chewing.

You smugly grinned at his immediate dislike of her and his snarky remark.

"I seee...well, you could always join us. I'm completely open to that." she retorted with a little smirk.

"Megan, you would be open to anything up to and including a horse's cock." you raved with great satisfaction.

She tossed her pizza in the box and sat forward with a taunting smile.

"I hear Lee likes cock too."

If blood could be heard boiling, it would be yours. All was silent as you reciprocated her glare and then, you flung your chair out behind you and lunged at her with a scream as Luke caught you in mid air, which sent Megan's chair flying backwards and her onto her ass in panic.

"Let me go Luke!!!" you shouted as you ferociously wriggled in his firm grip of locked arms around your waist.

"Sorry love, can't do that. She's not worth it."

"Oh YES SHE IS!!"

Megan stood up in a fury and shouted back something that completely floored you.

"Did you know your perfect ass boyfriend was in love with Ethan and they got married???!!! How's that for being open??!"

"Get out of here now!!" Luke barked, furiously pointing to the doorway while gripping you tightly with one arm. "Or I'll let her go!"

"With pleasure!"

Megan stormed up the stairs and slammed her door as you stood frozen and wide eyed with tears balancing on the rims of your lower lids. Luke cautiously released you and you went back to the table and slowly sat down in tremendous shock.

"Is...is it...true?" you asked Luke with a jittery voice while you peered up at him, tears now falling as you began to visibly tremble.

"Josie...I..."

"Did you know??!" you raged as you closed your eyes, gripping the seat of your chair with white knuckles.

"It's not my business."

You flung back up, mad as hell. "Bullshit!! You make everything your business. You know my entire life so don't fucking tell me your own brother and friend's life was unknown to you."

"Josie...did you seriously think I would just tell you that? It wasn't my place to tell first of all and..."

"And what?? You KNEW the trouble Lee and I were having over Ethan. You KNEW Luke, that I was begging him for answers that he was refusing to give me, that I DESERVED to know. I should have heard it from him and instead, I hear it from my cunt sister of all people...I...I...I seriously can't take anymore."

"Josie...your reaction right now is probably why Lee was afraid to tell you."

"Are you seriously defending him??? My reaction right now is because of how I found out. Lee had every fucking chance to tell me and if he would have, I...I would have understood, we could have worked through it...but the fact is....he didn't tell me. I get it, I get it that he was afraid, but I think it's a hell of a lot more than that and you know why?? because Megan just said it! He was in love with him! Is that a lie Luke???"

"Josie...I won't do this. You will have to ask him. I'm sorry."

"You know what? Just go."

"I don't think I should leave you like this and alone with Megan. I want to help you but I just can't.."

"GO LUKE!" you cried and whipped the door open.

He began to walk out and stopped as he reached you. His hand came softly to your cheek as he spoke sympathetically.

"I really am sorry. If you need me...I will be here. This...is the real me."

You whimpered as you stepped back from his touch without looking at him. Luke's eyes fell and he then slowly walked out.

Down the wall you slid, dropping to your butt and drawing your knees to your chest, then bawling into them.

After a good five minutes of hyperventilating, you found your phone and with hands shaking something awful, you texted Lee.

"I'm picking you up. Be outside your lake house at 3 and wear hiking attire. It's now or never Lee."

You needed to leave before your mom got back so she wouldn't see you this way and Lee's lake house was not far from your apartment. You sent her a text about your car being there, then you fired up your bike and took off to stop at your apartment for a long much needed hot shower since you had a few hours to spare.

You parked the bike at the curb, then literally hauled ass up the stairs and jogged down the hall to your apartment so you wouldn't run into Craig, for you knew you would just blow up at him if you did.

Now that you were alone with the steaming water pouring over your head, you couldn't help but to break down again, crying for the entire twenty minute shower.

It was the first shower you had taken at your new place, a shower that you and Lee planned to share together and you began to imagine him there with you but it kept turning into him with Ethan, telling him he loved him. It took everything in you not to just scream at the top of your lungs, but you didn't need Craig huffing and puffing and blowing your house down. Instead, you sucked all your anger down, then got out and dressed to ride, then saw his reply.

"Ok. I cannot wait to see you sweet girl."

Although you were running on fumes from lack of good quality sleep, you were completely wired as the cool pre-spring air, smelling of the nearby bay, powered over your face at 50 mph as you cruised through the twists and turns of the country-like, forest filled area. And soon, Lee would have the intoxicating experience as well, whether he liked it or not.

As you gracefully made the last curve before his lake house, you took in many deep breaths to try and relax the damn butterflies in your stomach that were both nervous and excited to see him, and the anger that resided in your soul.

There he was, as you pulled up, sitting on a stone bench by the side entrance at the top of his drop down driveway, looking lost in thought. Those thoughts were soon stolen by the shocking sight of you on a motorcycle as you climbed off and kicked the stand down with your biker style black boots. Needless to say, his face was priceless as his eyes studied you from head to toe.

"You...you ride??" Lee asked as he remained seated, looking your two wheeler over in astonishment. He really wanted to go and scoop you up into his arms because he had missed you immensely and also because you looked sexy as hell in your biker gear, but something about your demeanor and your text told him he had better keep his distance. He figured you were still angry about yesterday and the way he bailed after the heated kiss you initiated. Actually, he knew your anger would be more over the fact that he had indirectly and wrongfully accused you of messing around with your landlord, which he had instantly regretted after he left. If he only knew how wrong he was as to where your anger stemmed from....and he was about to very soon.

"It would appear so huh?"

Yep, your tone confirmed it. You were pissed.

"Yeah. I just never knew. You never told me."

"It seems there's a lot we don't know about each other."

His head lowered, eyes on his hands as as he fidgeted with his thumb.

"You're still angry with me."

"You ready?" you flatly asked, ignoring his statement.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see when we get there."

Your words were simple and brief, but made their point.

"Ok...I umm... I have something inside I'd like to give you. I was going to give it to you yesterday but..."

You cut him short as he stood up to catch the helmet you whizzed at him, in which he caught gracefully in one hand.

"The only thing I want from you is the truth. As I said, it's now or never."

Although Lee was now becoming frustrated, he was more so worried because this was it. Judgement day. He knew he had to come clean or lose you for good, which he knew he still could either way.

He put the helmet on and sat on the bike behind you, which he basically just walked right over the back end to do, being the beautiful giant he was.

"Can...can I put my arm...around you?"

"Suit yourself."

As you fired up the bike, he slid his right arm around your waist, making you both pause for a moment at the feel of each other's touch. For you, the butterflies invaded your chest and attacked your heart as one seemed to remain underneath his hand. For Lee, he almost cried.

You turned on your 80's walkman radio that you had hooked on your belt and rode off. Lee cringed at the song that came on. Another sign of what was to come is the way he now looked at things, all thanks to you. Judgement Day by Five Finger Death Punch. Aside from the ominous coincidence, the sound of the music was kick ass to ride to.

The speedy ride went on for about two miles, the wind blowing your jasmine scented hair into Lee's face as he closed his eyes and desperately inhaled you. He was quite impressed at how you handled the bike and the damp road. You were just as good at that as you were on the ice. Each curve you hugged forced Lee closer against you, driving the undeniable chemistry between you both to an all time high as he now had both of his hands clasped over your stomach, nice and snug. To you, you wondered if he was a bit afraid, having never ridden with you before or ever even rode a bike at all for all you knew, but you also figured that if he had any reservations about it, he wouldn't have hopped right on. To him, he gripped you so tightly for three reasons. To feel you and be close to you along with his instinct and desire to protect you. If for any reason the bike would go down, he would never let you go.

You veered off onto a secluded gravel drive that ran along an inlet of the bay and parked. Lee reluctantly let go of you and stood up, taking his helmet off as did you and then you walked off.

"This way."

Lee followed you through the multitude of trees down a narrow dirt path to where he stopped to view the lake that was visible in the nearby distance.

"I take it you know this place?" he asked as you stepped up onto a large rock and leaned against a tree.

"It's one of my safe havens I told you about, that I told you I would bring you to one day."

His head turned to you, his eyes filled with happiness that you trusted him enough to bring him to your special place.

"The one you and Jason came to?"

'Well, not this part. I found this area all on my own. The one I went to Jason with can be seen from the lookout deck just down the way. There's an old out of order train viaduct in the woods that runs over the river. I was always afraid to go up there because of the height. The drop is tremendous down to the rapid waters and I can't swim if you recall, but Jason always held on to me, assuring me the breath taking view would outweigh my fears and over time, he was right, I got used to it and now I can go by myself."

"I see." he smiled and then gazed at you. "Well, this place really beautiful and I am sure that one is too. I see what you mean. I told you someday if you let me, I will teach you to swim and over time, it will be like riding a bike..or ice skating. So uh, what's the story with the bike anyways? Where's your car?"

"At mom's, where the bike was stored. Jason got it for me. He taught me to ride and I...I haven't touched it since...he died."

Ugh, you wanted to tell him so bad that Jason was alive. Secrets were what got you both here in the first place. The past 24 hours held so many things Lee didn't know and you decided you better start somewhere before he found out another way just like you did about him and Ethan, so you kind of just blurted it out in a nutshell.

"I have to keep my car hidden from these bar thugs that are after Luke Jr. because he kicked their asses last night and then got in my car and they chased us."

"I'm sorry, what??"

"I...saw Orlando go into the pub and so I went in to see how he was doing since he has been sort of off the grid lately...and then he...saw his dad and took off after him. I followed him, because he had been drinking a lot and well, you know how he gets. It was a good thing that I did because he was carrying a hammer in his pocket and he confronted his dad. He was going to attack him, actually he tried to but I was able to confiscate the hammer and talk him down."

Lee stared at you for a moment, then he dropped them to the ground.

"Jesus." he whispered, lightly shaking his head.

"Is..is he alright? Are you alright?? What did his dad do?"

"He said some pretty awful things to Orlando and to me too and then he took off. Lee, my mom sold the Haunted Star...and Luke Sr. is the one who bought it. I found that out right after I saw you when I talked to my mom. He raved about it to my face, rubbing the salt in my wounds because he knew it was Jason's boat. He's going to ruin it, turn it back into a crime filled gambling ring, I just know it. And I'm sure Ethan will be right beside him."

"God, Jo, I'm so sorry. I know how much that boat meant to you with it belonging to your family....and I...so...how did Orlando's brother come into all of this?"

"Well, I went to take Orlando home and shortly after we got in my car, Luke came out of nowhere said we needed to go and insisted he drive and..."

"So you just let him drive your car that you let no one drive but you?"

"I let you drive it...and well, yeah, I had a few beers myself and honestly, it was for the best because apparently Luke had followed his dad to the bar to handle him after Landy's encounter with him and things turned ugly with these guys and then they came speeding after him which then turned into them chasing us until Luke was able to lose them. But now they know my car."

"My god Jo, you...you didn't think to call me?? I would have been right there. Orlando's my best friend and you're my....."

Lee paused and then walked off, making his way down to the inlet's lookout, a small wooden deck big enough for maybe three people, perched up on a sizeable rock embankment overlooking the water.

You sighed and then followed him, knowing you still had to tell him the about the aftermath at Orlando's place which made you feel nauseated. As he said, Orlando was his best friend so he deserved to know.

Lee briefly leaned on the metal railing and then turned to you when he heard you step up behind him.

"I'm sorry. It was late and raining and Luke was handling things just fine, well, for the time being anyways."

"What do you mean...anyways? Jo...what happened?"

"Honestly, I don't really know. I mean, we went back to Landy's and..."

"It's Landy now eh?"

"Lee, don't. Do you want to hear this or not?"

"K. Go ahead."

"Orlando..." you emphasized. "And I were in the kitchen talking. He was telling me some stuff about Luke and Luke heard some of it, which he didn't like and things got heated between them, like, Luke, he just snapped. They fought and then Luke put him in this choke hold and wouldn't let go. I ended up hitting him on the head something, which, he is fine by the way, but...I had to do it. But, even so, Orlando wasn't fine. He ended up collapsing and wasn't breathing and..."

"Jesus Christ! Is he alright????!"

"Yes, yes, Lee, he is ok now. Luke and I...we um...we performed CPR and had him breathing within roughly a minute...."

"You didn't think to call 911?? Fuck, what the fuck is wrong with Luke??"

"I was going to call but I couldn't find my phone and Luke said Landy would be dead before they got there, which he was right considering he wasn't breathing. He would have called if we couldn't get him back Lee."

"Wow, well Luke sure seems to know just what to do. An asshole and hero all in one night. I'm a doctor Jo, remember?? You still should have called them because they could have been on their way if you couldn't revive him, not to mention they could have shocked his heart. I could have tried to help as well. Do you think I would have cared what time it was or if it was raining Jo?? Seriously?" Lee reeled as he shook his head in disbelief.

"Yeah I know Lee but I wasn't exactly thinking straight. I'm sorry. But at least Orlando is fine. I stayed the night to watch over him and Luke too. I hit him pretty hard, he was cut and bleeding and could have had a concus..."

"Well this just keeps getting better. Poor Luke. He tries to kill his brother and you were worried about HIM."

"Yeah Orlando said the same thing ok, but Luke feels terrible Lee and is going to do all he can to make it up to Landy. He's not Ethan."

"As he should feel terrible. How is he not like Ethan when he goes and does the same fucking thing and you...you defend him because he feels bad? If Ethan had shown remorse, would you have defended him too?? Tell me Jo... what started the fight?? What was it that Luke overheard? He don't just flip out like that for no reason."

"Of course I wouldn't have defended Ethan because it's fucking ETHAN! And as far as that fight, it's between Orlando and Luke so how about we get to the real reason we're here?"

"You're not telling me everything. I can feel it."

"Hello pot, meet kettle!! I have been upfront with you since day one about everything that affected us Lee, my deepest darkest secrets and even about things that didn't affect us and you can't even respect me enough to do the same."

"I respect you more than anyone in this world, more than anyone I have ever had respect for Jo. I love you, only you and you know I do. why can't the past be the in the past where it belongs??"

"Because it's not IN the past! It's right here, in our face because you won't admit what I already know. If none of it mattered, you would have told me the first night I met Ethan and then I wouldn't have felt like I do now, how YOU'VE made me feel! I will not be second, I will not share your heart."

"If you already KNOW, then why do I have to tell you??"

"Are you kidding me right now?? Because I want to hear you say it!! You promised you would tell me yesterday and you ran away with the lame excuse of accusing me of being unfaithful with my freaking landlord. I swear to god Lee, this is your last chance or I...am...gone and I will NOT come back. I know my worth thanks to bullshit like this and if I didn't love you so fucking much, I would have left a long time ago...but with that said, I am at the end of my rope, holding on by a mere thread, waiting, always waiting for you to catch me before I fall, and if you let me fall Lee....you will never be able to pull me back. I deserve to know the truth that you feel is so damn important to hide. I want to hear it from you and not my damn sister!!"

"Wait...whh..what??" he asked as his eyes were now beginning to glisten with tears. "What did she tell you?????"

"YOU tell me! You tell me now."

"Jo, baby I don't want to do it like this, please...please don't make me. I swear to god it doesn't matter, that's why I haven't told you. YOU are ALL that matters to me, YOU my Jo."

"Liar!" you cried and shoved him.

Lee froze, peering down at your telling eyes. You knew. He could see it. His hand rubbed over his mouth and then through his hair as he released a whimpering sigh through trembling lips.

"I....I'm not a liar...I'm...afraid."

"Afraid of losing me or...Ethan??? You can't have us both!"

Lee gently took your face in his hands, his tears now falling.

"I don't want him!!!! I want you baby, god I Love you Jo!! So fucking much I can't see straight. It's been 8 days without you and I feel like I'm losing my mind. Why...why can't you believe me?? You used to. I won't let you fall. I'm right here, I've got you. Please...stay with me."

"You really have to ask me why?? Because everything changed when Ethan came back. YOU changed. The secrets, the panic attacks, the fact that you wouldn't tell me the truth, the fact that you wouldn't make him go away!!! It's going to be longer than 8 days Lee...it will be FOREVER!" you cried and pushed his hands away. "You're the one who told me to breathe, and I did it. This, THIS is what I did it for?? Because now I can't breathe. I am torn between holding onto what you promised and accepting the reality of you not being able to deliver. I'm falling Lee."

His breathing began to race and became hard as he turned around, placing his hands on the railing and vigorously shaking it as he bellowed out a long garbled shout.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!! I...I ca...I can't...I...breathe....I..."

Lee began holding his chest again, just like he did that day at the lake house when he had a full blown panic attack. You grabbed onto him as his legs became unstable.

"Lee??? Oh god...ok, ok...it's alright. Look at me baby, I'm right here, I'm right here. Hold on to me."

"Please...pl...please...don't...don...don't let..me fall. I'll...I'll t...tell you...just...t..take me..home."

"Lee, I don't think I should ride with you like this, you could fall off..."

"Take me home Jo!!!!!" he shouted as he stared off in panic, almost as if he were blinded by the attack.

You put his arm over your shoulder, securing it by holding his hand, then placed your other arm firmly around his waist and began to walk him back to the bike.

"I want you to lay your head on my shoulder and lock your arms clean around my waist and don't move, do you hear me?"

"Mmm..hmm..y...yes."

He did as you asked and after you got going, you secured your left arm over his so you could steer with your right and use the accelerator. You released him long enough to brake as you pulled up to the lake house and as soon as you stopped, he sprung off the bike, still in a panic and quickly stumbled his way inside before you could even catch up to him.

"Lee! Slow down!"

You raced in behind Lee to find him at the kitchen sink with his head under a stream of cold water, spurting out hard gasping breaths as his shaking hands clutched the faucet. You struggled frantically to free yourself of your coat and then grabbed a towel out of the laundry room.

"Lee, I'm right here." you assured him as you stroked his ice cold saturated hair. "Come on, the water, Lee it's freezing. Let me dry you off."

He remained leaning over the sink, his eyes planted shut and his mouth gaping and dripping water as you turned it off.

"Baby, stand up."

He did, eyes slitted open as you placed the towel over his head and dried him.

"God, I am so sorry. This is all my fault, I was too pushy and aggressive and selfish, letting my own feelings consume me. I had no right to treat you that way. So much has happened in the past 24 hours and I let it get to me, things that had nothing to do with this and..."

Lee yanked the towel away. "No...you had every right!" he snapped as he fought to get his jacket off, still gasping and panting, almost to the point of hyperventilation.

"Let me help y..."

"I got it!!" he snapped once again, giving his caught and twisted sleeve a powerful tug and he then let the coat drop to the ground, becoming more distressed and anxious that he couldn't stand still. In his continuing panic, he turned and staggered to the stairs.

"Lee, where are you going?? Wait..."

"Let me go. Just leave me alone." he ordered, pulling his arm from your hold and tripping his way up the stairs.

Your hand came to cover your mouth as you stood frozen with gaping eyes, not knowing what to do because he wouldn't let you help him. What you were feeling was indescribable. You shouldn't have pushed him so hard, giving him an ultimatum like that but you honestly didn't know what to do anymore.

Doing what he did best, you found his whiskey and poured a shot, then downed it as you stood alone in silence, listening for him and staring at the stairs, then your eyes glided back to the kitchen where you caught sight of something on the table. An envelope with your name written in huge letters...JO.

You picked it up to find some crunched up paper wrapped in a bowtie made out of the same material. Was this what he wanted to give you? It had your name on it, so you opened it. Inside was a silver chain necklace with a seashell shaped glass piece attached...and inside appeared to be the tiniest of scrolls tied in a red string.

You then opened the envelope.

"Jo, inside is my love for you...forever. Time in a bottle."

And then under his own words, he wrote the lyrics to the song "Time in a Bottle"

"If I could save time in a bottle The first thing that I'd like to do Is to save every day 'til eternity passes away Just to spend them with you

If I could make days last forever If words could make wishes come true I'd save every day like a treasure, and then Again, I would spend them with you

But there never seems to be enough time To do the things you want to do once you find them

I've looked around enough to know That you're the one I want to go through time with

If I had a box just for wishes And dreams that had never come true The box would be empty Except for the memory of how they were answered by you

But there never seems to be enough time To do the things you want to do once you find them

I've looked around enough to know That you're the one I want to go through time with."

You fell into the chair, once again covering your mouth, this time to silence your crying. After about fifteen minutes, you couldn't take it anymore and made your way up the stairs to check on him, only to find him sitting quietly and perfectly still in the hallway on the floor against the wall, knees bent up, elbows propped on them and his hands clasped together as he rested his mouth against them.

"You...ok?" you softly asked and then slowly approached him.

Lee was finally relaxed and didn't move or say a word until you were standing in front of him. He finally stood up and when he did begin to speak, you let him, with no interruptions.

"It all happened hundreds of years ago to me, but in reality, it was 4 years ago, shortly after Jacob died. Ethan came for the funeral. He stayed for quite awhile and we hung out a lot. He was different then, at least I thought he was a good person. I had no idea what he was involved in, I just needed a friend. A real friend. Sure, I had Orlando but as you know, a doctor's life doesn't have much time for friends...and he didn't want to spend time with Ethan, understandably as we now know."

"We went to a lot of parties during my leave from work. My brother's parties. Drug filled parties where Ethan and I...it was more than the one time Jo. It was many. He...he told me he loved me about a month later and during one of our drug induced nights....I told him I loved him too. I had no idea what I was doing. I was so lost and he was there. Giving me the love I was deprived of. Keeping me medicated to eventually get what he wanted, of course I didn't realize that then. Then one night, he...asked me to marry him and I stupidly accepted, although at the time, I thought it was what I wanted. We flew to Vegas, just me and him. My nerves were on overload. I...I didn't want to go through with it. It didn't feel right when I was sober. Nothing ever did."

"He coaxed me into getting high, which didn't take much to do because I was dope sick and then...there I was, higher than Mt. Everest, saying I do. We went out and partied more to celebrate, gambling our asses off. Later that night, I was coming down from my high and more clear headed. Realizing what I had done, I freaked out and wanted to leave. I told him we needed to get an annulment or however that works, because I wasn't in my right mind. I told him i didn't want to do this with him anymore. It was like I had some sort of epiphany. In my panic of packing my things, he made me a drink. A drink I had no idea was laced with, well...it was roofied. I figured it out later that it was his plan to consummate the marriage to make it more difficult to dissolve...He ummm...."

Lee became quiet and teary eyed as his head lowered, not wanting to look at you.

"Jesus...Lee...did he....force himself on you??"

His eyes slowly rolled up to yours as a tear fell.

"I couldn't prove anything, nor did I want to. I didn't want anyone to know about any of what we did. I told myself that Ethan too, was out of his mind on the drugs and didn't mean to do what he did and I just wanted to forget it all ever happened. We flew back the next day and never spoke of it. I then checked myself into rehab for 90 days without his knowledge and when he found out, I refused his visits and calls. After I got out, I filed for a simple annulment to erase it all, but it was not granted. In Massachusetts, you have to have solid clear proof of your claims and...I had none to show we were both incompetent due to impairment and even if I had proof of what he did to me, I sure as hell wasn't going to make that public and of course without proof, the marriage would have been considered consummated, so...I filed for divorce which I was able to do since I had lived here more than a year. I claimed irreconcilable differences just to be simple and after that, I didn't see him for another year. He had been back and forth between the U.K. and Boston and when I saw him again, I had then forgiven him by blaming it all on the drugs for his actions as well as my own and we remained good friends, still hanging out from time to time but that was all it was, I swear it Jo. I knew what I had felt for Ethan was never real and the moment I knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt was when you came into my life and let me know what love really was, my lady strange. I never felt this way for him, or for anyone, ever. That's how I knew it was real this time. I never loved him Jo....I love you."

Lee's voice choked up when he said those last three words to you. His tear stained eyes never once blinked nor did they move and the way he gazed in your eyes as he said it, demolished your heart into a million pieces as if a wrecking ball had swung right in. You now felt like the biggest fool in the world for ever doubting his love for you, and the guilt, it was unbearable, for what you had believed about him couldn't have been further from the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God.

"I know that you do." you whispered with a whimper.

"I...my god Lee...what have I done? Can...you ever..forgive me? For ever doubting you. You told me over and over you felt nothing for him and I let all of my insecurities and everyone else make me doubt your love when I didn't even know the half of what really happened. And now...I...I forced you...I caused all of this...I hurt you so much just now. I..I feel like such fucking scum. I..I listened to my sister and Ethan and even Luke..."

"You didn't know because I kept it from you, that's not your fault. It's mine Jo. There's nothing to forgive sweet girl. God I should have told you so long ago and saved all of your justifiable doubts. Jo, if anyone is scum, it's Ethan. And I'm disgusted with myself for it taking this long for me to open my eyes. I now know he knew exactly what he was doing that night and that he's bat shit crazy on top of it."

"Lee...why. Why were you so afraid baby?? Why did you ever think I would leave you because of it?? You did nothing wrong. Even after everything, you told me the truth and...I'm still here Lee. I can't imagine a world without you."

"For that exact reason. I was afraid because I didn't think you would believe me and I thought I would lose you. And I thought that I had. This entire week, all I have thought about is the last time we made love and how you were just gone when I awoke. I can't even begin to describe to you what that did to me and then I see you a week later and you smelled like cologne. God, I am so sorry for overreacting."

"I know, I got your texts last night." you told him with a smile. "I need you to know, in case you're wondering about me staying at Orlando's too...it was merely to watch over him."

"Jo, I'm not mad about that. My god, you saved his life. If anything baby, I'm so grateful."

"But I...I have to tell you something because I won't keep things from you. I...I did sleep in his bed..BUT...that's all I did...sleep. WITH clothes on. Orlando had fallen asleep and when I came to check on him, I was so exhausted that I ended up falling asleep too. I was just afraid he was going to stop breathing again and..."

"Shhh. It's ok. I believe you and I understand. I am glad you were there for him. Luke, well...that's another story. He's a great friend but...let me just say...I don't trust him around you. I know his track record."

"Yeah umm, I kinda picked up on that and even Orlando told me some things. Lee...he came by my mom's today. I guess he followed me from Orlando's to make sure I got there ok since I was in my car. I...I just wanted you to know that."

"Yeah, I did catch that when you said you heard things from your sister...and...Luke? What the hell did they tell you Jo?"

"It was Megan really. Luke, it's what he didn't say actually. He wouldn't verify what she said, saying it wasn't his story to tell and I guess that only made my thoughts worse. She...she told me that you and Ethan had been in love and married and that was all she said. Obviously Ethan has told her about it. God, I never should have let her get to me like that! I mean, I was literally so stressed out today, I began to panic and got a bloody nose too, can you believe that? I guess I can at least give Luke credit for helping me with that because honestly, if he hadn't been there, I would have had an attack like you did AND I would have strangled Megan, which he stopped me from doing. Oh...and I formally met Tracy too. Boy isn't she just a peach?"

Lee's face cringed about Tracy. "Ohhh, yeah. I should have warned you about her. Tracy's just Tracy, not more I can say on that. After being married to Luke Sr, can't say I blame her too much but with that said, I'll never let her disrespect you. As much as I would rather it had been me to be there for you, I'm glad Luke helped you out, but just be careful. He's trouble as you can see. It follows him and now it follows you because of him and well... it seems like Megs has finally met her soulmate...and you know what Jo? I just don't give a fuck about the two of them anymore. Can we just try and move on together and just leave them in the dust where they belong? They can't touch us. No one can because we're still here through all of the bullshit. I know I didn't take more needed steps to rid of Ethan, but I will do it now. And whoever these bar creeps are, I'll protect you. That is...if you still want forever with me..and even if you don't, I will still do it. I can't say it enough. I love you so damn much Jo March."

You took his hands into yours. "You're all I want. Life just means nothing without you. I know you you love me and I love you. Nothing will ever change that. It's just that forever word....it scares me. Something always interferes every time we are happy and I've already had a glimpse of life without you. I don't want to feel that again."

Lee stroked the back of his fingers down your cheek, then took your hand and guided you to the small window seat in the hall.

Once you both sat down, he repeated the stroking gesture to your cheek with a soft smile.

"As you said, we're still here. We've made it through so much, we'll make it through anything else thrown at us. Everything is out in the open now. Ethan can't hurt us anymore. We won't let him or anyone else. Jo...I'm in this for the long haul. We can do this forever thing and be scared together. You're the one I want to go through time with. You're stuck with me babe."

His grin was so beautiful. He...was so beautiful.

"I...I found your gift. I hope it's ok that I opened it? It's so beautiful Lee and the most heartfelt gift I have ever been given."

"Of course it's ok, it's for you. The little scroll inside...it's the word forever...written by you that you left me last week. I had it reduced and then I put it all together."

"Wait...YOU made it?? Oh my god...I..I don't even know what to say."

"Don't say anything. For god's sake, just kiss me already."

You almost cried when your lips met his. "I've missed you so bad." you whispered in between kisses and then took his mouth again. How could he be so perfect, feel so perfect. You could kiss his supple lips....forever.

"What do you say we turn off the world and you stay with me tonight? I'll make you dinner and we can have some wine, dance even? I just want to show you in every possible way what you mean to me and I have so much to make up to you."

"Lee, if anyone has things to make up for, it's me. And...I need to start with something else you don't know."

You had made up your mind. You would not keep Jason's secret and you knew Lee would never betray your confidence. It was simple really. You loved your brother immensely...but you loved Lee more.

Lee tilted his head, his eyes sparkling, attentive and curious.

"Lee....Jason's alive."

@redeemer46

#lee pace #lee pace fanfiction #code blue #love stories #dark fiction #dark stories #doctors #angst #luke evans #luke evans fanfiction #jolee

[floridaboiler]

They Live Among Us

My husband and I went through the McDonald's driveway window and I gave the cashier a $5 bill. Our total was $4.25, so I also handed her 25c. She said, 'you gave me too much money.' I said, 'Yes I know, but this way you can just give me a dollar back.' She sighed and went to get the manager who asked me to repeat my request. I did so, and he handed me back the 25c, and said 'We're sorry but we don’t do that kind of thing.' The cashier then proceeded to give me back 75 cents in change. Do not confuse the people at MacD's.

We had to have the garage door repaired. The repairman told us that one of our problems was that we did not have a 'large' enough motor on the opener. I thought for a minute, and said that we had the largest one made at that time, a 1/2 horsepower. He shook his head and said, 'You need a 1/4 horsepower.' I responded that 1/2 was larger than 1/4 and he said, 'NOOO, it's not. Four is larger than two.' We haven't used that repairman since...

I live in a semi rural area. We recently had a new neighbor call the local city council office to request the removal of the DEER CROSSING sign on our road. The reason: 'Too many deers are being hit by cars out here! I don't think this is a good place for them to be crossing anymore.'

IDIOT SIGHTING IN FOOD SERVICE. My daughter went to a Mexican fast food and ordered a taco. She asked the person behind the counter for 'minimal lettuce.' He said he was sorry, but they only had iceberg lettuce.

I was at the airport, checking in at the gate when an airport employee asked, 'Has anyone put anything in your baggage without your knowledge?' To which I replied, 'If it was without my knowledge, how would I know?' He smiled knowingly and nodded, 'That's why we ask.'

The pedestrian light on the corner beeps when it's safe to cross the street. I was crossing with an 'intellectually challenged' co-worker of mine. She asked if I knew what the beeper was for. I explained that it signals blind people when the light is red. Appalled, she responded, 'what on earth are blind people doing driving?!' She is a government employee.....

When my wife and I arrived at a car dealership to pick up our car after a service, we were told the keys had been locked in it. We went to the service department and found a mechanic working feverishly to unlock the driver’s side door. As I watched from the passenger side, I instinctively tried the door handle and discovered that it was unlocked. ‘Hey,' I announced to the technician, 'its open!' His reply, 'I know. I already did that side.' STAY ALERT!

They walk among us, they breed, and they vote….... You now have 2 options... Delete it….. or Send it along to put a smile on someone's face today!. HAHAHAHAHAHA

#humor

[lazyrants]

Rottenbeard (prod 119)

Original airdate: October 4, 2004

Story by Magnus Scheving

Written by Noah Zachary, Cole Louie, Ken Pontac, Magnus Scheving

Directed by Magnus Scheving, Raymond P. Le Gue

Executive producers - Magnus Scheving, Ragnheidur Melsted, Raymond P. Le Gue, Mark Read, Brown Johnson, Kay Wilson Stallings

Starring Magnus Scheving, Stefan Karl Steffanson, Julianna Rose Mauriello

Puppeteers - Ronald Binion, Gudmondor Thor Karason, Jodi Eichelberger, David Matthew Feldman, Julie Westwood, Sarah Burgess

YOU ARE A PIRATE! The famous song featured in today's episode of LazyTown, but is it good enough to get me to pirate it?

The episode begins with Sportacus eating his 'Sportacus Club Special' which is just a regular boring ass lettuce and tomato sandwich. Come on bruh. Put some meat on that thing.

While this opening sequence reminds me that this show never talks about meat other then Let's Go, LazyTown! (1997), it does at least technically put eating wheat based foods in a positive light.

It's a beautiful perfect sunny day in LazyTown, and Sportacus decides to take a look at what the kids are doing. Stephanie is in a pirate costume and yelling for help.

Sportacus thinks she is in trouble (why didn't the crystal beep.. hmm??) and goes to town to save her. He cartwheels over those weird yellow walls and jumps over signs to save her. But Ziggy tells him he is in the water and he has stepped on Stingy's fish.

Trixie then tells him that they are playing pirates and Steph is walking off the plank. Cue a hilarious argument between Stingy and Trixie about who's captain. Stingy wants to elect himself because he has the piggy-parrot, but Trixie has promoted herself because she has a hook. There's no challenge here. Sportacus says goodbye and runs back to the ship (nobody's gonna steal it man), then Stephanie walks the plank. Meanwhile, Robbie is in the lair talking about those 'rotten kids' and how they do nothing but make noise. Remind you of someone? Robbie then grabs his largest pair of noise cancelling headphones but he can still hear them. LOL. Now Ziggy has a sword.

Pirate Ziggy is talking about how you should give him your loot, and by loot he means caanddyy. AAAHRGH! LOOK AT THAT BALLOON SWORD! TAKE ALL MY FUIT GUMIES!!1!1!!! Anyways, Ziggy dives to the floor once he sees Mayor Milford and sneak attacks, 'ballooning' his face.

Milford politely asks him to stop it and Ziggy tells them they're playing pirates. Then he takes the kids to his office to tell them all about LazyTown's very own real pirate named Rottenbeard who spread his meanness all across the town and took everything he wanted. Stingy is excited mainly at the word 'took'.

Rottenbeard took a lot of things, except the famous 'LazyTown stone', which is the secret to living in LazyTown. I think the secret is 'balance', guessing that's what the whole show is about. Anyways, they all walk outside to find it, and the stone says 'LAZyToWN SHOULD ALWAyS BE'.

Now everyone is kerfuffled (it's so simple, the secret to living in LazyTown is ) about what the secret is, and Milford says Rottenstein broke it and stole a piece.

Robbie is watching and he has another amazing idea - to make a fake stone, knowing that they'll have to do whatever it says on it. He quickly crafts a new stone (HOW DOES HE DO IT!!!!???) and tries to replicate the broken piece. He carries the stone, but it is deemed too heavy for him and he falls down. Then he gets an EXACT REPLICA of the broken piece in his hand. HOW????

Meanwhile, Milford is reading the kids a chapter about a hero who stopped Rottenbeard's Lazyways. Does this remind you of anyone..? No.. okay. He jumped off a wall and landed on the ground, somersaulted behind Rottenbeard, crawled between his legs, and defeated him.

Rottenbeard promised to himself one day he will return (a new generation of him will). The kids decide to dig for buried treasure chests, and while they're having fun to pretend being pirates, a new friend joins them - Robbie Rotten in his newest disguise as Rottenbeard.

He's talking to them about a buncha stuff about pirate business, I don't know, it was about 30 seconds, I skipped it. So, Rottenbeard gives Stephanie a piece of paper and it reads Robbie's grocery list. LOL! He takes it back and gives her a map of where to find the 'precious booty'.

Then they all get on his boat and perform 'You are a Pirate', which I didn't really care for excluding Stephanie's verses. Meanwhile, the kids have been digging for what seems like forever, and Ziggy is right in front of the X. Robbie tries hinting to dig down by saying 'you have to look under your nose sometimes, look down' and he doesn't get the hint.. gosh. Then Ziggy finally sees the X (Are we talking about THOSE films or the letter..?) and Trixie gives Stephanie a toy shovel to dig with.

She finally finds the treasure chest and opens it. It is the fake missing piece Rottenbeard has made. Nobody has noticed what it says though (the characters in this show have some very strange brain capacity), but Stephanie so happy she sends some mail to Sportacus.

The letter reads 'We found the LazyTown stone. -Stephanie' and Sportacus instantly knows what she is talking about. He takes two tennis rackets and rides to town. Milford deems this a historical day in history (no, I didn't stuff that sentence up, LOL!!). Sportacus blows the dust off the missing piece, and it now reads 'LAZyToWN SHOULD ALWAyS BE LAZy'. Everyone is pretty disappointed and sad that they have to lie around and do nothing now. But, this is exactly how they were like years.. before Stephanie came

Trixie is flipping through the 'History of LazyTown' while Stephanie is over at the stone, sulking about how she has to spend her summer doing nothing 'all because of some stupid st-', just when she leans on it and the desk it is on falls over. Then she finds another treasure map and shows the kids.

So, while Ziggy and Stephanie are the only ones digging, Trixie is reminicising how she is the captain because she has a hook AND the map, and Stingy is singing Wonders on the Sea.

Robbie hears their racket and goes back to stop them from finding the real piece. For the laziest guy in town, he puts on his disguise pretty fast. But it's too late, they've already found the treasure chest.

Rottenbeard says it's impossible to find treasure when you're tied to a tree.. then he ties them to a tree. LOL!! Sportacus does an astonishing frontflip onto the treasure chest. Oh, boy, get ready for this awesome G-rated fight scene directed by amazing action movie legend, Magnus Scheving!!

Rottenbeard steals Stephanie's sword and he swings it over his legs, but Sportacus dodges the attack with a jump. Reminds me of when Bruce Lee did the same move in 'Fist of Fury'. Robbie swings again, but he flips onto the ground. Rottenbeard swings forward and Sportacus rotates his leg. Sportacus retalliates by.. throwing the treasure chests in Rottenbeard's hands..? It works, because he falls to the ground. LOL!!

Stephanie manages to read the books with her leg, and Trixie tells Sportacus to grab a sword. He grabs his tennis rackets and whacks him straight on the butt. LOL!! Then he steals Trixie's sword. The two circle each other and Sportacus twirls his tennis rackets. Rottenbeard twirls his balloon swords, but they decrease in size all times (LOL!!) until he gets it juuuusssstttt riiiiiigggghhhhhttttt..

Sportacus jumps on the wall like the hero in the book did (who strangly looks like the "Robbie Rotten Comes to LazyTown" (1999) counterpart of Sportacus) and Robbie nearly falls into the hole the kids dug. Then he charges at Sportacus, and Sportacus steps to the side. Then he falls over the wall.

Sportacus flips over Rottenbeard and whacks him on the butt again! Then he slides over his legs, reluctantly "gives him a little push" (softly kicks him), and Rottenbeard has fell into the kids' dug hole. Jacky Chan who? This is the epitome of foreign fight scenes. Then Robbie's disguise is revealed and he has a bunch of dirt in his mouth (haha!).

Sportacus unties the kids and he takes the treasure chest over to the rest of the LazyTown stone. He blows the dust off the REAL missing piece and it says.. "LAZyToWN SHOULD ALWAys BE.. FOLLOWING THE LAZyRANTS TUMBLR ACCOUNT".. nah, just kidding. It actually says that 'LAZyToWN SHOULD ALWAyS BE HAPPy'.

And everyone is supper happy about that! Milford says it'll be especially easy because they just have to smile. Then they perform Bing Bang.

Meanwhile, Robbie is in his lair, trying to take Milford's advice to smile, but the mirror breaks. A little bit harsh, but kinda funny.

THE END.

10/10 episode if I must say. Stephanie's verse is pretty cool in the featured song, and it also features the closest thing we'll ever get to a LazyTown fight scene.

#lazytown #sportacus #nickelodeon #stephanie #robbie rotten #magnusscheving #magnus scheving #stefan karl #nick jr #nickelodeon jr #spongebob #comedy #humor #reviews #tv shows #stefankarl #juliannarose #juliannarosemauriello #latibaer #glanni glaepur #glanni glæpur í latabæ #afram latibaer #lazy town #latibær #Youtube

[civihapper]

My husband and I went through the McDonald's driveway window and I gave the cashier a $5 bill.

Our total was $4.25, so I also handed her 25c.

She said, 'you gave me too much money.'

I said, 'Yes I know, but this way you can just give me a dollar back.'

She sighed and went to get the manager who asked me to repeat my request.

I did so, and he handed me back the 25c, and said 'We're sorry but we don’t do that kind of thing.'

The cashier then proceeded to give me back 75 cents in change.

Do not confuse the people at MacD's.

*****

We had to have the garage door repaired.

The repairman told us that one of our problems was that we did not have a 'large' enough motor on the opener.

I thought for a minute, and said that we had the largest one made at that time, a 1/2 horsepower.

He shook his head and said, 'You need a 1/4 horsepower.'

I responded that 1/2 was larger than 1/4 and he said, 'NOOO, it's not. Four is larger than two.'

We haven't used that repairman since...

*****

I live in a semi rural area.

We recently had a new neighbour call the local city council office to request the removal of the DEER CROSSING sign on our road.

The reason: “Too many deers are being hit by cars out here! I don't think this is a good place for them to be crossing anymore.”

*****

My daughter went to a Mexican fast food and ordered a taco.

She asked the person behind the counter for 'minimal lettuce.'

He said he was sorry, but they only had iceberg lettuce.

*****

I was at the airport, checking in at the gate when an airport employee asked, “Has anyone put anything in your baggage without your knowledge?”

To which I replied, “If it was without my knowledge, how would I know?”

He smiled knowingly and nodded, “That's why we ask.”

*****

The pedestrian light on the corner beeps when it's safe to cross the street. I was crossing with an 'intellectually challenged' co-worker of mine.

She asked if I knew what the beeper was for.

I explained that it signals blind people when the light is red.

Appalled, she responded, 'what on earth are blind people doing driving?!'

She is a government employee.....

*****

When my wife and I arrived at a car dealership to pick up our car after a

service, we were told the keys had been locked in it.

We went to the service department and found a mechanic working feverishly to unlock the driver’s side door.

As I watched from the passenger side, I instinctively tried the door handle and discovered that it was unlocked.

‘Hey,' I announced to the technician, 'its open!'

His reply, 'I know. I already did that side.'

STAY ALERT! They walk among us, they breed, and they vote…....

You now have 2 options...

Delete it…..

or

Send it along to put a smile on someone's face today!.

🥹😂🤣😆

[autoslong]

Struggle session patreon

#Struggle session patreon how to

#Struggle session patreon professional

Is there a topic you'd like covered, have questions or would like to discuss podcast sponsorship, Submit your request here: /stay-connectedįeeling stuck in life? Take the info from the podcast to the next level by joining my master class to start your healing process today. Visit our Amazon Store for all the books mentioned on the podcast! Where to Find Jeff

#Struggle session patreon professional

Learn more about Celeste: Resources Mentioned Announcing Struggle Sessions Patreon strugglesessions Struggle Sessions Editorial Board With our New Years 2021 Statement, we committed ourselves to the task of professionalizing our journal, turning it over time from a small theoretical blog into a vibrant and more and more professional theoretical journal. Recognize your triggers and your own feelings through this discussion and this might just be the relationship advice that you need the most.Ĭlick here to watch this episode live on youtube This session answers some of the questions from our listeners. In a special crossover episode, Lyta Gold of Art for the End Times teams up with a lively panel of fellow podcasters and TrekkiesDavid Banks and Britney Gil (Iron Weeds), Leslie Lee III (Struggle Session), and Aaron Thorpe (Trillbilly Workers Party, Struggle Session, and Everybody Loves Communism)to discuss the most recent Star Trek show. Leslie Lee III and Jack Allison wade into the. “Treat yourself like it’s your responsibility to save yourself.” -Jeff Announcing Struggle Sessions Patreon strugglesessions Leave a comment Struggle Sessions Editorial Board With our New Years 2021 Statement, we committed ourselves to the task of professionalizing our journal, turning it over time from a small theoretical blog into a vibrant and more and more professional theoretical journal. Struggle Session podcast on demand - Struggle Session is the worlds finest politics and pop culture podcast. Listen to Celeste and Jeff discuss grounding who you are and establishing the dividing line on your friends and partner.

#Struggle session patreon how to

This episode tackles protecting your energy and boundaries, how to continue the hard process of healing, and how to maintain a happy romantic relationship. In this episode, Celeste and Jeff Rogers, Executive coach and Facilitator discuss understanding your relationship with yourself, partner, and friends. Celeste will interview guests from different backgrounds who empower people in different capacities. We talk video games, movies, TV, wrestling, comic books, music, anime, and all of your problematic faves. Art and Labor Podcast: Heath Care with Artie Vierkant & Beatrice Adler-Bolton. Beep Beep Lettuce Podcast: Bonus 44 - Obamacare 2: Judgement Day (ft Beatrice Adler-Bolton). 4-6 w/ Beatrice Adler-Bolton of Death Panel. Leslie Lee III and Jack Allison wade into the reactionary hellhole of modern America. september 2018: beatrice adler-bolton, lutte. Many times, we get stuck in a negative cycle and struggle with getting out. Struggle Session is the worlds finest politics and pop culture podcast. The purpose of CelesteTheTherapist is to help shift the way you think.

#Struggle session patreon

[musicniinja]

JAZZ??? WHA T?? MY OWN MUSE??? WHAT??? NANI?

#dont reblog #IM #DKFJDSKFDSF WHA #{ ; ooc. } #who is beep lettuce #wHO IS NINNY #WHO IS ME E P

[deathbled]

imagine having an actual, human name and then introducing your husband, talon and your son who calls himself crow

#sypha is the only one who gets people name privilege rather than bird associated random words or species of birds #an icon #* beep beep lettuce ( ooc ) #but yeah no u have a point when u say they should have two kids #AT KEAST ONE should be using a people name skdnfnfco

[macgyvermedical]

I feel like US television producers/writers are really missing out on something by not setting a TV show on an actual hospital med-surg unit with nurses as the main characters.

I'm talking about a scrubs-meets-superstore type of dramedy:

Half the nurses have (a) particular room(s) they won't go into because they watched someone die bad(TM) in it. One nurse is milking this and it makes it impossible to do the assignment chart.

Two of the nurses on night shift are having an affair. It's been going on for two years, exclusively at work, they've definitely had sex at work multiple times, both are married. Beyond the occasional casual mention and visual gag of them making out in the supply closet, it virtually never comes up. That's their business.

The hospital is scrubs-level normal hospital looking. There's at least one ceiling tile missing. The wall paper is 50 years old and has nicotine stains. It's certainly not whatever fancy-ass hospital House works at.

In a striking reversal of all other hospital shows ever, none of the residents and only about half of the attendings have names. They only show up about five minutes a day anyway. In theory they're real people but we know literally nothing about them.

Someone is screaming. Constantly. Every episode. Sometimes it's for help. Sometimes it's for lettuce. Usually it's just a patient with dementia masturbating really loudly.

There's an old nurse(TM) named Celeste or something. She is 78. Probably. She has a bad hip and a three strike rule when it comes to alarms. As in- if you're A+Ox4 and you are the direct cause of the beeping, she will reset the alarm for you exactly twice. If you mess it up a third time you get to beep until the end of her shift. It's not like its bothering her.

Celeste has the worst pottymouth of anyone you've ever met.

There's one token cis male nurse who exists solely for the female gaze.

There's another male nurse and he's trans. Everyone knows it except the one Extremely Christian(TM) nurse, and they all make gender-y jokes at that nurse's expense.

There's one nurse who's super power is to extremely accurately predict the amount of urine in someone's bladder.

Black Humor. Black Humor everywhere....

An entire episode devoted to the ethicality of cramming uneaten patient food when you're starving and you've got 6 hours left in a shift where you know you're not going to get your government mandated break.

An entire run about one nurse's extremely long dry spell of being totally unable to successfully insert an IV.

An entire episode dedicated to trying to scare the nursing supervisor with patient situations, only for the situations to pale in comparison to everything else the nursing supervisor has had to deal with so far that night.

Visual gag of every call light going off simultaneously at 6:55.

Someone pooped in front of the nursing station. Again.

Someone pulled off their telemetry monitor. Again.

Everyone looking at the monitor at the nurse's station trying to figure out if it's really V-Tach or just artifact from the bed vibrating.

An episode devoted to administration expressing their needs for the nurses to have better customer service, followed by a series of impossible situations in which "better customer service" would actually kill someone.

Psychogenic Seizure Girl(TM) is back.

Every single patient on one nurse's assignment is a full-code gomer.

Multiple gags of what actually happened (patient asked nurse what part of africa she was from before attempting to hit her with a dignicare bag and quoting bible verses) and what it said in the chart (patient used racially and religiously-charged language during assault with medical equipment).

A family member accidentally hit the code button.

A family member purposefully hit the code button but the patient was just in a lil pain.

A die good(TM) vs die bad(TM) episode that encourages viewers to be specific about what they want to happen when it's their turn to go.

A visual gag about 18 family members crammed into a room, all silently watching the nurse. Their heads move in unison. The tension is palpable.

#hospital shows #good idea for a hospital show #writing reference

[abbygraceasd]

I find it funny that if a doctor does something bad, or like..frowned upon, they aren’t given a number, and will be called something completely different. Like the war doctor..the fugitive doctor, does the meta crisis doctor count??? I mean he hasn’t done anything wrong but still. Same energy as being banned from a friend group 😭

haha! That makes sense! I've never been banned from a friend group so I wouldn't know nothing bout that

#abby beep beep lettuce: doctor who

[angelhotchner]

The Glory of Sunshine - Chapter Thirteen

ha ha I have an addiction to writing in this au lol

also just to clarify, the foyet storyline isn't in this au because i cannot deal with writing that in...so it never happened. Haley and Hotch split up and that's that. Another thing, some cases are going to be coming up soon that are from all different parts of the CM timeline. Just ignore that thanks

A03.

Story Masterlist

You’ve never been one to want to be fixed. You’d rather try and fix other people, protect them and nourish them back to who they’ve always wanted to be. Their caretaker. Two thousand miles away from home in a new city, with a new job, and seven new faces to decode and decipher, your attention seems to be slowly wrapping up with one of them. Are you falling in love, Y/N?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader Additional Tags: Very slow burn, Pining Contains: Adult Language, Fluff, Smut, Heartbreak CM Timeline: AU begins after Haley and Hotch’s divorce. Some cases within this story are not canon. WC: 2K

Chapter Thirteen

. “So?” Emily pressed as you pushed your lunch around on your plate, pretending that the wilting lettuce on your fork was far more interesting than the conversation that Emily was trying to initiate.

“So what?” You muttered. You could feel Emily’s gaze burning you and you couldn’t help but glance up, expecting a smirk to settle onto her lips but she watched you with a sympathetic expression.

You’d rather her to be smirking.

“Are you going to talk to Hotch about how you feel?”

“Are you crazy?” You hissed, stabbing more lettuce onto your fork. Emily tsked.

“You’re. Killing. Me,” She groaned, and you scowled through your lashes, finally taking a bite of the food collected on your fork. “Just tell him, Y/N,”

“I’m not a homewrecker, Em,” You sighed.

“It’s not as if they’re married or have a kid on the way, Y/N,” Emily laughed, but her face became serious when she saw yours drop even further. “...please don’t tell me that Beth is pregnant,”

You winced at the idea of Hotch fawning over Beth, rubbing her pregnant belly gently, eyes welled up with love and admiration at the thought of her bringing his second child into the world.

“I don’t think so,”

“Why the face?”

“Because,” you sighed. “Because it’s not just Hotch. It’s Jack, too,”

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N,”

“What?”

“You’re gonna hide behind the idea of protecting Jack’s feelings this time? What on earth are you so afraid of? Why won’t you be honest about how you feel?”

“Change the subject, Em,” You warned, but Emily had a bone now, and she was going to continue to pick it with you for as long as she could.

“No, no - seriously, Y/N, you’re scared. You’re terrified of telling Hotch the truth, but why?”

“Please stop,”

“I’ve told you that he’s in love with you, and I know that you know that it’s true and you still won’t talk to him about it,”

“Em, please,”

“It’s like you try to protect other people’s feelings as an excuse to not deal with your own,”

“Emily!” You yelled, slamming your fork down onto your plate, the tinny sound drawing attention from the people around you in the restaurant.

Emily leaned back in her chair.

“You know that you’re in love with him,” She said, matter of factly, crossing her arms. “And I know that you know he’s in love with you too. What is so difficult about the situation?”

“Beth,” You snapped, pushing your plate away from you.

“It’s not just Beth though, is it?”

“Give it a fucking rest, please, Em,”

----

The next morning, you woke up at 7:30. Within ten minutes of opening your eyes, you decided to call Hotch and allowed the dial tone to beep a few times, before remembering that Beth existed, and quickly ended the call with a frustrated groan. You threw your phone onto your bed and pulled on some leggings and a huge t-shirt, pausing to look at your running shoes before deciding to pull on some old sneakers instead. You didn’t bother trying to find your phone within the mess of your bed’s pillows, but you remembered to grab your credentials, gun and a warm coat as you left your apartment.

You didn’t have a destination in mind and you simply let your feet take you to where they wanted to go, your head mainly focused on the ground in front of you. It reminded you of when you were in your teens - constantly in trouble for staying out all night, accused of going to parties or doing drugs or some other dumb teenage shit, but in reality you were just walking aimlessly around L.A. Not the safest or smartest idea at fifteen, but it always helped you to clear your head back then and today was no exception.

Your feet stopped and you finally looked up, finding yourself stood in front of a church. You’d never been particularly religious and your head tilted in wonder as you glanced upwards to the top of the beautiful building, but your feet picked up again, taking you to the front doors without you willing them to.

The breath in your lungs was sucked out momentarily as you spotted the huge stained glass window at the back of the church, the sun beaming through it and creating a cascade of sugary colours in your eyes.

“Hi, Marissa,” You whispered as you walked down the church aisle. You paused next to the front row of pews and looked around, seeing no-one in sight. You crept up the couple of stairs at the back of the church, where the preacher would usually stand, and knelt down in front of the glass window, feeling the warmth of the sun holding your skin in it’s beckoning embrace.

“So, you’ve called me here,” You said, your eyes following every line, every trace of art within the stained glass. A few hot tears welled up in your eyes and you closed them softly, feeling one tear escape down your cheek.

For a moment, a soft and welcome moment, you were two years old again, sitting on the wooden floor of the first home that you remembered well, a toothy smile on your face as the sun beamed through that famous stained-glass window. Your mom was sitting next to you, holding your hand tightly with one of her arms tucking you into her side. You could smell the jasmine perfume, and her hair tickled the side of your face as you snuggled into her.

Then you opened your eyes and you were back in the church, alone.

The sun had been beaten by the clouds, dulling the stained glass window down to a muted replica of the art that your eyes had feasted upon a few minutes before. Your skin wasn’t warm anymore.

With a heavy sigh, you stood up and walked down the steps, only to find a priest standing in the aisle of the church, watching you intently.

“I’m sorry, Father,” you muttered.

“Don’t be,” He smiled at you softly. “God’s house is here for you,”

“Right,” You nodded, walking down the aisle and breezing past him. You stumbled out of the church door, back onto the street, and you walked briskly back to your apartment.

Something didn’t seem right as you walked down the hallway to your place, and you stopped in your tracks as you noticed your door wide open. Your hands felt around under your coat for your gun, slipping it out of the holster as you took a few steps towards the door, your back firm against the wall.

With a big breath, you swung your body around and planted your feet in the hallway, holding the gun up ready to aim in front of you - only to find Hotch, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, mimicking your stance with his own gun drawn in your living room.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You burst out as you lowered your weapon, him doing the same as he let out a gasp.

“You’re okay,” He sighed to himself, flopping down onto your couch. You raised your eyebrows as you entered your apartment, slamming the door behind you.

“Why are you in my apartment with your gun drawn, Aaron?”

“You called me. I called you back and you didn’t answer,”

“...and that means you should break into my apartment and wait in my living room with a weapon in your hand?”

“I thought something had happened to you,” He admitted. You sighed and shrugged off your coat, heading for the coffee machine. You brewed two fresh drinks and sat down next to him on the couch, handing him one of the coffees.

“When you didn’t answer or call back, I came by to check if you were okay. You didn’t answer the door so I let myself in,” He said softly.

“How the hell did you ‘let yourself in’?”

“The care-taker gave me a key when I showed him my credentials. I found your phone in your bed and I thought you might have just gone for a jog, but all of your running gear was still here,”

“Hotch, sometimes I go out in the morning in something other than gym clothes,”

“I just got worried. Then I saw a shadow creeping in the hallway outside so I grabbed my gun,”

“I was creeping in the hallway because my door was open!”

“As long as you’re okay,” He breathed. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to freak you out,” He placed the mug onto the coffee table and began to stand up. You clawed at his arm, pulling him back down onto the couch.

“Hey, wait,” You grabbed his hand and he looked at you - really looked at you - and you saw the panic in his eyes still trying to subside and the way his chest was rising just a little too quickly. Without even thinking about it, your arms snaked around his waist and you pulled yourself closer to him, snuggling into your chest. Hotch stayed rigid for a split second before his own arms came to settle around your shoulders, holding you tightly against him.

“I’m fine,” You whispered into his chest, and he held you even closer. You both stayed like that for what seemed like hours, until he finally lessened his grip on you and you pulled away, offering him an apologetic smile. Your insides felt warm from the hug, but the idea of Hotch breaking into your apartment (okay, letting himself in) because he was worried made you feel the safest that you’d ever felt in your life. Meanwhile, Hotch’s heart rate was returning to normal up until your arms were holding him tightly and your head was buried into his chest. He was sure that you’d have heard his heart hammering away as you hugged him, but he blamed it on left-over panic from the idea of you being missing...totally not from the close contact with you.

“Why did you call me, anyway?” He asked, picking his mug back up from the coffee table and taking a huge gulp of the liquid.

“I was going to invite you for another run, but then I remember that Beth was back for the weekend,”

“She flew back last night. Work,” He mumbled, staring down into his coffee.

“Oh,” was all you could say, but as you stared at him, you could tell he was holding something back. Hiding something.

“So we could have gone for a run,” He said, glancing back up at you. He didn’t like it when you narrowed your eyes like that at him. The classic sign of Y/N profiling.

“What’s bothering you, Hotchy?” You asked quietly, and he let out a small sigh as he looked back down at his mug.

“Beth’s got her eye on a promotion at work,”

“Okay?”

“...and it’s not in the U.S,”

Have a little faith, Sunshine.

“I see,” You stated, biting your lip. You noticed Hotch’s pupils grow wider as he looked up and caught the action, then he looked back down quickly.

You made a mental note to bite your lip more.

“Anyway, I’m sorry for the panic,” Hotch apologised, standing up and heading over to the kitchen to wash his coffee mug. He walked over to the front door and opened it slowly, before glancing back at you. “See you tomorrow,”

“See you tomorrow,” You repeated.

“By the way, where were you?”

“...in Church,”

“Church?”

“Yeah...someone left a message for me there,” You smiled. He nodded, puzzled, and walked out, leaving you alone in your apartment to dwell on the idea of Beth being out of the equation.

Why did that terrify you more than excite you?

Fuck you, Emily Prentiss, you thought. You’re fucking right.

-----

angel list - message to be tagged, my taglist form doesnt include this fic <3

♡@babymango-writes

♡@baumarvel

♡@infinite-tides

♡@whenyousleepbaby

♡@ssa-ki99

♡@word-scribbless

♡@ssamorganhotchner

♡@meghannnnnn

♡@averyhotchner

♡@wolviesbabes

♡@gspenc

♡@kirstiejenniferx

♡@skyler666

♡@dontcallmekittens

♡@kuolonsyoja

♡@thatsadbitchoverthere

♡@g-l-pierce

♡@canadailluminate

♡@hotforhotchner11

♡@yoshigguk

♡@arsonhotchner

♡@art-and-thoughts

♡@azenpal

♡@romanogersendgame

♡@scuttling

#aaron hotchner x oc #aaron hotchner x fem! reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #angelhotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #the glory of sunshine #tgos #aaron hotchner x yn #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x fem!oc #aaron hotchner x you #the bau #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

[bodyswapmischief]

Chemical Warfare Weight Gain

As I began waking up, the only thought running through my mind was the beeping of the EKG, my arm was attached to. I laid there for a few minutes, my thoughts slowly returned to me.

I began remembering my name, my past but, I had no idea how I ended up there. (I was a soldier in my countries army), I told myself. Although I felt no pain, I feared the worst. (Did I get injured in an enemy attack), I continued thinking to myself.

With a deep breath and my growing strength, I opened my eye and, looked up at the world, around me. I was in a dimly lit hospital room, a curtain prevent me from viewing more than my immediate surroundings. I turn my attention to my body still covered by a thin blanket.

By this time I had no trouble sitting myself up. And, as I did I threw the blanket off me, revealing my hairy yet muscular body, which only wore a pair of boxer briefs. I was thrown a bit off guard but, started to rub the different parts of my body, letting the hair slide through my fingers. (Damn I must have been out for awhile), I thought while feeling the field of hair that covered most of my body. I knew my body had the potential to get really hairy, but I usually shaved on a daily basis to prevent it. Now all that constant work wasted.

My attention turned to my underwear. I looked around and waited to see if I could hear anything. And, when I thought I was safe. I took off my underwear. Again I was relieved. My 8 inch dick was still there surrounded my meaty sized balls. However, I would admit they looked smaller, as the hair on my legs and torso met at my pelvic region to create a massive bush of hair.

Looking around the room I noticed a mirror, which allowed me to see my back and ass, which were also covered in a layer of fur. (Damn, I going have to fix this), I thought to myself.

As I sat there becoming acquainted with my hairy body, something odd popped in my head. (This hair on my body had to take at least a month to grow out. So, I was on this bed for awhile. But, there wasn't an IV placed on me. No, feeding tube. I don't remember waking up to feed myself. How did I survive without food and water.), I started to question the situation I found myself in. But, the strangest part was that I didn't feel hungry.

With questions running through my head, I put my underwear back on and went to look for a doctor or nurse. Leaving my covered area, I finally noticed I wasn't alone. On the other side of the room, partially covered by a divider. I saw a man, also, on a ER bed. Unlike me he was very fat. His belly was exposed as his blanket was on the floor.

As, I got closer to him, I noticed he was completely naked. Ripped pieces of underwear were buried under his fat ass. He was also hairy, but not as hairy as me. His big beefy legs and puffed out fat pad made his dick look small. But, It wasn't like he could have seen it over the mountain that was his stomach. His chest looked somewhat muscular, but now an equal layer of fat made his pecs look more like boobs. Seeing his face, something seemed familiar but, I couldn't make it out. Even through the double chin and fat checks, I felt like I've seen this face, before. (But this guy must be close to 300lbs, I would remember someone this big), I thought to myself.

Feeling embarrassed for him, that his fat naked body was on full display. I picked up the blanket and covered him. His fat stomach even more pronounced with the thin fabric clinging to it. Unable to resist the urge, I patted his stomach, "there ya go big guy." I was shocked as he began to move. His eyes struggling to open. He softly moaned, trying to tell me something. But with the breathing tube in his mouth and the fact he was half conscious, he wasn't understandable. I looked around and also noticed no IV, was placed in him. "Don't worry buddy, I'll go get us some help and answers." I left as his eyes began to close again.

I continued walking and every room I past had the same sight. Big fat men, of different sizes, laying on hospital beds. Not one of them hooked up to machines, other than heart monitors and some had breathing tubes . I reached the elevator and pushed the button. Nothing happened. I started to panic and moved quickly to the stairwell. The doors that lead out were locked. I started yelling for someone ... anyone, as I continued walking the empty halls.

I found my way into a big room, with the biggest guy on the floor here. He must have been 600 pounds. There was no way this man was able to move as his body was nothing more than a giant bean bag of fat. No curves ... just a blob of fat. His file sat on a nearby desk.

"Officer Ryan Lakewood" the file read. I paused for awhile, but suddenly a wave of recognition rushed my brain. I knew that name. Lakewood was one of the more well known guys in the troop. He was massive with muscle; easily the strongest guy. I remained in shock as I walked towards the fat man's face, "It couldn't be" I told myself. But, as I looked at the man's face ... It was him. Underneath all the fat that filled his once chiseled face, I could see him; the man he used to be.

How did that happen. He did eat a lot, but all of that went to fueling his massive muscles. Before, I could think anymore the heart monitor he was attached to flatlined. Panicked, I started to do chest compressions. But, it wasn't long before doctors and nurses, covered up in protective gear, rushed in. They grabbed me and in my panicked state, I started to fight back. But, I was no match as I felt a syringe being stabbed into my skin. As the drowsiness set in, I heard the doctors say "He's gone, the last one over 400lbs ... at least the others still seem to be in stable condition."

I woke up tied to a chair in an empty room. I looked up to see two doctors in front of me. "Hello Liam."

"What the fuck is going on." I yelled.

They explained everything to me. Our enemy secretly broke into our base and unleashed a gas attack. However this gas attack was a new chemical warfare weapon. Once inhaled it latched on to any food in the stomach. The calories release from the food became a deadly ridiculous amount. But death was prevent by the second affect of the gas. It speed up the fat production process and allowed the skin to become more elastic, allowing the infected to safely grow fatter. Even then those who gained an insane amount of weight had other complications, and were deemed very likely to die. Most of these men were 400lbs or more.

However, the worst part is that the men stayed affected by the gas. Meaning if they ate anything, another massive weight gain would happen. The only positive was these men never had to drink or eat anything ever again.

Our base was the first and two more came after. The doctors feared more attacks. So, they started looking for a way to negate or reverse the affects. But, they weren't able to see how the gas worked first hand. They could have given a man something to eat. But all the men were too big. Giving these men anymore to eat would have been a death sentence. All the men where to big ... except me.

My stomach was completely empty when the gas attack happened. The doctors proceeded to tell me that I was their best choice to help save 100s if not 1000s of my brothers. So, I agreed. In a short time, numerous machines were attached to me. When all of it was done, they brought out a small salad

I put one piece of lettuce in my mouth and the flavor was amazing. It was the best thing I ever ate. All this time, I didn't feel hungry, but now I was starving. I ignored the fork and started shoveling food into my mouth, with my hands. Over the euphoria of the sensations happening in my mouth, I could here the doctors outside the room, yelling to stop. But, I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. By the time they came in the room, I was done. But, I was still hungry. I felt my body tingle but, it only made me hungry. I tried to run past the doctors but they stopped me and knocked me out with another dose of tranquilizers.

When I came to, I felt myself laying on a hospital bed again. I was no longer hungry, but I felt heavy. I slowly opened my eyes to face the truth. I looked down to see a hill of fat where my abs once were. I uncover myself and started to examine my new fat body. I sat up and looked into the mirror placed by my bed, as I continued to feel different parts of my body.

My face now had chubby checks and small a double chin, hidden behind my new beard. My stomach jutted out, covered in fur. I used my hands to push it in and felt no signs of the abs that once graced the area. Instead of hard muscular pecs, sitting on my chest were hairy soft breast. I reluctantly touch my new man boobs. It felt weird. As, I touch them I notice how they and my new belly jiggled with every movement. I looked at my, once slender, thighs; they were big, juicy, and also covered in hair. I tried to suck in my stomach but couldn't. It was like my body wasn't use to sucking it in, a muscle I would have to work on.

So, I used my hands to adjust my stomach so I could get a good view of my dick. All this jiggling, reluctantly made my dick hard. Surrounded by fat and a bush of pelvic hair, it didn't even look 8 inches any more. I was lucky if it past of as a 4 incher. I stood up and looked in the mirror. This was my new body ... I couldn't believe one small salad did this.

Over the course of the next few days, doctors came in talk to me. The data they received from me was helpful but, they would need more cases like mine to get enough data. They continued working on a cure but without that additional data they keep running into problems. And that data would never come because, the gas attacks stopped. Many of the world countries secretly got together to stop the country responsible. The use of that gas was a war crime. And, all information was kept secret from the public.

In total I gained 60lbss from eating one salad, going from my fit 186lbs to a fat 249lbs. The rest of the survivors and I were gathered and were given a debriefing. I look around and was a little happy to see I was still one of the thinner guys there. But, you could tell we were all bummed out about our new bodies. We were told to never eat anything again, unless we wanted to die. They explain that as long as we didn't eat anything we wouldn't feel hungry. But, once food entered our mouths we would be insatiable unless we were isolated from all food for a couple of hours.

They also told us the weight gain was permanent no amount of exercise would lead to weight loss, but it would still help the muscle we loss from spending months at the hospital, being inactive.

Many of the bigger guys were forced out of the army. The, still very fat, thinner guys were given a choice to leave. I stupidly agreed to continue serving my country. I didn't realize being overweight, the best way to serve my country was patrolling the streets like some glorified security guard.

Now, I'm constantly mocked by civilians and other soldiers who know nothing about what really happened. I get teased with food and called pig. I had a few close calls where people threw food at my face. Luckily none landed in my mouth. The hardest part is never eating again. It's not that I'm hungry, it more like a habits. Imagine doing the same thing for 26 years of your life and now you can't do it anymore. I miss eating, I just want to be normal again. But, the urge to stay alive is stronger. If I give in, the inner pig would be unleashed, eating every in sight and killing me in the process.

#body #male #swap #transformation #stories #tf #mischief #story #gain #magic weight gain #weight #weight gain

[strawwritesfic]

Steve Rogers x Pregnant!Female!Reader: Where Gods Do Fear to Tread [Ch. 8]

Summary: If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride.

Challenge: “9 Months” challenge by crackleviolet on Lunaescence Archive -- Abortion

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T (sexual references; pregnancy; pregnancy symptoms; foul language; crude  humor; abortion; realistic birth defect; Steve & Bucky friendship;  Reader & Bucky friendship)

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers/Female!Reader

Tag List: @imaginesfire​

Master List

Chapter 8: Scars

“Hey, Steve. It’s [Name]. You probably knew that from my voice. And my number. Um. Just wondering where you are. I’m not used to you disappearing overnight. You’ve probably got a good reason. Just…call me back? Love you. Bye.”

Beep!

“Bucky? It’s me again. Do you know where Steve went? I still can’t get ahold of him. He’s probably with you. Right? I know you’re busy with work, but call me. Please?”

Beep!

“Tony, it’s [Name] Rogers. Steve’s wife? You…already knew that. Sorry. Is Steve with you? I can’t find him. Thanks. Bye.”

Beep!

“Sam. Please tell me you’ve abducted Steve for some therapeutic boys’ night out. He’s been gone since I woke up this morning. I’m starting to worry. Oh, it’s [Name]. Thanks for your help. Okay. Bye.”

Beep!

“Steve. Please come home.”

Beep!

Sighing, you tossed your cellphone onto the coffee table and flopped back on the sofa. The ceiling looked exactly the same as it had every other time you’d tried to distract yourself looking at it that day—and those times had been many. Waking up to find your husband gone with no note, no call, no anything to indicate where he’d gone to was scary. Being unable to get ahold of anyone else who might know where he might be was scarier still.

Surely Steve was fine. Yes, he’d been somewhat quiet and distant since the service for Maggie, but he was fine. Someone would let you know if he wasn’t. Right? Unless all of Steve’s friends had decided to excommunicate you over your role in his daughter’s death. His feelings would be a priority even for Bucky, not to mention all the rest of the Avengers.

You covered your face with your hands and screamed into your palms. What was the matter with you? [Name] Rogers did not sit around the apartment moping when her husband was away. When you’d agreed to marry Steve, it was with the understanding he’d sometimes be in danger (due mostly to his own idiocy, according to Bucky). That that included his weeks off-duty, however, you’d been unaware of.

Rolling to your side, you picked up your phone to check its screen. Still no calls. Still no texts. You didn’t know what else to expect. If anyone was going to call you back, they’d have done so since you’d started bothering them at 9:00 that morning. The clock on your DVD player now read 7:30 PM, and you were too hungry to wait for an answer any longer.

Your bare feet hit the carpet before taking you to the kitchen beyond. Maybe it was your imagination, but every move you made seemed to echo. The papers on the fridge rustled as you passed—sketches of Bucky, water colors of you, photos of you and Steve on your honeymoon, Christmas cards from family and friends. All the happy, frozen faces never changed, but were they about to leave your life forever?

Clearly you needed someone to talk to before the empty apartment pushed you over the edge. After scrolling through your phone’s list of contacts, you made a call to the only person you hadn’t already called that day. Then you headed to the refrigerator to collect lettuce, beets, carrots, and feta while ringing filled the room.

“Hey, sis! What’s up?”

Words could not express the relief you felt upon seeing Cate’s face on your little screen. She looked much the same as you, though a little darker-complected, more muscular, and older.

“Not much,” you replied as you set to preparing your salad for one. “How are you?”

“I’m absolutely fantastic. You know Colonel Rhodes—I mean, James—asked me on a date? But don’t give me that ‘I’m fine’ bullshit. You don’t call me when you’re fine.”

“Really, Cate. Everything here is all right.”

She raised her thick eyebrows. “Do I need to come shank a bitch?”

“You can’t shank Steve. He’s Captain America.”

“I’ll shank anyone who upsets my baby sister. And I never said anything about Captain Rogers.”

You froze in the middle of chopping lettuce. “Damn.” How did she always manage to make you slip like that?

“So, spill. What’s got you and Cap in a tizzy?”

“We’re not in a tizzy. He’s just…not here.”

“Oh my god. He left you?”

“What? No. I got up this morning, and—”

“He left you. Over the abortion. What a jackass.”

“He did not. I’m sure he’s just busy with the Avengers.”

“It’s not his week,” Cate said, and as she did, your stomach sank. You couldn’t pretend the thought hadn’t occurred to you, but you’d been trying so hard to ignore it. Some threats required a little extra muscle. That was all.

“Maybe they had an emergency and called him in.”

“Did he leave you a note?”

“No.”

“You said he’s been gone a lot since the funeral.”

“Well, yeah.”

The tiny Cate on the screen shoved herself away from a table and stood.

“Where are you going?” you asked.

“To your place. I’m staying until Captain Rogers gets home, and then I’m going to punch him in the face until he takes you back.”

A thrill of fear flashed up your spine. You weren’t quite sure why. Cate would do it, that you understood, but she couldn’t do much to hurt Steve. He knew better than to fight back against normal people, too, so your sister wasn’t likely to get hurt either. Perhaps it was just that…

“If Steve leaves me, he leaves me. I don’t want to cause him more pain than I already have.”

Her expression softened. “You’re in pain, too, [Name]. He’s not the only one that lost a daughter.”

“I know, but—”

“Excuse me.”

You let out a sharp gasp as you whirled to face the kitchen entrance. So focused on Cate had you been that you hadn’t heard Steve come inside. He wore his uniform, sans helmet. A nasty collection of bruises and cuts marred his face. No words passed between you, then:

“Oh, hey, Cap!” Cate chirped from the phone on the counter behind you.

Without breaking eye contact, you reached for the end call button. “I’ll talk to you later, Cate,” you said before pressing it.

Silence rang throughout the room. The way Steve looked at you, you knew you were in trouble. He’d heard most—if not all—of your discussion with your sister. Sure enough, when he finally spoke, it was to say:

“You thought I left you.”

You resisted the urge to flinch like a kicked puppy. “What was I supposed to think?”

“That I had an important mission come up.”

“An important mission you couldn’t tell me about? On your week off?”

“It’s happened before.”

“Not like this.”

“When we got married, you knew—”

“I called you!” you said loudly. “I called you I don’t know how many times. I called Bucky and Sam and Tony. Tony, Steve, because I didn’t know where you were. I know you’re mad at me, but Jesus! You can’t just vanish on me like that!”

It was the longest tirade you’d ever spoke against him. Though you both fought like any other couple, most of the time your arguments were brief. Once you’d said your piece, you cooled off. Steve looked thunderstruck by your rant.

“Since when I have been mad at you?” he asked.

“Don’t play dumb. Ever since Maggie—ever since my procedure, you’ve been acting all weird. You hardly talk to me. You work all the time. You left me here with Bucky right after. And then this morning you disappeared without so much as a goodbye. You could have died on this so-called important mission! So tell me what I was supposed to think, Steve, if you haven’t decided to divorce me?”

All the tears left unshed over this treatment rushed to your throat and constricted your voice. You squeezed your eyes shut and turned away from him. Maybe you ought to let Cate rough him up a little, if he was only going to—

“I’m sorry.”

“Huh?”

Gentle hands turned you away from the cutting board. Then Steve’s strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you into a hug. He smelled awful, like blood and exhaust. Even so, you did not pull away. His sorrowful gaze kept you in place.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’m sorry that I’ve been distant. It’s not you. I’ve just lost so many people that losing Maggie, too…it hurt. And there was no one to punish for it. When Tony called last night about an emergency, I didn’t hesitate to suit up. I thought punching the crap out of something might make me feel a little better.”

“You should have left me a note.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry about that, too.”

Even stinking to high Heaven, Steve’s closeness soothed your frazzled nerves. He didn’t lie to anyone, especially not to you. Shuddering, you peered up at him and in a small voice said:

“So you don’t hate me for having the abortion?”

“No. I think you made the right choice.”

“You do?”

“Maggie was going to die anyway. At least this way, we didn’t have to wait five more months to watch her do so. I just…I miss her so much.”

You stood on your tiptoes to carefully kiss Steve’s split lips. “I miss her, too. I always will.”

“But just to be clear,” he said, “I’ll always love you. Kids or no kids, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. There’s no way I’ll ever divorce you, because I want to spend the rest of my life with you and nobody else.”

“Not even Bucky?” You lifted a brow.

Steve chuckled. “Well, I’d prefer if he was always close by, but I still love you more.”

“I love you, too. Now,” you pushed him back, “why don’t you go clean up while I finish this salad?”

He prevented you from returning to your vegetable chopping. “I’ve got a better idea,” he said in response to your questioning look. “Why don’t you join me in the shower, and we’ll make dinner together afterward?”

With an offer like that, how could you refuse?

#fan fic #straw writes #reader insert #second person pov #where gods do fear to tread #challenge fic #pregnancy fic #avengers #marvel #mcu #captain america #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america x y/n #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers x y/n #mcu x you #mcu x y/n #mcu x reader #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel x y/n

[doctorthreephds]

Synapses: Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 4.8k

TW: Mentions of death and drugs--specifically from the episode Demonology

A/N: Hey! Just a forewarning, the forensic techniques in this are complete speculation from what I know and they are probably not accurate at all. 

Summary: After starting your new job and getting closer to Spencer, you find yourself having your first fight with your new friend when the anniversary of your mother’s death approaches. 

Masterlist

Taglist: @obsssedwithjustaboutanything​ @green-intervention​ @eevee0722​

Starting your new job was hard, like all things, but enjoyable. The first few days were learning the ropes and the area and you often came home exhausted, tired from a long day’s work in a lab you were unfamiliar with. The little things were what kept you going. Every day, you made an effort to eat lunch with your father--leftovers or food to go from a nearby restaurant or deli. When your father went away on his case, you spent time with Penelope in her bat cave. It was fun to hang out with her, spouting comedic rhetoric whenever someone called her for advice.

“Please don’t eat near the merchandise, baby, it’s my money maker,” she states, typing away at the speed of light as someone rings in. “Information highway speaking, you’re on speaker with me and the good doctor.”

You snort and let out a small laugh as you silently dig into your takeout box of chow mein.

“The good doctor? I thought that was me,” you hear Spencer speak up from the phone and smile, lifting your chopsticks to your mouth.  

“You’ve been replaced, Dr. Reid. Sorry!” you say before taking another bite of the noodles.

“What are you doing--”

“Stay on track, boy genius. What do you need from me?” Penelope asks and you zone out, not wanting to listen into the details of the gruesome murders they were investigating. While your job sometimes involved dead bodies, you were in fact eating lunch and wanted to keep your lunch down for the rest of the day. After they were finished, you could hear them wrapping up and you inserted a final goodbye.

“Bye Spencer! I’ll see you soon,” you state as the phone beeps to signal that the call has ended. 

“See him soon?” Penelope spins around as she fiddles with a pink pen with a puffball on the end that almost matches the pink blush on your face. 

“I mean I’ll see him when the case ends,” you mumble and toss your takeout box into her trash, taking a sip from your water bottle.

“Hm, I’m sure that’s what you meant,” she smiles and turns back to her computer, typing something up. “If you need any info on him, I can tell you anything you want to know, sweets.”

“I’m not gonna do that, it’s an invasion of privacy,” you stand and check your watch, it’s about time for you to get back to work. “But if anything comes up, I’ll let you know.”

Other times, when your father was too busy to entertain you, you would eat with the others--or more specifically, Spencer. Travelling up to the sixth floor, you check to see if Spencer is anywhere nearby. When you deduce that he is nowhere near, his plush office chair becomes your new home as you open up your bag and grab the tupperware full of salad while you wait for his arrival. Opening the small container, you poke at the leaves with your fork and make a face when you see that they’re soggy and limp.

“Have a salad today?” he asks as you look at the sad lettuce in your small tupperware container. 

“Yeah. Although, it doesn’t look very appetizing,” you state and put it down on his desk, looking up at the cup of coffee in his hand that looked far more delicious than the monstrosity that was sad salad. 

“Did you know that salad comes from the latin word ‘herba salta’ which means ‘salted herbs,’ so perhaps you don’t have enough salt on your herbs,” he states and you bark out a laugh, shaking your head as you close the container and put it away. 

“Any more salt and my blood pressure’s gonna be at risk. Wanna grab lunch at the deli?” you ask and stand. He nods as the two of you exit the bullpen, taking the elevator down.

This was your schedule, and you loved it. It didn’t take that long for you to build a good relationship with everyone, constantly checking in on their lives outside of Quantico. Emily was doing well with Sergio, Henry was growing at a rate that JJ couldn’t comprehend, Penelope was still going out with Kevin, and you and Spencer were often found hanging out on the weekends when he wasn’t called away for a case. 

You found it odd how easily you took to Spencer, how his fun facts were always there to brighten up every conversation and his constant pursuit of knowledge was admirable. He took you to his favorite bookstore as well as his favorite used bookstore that he frequented in hopes of finding first editions and original copies. He also would take you to his favorite park, the one that he went to so that he could play chess and he would always win. It wasn’t always about him, though, you loved taking him to go see new movies as opposed to the older and foreign ones that he enjoyed. The two of you also committed to trying new foods together. With his sensory issues and your picky nature, you both embarked on a journey to eat new foods in hopes of finding something new and delicious.

While your new found friendship was almost perfect in the way that you committed yourselves, it too could not come without ups and downs. The first bump came when you helped consult on an unofficial case, something that had happened with Emily’s close friends. It was only a few days before the anniversary for your mother’s death and you were running on fumes.

“Hello?” you ask sharply, pouring over several reports that were due soon. Your temper was short today and you just wanted to go home.

“Hey it’s Spencer. Are you okay?” he asks and you sigh, rubbing your temples in frustration.

“Yeah, I’m fine. What do you need?” you sit back in your chair and take a sip of your coffee, attempting to quell your anxieties while he speaks.

“I’m not at Quantico right now, I’m at a victim’s house. His name is Thomas Valentine and he died of dehydration but Emily believes there’s foul play. I’ll have Garcia send over his tox reports along with Matthew Benton’s to see if the pathologist missed anything. We’re on our way back so feel free to meet us upstairs when we debrief,” he says and you nod, writing down the information on a stray post-it note so that you don’t forget. “By the way, your dad says ‘hi.’”

“Tell him I say ‘hi’ back. I’ll meet you upstairs,” you state and hang up the phone, sighing as you run your hands through your hair to release some nervous energy. It was only a few more days and you would be on your day off, it was only a few days until you would be able to visit your mom again.

Just as if she heard it from five floors up, you receive an email from Penelope with the toxicology reports from both victims. A quick skim shows that there is a lack of intense scrutiny due to the simple cause of death. But, if Emily and Spencer believe otherwise then it was in your best interest to assume so as well. Looking into Matthew Benton’s report, there was evidence of long-term methamphetamine abuse which could contribute to the death but nothing out of the ordinary. It was only midday and you were running out of steam but your friends needed you so you had to pull it together.

After printing out all the information you have and stashing it in a folder, you make your way up to the bullpen and watch people rushing around. The busyness and chatter made you a bit woozy but the sight of Spencer helped to ground out a bit. 

���Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t have to be here,” he frowns as he sees you approach and you shake your head.

“I’m fine, I just want to help out in any way I can,” you mumble and move past him toward the conference room where almost everyone was gathered. Once Hotch arrived, they began to pour over details and possibilities within this pseudo-case. 

Listening intently, you take note of the evidence as it is laid out for you, the scuff marks under the bed, the missionary church in Spain that the two victims had visited, the idea that each family had been highly religious. Years of going to church in France and D.C. were being brought back in an instant. 

“That sounds like an exorcism,” you blurt out and look up to see everyone staring at you. It was odd to hold their attention but you nestled down in your chair and continued to listen. 

“Look, I know the Bible just as well as anyone, but I also know there’s nothing more open to behavioral interpretation than religion,” Derek comments.

“Meaning what?” Emily asks, shaking her head.

“I think it’s dangerous for us to wanna find a connection between these deaths,” he states.

“Wait, was Thomas’ wife religious?” Emily frowns and looks around at your father. 

“She was concerned that he had been cursing God,” your father recalls as Spencer dives into an inference. 

“Exorcism ritual can take days to complete. It’s possible the stress induced could cause a heart attack, especially in someone with a history of drug abuse,” he explains and looks at you. 

“Definitely, drugs leave marks on your body that are irreversible unless you completely stop. It makes an impact on your hair growth, your skin, your heart, so it’s completely plausible. And it could explain how someone died of dehydration,” the facts fly so fast through your head as you try to connect the dots while you speak, your head spinning. Even a couple minutes in the conference room was overwhelming, you couldn’t imagine doing this all the time.  

“Guys, look, I’m willing to say that we might have an unsub who ritualizes killings as if they were exorcisms, maybe. But, right now, we don’t even know if we have a crime yet,” Derek voices his concerns and you slowly nod, thinking about how you could help to clear up any room for error. It was possible if you were able to look at the bodies and examine them that you may have the ability to try and see if there were any other traces of possible deadly substances. 

“Morgan’s right. We need to step back. Let me talk to someone before I have us all telling ghost stories,” your father suggests and everyone appears to take this as time to cool off and rethink any possibilities, standing and leaving the room to follow their own leads. Dread settles in your chest as you sit in the chair, looking down at the folder to find any piece of information that could help you come to a conclusion but the words were flying around in your head and you felt too sluggish to do anything. 

“Do you think that you can get me the victim’s clothing? Perhaps something was done to them topically that would explain their deaths further,” you stand and sigh, already dreading going back to your reports. 

“Yeah, sure. It’ll be our lunch break,” he says and smiles. While his smiles usually have the power to brighten your entire day, your sour mood only extinguished any fire of joy inside your body.

“I have too much to do, just go on without me,” you respond and begin walking out of the conference room. You can already feel Spencer’s pestering bubbling up and wanting to know what’s wrong but you didn’t have the heart to tell him.

“Are you sure? Studies have shown that taking breaks help boost blood flow and information retention--”

“I’m sure, Spencer,” you snap and continue walking toward the elevators before he reaches out and grabs your arm to stop you.

“What’s going on? Are you mad at me?” he asks.

“God, I’m fine Spencer! Stop babying me, you’re not my dad,” all the emotion that had been building up in the morning spilled out in anger and your heart shattered to see Spencer so confused and sad. “I’m sorry.”

Stepping into the elevator, you press the button to go down and watch the doors close in front of you, not looking anywhere in the direction of Spencer. The fluorescent lights above you suddenly look far too bright and tears well in your eyes. What would your mother say if she could see you now? Would she be disappointed? Would she be angry? A vibration in your pocket breaks you out of the self-loathing spiral.

From Dad (12:24PM):

I think you just about broke this kid’s heart.

To Dad (12:25PM):

I didn’t mean to. It’s just so close.

From Dad: (12:25PM):

Just tell him. He’ll understand.

To Dad (12:26PM):

I know. I love you.

As you sit at your desk and stare at the papers, your mind moves on autopilot to complete the rest of your tasks. With only two cups of coffee in your system, your head was starting to hurt and your focus was fizzing but when Spencer came back with a couple bags full of clothing to be processed, the guilt overpowered any feeling of fatigue.

“I brought the evidence. Just send the report to Garcia,” he states and drops the bag off at your desk before turning to leave. 

“Hey, Spencer?” he turns to look at you, his eyes narrowed as you speak. “I’m really sorry. I’m not feeling well.”

“I could have told you that, and I’m not even a medical doctor,” he mutters and sighs. The air between you is stale and you want to speak, but don’t know what to say.

“Do you want to stay and help me process the evidence? It’ll only take a little bit,” you ask, your voice small. He appears to ponder the thought before nodding and you smile, standing and taking the evidence over to one of your machines. This was where you thrived. While you worked in silence, it was comforting to have Spencer around, even if the two of you were still on rocky ground. 

You first started with isolating the fabric and the substances on the clothing. From there, you take them and test what they are to see if there are foreign substances that may have contributed to the deaths of Matthew Benton and Thomas Valentine. Processing goes quickly and you print out the report, frowning at the traces of nerve agent on the clothing.

“There’s sarin on their clothing,” you tell him and hand over the papers for him to read through. 

“Thanks,” he mutters and stands to leave. 

“Are we okay?” you ask him, watching him turn as you wrap your arms around your torso in a comforting way, warming your hands from the cold lab.

“Obviously not, if you’re not telling me something,” he puts down the folder and comes up to you, reaching out to take your hands. It was a bit of a shock, considering the fact that you knew he hated touching hands, but it was progress and it made your heart melt to think that he would feel safe enough to do so. “I know something’s wrong and I want to help you, but you’re not being honest with me.” 

“I just haven’t eaten, Spence. And I’m under the weather, which doesn’t help. I promise that I’ll be okay,” you tell him, staring up into his eyes and speaking with as much truth as you can. But it wasn’t convincing enough and he pulls away as if you just burned him.

“I guess you don’t trust me, then,” he mumbles and turns around, picking up the folder and getting into the elevator. As the doors close, he stares back at you like he was disappointed and it completely broke you. Fat tears roll down your cheeks as your chest bubbles with anxiety and sorrow. You find a seat at your desk and desperately try to wipe the tears away, breathing in deeply to calm yourself down. You were still at work and you still had work to do. 

Quickly, you dive back into your reports, writing them up as quickly as possible and pushing Spencer to the back of your mind. Before you know it, the end of the day comes and you’re out of the building and on the metro at record speed. The vibration of the wheels rolling over the tracks lulls you into a sense of security, distracting you from the pangs in your stomach. Without the distraction of work, your mind was able to wander.

Was it fair for you to hide this from Spencer? Why did you? Why did you need to keep this secret so badly?

Perhaps it was the years of being on your own after her death or the fact that showing sadness was opening yourself up to vulnerability and connection that you feared. Perhaps it was both, you didn’t have many friends in grad school and only talked to your dad once every blue moon. The thought of being a burden was unbearable, but losing Spencer was unfathomable. You could deal with a little bit of vulnerability if it meant getting your friend back. 

Your legs guide you home once you reach your stop and you reheat some rice and add some soy sauce to make something that is edible and that you can keep down without issue. After eating, you shower and head to bed, falling asleep the second that you hit the pillow. 

The next day, your alarm jars you out of a dreamless sleep, shaking you from a night that felt far too short. Your entire body was fatigued and your brain was a mess, but it was your last day at work before you got the day off. As you got ready and out the door, your phone was blowing up with information sent by Penelope and Emily. There was another death and they needed you to analyze the clothing of the third victim to confirm that nerve agent was being used to kill these men. 

One you reach the office, you sit down and begin writing as you await the evidence. If you worked quick enough and finished the reports, you would be able to go home early. The fog in your brain makes it hard to focus as you work on more write ups, the words barely forming sentences, but you force yourself to persevere through lunch. Late in the afternoon, Spencer appears again with the evidence bag you need to process.

“Just send the report to Penelope when you’re done,” he states and turns back around to get into the elevator but you stand and pipe up.

“Can we talk?” you ask, hoping and praying that he would let you speak. 

“I don’t know, can we? Because you seemed pretty adamant about keeping secrets from me last time we tried to talk,” he mumbles as he turns to look at you, his eyes dark and full of storm clouds. 

“I’m sorry,” you begin, trying to find the right words so that your thoughts form coherent sentences. “I’m bad at talking about what’s plaguing me. I’ve been alone for a long time, and I’m sorry. It’s not an excuse, I know, but it’s a start.”

You want to say ‘I’m sorry’ over and over, but it wasn’t an explanation and he deserved at least that.

“Tomorrow is the anniversary of my mother’s death,” his frown almost vanishes from his face as you speak which makes you feel a hint of encouragement to keep talking. “And I’ve always dealt with it alone. Maybe because I don’t let myself handle it any other way, but I hope that you’re able to understand. I’m sorry, Spencer.”

Staring down at the ground, you will the tears to stay in your eyes so that you can keep up some image of togetherness, but they fall as quickly as they form. Suddenly his arms are wrapped around you and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. This was him accepting your apology and you suddenly felt like you could breathe. You worm your arms around his torso and pull him close, allowing yourself to take in all of him. The smell of his cologne, the feeling of muscles as they squeeze you tight, the fact that his hands were intertwined behind your back and his head was settled on top of yours. 

“I’m sorry too,” he mumbles and you pull away slightly to look up at him. “You didn’t have to tell me that.”

He pauses as he also stumbles over his words.

“But, I’m glad you did.”

You let out a sigh and hug him tight again, wanting to memorize the way his arms felt around you. After another long hug, you pull away and wipe your nose, shaking your head as you look over at the evidence bag. 

“I’m sorry, Patrick. I’ll get to processing your clothes now,” you mumble and let out a light laugh as you wash your hands and ready the evidence, processing the substances on his clothing. Beside you, Spencer leans against the wall and watches silently. It’s a bit nerve wracking to have someone watching you the way that he does, with bright eyes and attentive body language, but you do your best to explain it to him as the machine brings up the results. 

“Nerve agent, it’s sarin,” you turn to him. “Go tell them.”

He nods and picks up the newly printed report.

“I’ll come get you afterward,” he promises. “We can ride the train together.”

“There’s no need, I’m going home now. Just text me,” you smile up at him as he nods and takes your hand, squeezing it one last time before leaving.

You feel lighter now, like you lifted a rock off your chest. It was a burden, keeping secrets, but now you could feel a little bit better. After writing up all the procedural stuff on how you processed the evidence, you pack your bag and head to the metro. When you’re on the train, you get a text from Spencer telling him that they caught the priest and he was being deported back to Italy. 

To Spencer (7:45PM):

I’m glad.

From Spencer (8:01PM):

Do you want me to come over?

To Spencer (8:02PM):

No, it’s okay. I’ll be okay.

When you finally arrive at your stop, you easily find your way home. There was still sadness lingering, it was getting to be that time, but you had Spencer and that was enough. Getting home and getting to bed is a quick ordeal after you eat something and drink way too much wine to try and drown your sorrows and quiet your mind. The same days every year, you take a couple off so that you can mourn the loss of your mother and visit her grave. It was almost like a way to pretend that she was alive, even if just for a day. You had a lot to tell her after everything that’s happened, but it still didn’t help the fact that she was gone forever. 

Waking up the next morning is rough, it feels like a train plowed into you after a night of tears shed and one too many glasses of wine as you reminisced. Looking at your phone on this bright Friday morning, you see that you’ve managed to sleep in pretty significantly, but at least it was still technically morning. Waiting for you are a text from your father and a text from Spencer.

From Dad (6:00AM): 

Chin up, tesoro. Your mother loved you very much, she would be proud of everything you accomplished. 

From Spencer (7:02AM):

Do you want to get dinner after work?

From Spencer (7:34AM):

Where are you?

From Spencer (8:01AM):

Let me know what I can do.

The blanket of isolation took over you as you slowly began your morning routine, slowly being the key word. While Spencer knew, you didn’t know what to do now. This was uncharted territory for you and while you knew you weren’t alone, you had also never mourned with another person besides time spent at your mother’s funeral. Perhaps another year, another time. He was only just your friend. 

After you throw on comfy clothes and brush your teeth, you put your hair up so that it’s out of your face and eat some cereal--something easy and virtually effortless. Once you finish, you make a mental note of what you’re going to pick up at the store before heading to the cemetery to spend time with your mom. Throwing on a coat and slinging your bag over your shoulder, you punch in the security code and open the door to see Spencer there.

“Spencer? What are you doing here, it’s only like two,” you frown and close your apartment door behind you, locking it with your keys.

“I finished up all my paperwork so I took a half day and I wanted to cheer you up,” he states as you look up at him. “Maybe we can watch some Star Wars or that vampire movie you always talk about.”

“I’m going to visit my mom,” you tell him.

“Oh, sorry, I’ll go then,” he says and begins to turn and walk away but you pipe up before he can get too far.

“Why don’t you come with me?” you ask. He was already here and he wanted to help you feel better. His presence alone was grounding, reminding you of what you had and not of what you lost. 

“Are you sure?” he asks and you nod, walking up next to him.

“She would have loved you,” you almost reach out and take his hand before you realize what you’re about to do. “Can--Can I hold your hand?”

You’re almost positive he’s going to say no. After all, you know he has issues with germs and sensory issues, the day before being a special occasion because you had broken down crying in front of him. But, when he nods and holds out his hand, you feel your heart flutter. The two of you make your way downstairs in a comfortable silence and the warmth of Spencer’s hand in yours is comforting. As you exit the elevator and make your way out onto the street, the cold D.C. air is refreshing.

Together you walk to the local grocery store to grab some food and flowers, daffodils, which were your mother’s favorite. After, you ride the metro down near the cemetery. This whole time, the presence of Spencer is enough to distract you from the ever present cloud looming over your head, but when you finally walk through the cemetery’s gate, all hell breaks loose. 

When Spencer hears you sob, he instantly wraps his arms around you. The floodgates open and you softly sob into his chest, your arms wrapped around him in a vice. Your heart hurts, you miss your mother. She should have been alive to see all the accomplishments, to see your wedding and your second graduation. It’s times like these where you wonder if anything could have been done, if you could have seen the symptoms sooner or if you could have found another doctor, but your father always reminds you that you did everything in your power to help her and that she would have been proud of the person you were today. 

Once your sobs subside, you sniffle and pull away to wipe your nose. 

“Sorry for crying on you,” you huff out a small laugh and try to wipe away some of the snot that got on him while you cried.

“It’s okay, I understand,” he says and you sit down on the blanket, Spencer sitting next to you and helping to lay out the food. 

“Hey mom,” your voice breaks a little and you clear your throat before turning to Spencer. “This is Spencer and he works with dad. He’s my best friend.”

You smile at him as he turns and waves at her headstone. The notion is so heartwarming that you feel the tears rise up again.

“Hi Ms. Montgomery, your daughter is one of the best people I know,” he says as you begin to eat cheese and crackers from the charcuterie board.

“He works in the same building I do, I got the job at Quantico. I know that FBI agents and you don’t mix very well but I enjoy my job and they have all these new machines for me to play with,” you lay your head on Spencer’s shoulder and continue talking as he wraps an arm around you instinctively. As the two of you sit there and pick at the food, continuing to talk about your mom and your fondest memories, there’s a part of you that wishes it could be like this always. Maybe you didn’t have to always hide your sadness and spend it in isolation. And just maybe, there was always a rainbow after a storm.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jj #jennifer jareau #david rossi #penelope garcia

[nicb0723]

Find Your Worth

John Wick x Reader

Summary: You meet John in an unconventional way.

A/N: Marcus is alive

Word Count: 12,357

Read Chapter 1

Read Chapter 2

Chapter 3

**

The next shift you work Officer Saunders stops in and introduces himself as Jimmy. He’s the same officer friend John did the favor for that fateful day and he’s also the officer who helped you get Max put away. What are the odds?

“He hasn’t come around or anything, right?”

You’re stocking the medicine section and squating on the floor, so you have to keep looking up as Jimmy keeps asking you questions. “No, sir. I haven’t heard anything from him. I actually heard he’s in rehab, so that’s good?”

“You hear that from John?”

“Yep. Don’t ask me how he found out.”

Jimmy smirks and adjusts his police cap on his head. “John knows a lot about everything it seems.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s kind of annoying.”

He laughs and helps you up when you’re finished with the last box. “I can see why John likes you, you tell it like it is.”

Smiling, you walk behind the counter to start on the schedule for next week. “Yeah? I probably annoy him too then.”

“Hmm, not the way he tells it. I’ve never seen him--” Jimmy gets cut off when his radio beeps loudly and he has to go. Before he leaves he tells you to give him a call if anything comes up, and you wonder what he was going to say. 

**

A few days later John wants to take you out to celebrate your promotion, but you tell him that the movie and sushi were plenty, but thank you anyway. He goes silent until he shows up at the gas station a few hours later.

“Hey!” You greet him with a warm smile. You secretly love it when he surprises you at work. “What’re you doing here?” John is wearing a suit again and you instinctively reach to his forehead where there’s a cut and bruise forming. “What happened? Are you okay?”

He grabs your hand before you can touch his sensitive skin. “I’m fine, just work.”

“Oh.” You hadn’t realized he had a job since you saw him last. He kept texting you every day like usual and didn’t mention it. For some reason it hurts your feelings, that he would keep something from you. “You didn’t tell me you were working.”

“It was quick. Didn’t even have to leave town. In and out.” 

“Oh.” You don’t really know what to say. “Okay.”

He’s still holding on to your hand and he’s just looking at you with a small grin.

“What’s that look for?”

“I mean, maybe my face does hurt a little.”

“Really?” You’re instantly concerned. “You want me to look at it? Do you want some aspirin or something?”

Slowly, he shakes his head, looking at you intently. “I think we know what the best remedy is for a bruise. How’s your foot?”

You realize that he wants a kiss and push him gently away. “John, stop. I was seriously worried.”

He laughs at your innocence and bows his head for forgiveness, but he’s still smiling. 

“Is that all you came here for?” You ask, bored of his antics but really it’s all just an act. You still get the butterflies.

“Well, no, Miss Assistant Manager, I really do want to take you out to celebrate.”

You sigh loudly. “I thought we already talked about this.”

“No, you talked about it.” John follows you up to the counter when the bell dings, signaling a customer came in. You quickly ring the couple up and they’re on their way back to a van full of screaming kids. John keeps himself busy looking at the magazine rack until you’re done.

“I have a feeling you won’t take no for an answer?”

He gives you the most pitiful expression, making you feel guilty. “If you want me to be sad, I’ll take the no.”

“Fine, John. But I have to work the next few days and I don’t really feel like going out.”

“I can cook. Just come over after your shift tomorrow.”

You give him a doubtful look. “You’ll cook or order take out?”

“I can cook… do you like grilled cheese?”

Laughing, you lean against the counter and smile. “Actually, that sounds good. Want me to bring anything?”

“Nope. I got this.” He tells you confidently. His phone beeps and he briefly looks at it. “I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I might be tired and grumpy after my shift, just warning you.”

He’s looking at you like he wants to do something, maybe give you a hug or tuck your hair behind your ear. He doesn’t though and starts to step towards the door. “I like a good challenge. You remember where I live?”

“Yes, I remember.” 

“Text me when you get home tonight.”

“Okay.” You never do and that just makes him frustrated until he texts you first, about thirty minutes after he knows your shift is over. He’s done it every night since going to the movie. You know he still has the motion detectors cameras on his phone so instead, you just wave at the cameras. 

Still though, it makes you feel special.

**

You end up bringing some homemade cookies you had time to bake since you didn’t have to be at work until eleven this morning. You got off at seven and the day had dragged on. Around seven thirty you get to John’s house, lit up and inviting. 

When you walk in you can’t mistake the smell of scented candles in the air. You try to hide a smile when you see John in the kitchen and he has on an apron, busy with whatever he’s making. He doesn't hear you until the dog makes a scene and demands your attention, wagging his tail and almost knocking you over. 

You gladly give it to him after putting the cookies on the counter and kneel on the floor, petting him and giving smooches. 

“Pooch! Off!”

The dog immediately obeys and runs towards John. 

“Can’t a girl get some love around here?” You ask, setting your purse down. You wore your tight jeans and took off your sweater in the car, leaving you in a black tank top. Usually you don’t show this much skin, but it’s hot out today and the air is broken at work.

John is good about not staring for too long, but he definitely notices. “No. I’m jealous.”

You walk towards him and open your arms for a hug. It’s the least you can do. “Hi. Thank you for making me dinner.”

His smile is worth the slightly awkward hug, which you have to stand on your tiptoes for. His hands are careful on your back, like you’re made of glass.

“How was your day?” He asks, pulling out a stool for you to sit and keep him company. 

“Long. Boring. I’m only slightly grumpy and tired.”

He grabs some white wine. “I think I can help with that. Or would you rather something else?”

“No, that’s perfect. Thank you. How was your day?” You don’t drink much wine, never really being able to afford it, but you can tell this bottle is expensive. It’s smooth and crisp, and it does make you relax.

“A little busy, actually. I have to go out of town next week for work.”

“Oh really?” You’re glad he’s telling you about a job this time. You don’t think a lot of people get to know about John Wick’s life and you like that he includes you in it. “Where are you going? Or maybe you can’t tell me?”

He’s focused on chopping lettuce. “California, probably San Francisco but the target might move.”

“Do you get to have any fun after you’re… done? Like, explore the city or anything?”

John shrugs and moves on to slice a tomato. “It’s not really a vacation. And I’d like to get home.”

“You probably want to rest, right?” You don’t mention that he might have to heal too, from the looks of quick jobs John has had, you can’t imagine how he’d come home after a job that lasts a few days. The bruise on his forehead has faded a little, and the cut is small but deep.

“Yeah. And lately I have things to look forward to now.” He glances to Pooch and then to you.

You’re getting really good at dodging his comments. “Do you want me to watch him while you’re gone? I’d be happy to.”

“I already promised Cassey, but thanks for offering.”

“Okay, just know the offer is always there.” You’re only a little disappointed. You like being able to help John out, especially after everything he’s done for you. 

He smiles brightly and grabs a plate of steaks you hadn’t seen, but you were wondering what that great smell lingering in the kitchen was. “Are you hungry?”

“No grilled cheese?”

“I was joking, I can at least grill some meat for you.”

You clutch your heart and head over to the table, first grabbing the bowl of vegetables he was slicing up. “My prince charming.” 

He laughs and gets the glasses of wine he had poured. This is perfect. It’s not fancy, but it’s really nice and you can tell he put in some effort. Both of you slide into chairs and he picks up his glass to clink it with yours. “Congratulations on your promotion. You deserve it.”

You blush and smile. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do all of this. We should have just gone out.”

“Nonsense.” He says and starts in on his salad. “I agree with you, this is better than sitting in a restaurant.”

You take a bite of your steak and moan. “This is so good. I can’t remember the last time someone cooked for me. I ate out all the time when grandma was in the hospital. This is a great treat.”

He puts his fork down and only hesitates a little, meaning another comment is about to come. “You know if you lived here, we could do this all the time.” 

Avoid and deflect, your new strategy. “So, San Francisco, huh? Have you ever been there before?”

He just shakes his head as usual at the way you change the subject. It seems you both are catching on to each other. “A few times. The food there is good. I don’t really leave the hotel much besides for work.”

“Do you ever get nervous, like before doing… whatever it is you’ll do?”

He takes a sip of wine. “Not anymore. I used to though. But now I do research, prepare, and survey first so I know what I’m walking into.”

You’re very intrigued. This is all so interesting. “How did you get started? I mean… was this what you wanted to do?” That would be really weird if John did choose this life. Choose to kill people. You don’t know if you can still hang out with him if he says yes.

“No, no… not at all. It’s actually a really long story. So is how I tried to get out.”

You look at him thoughtfully. “Sucks being good at something that you hate, hmm?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Okay, just one more question and I’m done.”

John smiles and tells you to go ahead.

“Is it a natural talent or did you have to train?”

“Both. I went to an assassin school. In Russia.” He shifts in his chair, and you can tell he’s wondering if he’s telling you too much. “And Italy.”

Your eyes widen. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s what you could call it.”

Wow. You had no idea something like that would even exist. “It’s like something out of a movie.” 

He laughs softly. “I wish it was just a movie sometimes.”

“Well, if it were a movie you wouldn’t be sitting here with me eating this delicious steak.”

“That’s true. Are you sure it’s good?”

“Mmm.” You say with your mouth full and after you swallow, “Positive.” 

Both of you continue to eat and when you’re almost done John asks, “Did I see some cookies on the counter?” 

You nod and tell him not to judge. “I haven’t baked in a long time.”

“No judgement,” John agrees. “Do you think you can stay awhile and we can watch a movie or something?”

“Yeah, I don’t have to be at work until late afternoon.” You stand to help clear the dishes. When John starts to protest you tell him to stop it and you’re helping. 

The kitchen gets cleaned up fast and both of you fall on to the couch easily. You both had busy days and both of you are tired, so the TV is low and something is on, but you’re not really paying attention. After John gets up to let the dog out and grab some cookies, he sits closer to you. 

You side eye him suspiciously, but he just breaks a cookie in half and offers it to you. 

“Hey! Not bad,” You’re impressed with yourself yet again. 

“I would pay you to make these for me.” John says seriously. 

You elbow him in the side. “Just tell me when you want a batch and you got it.”

“Score.” He quietly celebrates a victory which makes you giggle. 

Before you know it, he’s covering you up with a blanket and turning the TV off. You must’ve fallen asleep because you’re completely stretched out on the couch and it’s incredibly comfortable.

You don’t want to get up but instead you yawn and mumble, “I should go home.” 

John kneels down beside the couch and you can feel a fingertip brush the hair out of your face. “It’s too late for you to drive.” He whispers softly. “You want to sleep in the bed? I can sleep down here.”

You don’t open your eyes and hope that he keeps touching you. “No, this is so good.” You tell him sleepily. “Are you sure you don’t mind? I can leave. I’m sorry I fell asleep.”

“Don’t apologize.” His voice is still soft, and so is the touch of his thumb against your cheek. “Of course I don’t mind. Just come upstairs if you get uncomfortable, okay?”

“Mm’kay.” You wait for him to gather the dog and turn off all the lights except one in the kitchen before he goes upstairs. Then you hear the sounds of the water running as he washes up and footsteps towards his bed. You weren’t lying, the couch is very comfortable but your jeans are not and you wiggle out of them, leaving you in boyshorts underwear and thin tank top. You slide out of your bra too, and toss your clothes in a pile on the floor. You figure you’ll sleep for a few more hours and then head home, before John will see you in the morning. 

You sleep hard for a while and the sound of whining startles you awake. Pooch is crying, his snout practically in your face and you sit up, trying to figure out where the hell you are. You eventually recognize the living room and assume he has to go outside, so you tip toe towards the sliding glass door and open it for him. He doesn’t go out and cries some more, staring at you and walking in between your legs, bumping at your knees. 

“What do you want? Food? Money?” You whisper and he starts up the steps towards upstairs, turning around to look at you again. He’s waiting for you to follow him? And then you hear a bang, like something heavy fell on the floor above. You hear John grunt and it doesn’t sound good at all. 

Rushing past the dog, you run up the stairs as fast as you can without falling. There’s hardly any light but you can make out shapes of furniture as you start to wake up.  “John! Are you okay?” You whisper loudly because what if he’s just fine? You’re probably panicking for no reason. He doesn’t answer though and you find him sitting on the floor, his back leaning against his bed. 

“What’re you doing down here?” You run your palm over his forehead and push his hair from his eyes. He’s sweating and clammy. He must be running a fever. “John, are you sick?”

“I don’t know.” He finally answers, and he’s holding the side of his stomach. “I think… I think it’s my appendix.”

You reach to turn on the lamp on the bed side table and you both squint at the sudden brightness. “Are you sure? Let’s get you back into bed.” He’s really heavy and you’re probably not helping very much, but he does manage to lay back down, hand still clutching his side. 

You sit on the bed, pushing up his t-shirt and pulling away his hand. “I don’t see anything.” Running your hand down his stomach, you notice it is a little swollen. It’s usually flat and slim under his tight t-shirts. Not that you’ve been looking or anything…

You also see a smatter of scars across his skin, a long jagged one under his belly button that probably came from a fight and from the looks of it, John is lucky to be alive. You stare for a little too long until he groans softly. 

And damn. He’s holding his right side. 

“Okay, no problem.” You tell him calmly, trying to get him to look at you instead of squeezing his eyes shut from pain.  “I’m just gonna drive you to the hospital and they’ll fix you all up.”

“I usually avoid hospitals.” He breathes out, finally looking at you. “What’re you wearing?”

Oh God. You look down at yourself and your tank top is not really covering anything up, especially as you’re leaning over and your legs are bare, underwear completely on display. You quickly situate yourself the best you can. “Um, I got comfortable. And that’s not really important right now.”

John leans back on the pillow and whimpers again, but this time not because of the pain. “I can’t believe the first time you’re in my bed and I feel like I’m gonna throw up.”

“Alright here we go.” You ignore him and start running around his room, not caring you’re just in underwear right now. “We gotta get you some pants and some shoes and your wallet. What else…” Talking to yourself helps calm your nerves and eventually, after opening his huge closet and most of the dresser drawers, you find some sweatpants and slippers he can wear.  “Okay, we gotta get you downstairs. Are you ready to walk?” 

John looks you up and down again, his face flushing and he grumbles. “Yeah, I’ve had much worse than this.” He has to stop a few times down the stairs though to breathe, waiting out the sharp pains until they dull enough so he can keep going.

You put his arm around your shoulders and your arm around his hips and the both of you go slow and steady. “Good job! You’re doing great. We’re almost there. Do you know where your wallet is?” Your voice is high and squeaky but you can’t help it. You know you need to hurry so his appendix doesn’t burst. 

“It’s in the bowl.”

You find it quickly and leave him to lean on the couch while you shuffle back into your jeans and turn around so you can slip your bra back on.  You find your shoes by the other side of the couch and realize John must have taken them off for you. That was sweet. “Okay, purse. I just need my purse and then we can go. Oh and my keys.” You walk back into the kitchen and find all of your stuff and rush back to John, who is walking slowly towards the closet.

“Here, wear my jacket. You’ll freeze.”

You slip the suit jacket on and smell John all around you. It’s so good. Focus. “I have your phone, do you need anything else?”

“We’re taking my car.” 

“You can’t drive!”

John just looks at you, sweaty hair falling in his eyes. “You can drive my car.”

“Umm… No, I don’t think so.”

“C’mon, let’s go.” John uses the wall to steady himself until you catch up to him, circling your arm carefully around his waist to help. You realize his whole body is shaking. 

“John, I can’t drive your car, what if I crash it?”

“You won’t.”

You feel bad for arguing with him when he’s sick, so you don’t say anything else and guide him gently to sit down in the passenger seat. You lean over to put his seatbelt on and you swear he smells your hair.

“Okay, I can totally do this. Where the hell am I going?” You ask as you press the button to open the garage door and start the car. John finds his phone that was in your purse and turns on Maps. 

“If I do go to the hospital, this is where I go.”

You put his phone where you can see it and the hospital is actually pretty close, only about a ten minute drive. “When did you have to go to the hospital last?”

He looks very uncomfortable and stiff so you reach over and grab his hand. He quickly threads his fingers through yours and leans back a little. “Uh, I got shot on a job and drove three hours.”

You try not to seem horrified. “Why didn’t you stop somewhere else?”

“I thought I could get the bullet out myself.”

Perfectly reasonable you think to yourself, sarcastically.  “You couldn’t do it?”

John whimpers when you drive over a few bumps, but otherwise this car is a smooth ride. “There was too much blood and I also sprained my wrist, so I couldn't get a good grip.”

“Is this worse than being shot?” You ask, trying to keep him distracted. 

“Neither are fun.”

You bite at your lip as you concentrate on the road. There’s no traffic because it’s so late and the hospital is close. “You’ll probably go right into surgery. I’ll check in on Pooch, okay? Is there anything else you want me to do?”

“No.”

You’re surprised he agreed so quickly and glad he doesn’t give you a hard time about it. 

“Are you sure?”

There it is. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Okay well, just stay at the house. Use the garage door opener to get in and out. Eat whatever you want. You can stay in my room, don’t--” He grabs at his stomach and winces, “don’t sleep on the couch. And his food is in the laundry room and he likes to run around in the backyard.”

“Anything else?”

He squeezes your hand. “Thank you.”

“Of course, John.” You pull up to the emergency door and put the car in park. “Friends take care of each other, right?” 

The car door opens and you hurry around to help John get inside. You stay with him as long as you can, talk to the doctor, give the nurse your phone number so they can call you when he’s out of surgery, and try to fill out as much paperwork as you can. When it’s time for you to leave, you lean over John and press your palm to his beard. 

“It’ll be over before you know it, okay? I’ll be here when they’re done.”

John weakly smiles at you and they start to wheel him away.

All you can do is hope you got here in time and that everything goes okay.

**

The drive back to your apartment sure is different in John’s fancy car. You don’t really want to drive it more than you have to and just stop by quickly to pack a small bag with your medicine, some clean clothes, and your old laptop. 

You leave John’s suit jacket on the back of a kitchen chair. You like that there's something of his at your place. 

Back at John’s house it’s quiet. Not too quiet though. It’s peaceful here. The dog is plenty company and you nap in his bed just because if you didn’t, he’d probably know and never let you hear the end of it. It really is the best bed you’ve ever slept in. Never mind the fact it smells like John, the pillows are soft and the sheets expensive. Definitely not from Target, like your own.

The kitchen is spacious, but you don’t cook anything except some toast to go with your bowl of cereal. You do eat the rest of John’s fruit though, and remind yourself to stop at the store so he has some fresh food in the house when he gets home. The only thing you feel slightly guilty about is taking advantage of the amazing bathtub adjacent to his bedroom. He only has some shaving cream, soap, and shampoo so you don’t think you’re completely invading his space, but it still feels weird. 

The view really is fantastic and you drink coffee, just staring out the window for the longest time. You look over to the lake and think about that day. You can’t see the picnic table where you first met John and for that, you are grateful. You still know it’s there though, but what matters is that you are on a completely different side of it now. You think about living here and how things could be. The fantasy is quite compelling, but that’s really all it is. It’s fun to think about though.

You get anxious for John to be out of surgery and you can’t stop looking at your phone. To keep occupied you walk around his living room a few times, noticing something new each round. The old books on the coffee table, the candles in the corner, and Pooch’s toys here and there. You half expect to find piles of picture frames, but they’re gone. There are a few photos of Pooch on the refrigerator door, but that’s it. The house could easily be considered cold and empty, but somehow it’s not. 

You finally get a call that John is doing well and ready to go home. He’s pale when you enter his recovery room and you immediately go to his side. 

“Hey, you feeling better?”

“Mmm.” He mumbles, still sleepy from the drugs. “Good as new.”

“Are you ready to go home?”

He nods, his eyes blinking slowly and you listen as the nurse explains that he’s lucky he got here when he did because his appendix didn’t rupture and just had to be removed. John needs to rest, he can’t get the incision sight wet or dirty, drink a lot of fluids, and he can’t lift anything over ten pounds. You get the prescription for his pain pills and she leaves you to go get a wheelchair. 

You go downstairs to get the car and John sleeps the whole way home. 

Getting him in bed should be interesting, but he’s more stable than you thought he’d be. You don’t try the stairs though and instead put him on the couch, covering him up with a blanket and putting the dog outside for some quiet. 

“Do you need anything?” You ask, sitting on the edge of the couch and you rub his shoulder a little. 

“Just you, here with me. Thanks for staying.”

“Duh, I’m happy to.” You smile, and it’s so true. You owe John a million debts in favors and this is just the start. “I’m gonna run and get some food and your pain pills, okay? You’re just going to sleep for awhile.”

“You’ll come back?”

“I promise I’ll be right back.”

He takes your hand from his shoulder and kisses the back of it, pressing his warm lips to your skin. You would have gotten a flutter of butterflies, but he promptly falls asleep and you doubt he’ll even remember the gesture.

You let the dog back in and calm him down before you leave so John has company if he wakes up. The trip to the store is fast and you’re glad you had already packed a bag so you don’t have to stop at your place. It feels weird driving your own car again, but you can’t bring yourself to drive John’s now that you don’t need to, but the memory behind the wheel will always be there.

It’s starting to get dark when you arrive back at his house and you peek in the living room to see if he’s up. He’s petting Pooch and sitting with a pillow behind his back. 

“Hey, how’re you feeling?”

“I’m okay.”

You leave the bags of groceries on the counter, not being able to resist going to him. “You know, he came to wake me up last night.”

John looks surprised. “Really?”

“Yep, he saved you.”

“No,” John laughs softly. “You saved me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t here.”

“Drive yourself to the hospital?” You guess and he shrugs. Yeah, he would have. You point to his stomach and you can see the bandage through his white shirt. “You’re gonna have a scar.” 

“Yes, another one.” He sighs, but it’s not sad. It’s just a fact.

“Are you hungry? You must be. How about some soup?” You get up from the couch and pat Pooch on the head. John grabs your hand to keep you there. 

“Seriously, thank you.”

You roll your eyes and smile. “You would’ve done the same for me, right?” 

Ah, that seems to get at him, finally. He scoffs and lets your hand go. “Okay, you’re right. It is weird accepting help after all this time.”

“Told you.” You poke at his beard, where you think there’s a hidden dimple and head to the kitchen. “And it feels good to help you, so I get where you were coming from.” 

“Good.” He struggles to get up and you go back to his side. 

“What’re you doing?”

He holds his stomach and uses the couch to help him stand. “I have to use the restroom.”

“Oh,” You help him walk slowly down the hallway and the more he walks, the more balanced he becomes. You leave him to do his thing and turn on the stovetop, dumping the premade soup you had bought in a pot and turn the oven on to warm some bread. The kitchen is so nice and everything seems to be brand new, shiny stainless steel. 

John makes it to the kitchen all by himself and goes to the counter to sit down. You want to tell him he should probably go lay on the couch, but his color is coming back and he looks more awake.

“This is not how I planned the rest of our night going.” 

That makes you perk up. “And what exactly were you planning?”

“Well, not a trip to the hospital. Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

You shake your head and pull out a chair to sit by him. “I got my shifts covered for the next few days. Consider me your nurse, Mr. Wick.”

First shock and then heat crosses his face. “Are you sure? I feel terrible… but not enough to send you away.”

You laugh and get up to find some bowls. “It’s absolutely fine. I have a ton of vacation hours I didn’t even know I had. And all the high school kids want more hours before school starts. I can work on the schedules from my computer, so you have nothing to worry about.”

His eyes track your every movement, even when you open wrong drawers or cabinets, he never corrects you. He’s letting you find your own way and just watches you thoughtfully. “I’m gonna take you on a real vacation.” It almost sounds threatening. 

Smiling, you don’t say anything as you pour the soup and gather warm bread in a basket. “Bon appetit.” You tell him sarcastically. Grocery store soup is not the best, but it’s all you could come up with at the last minute.  He doesn’t eat a lot anyway and is quickly full after just a few bites. You bet he’ll be wanting some more food in a while, but all the drugs are still in his gut. 

He watches as you clean up, the same look in his eyes while you were making dinner, like he can’t believe you’re still here. You let him observe and do your own thing, getting Pooch some dinner too, fresh water and letting him out while you rinse off the dishes and put the rest of the groceries away. 

When you’re all done, you turn to him and ask if he wants to go to bed. 

“I think I’m gonna take a shower first.” He says, “I feel gross.”

“John, you can’t do that, remember?” You tell him, opening the glass door for Pooch to come back in for the night. “You can’t get your bandage wet.”

He groans in frustration. “Great.”

You lean over and pretend to smell his armpit. “You do stink,” and he instantly smells himself, glaring at you when he realizes you’re joking.

With the most pitiful look, he pouts. “Help?”

“What’d you want me to do? Give you a sponge bath?”

His spirit lifts and you haven’t seen him smile like this since yesterday. “Are you offering?”

You lean against the counter and stare at him. “Are you serious?”

“I think my appendix bursting is the best thing that ever happened to me.” He slowly gets off the chair and starts to head upstairs. 

“It didn’t burst!” You call out after him and start to turn out all the lights. You consider grabbing your overnight bag you had put in the living room. You can’t imagine not sleeping in the same room as John. What if he needed something? You get it and jog up the stairs. You find John in his bathroom, sitting on the closed toilet seat, waiting for you. “It did not burst.” You repeat, having a feeling that John is acting like this just to get attention but you doubt you’ll never know for sure. 

He pouts some more. “It felt like it did.”

“Ugh, fine. But I’m going into nurse mode, so no funny business.” You’re stern but you really have no idea what the hell you’re talking about. You decide to just pretend you do and go to his closet to get a bunch of towels. You lean into the shower and grab the soap and shampoo, then start the water in the sink to get it warm. He’s watching you here too, but his gaze is less intense and softer than you have ever seen before. “This might hurt, take your time.” You help him slowly take his shirt off, trying not to jostle his side, and throw it to the floor. 

Your breath catches in your lungs. This is the first time you’ve seen him up close without a shirt and the scars littered across his chest are in all different shapes and forms, some faded almost white while others still pink and fresh. You’re relieved when you see that they’re all closed up at least, and healing. You wonder if he stitched them himself or if he had help. 

He watches while you take in your fill and you get embarrassed. “I’m sorry,”

“It’s fine, I got to see most of you last night.” He teases. “This is only fair.”

Now you’re embarrassed for an entirely different reason and you can feel the burn on your cheeks. “I didn’t think you’d remember that.”

He smirks and blushes too. “I definitely remember.”

“Shut up,” You tell him, with no force and you grab a washcloth to get it wet and soapy. “Okay, you can probably do your front by yourself?”

He seems disappointed but takes the towel from you, quickly rubbing over his chest and arms, up his neck and face. You give him a fresh cloth with just warm water so he can wash the suds away. Motioning for him to turn sideways on the seat, you slide your fingers through his hair. “Do you want me to wash it?” 

“Mm.. maybe tomorrow?” His head is bent down and he seems to be almost swaying at your touch. 

You get the soapy towel from him and start on his shoulders, letting the water drip down his tattoos. “What does it mean?” You ask, tracing the ink, not being able to help yourself.

“Fortune favors the brave.” He answers and pauses. “I got it while I was in the Marines.”

That explains a lot. You notice the two crosses, the large one on his back and the other on his shoulder. You think back to the first day you met him, asking if he was religious and he didn’t answer you. The tattoos only add mystery and you don’t want to press him anymore, but it’s hard to look away. They’re captivating and your interest only increases when you start to count all the scars carved into his skin here too. 

You have to take a deep breath to get it together and quickly finish up. He probably thinks you're crazy for staring so long. 

“Do you want to put on a clean shirt?” You hand the wash cloth back to him so he can do whatever he needs on his lower body while you step out. 

“No, just some clean shorts. They’re in the top drawer.” 

You try not to look at his underwear and grab the first pair you see, then hand them to him. He hesitates before asking, “Can you sleep in the bed? Like we did at your place?”

“Yeah, of course.”  You see his shoulders relax as soon as you agree and he smiles. “I’ll get changed out here. You finish up and I’ll tuck you in.”

He’s beaming now, but you can see he’s starting to get tired. “Best nurse ever.”

You shut the door and get into your pajamas, another tank top but shorts this time, and pull back the covers. Pooch is sprawled out on his bed and you try to think of anything else you need before you lay down too. Crap. Quickly, you go back downstairs to get some water and his pain pills. When you get back, John is sliding under the sheets in just a pair of black boxer briefs. 

You don’t let the sight get to your head and set the glass by John, handing him a pill after. “Take this.”

He stares at it blankly and then smiles at you. “I’d rather have a kiss to make it feel better.”

That does get to your head and you're dizzy with affection. You don’t know how much longer you can keep up this game of cat and mouse with him. “Take it and we’ll see.”

Eagerly, the pill is swallowed and you crawl into bed, scooting close to where John lays very still. He looks very pleased with himself and you roll your eyes before gently kissing him on the forehead.

“There.” 

“I feel like my injury deserves at least two.” His voice is low and deliberate, but he’s teasing. You sigh, pretending to be annoyed, and give him a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek, right above his beard.

“Happy?”

He nods once and with reflexes you’re surprised are so fast, grabs your arm before you scoot away from him. “Thank you for staying.”

You put your head on his pillow, your nose rubbing against his shoulder back and forth. Carefully, you place your hand on his stomach above the bandage. “Does it hurt?”

He puts a hand on top of yours. “Less than a bullet, more than being stabbed.”

You grin against his skin. “Ah, I totally understand.”

“What are you going to go to school for?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re still taking classes in the fall, right?” He waits for you to nod. “Well what for?”

You hadn’t really given it much thought, knowing you’d have to take prerequisite courses before a decision had to be made at the community college. “I don’t know yet. Maybe business… why?”

“I was just thinking…” He turns his head to look at you. “You would make a really good nurse.”

You giggle softly and pull yourself away to turn off the light. “John, I can’t stand the sight of blood.”

“Oh…” 

The light switches off and you start to get comfortable. John pulls you towards him again and this time you protest. 

“I’m gonna bump you in the middle of the night.”

He doesn’t let go. “No, you won’t. It’ll make me feel better.”

The bed is big enough, but you lay next to him, planning to move away once the pill kicks in and he passes out. He surprises you though, by lifting his arm and scooping you even closer so you’re completely pressed into his side with his hand trailing down your back. 

“Sometimes I bleed a lot…”

It’s dark and you can’t see his face, but his body is really warm. “What?”

“After working… I’m usually bleeding somewhere.”

“Sounds like you need to get better at your job.”

“Haha.”

“John?”

“Hmm?”

“If you bleed on me, I will puke all over you.”

He yawns and presses his mouth to your forehead. “I can’t stand the sight of puke.”

You try not to because he’s falling asleep, but the irony makes you laugh. This would never work.

**

The next day you let John sleep while you make bagels and peanut butter. You cut up an apple too and decided on tea instead of coffee, which you’re sure he’ll be mad about. 

You’re right. He is grumpy and until you offer to wash his hair, he’s frowning the whole morning. 

You find a stool in his office and make him lean his head back in the bathroom sink. You play with his hair longer than you had planned, but seeing the blissed out look on his face is worth it. Your fingers really start to massage his scalp until he lets out a little moan, his lips parted and suddenly he opens his eyes. You notice again what a soft brown they are. 

“You’re doing this on purpose.”

Nails gently scratching at his neck, you stop and start to squeeze up the back of his head. “What’re you talking about?”

“You’re going to have to stop.”

“Why?”

“Because… it’s starting to feel too good.”

Immediately you freeze and don’t dare look at his lap. “Oh! Oh… sorry… that’s not what I was trying to do. At all.”

“I know.”

You rinse his hair and twist a towel around, just like you do for yourself after a shower. “Feel better now?”

Right away, John takes the towel and pats his hair dry, going to sit on his bed. “Yes, thank you.”

“Well, I think I’ll take Pooch out for awhile and then head home.”

He looks up, startled. “What? Why?” “Why what?”

“You’re not staying?”

“John, you need to rest. You should just sleep and watch TV all day.”

“Yeah, but… do you have to work?”

You shake your head and sit on the bed too. “No, not until tomorrow.”

He starts to smile at that. “So, you can spend one more night?”

You give him a look. “You were fine last night, you slept like a log.”

His face falls again with concern. “Did I snore? Did you not sleep? Were you not comfortable?”

“No, I was fine.” You were more than fine. You woke up cuddled into John while he was still sleeping and you let the fantasy run through your mind for a while, probably more than you should have, and now he wants you to stay. It’s becoming a little intense and then you brilliantly decided to wash his hair, which was probably torture for the both of you. You need a mental break. You need some space. “I’ll stay if you promise to rest, how about that?”

“I'll do whatever you want.”

You walk over to the big window in the bedroom and look out to the view again. Maybe you can walk to the campus and see about what classes you should take. It would only take about fifteen minutes to get there. Or you could take Pooch to the lake. When you look out the west side of the window you can see a ton of people already unpacking their cars and sailboats are leaving the dock. When you tell John what your plans are he frowns. “What’s wrong?”

He presses his hand to his side, above the stitches and his shoulders slump too. “I just… I wanted to do those things with you. You should go, of course. I just wish I could too.”

“It looks too hot out for all that.” You change your mind when you see how sad he is. You couldn’t possibly go now. An image of the both of you holding hands and taking a walk around the lake floats through your thoughts. “I’m just gonna take him out front and throw the ball around, and then I have some work to do.”

John breathes out and leans back on a pillow. He’s starting to get tired again. “Okay.”

“Do you want to go downstairs? Read? Watch some TV?” He doesn’t say anything and grabs a remote from his bed stand. What you thought was an armoire is actually a stand for a TV when the doors slide open. “Well, that’s convenient. Do you need anything else?”

“No, I’m good.” He mumbles, his eyes starting to blink slowly. You watch as his head falls a little and you cover him up with a spare blanket, shutting the TV off and closing the blinds before you leave. 

It actually is really hot outside and Pooch is panting as he brings you back the yellow tennis ball for the fifth time. He stops at a noise and takes down the driveway, running fast and you call out but he ignores you. You try to yell his name in a more alpha voice, like John does but that doesn’t do anything except make you feel like an idiot. When you get to the shrubs at the front of John’s property you see a young girl on her bicycle, talking to Pooch and petting his head.

“Hi?” You greet and think this must be the neighbor girl who watched the dog while John was staying at your place. “Are you Cassey?”

She smiles up at you shyly, shielding the sun from her eyes. “Yeah! Can Pooch play with me?”

You laugh and tell her just for a few minutes. It’s hot and it’s time for his lunch. She seems fine with that and gets off her pink bike. “Are you John’s new friend?”

You’re surprised that she knows who you are. “Yes, I guess that’s me.”

She giggles as Pooch attacks her with kisses, his weight making her sit in the yard and she screams in delight. It’s a really cute scene. Cassey has brown pigtails and a shirt with a sparkly rainbow on it. Pooch suddenly turns towards you, running at full speed and all you can do is sit in the grass too, until he gets his fill of more kisses before he darts back to Cassey, running circles between the two of you and wagging his tail. 

“Do you like it when Pooch visits?” You ask, standing up and brushing green stains from your jeans. 

“Yeah! We have so much fun! Dad will take us to the lake and he chases all the ducks around!”

You gasp. “Your dad chases ducks?!”

“No, silly.” Cassey laughs and rolls around on her stomach. “Pooch does!”

“Ohh, right.” You start to walk up towards the house and the mailbox catches your eye. Doing a good deed for the day, you empty it and take the stack with you. “Well, we have to get back. It was nice meeting you, Cassey. Have a fun day!”

“Bye!” Cassey kisses Pooch on the head one more time before getting her bicycle. The dog runs after you and almost crashes into the door. You can’t help but giggle a little to yourself and he plops down in the middle of the kitchen, panting and drooling. 

Sitting on the couch, you freeze in place and listen as John gets up and uses the bathroom upstairs. You hope you didn’t wake him. You toss the mail on the coffee table and boot up your old laptop so you can make the next schedule for work. Technically, you could wait until you go in tomorrow but at least you’ll have a head start. A few hours must pass and you’re so involved with numbers and spreadsheets, you don’t even notice John is walking down the stairs, barefoot and still in his pajamas. 

“Morning.” He mumbles and gingerly lays on the couch, his feet nudging your thigh.

“It’s like…” You look at your watch. “Shit, it’s already three! You must be starving. I can’t believe you slept that long.”

There’s a low rumbling sound and you realize it’s your own stomach growling. Instead of laughing, John quickly gets his phone out and orders food. 

“Pizza will be here in thirty.” He tells you, shifting so he can see you better, his arm draped along the back of the couch. He rubs at his eyes and wakes himself up, then runs his hand through his hair. 

Thankfully, you get distracted by your computer again until he pokes you with his toe. It makes you smile, but you still don’t pay him much attention. “What’s up? Do you feel better?”

“Yes, I feel a lot better.”

“Good,  ‘we heal in our sleep’ is what my grandma always told me.” You pat his foot, then see a mistake you made on Sam’s schedule and move to fix it. 

“What’re you working on?” 

You close the computer and finally look towards him. “Just a schedule for work.”

“What’s that?”

“My laptop.”

“What century was it made in?”

You push his foot away. “Very funny.”

He’s watching you again, with a small amused smile, like he’s making some kind of list in his head. “What else did you do today?”

“Oh! I met Cassey and she played with Pooch for a little while. I got your mail.” You point to the stack on the table. “And then I guess I got caught up in work.”

John looks at the envelopes and stretches his neck to see Pooch laying on the kitchen floor.  “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem.” You grin and put the computer on the table, settling in by John’s legs and leaning your elbow across his shins. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. Tomorrow you go for a check up and they’ll take that bandage off.”

“No more sponge baths?” 

“I don’t know,” You tease lightly. “Never say never.”

Shock makes his mouth hang open. “Seriously?” “Yeah, I mean what if you get shot again? Or get stabbed?” You tsk at him, but still smiling. “You really need to work on being a better assassin.”

John moves to sit up, and you think he’s mad but he clears his throat and gives you a stare, his hair falling in his eyes. “I’ll have you know, I’m excellent.”

“Mmhm.” You touch his shirt with your fingers, knowing exactly where the scars are on his skin. “Says who?”

“All the dead people I’ve killed.” 

That makes you scrunch your nose in distaste and he just smiles, leaning over to take the mail in his lap.

“What was the hardest job you’ve ever had?”

John stops looking through the pile of envelopes and raises an eyebrow. 

“What? I’m curious.”

“The sight of blood will make you puke, but you want to hear about that?”

“That bad?”

“Let’s just say I’d rather ease you into one of those stories. Ask me something else.”

“Hmm.” You put your feet up on the coffee table and think. “Do you mainly use a gun or a knife?”

He laughs. “You are in a curious mood.”

“It’s more interesting than doing schedules.” Your foot nudges your computer and John takes the stack of mail again, and nonchalantly answers your question.

“Yeah, mostly guns and knives. Anything I guess… a book, a pencil, a car… mostly my bare hands.”

He says it all like it’s nothing, like he’s telling you a grocery list. You stare at his hands as he rips open paper. Wow. That’s oddly hot and gross at the same time. He’s not paying attention so you closely watch his long fingers and wide palms, and you imagine them handling a gun… then handling you. John suddenly leans back and sighs loudly, a large card in his lap.

It snaps you back into reality. “What’s that? It looks like a wedding invitation.”

He nods and tells you it is. “My friend, Marcus… he’s getting married.”

“Is he an assassin friend?”

John seems to be stuck in his own head and he’s just staring at the swirly gold print.“Yeah, he’s mostly a sniper though.”

“Interesting. Have you met his fiance?”

“No… we don’t usually get involved in each other's lives too much.”

“Why?” You grab the pretty card and glance at it.

“It just…” John looks at you with sad eyes. “Complicates things.”

“Well, I think it’s nice he invited you. You should go.”

“By myself? I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

He takes the card back from you and throws it on the coffee table. “Just not my thing.”

The door buzzes with the pizza and John tells you it’s all paid for. It smells amazing and you set it on the kitchen counter, then grab some cans of soda from the fridge. You’d love to finish the wine from yesterday, but not while John is on pain pills. Pooch stirs and finally gets up, probably hungry too so you grab his bowl and fill it while John slowly gets himself to a seat. 

He finally has an appetite since his surgery and eats half by himself. You’re hungry too, so you don’t talk too much, but you can see his mood is improving by his small, shy smiles. You realize he must’ve been hungry all day and that’s why he was grumpy. You should have known. 

“What? You’re looking at me funny.”

“Nothing,” But you can’t help to smirk, figuring John out is fun. “Hey, how about I go with you?”

“Go where?”

“To the wedding. I can be your plus one.” You instantly regret the words and cringe at your own stupidity.  “Uh, I mean… if you don’t already have someone to go--”

“I don’t!” John interrupts before you can take inviting yourself back. “I’d love it if you came with me.”

“Really? Are you sure?” The plates need to be cleared and you get up, gathering napkins and dishes. You have a better understanding of where everything is in the kitchen now. “I mean, I don’t know if you want me meeting your friends…”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You look down at your jeans with grass stains and wrinkled tank top. Your hair is in a messy bun. You feel very plain. “I just don’t think I’d fit in.”

John is confused. “Because you’re not an assassin?”

Ugh. How can guys be so dense sometimes. “No… look, remember how out of your league I am? I just don’t want your friends to think you’re with some loser or make fun of you or something. But I guess if they know we’re just friends it wouldn’t matter. Obviously we would never be together, they would know that… right?” By the time you’re done your cheeks are on fire.

John doesn’t say anything and grabs a cookie from the plate you left on the counter. You go to the fridge and get the milk you bought and one glass, setting it in front of him. You break a cookie in half and dunk it in the cup, and John does the same. When he speaks, it comes out quietly. “I’m disappointed.”

It’s like a punch in the gut. “I know, I’m sorry. I wish I could be fancier… like when you wear your suits, I just don’t--”

“No… no.” He stops and leans on the counter, not meeting your eyes at first. “I’m not disappointed in you. I don’t think I ever could be.” His eyes lift, gaze intense. “I’m disappointed in myself.”

Now you’re confused. “Why would you be?” 

“Because all this time I thought I was doing a good job of showing you how special I think you are.”

“Oh…”

His hair falls in his eyes and his long fingers push it back. “I guess I need to do a better job.”

“No.” You try for a smile, but it’s a weak attempt. For a distraction you start to clean up the counter. “That’s not the way it works. I have to know that on my own. I shouldn’t have to have a man tell me I’m special for me to believe it.” You stop cleaning to rub at your forehead. All this growth can be so frustrating. “My thinking is so damaged.”

“You’re not damaged.” John says. “I just wish you could see what I see.”

You ignore his comment. “Maybe you should bring a date to the wedding. Like, a lady who would actually look good with you.” Who wouldn’t be embarrassing, or plain, or work at the gas station. 

He gives you a very disapproving look. 

“John, I’m sure you know a ton of attractive women who would die to go out with you. It shouldn’t be that hard to find someone.”

He sighs and gets up to let Pooch out. “The only woman I’m interested in going to that wedding with is standing in my kitchen. So, you’re right. It shouldn't be that hard.” 

You bite at your lip, torn of what to do. Maybe you’ll ask your therapist for her advice at your next appointment. So, you’ll tell him that. Kind of. “How about I think about it, okay? I promise that I will.”

John smiles, and you think he knows what a big step it would be if you were to go with him. He lets Pooch back in and locks the door. 

It’s early, but both of you are tired. John needs all the rest he can get and your adrenaline is finally fading. You turn out all the lights and he reaches for your hand, but you hold on to his elbow instead. “Bed?”

“Bed.” He leads you up the stairs slowly and gets washed up. You take your makeup bag and go to the guest room to do the same. The tub is the size of your entire apartment and you’re bitter that no one is enjoying this immaculate room. 

The both of you meet in bed, but this time you keep your distance a little. You can tell he washed his chest because his skin is damp. He exhales loudly as he relaxes and you grab the remote control.

“So fancy…” You murmur when he shows you which button to press and the cabinet doors slide open.

“Functional.” John corrects you. He scoots down to put his head on his pillow and somehow he’s magically closer to you. It’s a slick move. He spreads his legs under the blankets and his foot lightly touches your shin. When you don’t shy away and pretend to focus on the TV, John moves his foot slowly down your leg and wiggles his toes against yours. 

“Are you comfortable?” He asks.

“Very. Are you?”

“You’re so far away.”

Laughing, you turn towards him. “I’m literally right here.”

He blinks slowly, watching you. 

“What?”

“I like having you in my bed.”

You play dumb. “I know, right? It’s so comfortable. I feel bad making you sleep in mine.”

“Wasn’t bad at all.”

“Yeah?” You lean up to turn the light off and now it’s a lot darker, with just the glare from the screen flooding the room. “You could move in with me, ya know? I’ll show you how the simple people live.” You’re teasing but the shock on his face is priceless. “What’s that look for? You can’t imagine being without your extravagant bathtub?”

“No, I’m just wondering if your apartment allows dogs.”

You’re completely dumbfounded and you try to punch his shoulder, but those reflexes get you again and suddenly you're pulled in the crook of his neck, his arm draped over you again like the night before. You lay your head on his shoulder and it’s so comfortable, you briefly forget this isn’t what should be happening, but then you can’t bring yourself to care enough and move. 

“Cuddling with a patient is very unprofessional of a nurse.” 

John squeezes you hard. “It’s a good thing you’re not a nurse.”

You smile, closing your eyes and you should be sad that this is definitely the last sleepover. But you just have a feeling it won’t be. 

**

“So… then after that we woke up and I took him to his doctor appointment, even though he probably could have gone himself, and then he took me out to breakfast. And then I went home and took a nap before work.”

Beth, your therapist, is smiling at you. “Wow, that’s quite a few days you had.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“What would you say is the part that sticks out the most?”

You think for a minute and shift the pillow behind your back. The office is hotter today and she has a fan blowing in the corner, plus the window open. She’s sitting across from you and in the short time you’ve known her, it’s hard to believe how she can already read you and how gentle she directs you into different ways of thinking, silently challenging and almost making you wonder if you’re coming up with your own ideas. This is the first time you haven’t cried at a session, but it’s only half way over so there’s still plenty of time. 

“I don’t know. Maybe that I was able to get John up and to the hospital pretty calmly. I mean, I was nervous but I still did it.”

She nods. “Exactly right. If you were put in the same situation, maybe a few months ago… how would you have handled it?”

“Hmm...  well, I doubt I’d be somewhere like John’s house but if I were at work or something? I probably would have froze and let someone else take over.”

“Do you think a part of yourself is starting to have trust in your capabilities?”

The thought makes you feel the prick of tears at your eyes. You haven’t trusted yourself in a long time. Every choice, every thought was essentially wrong and you would turn to grandma. Her word became your world, whether you knew it or not. She made all the decisions and you were fine having her do it for the both of you. It was just easier and then it became a habit to let her lead your life. You were too young to know you were even letting it happen, and at the time it was what you needed, but now you have to learn how to live on your own.

“I still second guess myself all the time. And that can be exhausting… but I’m trying.”

“What if you didn’t second guess yourself? What if you allowed yourself to make mistakes along the way?”

“What if I make a mistake and lose John?”

“Okay, well what if you don’t make a mistake and lose John anyway? What if something happens and it doesn’t work out, by no mistake of your own. It just wasn’t a good match. What would that mean?”

You look out the window and frown. “It would mean that I’d still be okay. By myself. I can take care of myself.”  You would really miss him though, and just the thought breaks your heart. The ache is exactly why you’ve been keeping your distance. The fear of rejection is much easier to deal with than a shattered heart. Right now, it’s the fear of losing his friendship that is overwhelming. “But… he’s the only friend I have. What if… what if my appendix burst or something, and he wasn’t around anymore. I don’t know what I would do.” 

Beth smiles and her voice is soft. “Let’s say that happens. What would you do?”

“I don’t know who I would call. I don’t have any other friends.”

“You don’t think Carla or Sam would help you?”

“Maybe, but I’d hate to bother them.”

She tilts her head, confused. “Why do you think they would be bothered by you asking for help?”

It makes you think about what John had asked you the other night. If you would have helped him and you didn’t hesitate. If Carla or Sam needed you, you’d be there for them too. Maybe you’re not such a burden. Grandma often didn’t let you ask for anything. She would figure it out for you or you’d go without. “I don’t know.”

“It’s okay. It’s something we can work on. But, I think they would both be very kind to you if you did need their help. And remember, you can always call 911 if it’s an emergency.”

You look down at your hands sheepishly. “Right, of course.”

“Good.” She says, pushing up her glasses and sipping her coffee. “Now can we talk about the wedding?”

“Okay.”

“I want you to close your eyes and envision you and John at the wedding.”

The thought makes you smile. 

“And now think of the worst possible thing that could happen.”

Your smile instantly fades. 

“What happened?”

“John and I were dancing and I tripped and fell into the cake.” You feel silly, but Beth is nodding to validate it.

“Okay, good. Let’s talk about it. Do you think if you had a plan in place for that not to happen, that you would consider going?”

You shrug. “Maybe.”

“Well, let’s try it. Let's say you do fall and trip into the cake. What would happen?”

“Everyone would laugh. I would embarrass John. I would ruin someone’s wedding day.”

“Those are possibilities. What made you trip in the first place?”

You close your eyes and think about the image of shoes in your head. “My heel got caught on something.”

“And what’s something that would prevent that from happening?” 

“Um… I could wear flat shoes? Something I’m more comfortable in.”

“Yes! Perfect! What else?”

“Hmm... I’m not sure.”

She nods, encouraging as always. “That’s okay. Soon this type of thinking will become easier. What if you saw where the cake table was set up and you danced on the other side of the room?”

“That’s a good idea.”

“Keep your eyes closed. I want you to put yourself in John’s place, or maybe even the bride and the groom. And they just saw one of their guests' trip. What do you think they would do?”

“Probably want to make sure she’s okay.”

“Are they laughing? Are they mad?”

“No.” You open your eyes and breathe. “Do you think I should go?”

“I think you should give yourself permission to go, if you want. It might feel like it’s too soon for something so out of your element, but that’s entirely up for you to decide.”

You look at the clock and it’s time to leave already. You have a lot to think about, but in a very different way that you’re used to.

**

Sam just left to go home and change for this pool party he’s been talking nonstop about for days. You already miss his excited chatter and now it’s quiet in the store. You’re mopping up the floor after someone dropped a bottle of juice and the toilet was clogged when you got here, but thankfully that’s been fixed. It’s going to be a really long day. 

There’s a pile of applications you need to read through, and you’ve been dreading the task for a week now, but Carla really wants you to hire more help. The stack is huge and daunting, but you sit behind the counter and get ready to tackle it just as the door jingles. 

You don’t look up and assume the customer will come to you when they’re ready. A cup of coffee, your favorite kind, is set right in front of you and now you can see John’s tall figure as he approaches.

The coffee smells amazing and you can’t hold back a smile. “What’s this for?”

“Nothing.” He replies easily. “Just wanted to stop in and say hi.”

You’ve never had this before. Never had a friend who would ask how your day was and after you tell him about the toilet, the juice, and the applications he would suddenly stop by so effortlessly. It really means a lot to you. You’re beaming and John has to tear his eyes away, otherwise you feel like he’d stare at you forever. 

“Well hey, thank you.” You come around the counter and tug at his shirt for him to come closer. “Can I give you a sticky hug?”

He laughs and bends down to fit in your arms. When you’re about to pull away, he grabs you closer and smells your neck, his nose sensually running down your throat. You flush and squeeze his arms as you move away from his touch. 

“Was it orange juice?”

“What?” “You smell like orange juice.”

“Oh! Yeah. Yeah it was.” You smell your own hair and it does smell like citrus. Perfect. “Well, how are you feeling? You were supposed to see the doctor today, right?”

“Yes, apparently I’m a fast healer. I told him I had a very good nurse taking excellent care of me.”

You roll your eyes and take the coffee, taking a big drink. “I hope you didn’t say that. You sound like a pervert.”

John laughs and takes the coffee from you, taking a small sip for himself and then handing it back. “That was a very G-rated few nights and I’m a pervert?”

“I guess I am the one who did flash you.” You pull back your coffee when John reaches for it again.  “God, I was the pervert all this time!” 

“Don’t be so dramatic.” He frowns when you protect your coffee and gets distracted by the memory, looking briefly at your chest before he catches himself and looks away. 

You smile when you see pink on his cheeks. “What’re you up to tonight?”

He leans on the counter and pretends to look at all the lottery tickets. “I have to get ready for that job soon.”

“John…” You’re troubled and worried. “You can’t take that job. You just had surgery.”

He shrugs. “I have to. I don’t have a choice.”

“But you’ll get hurt, you’ll pull your stitches out and lord knows what else.”

“Yeah, that’s probably true.” He doesn’t seem upset at all. 

“Well… can’t you postpone it? Or tell them to get someone else?”

John has a small smile when he finally meets your eyes. “I appreciate that you’re worried about me, but that’s not how it works. It’s just for one night and I’ll be back… and you can take care of me again.” He tries to joke but you’re not laughing. He reaches to rub your arm up and down. “C’mon, it really will be fine, okay?”

“No. Not okay.” You are not happy. Those stitches are still fresh and you can’t imagine the pain he’ll be in, not after what you saw the night he had to go to the hospital. 

He sighs and he’s still rubbing your elbow with his thumb. “Well, what do you want me to do?”

You shrug and sulk, crossing your arms over your chest. “I hate seeing you get hurt.”

“It’s my job, remember?”

You inwardly cringe at that because the last thing you want to do is make him feel even worse about his job. The least you could do is be a supportive friend… about killing people. It’s still strange to think about. “Yeah, okay.” You admit defeat. “I just wish there was a way I could help. Or be there or something.”

“Do you want to come with me?”

You raise your eyebrow. “To San Francisco?” 

“No, the target moved. He’s actually in the city now. I’ll be at a hotel while I do business. You could stay there if you want and see that I’m okay when I come back. You’d be perfectly safe.”

You grab the schedule and remember that Sam wanted another shift, so you took an extra day off. It's scary, but you want to say yes. “Are you sure I won’t be distracting you or anything?”

John tucks his black hair behind his ear and shoots you an unbelievable grin. “I don’t mind your distractions.”

You’re highly suspicious that he’d get sick of your distractions sooner or later. “Can I be your assassin secretary?”

“No.”

“Can I order room service?”

“Yes, that you can do as many times as you like.”

“Alright fine, I guess I’ll go.” You act bored of it but you’re really nervous and have no idea what to expect. John tells you that he’ll pick you up at your apartment in a few days and bring clothes or whatever else you want. 

You follow him out the door and thank him again for the coffee. “I still can’t figure out how you know this is my favorite.”

“You were drinking it at the laundromat that one time.” John explains. “It was the first time I saw you with an ounce of happiness. So I went to the place and asked what you ordered.” 

Your mouth falls open. “You did that?”

He gets his keys out and turns to look at you. “Yeah.”

“But you would do that for anyone? Not just me?”

John doesn’t say anything, but smirks as he walks away, leaving you to watch as he goes. You wave to him when he drives away and try not to overthink everything that just happened. 

TBC Chapter 4

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